Chapter 32: Eighty Million Won

“Barring any major upsets, the ruling party is expected to hold the advantage in the upcoming presidential election. It appears the ruling party is working behind the scenes for the election, and if we ride this momentum, couldn’t we eliminate all sorts of noise regarding your appointment as Chairman, Representative?”

Seungho quietly laid out his opinion.

“I suppose they are weighing whether to take Song Yoosun’s hand or mine.”

The time was drawing near for the political circles, which had been sizing each other up, to rapidly secure their own interests and line up.

It was truly the end of the presidential term.

It was an unofficial truth that Gayun Group had maintained a favorable stance toward the ruling party and contributed significantly to the current president rising to his position.

Under such circumstances, a scenario where Yoon Leehyun—who appeared out of nowhere—took the Chairman’s seat instead of Song Yoosun’s son, Yoon Jihoon, was something even the ruling party had never envisioned.

Thus, the ruling party had no choice but to be on high alert regarding the upcoming presidential election, as they could not be certain of Leehyun’s next move.

“That is—”

While Seungho hesitated, unable to answer, Leehyun spoke.

“Aren’t they simply wondering whether I, the legitimate heir of Gayun, will stand on the ruling party’s side and obediently act like a sweet tongue in their mouth?”

His low, emotionless voice was terrifyingly cold.

“……”

Seungho swallowed hard and maintained his silence.

“I don’t believe my position is precarious enough to require the ruling party’s assistance.”

Leehyun knew it as well: that not everything Song Yoosun had done while controlling Gayun Group to put Yoon Jihoon in the Chairman’s seat had taken place within the boundaries of the law.

Seungho was worried that falling out with the ruling party needlessly might cause Leehyun to be entangled in the messes Song Yoosun had created so far.

“Representative.”

“Just in case, gather everything on the figures tied to the ruling party.”

National Assembly members, ministers, and even the President.

Leehyun frowned in annoyance at the fact that people sitting in positions they could never have attained without corporate support had so much to say.

“Yes, I will give the order immediately.”

Leehyun tapped his finger against the desk, tap.

“Ah, look into the opposition party’s next presidential contenders as well.”

“The opposition party…… sir?”

“Is South Korea not a place where the opposition becomes the ruling party and the ruling party becomes the opposition?”

Take what is needed and discard what is cumbersome.

Leehyun gave the arrogant order as if he lacked nothing, as if he would replace even the President if anyone dared stand in his way.

***

A blue roof nestled beneath the verdant sky.

The place, where birds chirped and well-manicured tree branches curved like a painting, was utterly peaceful.

A man with a smooth forehead, a long nose, and sharp, handsome features sat with his back to the phoenix emblem, staring intently at his mobile phone.

The monotonous ringing tone that had persisted while he tapped the desk repeatedly, tap, tap, tap, finally cut off.

– The subscriber you have dialed cannot be reached……

“Cannot be reached……”

His deep voice broke off abruptly, just like the disconnected dial tone.

The 21st President of South Korea, Jung Jaehyun.

His grandfather, the 8th President of South Korea who had served in the 3rd and 5th National Assemblies, and his father, a graduate of Hankuk University College of Law who served as Prime Minister before tasting defeat in the 16th through 18th presidential elections, had ultimately placed him in the presidential seat.

“I cannot simply summon a mere art gallery director at will, what a troublesome situation……”

She would need to hold at least a representative seat in Gayun Group for him to call her in under the pretext of a breakfast meeting, but Song Yoosun’s current position was no longer capable of even that, making it extraordinarily troublesome.

Jaehyun pulled out his personal tablet instead of his work device and examined articles related to HBN’s Friday Night.

Looking at the words still floating in the live chat—such as Yoon Leehyun’s biological mother, Ha Yunmi, orphan, and violinist—his gaze fixed on the phrase ‘Yoon Junghwan’s romance of the century.’

“Mr. President.”

Loosening his tie as if stifled upon the arrival of his Chief of Staff, Jaehyun closed the tablet with a thud and spoke.

“Nonsensical words are still floating around the chat window.”

“Well……”

The Chief of Staff bowed his head in awkwardness.

“Must I personally meet with the portal site’s representative?”

At the tone that went beyond displeasure into genuine anger, the Chief of Staff flinched.

“As you know, people nowadays react sensitively to actions like manipulating or deleting comments.”

“Under the Personal Information Protection Act and Telecommunications Act, we cannot even screen portal users’ political inclinations at will, so wouldn’t it be better to feign ignorance?”

“Feign ignorance and just watch?”

Jaehyun curved his lips in a long line and caressed his coffee cup.

“Yoon Leehyun’s biological mother, Ha Yunmi, and Yoon Junghwan’s romance of the century.”

“Is erasing these three terms truly that difficult in South Korea?”

“I will make another effort.”

“With less than a year left in my term, let us wrap things up cleanly without any noise.”

“Do not forget that only then will there be a future for you as well, Chief of Staff.”

As if telling him to choose his actions wisely, Jaehyun tapped his temple with his index finger, tap, tap.

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“And so, what are Yoon Leehyun’s movements?”

“There are no notable anomalies as of yet.”

“At this rate, his appointment as Chairman appears smooth.”

Yoon Leehyun.

The son of Ha Yunmi and Yoon Junghwan.

Recalling the fact that everyone knew, Jaehyun suddenly clenched his fists tight.

***

“Director. These are the cooperation details regarding this upcoming international art fair.”

As the secretary submitted the report, Yoosun examined the proposal with a serious expression.

“WOA?”

The art fair, which started in the United States over twenty years ago, had now become a global festival.

Because it was a large-scale art fair where contemporary artists eagerly vied to exhibit their works, interest ran high every year.

“WOA has expanded all the way to Korea this time?”

“SENT acquired a content enterprise, and following that, they are currently pushing forward to host WOA in cooperation with Hanseo City this year.”

At the report that the content enterprise acquired by SENT was none other than the largest shareholder of WOA, Yoosun rolled a golf ball in one hand.

Her face clearly showed her calculating whether this would benefit her or not.

“They are currently requesting to rent the Gayuljae annex as the venue for the opening eve gala.”

“So it’s true that SENT acquired LOAL.”

SENT’s influence must have been substantial in selecting South Korea as the Asian host country.

Unlike her slow hands turning the pages one by one, her eyes moved busily to calculate her profits.

JBS and SENT had founded a joint corporation, SENT had acquired LOAL, and on top of that, they requested a venue rental at Gayuljae.

If played right, could this be an opportunity to rebuild her shattered standing?

Yoosun was certain that this project would draw immense public attention.

Perhaps global attention would focus on South Korea.

More accurately, on herself, the one who made WOA a success.

“What is the reaction from the Galleries Association of Korea?”

“It is a half-and-half mix of welcome and concern.”

While it was positive in that young Korean artists could advance onto a global stage, they worried that too much attention would focus solely on WOA, overshadowing local artists.

“Freeloading as they are, how can they be so greedy?”

They wanted to join an international exhibition, yet hated the idea of attention focusing solely on it.

Yoosun frowned with annoyance.

“Still, it seems like an understandable reaction from the Galleries Association of Korea.”

Although the secretary pointed out their concern that the attention meant for domestic artworks might be redirected to foreign works, Yoosun did not take it to heart.

The position of the Galleries Association of Korea was none of her concern.

“Take plenty of time for the review. Gayuljae is not a place that grants venue rentals to just anyone.”

Even as she curved one corner of her mouth as if having already decided on the rental, she maintained her haughty attitude to the end.

At least during Yoosun’s tenure as Director, Gayuljae had never rented out its annex for an external event.

Therefore, even if she approved the rental, she had to drag it out as long as possible.

To demonstrate that Gayuljae’s approval was no ordinary venue rental.

“Director, it’s Secretary Park.”

Secretary Park, who knocked softly before hurrying in, paused upon seeing the female secretary giving her report to Yoosun.

“What is it?”

When Yoosun asked with a gesture of her chin, Secretary Park hesitated.

“Leave us.”

As Yoosun waved her right hand to dismiss the secretary, Secretary Park stepped closer.

“Speak.”

“We received a call from Gallery Jung.”

Yoosun, who had been flipping through an art catalog with one hand and rolling a golf ball with the other, snapped her head up.

“What message?”

“They asked us to confirm the deposit for the balance on Valin Debussy’s The Side of the Wall purchased previously.”

“Did you check it?”

“Yes, I checked. But Director……”

Secretary Park avoided Yoosun’s gaze, looking flustered.

“Eighty million won was confirmed deposited.”

“What?”

Yoosun’s voice rose higher than ever before.

Not 1.8 billion won, but eighty million?

Had she misheard?

“When putting in 1.8 billion wouldn’t even be enough, what, eighty million?”

Yoosun demanded once more.

“They added that originally there was no amount to deposit, but that this was specially provided as a commission fee.”

“What kind of utter nonsense is that!”

Yoosun sprang to her feet.

The golf ball rolled, roll, roll, all the way to Secretary Park’s feet.

He reflexively flinched and stepped back.

‘That’s impossible.’

Yoosun ground her teeth.

‘How dare they, after all the money I invested.’

Yoosun’s cheek twitched with rage.

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