Chapter 246
The meeting spot with Lee Se-hwa was a luxury hotel restaurant in Yeouido. When I gave the server's her name, they guided me not to the main hall—likely mindful of drawing attention—but to a private room.
"Come on in, Lawyer Cha."
Lee Se-hwa, whom I hadn't seen in a while, looked quite pleased. I couldn't tell if it was because she'd recently taken down a massive rival named Lee Jung-chan, or because she was now the one asking a favor from me after I'd ignored her calls one too many times.
"Good to see you."
"Thanks to you, Lawyer Cha, I've been just fine."
Was that sarcasm? Even if it was, there was no malice behind it. As the server set a course menu in front of me, Lee Se-hwa beat me to the punch.
"The à la carte is better here than the course. What do you think?"
"You seem to know your way around. Pick whatever you're comfortable with. I eat anything."
"I figured you'd be picky about it."
Choi Jong-hyeon and Jo Bong-jun had said something similar last time. What kind of image did I have, exactly? When I didn't respond, she requested the à la carte menu separately and placed a few orders. They were dishes with unfamiliar names I'd never heard of.
"Whenever I want to unwind or have an important meeting, I come to this hotel. The food's great, and being a foreign chain puts my mind at ease."
This hotel in Yeouido was owned by a massive international hotel group. Domestic brands were mostly under chaebols with tentacles in every industry, which made them inconvenient for someone like her, the leader of a major political party. And for good reason—chaebols relentlessly shoveled bribes at politicians, sticky and unending. That was how they'd survived since the founding of the republic.
If a prominent politician made a reservation at a hotel under a domestic conglomerate, it got reported straight up the chain. That single visit became an opening for endless follow-ups. But with a foreign company, there was no such worry. Even if it got reported, they didn't engage in aggressive lobbying. They didn't buy political insurance for emergencies. If business soured or trouble arose, they could just pull out of Korea.
"The Mo Group kept trying to give me hotel vouchers and meal coupons since I wouldn't take cash. Back when I was rising as a politician, they even offered a membership. I turned it down, but I wondered what the big deal was. Isn't membership just signing up? That's what I thought. So I asked around, and get this—you have to pay three hundred million won in dues to join."
Lee Se-hwa laughed as if recounting an amusing tale.
"A three-hundred-million-won membership. Isn't that ridiculous? We're just representatives. Representatives of the people. And not even the only one— just one among a huge crowd. If word got out that I accepted one and was lounging in luxury spas and hotels, how pissed would the public be?"
What glowed above her head was an unexpected word. It made me think she had the ideal mindset for a politician, but I couldn't stop my assessment there. Power breeds greed in everyone. And that greed doesn't point in just one direction. For some, it's aristocratic luxury like in the old monarchy; for others, scraping together wealth; for still others, just honor. I knew she didn't crave extravagant excess beyond her station. But the other two? No telling. She might be indulging in wealth through unseen channels.
Of course, I'd confirmed with my ability that she turned down chaebol money. But that didn't prove she shunned wealth entirely. Maybe it was just too much to swallow without choking. Politicians have countless ways to amass fortunes.
"I hear you've made a killing yourself, Lawyer Cha. Do you like money?"
She rested her chin on her interlaced hands, locking eyes with me. Her gaze pierced like she had the same ability I did.
"Who doesn't?"
No one hates money. Some just don't chase it. Even priests need it to build temples or synagogues, or just to survive. That's why I never trust anyone who claims to hate money.
"Then let me rephrase: Are you chasing it?"
She asked as if reading my soul.
"The more money I have, the better for what I want to do."
"What you want to do? Now I'm curious what that is for you, Lawyer Cha."
Knowing what someone craves is huge leverage, especially for someone like Lee Se-hwa who could provide it. If she learned I wanted to take down Wooshin Group, she might offer help in exchange for pulling me into her fold.
So I kept it vague. Instead:
"That's one reason I wanted to meet you."
Broadly, what I wanted was to right the wrongs from my past life. That included crushing Wooshin and saving Dongjin.
"I'm intrigued."
"It's about Han Young Electronics Executive Director Seol Hyeong-seok."
At the name from my lips, she let out a smirk. Clearly hadn't expected it. And in that moment, she probably realized what I was after: her ties to the Han Young Group chairman.
"Why Seol Hyeong-seok?"
She tilted her head, asking. Whatever it was, my request didn't thrill her. Understandable. She held me in high regard and expected big things. If my ask boiled down to chaebol drama, she'd be disappointed. But as the one begging, I had to accept that hit.
"Do you know he's hospitalized at Myeongdae Hospital with medulloblastoma?"
"I knew he was sick, but not the diagnosis. You get news fast, Lawyer Cha."
"An old friend of mine is his attending physician."
"Is that so? Sounds like the doctor's professionalism is in question. His condition's top secret—did he really leak it to you?"
"There were extenuating circumstances."
I laid it all out honestly, at length. Normally, I hid my true thoughts from politicians, even resorting to lies or bluster. I'd done the same with Kang Gwanung, Kang Min-jae's grandfather. But for this case, raw honesty felt right over polished pretense. Partly inspired by the "Value of Honesty" slogan she'd championed after becoming president in my past life.
"...I see."
She listened without interrupting until the end, then nodded slowly.
"So you want me to pass your story to the Han Young Group side?"
"Exactly."
The food arrived right after. As plates filled the table, she pondered deeply. The moment the server shut the door behind him, her eyes met mine.
"Eat. It'll get cold and taste bad."
She picked up her fork but barely touched anything.
"Not eating till you hear my answer?"
She glanced at my still hands with a laughing tone.
"Heh, it's wild that iron-willed Lawyer Cha—who they called the FM Robot even back in his prosecutor days—is asking me this for a friend. I've heard all about you."
"I know the nickname."
"They said you were by-the-book in every situation. Didn't know you could make requests like this for a buddy."
I had no reply. I'd figured she'd looked into me.
"You knew asking me would put you in my debt. Must've been uncomfortable dealing with someone like me. Your friend's lucky to have a friend like you."
She wet her throat with wine and continued.
"I'll pass the message to the chairman. He's sharp about right and wrong—he won't want the truth buried under anger about his son being a vegetable. He's mad at whoever did that to Seol, not the doctor. And if you think there's an issue, I believe there is too."
"Thank you, Representative."
People usually dressed up thanks with flowery words, but I couldn't think of any. Maybe it'd be easier with Kang Min-jae here. Then:
"Must be a burden for you to come hat-in-hand like this. So how about I ask you for one favor in return? Then we're even."
She cut to the chase with an air of delight, like my request was a welcome surprise. Maybe if I hadn't been so open... or skipped the backstory and got straight to the point, she wouldn't have agreed.
"Go ahead."
"The presidential election's coming up. You know."
"Of course."
This felt ominous.
"I'd like Lawyer Cha to join our campaign."