Chapter 227: [Live] Lee Se-hyung College Admission + Military Exemption Corruption Gift Set
As planned, Jo Bongjun and Choi Jonghyeon launched their broadcast exposing Lee Se-hyung's college admission and military exemption corruption.
Jinseong University, where Lee Se-hyung graduated, was one of Korea's premier private universities in name and reality. Any exam-taker—or parent of one—coveted it.
Yet Lee Se-hyung had entered with scores that wouldn't even get him into Seoul proper. It was all thanks to his "disability"—the lower-body paralysis that supposedly left him unable to walk, a weapon that wasn't quite a weapon.
Military exemption naturally followed.
"Our reporter Choi Jonghyeon. Seoul National University grad, right?"
"Yes."
"How hard did you study, reporter?"
"I was one of those kids they called 'Sa-dang O-rok'—sleeping just four hours and grinding away like a maniac. If you sent me back to those days now, no way I'd do it. I gave up so much for studying. Held back from kicking a soccer ball around with friends, you know."
"So, if you hadn't pushed that hard, what kind of scores do you think you'd have gotten?"
"Who knows. Maybe some school in the capital area?"
After that, Choi Jonghyeon launched into a long tale of his tear-streaked study grind. Anyone listening might've thought he was straight out of some ancient parable like Hyeongseolji-gong or Jukyeong-yadok.
"Grew up in a single-room shack. But I had to study, right? Couldn't keep the lights on while the family slept. So I'd light one candle and hunch over it. That's why my eyes went bad."
He tapped his glasses as he said it.
"No, for real."
"Okay, okay. Anyway. I busted my ass like that and got into SNU. Freshman year, heart pounding, first major class. Met this classmate—paralyzed from the waist down, couldn't use his legs. Got in through the special education track. Said his grades sucked. What do you think?"
"No big deal. I think the system's necessary. Just figured he must've struggled a ton—impressive guy."
"Then one day, I see him in some secluded spot, glancing around sneaky-like. Suddenly, he stands up from the wheelchair smooth as silk and starts fucking sprinting. The guy who couldn't walk? Bouncing a basketball like lightning on the court, nailing a layup. Not enough? He slams a dunk, fucking badass, hangs on the rim doing a ceremony. What do you think then?"
"I'd be fucking pissed. Fake-ass special ed case, low scores, but same school, same department as me. I'd storm the president's office, bitch to the student council, plaster posters everywhere."
"That's happening right now, folks. Check the screen."
In prepping the broadcast, Choi Jonghyeon and Jo Bongjun had interviewed Jinseong University's admissions office. They'd also hit up a famous cram academy, running simulations based on Lee Se-hyung's leaked transcript from a prior documentary—what university he'd have qualified for without faking the disability.
Result: Some private college in Chungcheong Province if he'd been able-bodied. No intent to rank schools by prestige, but Korea's society was steeped in academic pedigree worship, wasn't it? Lee Se-hyung had exploited exactly that to launder his credentials.
Just look at my own cases—parents were hypersensitive to college admission scandals. The Jangmyeong High incident proved it. Why steal exam papers? To boost internal grades, a golden ticket for university apps.
And second only to that? Politicians' kids dodging the draft.
"Now, on the military exemption. Every Korean guy has to serve. Youth unemployment at all-time highs, and they rot away 1 year 9 months in the army. What parent wants that? They know the suffering. But they send 'em. Why? Because they're Korean."
Lee Jeong-chan had neatly tied up college entry and draft dodging—fatal for any politician if exposed. Of course, it was crime deserving punishment, but that wasn't the only reason to hammer it. Nothing fueled the fire like this.
"Representative Lee Jeong-chan's done it all. Siphoned donation money meant for the needy into his campaign funds, rigged his kid's college and exemption. And this guy nearly became president..."
Everyone griped about the wall-of-text, but Jo Bongjun and Choi Jonghyeon perked up. The guy ID'ing as Our Economy reporter Han Jungho was seeking the exact person standing behind Kim Jeongu, watching the broadcast.
"Hold up. You're the Our Economy reporter? Ah, we saw your email. Didn't we reply?"
"Hmm, with viewers here, quick rundown. He emailed us about the whistleblower. Attention's on who it is lately. But they demanded total anonymity, so we protect that—no guessing games. Instead, as we said, we handed police the call recordings with the whistleblower and our full logs."
Since Rep. Jo Hyuk-geun went on radio demanding the Salt and Light whistleblower, hunters multiplied. Related posts surged, "whistleblower" trended briefly. Even news covered it.
"We've done all we can, know nothing about them. Chance to say it: Not acquaintances, total strangers. No clue why they picked us. Media hounding us to spill—honestly, we don't know. Police will confirm if we're lying."
A deflection ploy? Jo Hyuk-geun appeared to demand Lee Jeong-chan's resignation, but focus shifted to the whistleblower. Lee Jeong-chan's camp saw an opening, zeroing in on me. Luckily, with scandals piling up and prosecution probe just days old, eyes didn't stray far.
Problem: Curiosity exploded.
"Yes."
Air chilled briefly, but soon back to pace. Broadcast ran another hour before wrapping.
"Let's check reactions."
Cameras off, Choi Jonghyeon and Jo Bongjun huddled at the laptop. Post-broadcast ritual: portal search for themselves. Celebrity delusion level max.
"What the hell."
Jo Bongjun yelped. I turned from chugging water from the fridge.
"Cha lawyer, come here."
"What's up?"
"Hurry."
He gestured, eyes glued to the monitor. Uneasy vibe—Kim Jeongu, packing camera gear, beat me there. Read something, then yelled my way.
"Lawyer, you gotta see this now."
"What is it?"
I stepped into the spot he vacated, eyed the screen.
Article headline. Source: Our Economy. By Han Jungho reporter—the broadcast chatterbug.
Jo Bongjun stood, yielding his seat. I sat, scrolled the mouse wheel.
...Lawyer Cha [surname anonymized] has been controversial for handling high-profile cases in recent years. Recently faced prosecution probe over stock/real estate speculation and tax evasion allegations.
Such a figure is now suspected as the 'whistleblower' by some. Witness A attended the Salt and Light Foundation event where Lee Se-hyung's video originated. A donated massive sums annually for a decade, attending every year. Per A, it was Cha's first time there. Also learned via contacts that Cha wasn't a congregant, which seemed odd.
Witness B, a Salt and Light Foundation staffer, testified Cha suddenly donated 500 million won the week before the event. No prior ties, so internal surprise. B speculates it was to gain entry—requires 500 million annual donation for invite.
Cha defended internet broadcaster Jo Bongjun, sued for spreading false info in the Myung Hwa Pharma Antrozol Alpha case. Later appeared on Jo's broadcast, flaunting ties.
Hosts Jo Bongjun and Choi Jonghyeon claim no acquaintance with whistleblower, but these links suggest otherwise...