Power & Sex, and... 49
“Assemblyman, what on earth happened?”
Woken by his cellphone ringing, Park Maru picked up to hear Chief Aide Kim's urgent voice. What could possibly be going on to cause such a fuss at dawn? He wanted to fire back with a question of his own but held his tongue, waiting for Kim to continue.
“Check the news. It's chaos because of you right now, sir.”
“What the... Hold on. No TV at home—I'll hang up, check the news, and call you back.”
He ended the call with Chief Aide Kim and hurriedly opened the internet, logging into a portal site's news section.
A ridiculous headline dominated the next main story. He clicked it frantically. The article claimed that last night, during drinks with the party leader at a bar, he'd gotten into an altercation with a server, been hauled off by police, and left her with injuries requiring two weeks' treatment. Worse, the party leader himself had witnessed the rampage.
The party leader witnessed it?
It was the party leader's doing, no doubt. A reckless blunder that painted him as a total idiot. After finishing the article, he called Chief Aide Kim, insisting it was all lies and that the party leader had made a foolish mistake.
With the incident splashed across the news, most of the Korean public now believed the fabricated story—his reputation was sunk in the mud. No human approach could salvage it now. He asked Chief Aide Kim to prepare a press release and urgently requested the lawyer who'd helped them since the days under Congressman Hwang to come to Seoul.
“Park, my boy, what happened?”
Lee Hoe-jang had seen the article and called.
“Ah, Father-in-law, looks like the party leader overplayed his hand.”
“It's not true, then?”
“Of course not. Me, who didn't even drink, starting a fight? And with a bar girl, no less. I've already called a trusted lawyer from Busan to head up. No need to worry.”
“Come to the company first, will you?”
“Yes, sir. On my way now.”
No point heading to the office yet—nothing for him to do there immediately—so he drove to Daesan Group's headquarters in Guro. Lee Hoe-jang looked deeply troubled, his face shadowed.
“I'm here.”
“You really didn't go berserk like the article says, right?”
“Yes.”
Words alone wouldn't convince him; the recording from last night would be far better. He pulled out his phone and played the file. Only after listening fully did Lee Hoe-jang relax, his expression softening as he gazed warmly at Park Maru.
“What do you plan to do?”
“They picked the fight—I can't just sit here and take it.”
“I've called the company's legal advisors. Talk it over with them first.”
“Yes, sir.”
Confirming Park Maru had done nothing wrong, Lee Hoe-jang guessed the party leader was behind the setup and vented his fury. Just then, Eun-mi entered the chairman's office. She eyed him worriedly, then relaxed after hearing the recording.
Moments later, the summoned company lawyers arrived.
“Introduce yourselves. This is Assemblyman Park Maru—practically a son to me.”
The lawyers greeted him; he stood, shaking hands one by one. Seated, they dove into questions about the previous night.
He showed phone logs: when he'd received the party leader's call, when he'd phoned back upon entering Seoul, and arrival at the bar—which matched the recording's start. Explaining in detail would help them grasp the full picture.
After detailing the bar incident, he played the recording. It captured everything: entering the room per the server's guidance, greeting the party leader, the offer of drinks, asking the girls to leave, and the server herself flying into a rage.
“Chairman, this is more than enough.”
“I think so too, but can we win a lawsuit on this?”
“Yes. We need the police report, but if the party leader testified as claimed, he'll face consequences too—not just the server.”
“So they defamed our innocent Assemblyman Park?”
“Exactly.”
“Then get moving.”
Once the lawyers left, Lee Hoe-jang pondered before looking at him.
“What will you do?”
“Still thinking.”
“What's to think about?”
“The easy way is to expose it all and bury the party leader. But that would tank trust in the party. It'd hurt not just me, but every member and supporter. That's the dilemma.”
“So you'll let it slide? What about your damage?”
“My personal hit isn't the end of the world. Evidence is solid—we can clear it up later when it matters.”
“Then what's the issue?”
“To bury this quietly, I'd have to cut a deal with him. And I'm scared that'd turn me into him someday—losing my principles.”
It was what he'd agonized over since last night. Exposing the party leader's ugly scheme publicly and ending his career was simple, but the fallout for the party couldn't be ignored. Yet forgiving him was impossible. His worries deepened.
Unable to decide, he left the chairman's office and returned to Yeouido.
“Meet in the conference room, please.”
The aides showed no panic—Chief Aide Kim had briefed them. Still, to build trust, he played the recording without further ado.
“Why not flip the table now?”
“...”
“Sir, we can't just take this lying down.”
“It'd feel good, and my popularity might even spike. But what about party support? If ratings plummet, how do we take responsibility?”
“...”
This time, the aides fell silent, exchanging heavy glances.
“What about the press?”
Chief Aide Kim's question gave him pause, but a decision was needed—one he'd wrestled with all night, through the meeting with Lee Hoe-jang, and up to now.
“Press conference at Jeongron-gwan at 3 PM. Spread the word. Call the office to confirm the slot's free.”
He stood and returned to his room. Then he called the Office Manager, who must be worried sick but too hesitant to reach out.
“Brother. It's me.”
“Park... or not?”
“Yeah. Not true.”
“Good. That's all that matters.”
The manager had been deeply rattled—reverting to old aide-days speech, even with "brother." He truly was like family.
“Brother, I'll email you the recording. Listen to it.”
To ease his mind, hearing it firsthand was best. He downloaded the file to his computer and sent it.
“Sir, 3 PM's booked for Supreme Committee Member Kim Seong-gap's conference, but I got his okay.”
“He didn't seem upset?”
“He knows about it—seemed worried for you, actually.”
“Really?”
Unexpected. His image had shifted from fresh, popular Park Maru to thug assemblyman beating up bar girls—Kim Seong-gap should be celebrating, eager to stomp him. Worry? Baffling. After Chief Aide Kim left, Kim called.
"Assemblyman Park, this must be tough on you."
“Sorry for the worry.”
"No need. Hope it resolves soon—I'm worried. Men slip up sometimes; don't beat yourself up. At the press conference, don't go too soft—that backfires. Bend just enough."
Genuine concern rang in his voice. Maybe Kim wasn't a one-off ally but a true comrade for the long haul. This moment tested the old saying: a friend in need is a friend indeed.