Chapter 212 "Can You Hear It?"
Sanggil finished installing the bug on Lee Se-hyung's wheelchair and bolted straight out of the Light and Salt Disabled Welfare Foundation. When he burst into the office wearing that cute T-shirt with a heart on it, Taesik doubled over laughing so hard tears nearly sprang from his eyes.
> "Welfare officer, a reporter stopped by?"
> "Oh, really? I need to wrap this up and head out quick."
The downside was that Lee Se-hyung probably didn't use the wheelchair once he got home. Installing a bug inside Lee Jeong-chan's house was next to impossible anyway. This was a solid Plan B. At the very least, they'd catch conversations in the car or anything near the wheelchair.
"This scamming bastard's heading home now. Sound quality's pretty damn good, huh?"
Sanggil plopped down next to Taesik, grinning ear to ear. The bug from the NIS lived up to the hype—decent audio quality that picked up even small noises and breathing. Of course, being on a powered wheelchair meant they'd have to tune out the mechanical whirring when it moved.
> "I'll head in first!"
> "Yeah, see you tomorrow!"
A car door opened with a click, and the wheelchair jolted once. He must've been climbing in.
"From what I saw, he rides a van to work. Sedans are a pain to transfer into with the chair, so he picked something wheelchair-friendly. I thought he only used sedans at first—my bad, I missed it."
Taesik snorted. "Politicians really go all-in on their cons. That's how you fool people these days—half-ass it, and no one bites."
"Even had a disabled parking sticker on it."
"Bullshit. Hold up—you missed it? You said the tint made it hard to see who was driving, and that's why it took so long. But the sticker was right there in plain view?"
"Uh, boss, that was..."
Taesik locked Sanggil in a headlock and flicked his crown hard. "You little shit. Why'd you miss it? Why?!"
"I was playing that fish-shaped bun tycoon game... The baking speed's got limits, but that lady kept nagging for more buns. What was I supposed to do?!"
"...Fair enough. That lady's a pain in the ass."
Taesik released him and leaned back into the bug feed. No chatter after he got in the car. Did he not talk to the driver?
Then a jolt rattled the speakers.
> "Ah, fuck! Hey, mister. Drive straight, goddamn it!"
> "Sorry. Guy cut in suddenly."
> "Ugh, fuck. Can't even drive right. I'm already pissed enough to lose my mind."
> "......Sorry. I'll be careful."
The driver's voice sounded like a mid-50s veteran.
"What an ungrateful punk. Some snot-nosed kid cussing out an elder like that?!"
As expected, Taesik erupted. He looked the brute type, but he respected his elders—always yielding seats on buses or subways, helping with heavy loads. Too bad people took one look at his build and face and backed off before he could play the good Samaritan.
> "A pro driver who can't even handle the wheel properly—what good are you?"
> "......"
> "That's why I'm putting up with you. Ever driven for another family, mister?"
> "Used to drive for the lady of Hyeosang Group..."
> "Hyeosang Group's wife? She's got a temper, from what I hear. They fired you, huh?"
> "N-no, personal reasons..."
> "Personal reasons, my ass. You got canned for sucking at it."
> "......"
> "Eh, whatever. Won't see your face after next week anyway."
> "......Next week's your surgery?"
> "You asking 'cause you don't know? You're dropping me at the airport next Friday morning—your last gig. Check the schedule if you wanna get paid right, mister."
I didn't know much about Lee Se-hyung. After Lee Jeong-chan won the presidency, he'd stayed out of the political spotlight, so he wasn't on my radar. Even Choi Jonghyeon had only mentioned his legs were fine—nothing else.
But now it was clear he'd omitted a key detail: Lee Se-hyung was home-schooled in rudeness.
> "N-no, I remember."
> "Fuck, then say it. Get it wrong, and I dock a million won from your severance."
> "Next Friday at 10 a.m. to the airport. Then you're off..."
Next Friday, 10 a.m. Lee Se-hyung's rudeness handed us his departure date on a platter.
> "Then why ask if you knew?"
> "Just... wishing you a smooth surgery."
> "It'll be fine, fuck. You want it to fail?"
> "Oh, no, of course not."
> "Anyway. Got a gig lined up, mister?"
> "Looking into it."
> "Don't fuck up like this elsewhere, got it? I'm the only one putting up with you. Remember that."
> "Not driving—something else."
> "Smart move. Driving ain't your thing. It's a mess. Even a gimp like me could do better."
"This guy's manners are off the charts. Makes me wanna deck him."
"No kidding. Total Jekyll and Hyde."
Sanggil, the only one of us who'd met Lee Se-hyung face-to-face, looked stunned. "He seemed so nice-looking and soft-spoken. Total bullshit."
"Boss, when we drop the bomb on his legs, leak this bug too. This'll blow up huge."
"That'd just screw over the innocent reporter."
Celebs and bigwigs in politics and business made hires sign NDAs—maids, nannies, drivers. Folks who saw their dirty laundry up close. Pay wasn't great, but no one refused; leaks meant crippling penalties.
Even if we leaked the bug and the driver spilled, who'd believe him over them? Worst case, we'd get hauled in for illegal wiretapping.
No big loss. Popping one scam from the Lee rich boys would sink them anyway.
"We bugged for his travel date from the start, and we got it. Shut it down?"
"Nah, keep listening. Might snag more. Track his schedule till takeoff."
Now I needed to figure how to expose his working legs most effectively.
"...So Lee Se-hyung's legs are fine?"
Ten days till his flight. No drop plan yet, but it had to blow before then, so I looped in Jo Bongjun and Choi Jonghyeon.
"Yeah."
"No way..."
Choi Jonghyeon, the star of this scoop, shook his head in disbelief. "Who said?"
"Friend's a neurosurgeon at Myeongun University Hospital. He told me."
"...Damn."
I name-dropped Dongjin. He had no clue, but I'd hauled his undies and socks to his building's security desk enough times—this was payback.
"So it's common knowledge at Myeongun?"
"Nah, just the neuro chief and rehab chief know. My friend stumbled on it."
"Jackpot, but..."
Morning news buzzed with party primaries. Everyone assumed Minwoo Party's nod would go to Lee Jeong-chan—and he'd win. If not for my second life, I'd have bet the same. Politics aside.
"We gotta drop it. On our broadcast."
Jo Bongjun's eyes gleamed. "Site's ready. Make it the debut article."
"Sounds good?"
"But can your lawyer friend provide proof?"
"Doubt it. His buddy's up for assistant prof review."
"Yeah, can't tank his career over this."
They nodded, brainstorming evidence hunts.
"One photo of him walking straight-legged would seal it. If only."
"Yeah. Tail him?"
"Gotta try, but don't hold your breath. If it was that easy, it'd be out already. He's faked paralysis for eight years. Eight. When did his legs heal? Korea surgery? Find the hospital, we could dig."
Lee Jeong-chan expert through and through, Choi Jonghyeon spun scenarios fast.
Sorry to disappoint, but I added, "To drop it, we need to before next Friday morning."
"Huh? Why?"
"...Friend says he's flying to Germany for surgery then."
"What? Legs fine, and he needs surgery?"
Jo Bongjun blinked. Choi Jonghyeon nodded. "Election's coming. Fake the surgery now, rehab later—by election time, he walks. Lee Jeong-chan's cult will call it a miracle, sweeping the old folks' votes."
Classic Choi Jonghyeon—nailing the cheap tricks.
"Next Friday... There's a charity gala Wednesday with Lee Jeong-chan. Light and Salt gives plaques to 2010's big donors—over 500 million won. He's probably hitting that first."
"How do you know?"
"Election season—gotta track the Lee Jeong-chan schedule to be an expert."
"That event on?"
Celebs, ass-kissing pols—Light and Salt was Lee Se-hyung's nest, prime spot for Lee Jeong-chan wannabes to donate and shine. Obvious play. Reporters would swarm.
Hmm, charity gala.
"Got a good idea."