Power & Sex, and... 24
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Eun-mi's entertainment agency, which she had taken responsibility for pushing forward, was gradually picking up speed. With Suji's help, singers from SJ Entertainment whose contracts were nearing their end agreed to wait until their exclusive contracts expired before signing on. Those with more than six months left on their deals sought legal assistance to visit the imprisoned CEO Hwang Bo-jun in jail, offering compensation in exchange for contract termination to push through the cancellations.
Of course, the staff had already started commuting to Eun-mi's office, booking broadcast appearances for singers who were free from current contracts—not as agency managers yet, but as personal ones. The results weren't entirely satisfactory, but they were starting to show some promise. Once Eun-mi's entertainment company fully launched, it could survive in the industry just with the singers they had secured so far—that much was evident.
The party's situation, meanwhile, was spiraling downward. Despite press conferences from our group of first-term assemblymen, the National Assembly Reform Alliance, demanding the current leadership step down voluntarily and convene a party convention to elect a new one—and even with ordinary party member groups like Power of Ordinary Party Members piling on the calls for resignation—the party leader and leadership remained silent, clinging to their vested interests.
"Predecessor, I hope you'll take the lead and make the noble decision to step down. We have to save the party first, don't we?"
"Who else but you, Assemblyman Park, drove the party into this mess?"
"Yes, I won't deny my share of responsibility in this crisis. But the leadership's idea of blocking internal discourse—that's where the primary blame lies, as far as I'm concerned."
"In any case, I have no intention of stepping down from my supreme committee position right now. Do you have any idea how much effort and money I poured into getting elected?"
"I know the deposit for running in the party leader and supreme committee elections is around 100 million won."
"You think you can run a campaign on that alone?"
"……."
"It costs several times that. And now you're telling me to give up this supreme committee seat I fought so hard for?"
Supreme Committee Member Kim Seong-gap showed no sign of relinquishing his position. Not that I would have acted differently in his shoes. But without at least two supreme committee members resigning, dissolving the committee was impossible. So I realized I had no choice but to play my strongest card.
"Supreme Committee Member Kim, do you remember the uproar with SJ Entertainment not long ago?"
"Why bring up something so irrelevant?"
"Do you know how many people were missing from the police press conference back then?"
"How would I know about that?"
"I have the original files. I received a tip and provided the materials to the police myself."
"And?"
Kim Seong-gap's tone suddenly sharpened. It was a classic case of the thief getting nervous at the mention of his own feet. I gazed at him calmly, wondering what he'd say next.
"What do you want from me, Assemblyman Park?"
"As I said earlier, for the sake of the party, please step back from the front lines for a while."
"Fine. I'll do it."
In the end, Kim Seong-gap raised the white flag. There was no need to shove his dirty laundry in his face right then, so I stood, bowed, and left his office.
A sharp thwack! followed by shattering glass echoed from behind, but I ignored it and hurried to meet another supreme committee member, Jeong Sang-won.
The next morning, in the National Assembly's Jeongron-gwan press room, Supreme Committee Members Kim Seong-gap and Jeong Sang-won held a conference. They expressed respect for the first-term assemblymen and ordinary members' efforts to reform the party, announcing they would immediately resign from their supreme committee positions—their vested rights—for the sake of that reform.
After the press conference, the two ignored reporters' questions and left. With their resignations, the remaining supreme committee members gathered in the party leader's office to discuss damage control. But the National Assembly Reform Alliance fired back with an emergency press conference under their name, praising the two's loyalty while pressuring the holdouts and the party leader. They also urged all party members to step up for reform.
Ordinary members, led by the Power of Ordinary Party Members community, took turns protesting in front of party headquarters, demanding the leader and supreme committee resign together and convene a party convention for new leadership.
In the end, not just ordinary members but local councilors and mayors from across the country descended on Seoul, holding rallies demanding the leadership step down. The party's mood was tipping sharply toward forcing the leader and supreme committee out together.
"Assemblyman Park, why don't you run for supreme committee in this party convention?"
"Oh, come on, how could a first-termer like me?"
"It feels right for you to represent the National Assembly Reform Alliance."
"I'm still young, and there are others dreaming of the position, aren't there?"
Kim Sil-jang was briefing me on the central party's mood in my office when Assemblyman Seo Jeong-ho dropped by. I had no idea how much he knew about the situation, but he suggested I challenge for supreme committee. I politely declined.
If I'd accepted and run—especially as the National Assembly Reform Alliance policy coordinator—opposition within the group would be minimal. Running as their representative, I'd almost certainly win given the current sentiment.
But that would make former Supreme Committee Members Kim Seong-gap and Jeong Sang-won think I'd orchestrated the crisis just to grab the seat for myself. If word spread to other colleagues and seniors, it'd be a massive liability for establishing myself in the party. No way I'd choose short-term gain over long-term wisdom.
Better to use this chance to prop up someone from the National Assembly Reform Alliance, owe them a favor. It'd be a smarter deal for me. So I decided to look deeper into Seo Jeong-ho and Park Seong-hwan.
Put one of them forward to win a supreme committee seat. With the National Assembly Reform Alliance fully backing the recently resigned Kim Seong-gap and Jeong Sang-won for re-election in the upcoming race, those three seats alone would give me some influence in the central party. No need to get greedy.
After seeing Seo Jeong-ho off, I called Kim Sil-jang and asked him to investigate both assemblymen thoroughly, down to local sentiment. With his skills, he'd have it all by tomorrow.
Around quitting time, Suji called.
"Uncle, busy?"
"Nah, what's up? Where are you?"
"Buy me dinner."
"Where are you now?"
"Yeongdeungpo. Was heading to Yeouido but called in case someone spots me."
"Alone?"
"Yeah. Sent the manager uncle away and I'm in the car."
"Hang tight. I'll head over."
I met Suji in Yeongdeungpo, left her car in the lot, and moved to a dinner spot.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Honestly, nothing sounds good."
"You said you wanted dinner."
"Just wanted to see you."
"We still gotta eat. Since you're dieting anyway, how about sushi?"
"Sure."
Truth be told, moving around Seoul alone with Suji was tricky. We decided on takeout sushi from a Japanese place and headed to a hotel. Hongeo-something in Goyang was convenient—privacy guaranteed, clean, and just outside Seoul in Gyeonggi Province, which eased the mind more than anywhere in the city.
With anyone else, straying from my usual haunts wouldn't worry me much. But Suji? Every precaution mattered. My officetel would soon leak that I lived there, and per Chairman Lee's advice, another move might be needed anyway. Her place was even riskier.
At the hotel lot, I left Suji in the car, checked in at the front desk, then called her up. Moments later, the bell rang. She stood there in sunglasses and a bucket hat, ready in no time.
"Go wash your hands."
While she was in the bathroom, I dimmed the lights, lit candles on the table, set out the sushi and champagne from the hotel shop, and waited.
"Uncle! What's this? Oh my god~ It's so pretty~"
She stared at the candlelit table in shock, then at me. She was too good for me by far, and I wanted to do something special for her. I'd thought of taking her to that Minrak-dong hotel in Busan for the Gwangalli Bridge night view someday, but that wasn't feasible now. This was a spur-of-the-moment idea.
The candles weren't pre-planned—they were from my car console, ones I lit on the dash to mask cigarette smoke, staring dramatically into the flame like some brooding loner. When the event idea hit, I grabbed the bag and brought them up.
Anyway, the soft glow turned Suji into the picture of a 19-year-old—fresh, innocent, sensitive. I smiled warmly at her.
Thank you to Pokajikyo for the sponsorship.^^