Chapter 205
"Kang, got any free evenings after work?"
Now that we'd be working together, it seemed right to formally introduce Kang Minjae to Choi Jonghyeon and Jo Bongjun. They already knew he was former President Kang Gwanung's grandson, but he'd only known them as his clients in the Minghwa Pharma defamation case he'd handled as their lawyer. With all the scheming we'd be doing ahead, better to get the greetings out of the way and familiarize ourselves early.
"After work? I'm always free. Time's all I've got to spare—you know that. What's up?"
Kang Minjae replied in an unusually upbeat mood, more pumped than usual.
"Thinking of grabbing a meal with Reporter Choi and Jo Bongjun."
"Oh, introducing me? Kinda feels like getting onboarded as the new guy, huh? Haha."
"Yeah, something like that. Gotta build some trust, and that starts with knowing each other a bit."
"In that case, why not our MT?"
"We're not college kids. What MT?"
I'd hated MTs even in college—forced to go anyway. The reason I loathed them? Surrounded by senior girls shoving drinks down my throat till I nearly died. I remembered hauling crates of soju there; half a crate must've gone down me alone... honestly, who knows. They poured it in shot glasses, neat, big cups, even dippers. Even with my iron liver, that much knocked me out cold.
And it wasn't just that. Those "department tradition" cocktails laced with god-knows-what filth? I regretted enrolling right then. Other freshmen naturally bolted outside to puke or wrestled the toilet bowl. Hungover, I crawled home the next day.
That was MT for me. In my past life, articles slammed college MT culture, pushing to end it—but back then, refusing meant backlash. Graduating in the '90s, advanced human rights awareness? Not even on the radar.
"Let's do MT!"
"No."
"Come on, just tell me the vibe and I'll book something perfect. Does MT have to mean a pension? We could rent a swanky beach villa, sip whiskey. Classy-like."
"Then why not just hit a bar? What's the point of MT?"
"You gotta drink till you're wasted together, crash in the same room, wake up hungover for a big ramen hangover cure. That's how you bond."
Who'd guess this Kang Minjae was the ex-president's precious only grandson?
"Oh, so that's why you always get smashed at office dinners, crash at my place causing havoc, then hangover it out the next day? To bond with me?"
"Well, not exactly... but we are close now, right?"
"Who said?"
I wouldn't deny being close to Kang Minjae, but booze wasn't the reason. If anything, it nearly drove us apart.
"Aw, I wanna do MT though. We skipped the office workshop too. Book a pension, right? Hang out, eat, drink. It'll be awesome."
"We just went to Jinsung. Your favorite minbak, food, chats—the works."
"That was work!"
"Prosecutor."
Oh Yanghun, who'd been silently watching Kang Minjae's tantrum, finally spoke up.
"He wants it that bad. Let's go. I'd like to join too."
I'd figured the office manager was on my side. Big mistake. Our office: three people total. Two yes, one no. Majority rules—I'd already lost.
Needed to sway the undecided vote.
"Ask Reporter Choi and Jo first. We'll go with their call."
I raised my phone.
Yes: 4. No: 1. I was crushed.
We settled on Gangneung in Gangwon-do—closest spot with the sea they craved, plenty of pensions, and eateries.
Couldn't close the office for MT, so Saturday departure it was. Five total: Kim Chan-young stayed out, not outed yet and not the bonding type like Kang Minjae. He suggested Taesik and Gukjeongwon too, but adding them? Chaos. Gukjeongwon, functional alcoholic needing daily beer; Taesik, booze hound. Nightmare fuel.
"Pit stop at a rest area?"
"Why? Straight there."
"Meet at the pension then. Alright, Kang—let's roll!"
"Yep!"
Five could squeeze into one car, but Jo Bongjun's bulk made two vehicles smarter. To help Kang bond fast with those two, they rode together; me with Office Manager Oh.
Already hyped, Kang ditched his usual suit for casual flair. Suits fit him fine, but casual suited him better.
"Damn, suits look sharp on you, but casual's killer too."
"Clothes don't make the man—face does."
"Hold up. That jacket's like one I have, but it doesn't pull off that vibe on me."
"Your face ain't his."
...Fair enough.
Our cars leapfrogged to Gangneung. Oh and I parked first; Kang's pulled up soon after.
"Minjae! Pop the trunk!"
Jo Bongjun bolted out yelling.
Minjae? What was that chummy nickname?
"Sure, hyung!"
Hyung? ...What the hell happened in that car over three hours to Gangneung?
Jo Bongjun and Choi Jonghyeon hauled soju, beer crates, meat, and sides from the trunk—stuff Kang bought ahead—chatting with the pension owner before sidling over, nodding at diligently lugging-bag Kang Minjae.
"Prosecutor, Minjae's a solid guy. Love him already."
"...Looks that way."
Else they'd still be "Prosecutor Kang" and formal. No way.
"Figured he'd be some spoiled rich prick looks-wise, but he's sweet and solid."
I just wanted to tell them: You've all fallen to Kang Minjae's charm.
Soon as unpacking wrapped, Kang grabbed meat and booze for the grill.
"Maknae handles grilling. Shout when it's ready—lounge easy till then."
Jo Bongjun and Choi Jonghyeon sprang up from TV-lounging at an angle.
"Nah, we pitch in. Prosecutor, Manager—dinner time!"
6 PM. Starting early meant dragging till dawn: pour, drink, blackout mode. Grilling already?
"Take it slow, Kang."
"No way! Every minute counts. Right, hyungs?"
"Damn straight!"
"Then, then."
...Sucks always losing majority vote. Time to recruit new allies, bulk up my voter base.
"Man, so bummed I missed it. That epic BJ Choi Jonghyeon and Jo Bongjun origin story... Damn, Prosecutor, you left me out. When Bongjun hyung came as a client, first broadcast hooked me—became a fan. Take me to the studio next time. Wanna see it bad."
"Shit, kid. Don't state the obvious. Studio anytime? Head there right after Seoul tomorrow?"
"Yes! Awesome! Ugh, should've grabbed opening congrats flowers..."
Chaos. They stuffed themselves on meat, passing drinks, and got smashed fast. Chilly dawn air outside drove us in with grilled meat and sausages for round two.
Choi Jonghyeon and Oh Yanghun KO'd to bed; just us three holding the fort. I wanted sleep too, but "you look fine" kept me pinned.
"But... hyung, how'd you end up in this gig? I mean, it's... risky as hell..."
"Me? Well..."
Jo Bongjun topped his glass, trailing off. Past life, I'd only heard of him via Choi; first direct meet for me too—curious. Choi vouched him as Wooshin-hater like himself, trustworthy for Minghwa Pharma. I'd planned just that case help, but he dove deep: co-running net media with Choi, even broadcasting.
Reason for sure.
"...Old story. My dad passed."
"Aigoo, sorry... My condolences."
"Yeah? You too, Minjae—no dad?"
"Yeah... but Gramps is around, so okay."
"Heh. Yeah. Mom keeps me going."
"Hehe."
"Heh."
...Drunk, fine—but get to the point.
"Mine's sadder than yours, Minjae."
"Huh... why?"
"Wooshin—those fucking shitty bastard cunts—ruined my dad's business with their money. Hung himself. I found him first. Heh, those fuckers..."