Chapter 195
"...As the battle over the truth surrounding Antrozol Alpha, once hailed as Myeonghwa Pharmaceuticals' flagship product, rages on, the company has just held a press conference denying all the evidence you saw, as shown moments ago."
"That evidence was revealed by Yoo Minhyuk, the former head of Myeonghwa's research team and a key developer of Antrozol Alpha."
News9, broadcasting footage of Myeonghwa Pharmaceuticals' press conference, began introducing Choi Jonghyeon.
Standing behind the camera, anxiously watching the newsroom, Choi wiped his sweat-dampened hands on his pants—he was clearly more nervous than he'd let on.
"Nervous?"
Choi gave an awkward smile at my question. "I've never been in front of a camera as a newspaper reporter. Ha, I thought I'd nailed that internet broadcast, so this should be a breeze, but damn if my hands aren't shaking. Any tips, Lawyer Cha?"
"Too late for tips, I'm afraid."
As Choi's turn arrived, an FD with headphones approached him. "Reporter Choi Jonghyeon! Follow the path we discussed earlier."
Choi, looking like livestock being led to slaughter, was guided by the FD's hand to right in front of the newsroom. At the cue, he slowly walked to his seat.
"Hello. I'm reporter Choi Jonghyeon."
He'd made such a fuss about trembling, but once seated in front of the camera, the words flowed smoothly. Internet broadcasting experience wasn't nothing, after all.
The anchor introduced Choi to the viewers, and the conversation soon delved into the meat of it.
"News9 received the original recording provided by Mr. Yoo Minhyuk from reporter Choi here, and to determine if it's truly fabricated, we commissioned a voiceprint analysis."
[This graph represents the voice of Myeonghwa Pharmaceuticals CEO Kim Hyeongjung from the press conference at the time of the company's IPO. The graph below shows the voice from the recording provided by Mr. Yoo Minhyuk.]
As the reporter finished explaining, the screen showed the acoustics professor overlaying the two graphs.
"Analysis complete: These two voices belong to the same person."
The professor's matter-of-fact conclusion wrapped up, and the screen cut back to the newsroom. The discussion dragged on, confirming that Myeonghwa's morning press conference had been a lie.
Choi reiterated how many falsehoods they'd peddled so far, with the News9 team displaying easy-to-read graphics on screen.
"Myeonghwa Pharmaceuticals didn't stop at tailing us while we received evidence from Mr. Yoo—they even tried to steal it midway."
"Trying to seize evidence? That's shocking."
"Right? It's beyond comprehension. If the evidence was truly fake and Myeonghwa was above board, why resort to that?"
"Indeed."
"Contrary to Myeonghwa's claims, voiceprint analysis proves the recording is authentic. So, can we trust their press conference claim of commissioning new clinical trials at a U.S. institution, confirming highzolam works properly? They told Mr. Yoo they'd fabricated clinical data for over a million dollars—and that they'd already prepared the cash. Isn't that 'successful' result just payment for the bribe? Our team isn't the only one asking."
"Yes. Moreover, CEO Kim Hyeongjung's remarks about the KFDA are equally telling. Your thoughts?"
"One lie's already proven. Time to scrutinize the other two claims. National agencies should step in now. They dismissed it as mere rumor at first, but too much has surfaced. The odds of Myeonghwa's misconduct—and Antrozol Alpha's danger—are sky-high."
"You're calling for a thorough national investigation."
"Yes."
Our allotted time ended. Choi bid the anchors a composed farewell, then bolted toward me the moment he was off-camera.
"Ha, did I shake at all?"
"Not a bit. You nailed it."
"Good. Whew."
As he pressed a hand to his chest to relax, the anchors wrapped the segment with commentary on the Myeonghwa scandal.
News9 surely felt Wooshin Group's shadow—the behemoth dominating Korea. That's why anchor Jin Hye-kyung, interested for years, could only air it now. It meant momentum had shifted our way.
Her comment yesterday, requesting my appearance, that Antrozol Alpha was "done for"—that carried the same weight.
After News9 aired, the internet exploded. Myeonghwa caught lying again. People declared nothing from them trustworthy. Even if Antrozol Alpha was safe, boycott drugs from chronic liars, they raged.
The next morning, the Korea Food and Drug Administration announced an emergency briefing for the afternoon.
The Korea Food and Drug Administration confirms no improper conduct in approving Myeonghwa Pharmaceuticals' Antrozol Alpha. Approval typically involves forming a committee for multiple review meetings—a process applied here. From the first safety concerns, we launched an internal probe and found no issues. We too question CEO Kim Hyeongjung's claim that 'talks with the KFDA are over' in the recording. We will continue serving public health.
The announcement screamed reluctance to get tangled up. Had I not lived my prior life, I might've pitied them as unlucky dupes of Myeonghwa's schemes. It felt that convincing.
"We've stirred the pot successfully, but uncovering the truth might be trickier," Kim Chan-young said, eyeing the news screen.
I folded my arms, staring at the empty studio. Jo Bongjun and Choi had mobilized every contact till dawn to expose the truth, finally crashing at the dorm.
Couldn't let their efforts go to waste. I lowered the sunlit blinds and turned to Kim.
"It won't be hard."
"Why not?"
"I'm going to make Myeonghwa and the KFDA turn on each other."
"...Possible? Aren't they in cahoots?"
"You know the presidential election's less than a year away."
July now. Election next February—seven months out. Ruling Minwoo Party aims to retain power. The current KFDA head? Classic political appointee. In my old life, he joined Minwoo formally post-KFDA, snagged a nomination, and ran for office in their stronghold.
In this Antrozol uproar, any KFDA link would tank Minwoo support. Early in term? Maybe survivable. Half a year pre-election? Catastrophic.
If cornered, the KFDA would ditch Myeonghwa in a heartbeat.
"...Yeah. Never thought that far. Brilliant."
Kim nodded, piecing it together.
"But could Antrozol Alpha, with all its issues, pass committee without the KFDA turning a blind eye?"
"No way."
"These are members from the committee just before Antrozol Alpha."
I set documents before Kim.
"Hm, aside from one or two, mostly the same lineup back then."
"Right. But Antrozol's was different." I laid the Antrozol committee list atop.
"...You mean they stacked it with Myeonghwa cronies on purpose?"
"Spot on."
"Lawyer, you live 48-hour days."
Kim marveled nonstop.
"How'd you even think to review this stuff? When'd you find the time?"
No time, really—I'd been swamped. This was intel from lawyers handling Antrozol lawsuits years later in my old life. I just remembered.
"Can you check if any have Myeonghwa ties?"
"School, hometown, family?"
"Nah, I'll handle that." Easy enough tailing profiles a few days. Taesik could manage.
"What then?"
"See if any hold Myeonghwa stock."
"...If a committee member owns shares, this blows wide open, right?"
"Isn't that what we want?"
I met Kim's eyes. He stared back, then raised both hands in surrender.
"Yes. Exactly. The bastard illegitimate son's desperate wish to shove it to his dogshit dad."