Chapter 200
This was my second time stepping into the private residence of former President Kang Gwanung in Pyeongchang-dong. Our contact had been limited to brief messages relayed through Kang's manager, whom he treated like a limb, so we'd never actually met face-to-face. Above all, it was true that he hadn't summoned me once during the entire Myungwha Pharma case, despite his promise to watch over me.
As I entered the open garage, Kang's manager was waiting.
"Attorney Cha, it's been a while."
"Yes, it has."
"Come on in. Hot day, isn't it?"
The garage had the AC blasting, so it wasn't hot at all, but I played along with a casual, "Sure is."
"Wish a nice downpour would cool things off," the manager muttered idly.
Big talk to jinx it. 2010 had left me with plenty of memories, one being Typhoon Kompasu that slammed straight into Seoul. It killed several people and inflicted hundreds of billions in damage on local governments. Windows didn't just rattle—glass shattered outright—and huge roadside signs got hurled by the wind, only to turn up in back alleys.
"Where's the elder?"
"Taking a stroll in the garden."
We left the garage and climbed the stone steps, where a vast garden unfolded. On the expansive green lawn stood a tea setup, and there sat Kang Gwanung alone, reading a book.
"Sir. Attorney Cha is here."
"Come in."
Kang set the book down and pushed up the glasses perched crookedly on his nose bridge.
"It's been a while, sir."
"Yes. Sit."
The manager pointed to the chair opposite Kang and took his own seat. I'd assumed Kang Minjae would come rushing out first, making a fuss the moment I arrived, but there was no sign of him.
"Too early for dinner yet. More guests coming anyway. Have some tea first."
"More guests? You mean Attorney Kang?"
"No, I told Minjae to go out and have fun. No idea you're here."
Out having fun—like talking to a kid. Being around Kang Minjae always felt like playing with a child anyway. But who else was coming, if not him?
I racked my brain, recalling faces from my first meeting with Kang, but no one stood out.
The manager lifted the ochre teapot and filled Kang's empty cup. He poured steaming tea into mine as well. Hot tea outdoors on a sweltering day like this—sweat was already prickling my back.
"The Myungwha Pharma case—that was your handiwork, right?"
Kang cut straight to it without signaling. I considered denying it but nodded honestly instead.
"Yes."
I'd decided to take Kang as my backer. Our first meeting called for some caution, but now it was time to get to the point. He'd sensed as much and left that message about watching over me.
"Satisfied with the results?"
"Still much left to do."
"Not enough for you?"
He chuckled dryly, lifting his cup to his lips.
"Not until Antrozol Alpha is fully scrapped. There are procedures left."
"I see."
Kang nodded slowly, lost in thought for a moment. I held my tongue, waiting for him to speak.
"Frankly, I was impressed. You know how to wield public opinion like a pro. Lighting the fuse and turning it into a blaze."
"You're too kind."
It started with commissioning a medical specialist journalist on Antrozol Alpha's side effects. But people don't care much about drug issues unless they're the ones popping the pills. So I roped in stock expert Jo Bongjun. Once that gained traction, the facts spread across online communities. Then I targeted cash-strapped broadcasters always hunting stories. Next, I hit Myungwha Pharma's corporate reputation, escalating to courtroom drama. When eyes were on it, I dropped the truly provocative evidence. The spectacle made it a story—not dry news, but juicy gossip. People ate it up, and prosecutors finally moved. Anyone piecing it together would see "Cha Juhan" as the linchpin. Only then does the storytelling I wove come into focus. Otherwise, I'm just Jo Bongjun's lawyer who got tapped as a special investigator. Kang Minjae thought I took the case because of my tie to Jo. He had no clue I orchestrated it all. So Kang's insights were purely his own.
"And your knack for deploying evidence right on cue—and finding it. Heard plenty about that from Minjae, even outside this case."
"Too kind."
"You've become quite the figure now. Known in legal circles before, but your reach has widened. Every move you make will draw eyes."
Kang tapped the book on the table with his fingertips, continuing slowly.
"Now you can say it. That true intent you hid behind lofty pretenses in front of me."
In short: What's your endgame here?
Before this case, I could claim it was about justice, fighting the wrongs I saw. But Antrozol Alpha was my creation. Kang didn't know about my past life's intel on its issues, so he figured I stumbled on it while digging into Wooshin. And that suited me fine.
"Don't you already know, sir?"
"Testing me?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"Checking if I've got you all figured out?"
I'd been tested by him subtly many times. But testing him back would be rude. He was a political titan; I was the rookie needing his help. Not our first rodeo—I already held him in high regard. No need for trials. And no more reason to hide. I needed his power. His tests were done; time to commit.
"If that's how it seemed, my apologies. I've been pondering how to phrase my goal."
"Phrasing it?"
"Yes. It might sound like a pipe dream to you. I want to earn your approval, not look like some fool chasing fantasies."
Kang let out a laugh at my reply.
"Thought you were stiff, but you know how to flatter."
Not flattery—truth. But if he saw it that way, fine. My flaw was never bullshitting, which could make me seem socially inept.
…Jeong Changyun said as much once.
"Pipe dreams are fine, if backed by ability. If you were all talk, no substance—just a hollow shell—I wouldn't have met you twice."
His eyes crinkled happily, fine lines deepening.
"Let's pinpoint the target. Go Sangjun? Or Wooshin entire?"
"Didn't I say it might seem like a pipe dream?"
He burst out laughing again at my dodge.
"The latter, then."
"Yes."
"Got a blueprint?"
"Rough one. Still abstract. Need to vet if the pieces fit. Too early to share."
"Pieces, huh. Minjae in it?"
I couldn't answer Kang's question swiftly. Truthfully, no—not yet. Not from doubting his skills, but his will. And I didn't want to drag him into this mess. But I couldn't guess what answer Kang wanted. Even a man above petty ties bends for family. Say yes, and it's "Dragging my grandson into danger?" Say no, and it's "Doubting his talent?"
Damn, tricky. Hit me how much I'd lived oblivious to others' eyes, as people said. Normally, I'd just say what needed saying. That's why it was harder now.
"You first helped because of Attorney Kang's request, but I thought you sized me up and decided. Wasn't that it?"
"True, I saw you that day and chose."
"Then whether he's in my blueprint shouldn't factor into your decision to back me."
"Right. Just curious."
Kang answered refreshingly.
"Minjae has zilch to do with me helping you. Not because you're his boss, but because I like you. But damn, you're slippery. Dodging to the end."
He shot me a mock glare. It oddly mirrored Kang Minjae. Genes don't lie.
"When I became president, Korea had sacrificed much for rapid growth. Values that mattered were dismissed as trivial. I fought to restore them. As you know, that earned me flak for chasing pipe dreams."
Kang's gaze turned distant, bittersweet, like reliving the past.
"Can't call your dream pipe just because. I said ability's needed earlier, but truth is, anyone can dream, able or not."
"……."
"And I was the one lacking that ability."