The Former Chaebol Heir Excels as President

Chapter 56: A War Without Gunfire (2)

As autumn deepened, the trees in front of the apartment had shed all their leaves.

I stared quietly at the security guard sweeping the fallen leaves and fell into thought.

If Father were still alive, he would be about that age.

“Dear, the young lady is here.”

8 a.m.

What brings her at this hour?

I opened the veranda door and stepped into the living room.

Yeonhwa had come by with clothes for the baby.

“Why did you bring something like this, young lady? It’s lovely.”

“Now that I’m earning money, I should repay the kindness I received from Oppa.”

I walked up to Yeonhwa.

“What brings you here so early in the morning?”

“I stopped by on my way to work. I have something to brag about to Oppa.”

“What is it?”

Yeonhwa wore an expression as if she owned the world.

What was she going to say?

“I founded a company. The Best Music. TBM is the company name.”

“A company? Isn’t it too early?”

“The album I released earlier this year did well. Indie music is getting mainstream love, so I thought this was the perfect timing.”

“Do you have signed artists too?”

“Of course. I’ve already got five teams. I actually have a surprisingly wide network.”

So the album she released earlier this year had done well.

I occasionally heard Yeonhwa’s songs playing on the radio.

“What about the money?”

“I can manage it on my own, so don’t worry. By the way, how’s the election prep going? I saw the polls, and there’s about a 15% gap.”

“We need to unify the candidates.”

“Will unification actually happen?”

“It will. I have to go to work, so stay and rest a while.”

“What about On-chan?”

“Young lady, he’ll wake up soon.”

I put on my suit jacket.

“I’m heading out.”

“Oppa, you have to win and get into the Blue House. I really want to see the Blue House.”

“Even if I win, that doesn’t mean I get to go to the Blue House. Where did you hear that nonsense?”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m leaving now.”

I headed to Yeouido, where the presidential campaign office was located.

The campaign occupied the 4th and 5th floors of a building in the heart of Yeouido.

I entered the media headquarters on the 4th floor.

The Head of Media was a three-term lawmaker, Gyeon Hunsik.

Including myself, there were a total of three Members of Parliament and five experts, making up a team of eight.

Having earned recognition for my speaking ability through interpellation sessions and national audits, I was in charge of debate preparation.

Since having two opposition candidates would guarantee a loss, unification was inevitable in some form, and we had to prepare for the debate accordingly.

Gyeon Hunsik asked me,

“Assemblyman Kang.”

“Yes.”

“Preparation going well?”

“I’ll have a draft ready in five days.”

Politics, economy, national security, and the open agenda debate — I was in charge of the open agenda portion.

I judged that our candidate was too gentlemanly and needed to project a stronger image.

Yosutusu (如水投水).

Like water poured into water.

The candidate’s strengths were that he was gentlemanly, mild, and had good manners — but the downside was that he couldn’t deliver a strong message.

To leave a strong impression on the public, he needed to show a distinct color.

But our candidate lacked that.

A designer who had joined the campaign as an image consultant once voiced frustration to me.

‘The candidate insists too much on being natural. No matter how many times I tell him he needs to dress up in luxury suits and wear makeup to change his image, he won’t listen.’

The candidate was such a modest person that he disliked dressing up.

In contrast, the opposing candidate wore a classic brooch, a simple necklace, and modest, neat outfits that evoked nostalgia and an image of the common folk.

I agreed with the designer’s opinion.

But what could we do?

The candidate was adamant.

“Since this is the unification candidate debate, we need to dominate during the open agenda portion.”

“Understood.”

My strategy was simple.

I would bombard the opponent with a series of difficult questions, driving them into a groggy state. If the opponent got angry, I would respond calmly and establish a comparative advantage.

In short, the strategy was to provoke mistakes from the opponent.

I had just finished investigating around Assemblyman Yang Chil-su to identify his weaknesses.

Gyeon Hunsik had gone upstairs for a meeting, and I was scanning the news articles.

— Are there any measures for household debt?

— Large marts to close twice a month, partnership agreement with markets

— Global financial instability spreads, importance of economic democratization emphasized!

— What’s the solution to economic democratization?

— Far-right parties thriving amid global economic crisis

— Ruling party confident of victory!

Most of the daily newspapers used “economic democratization” in their headlines, making it seem like they were promoting the ruling party’s candidate’s pledges.

The playing field was tilted.

Could we turn the tide by dominating the debate?

Assemblyman Seong Chang-rae once said that voters usually make up their minds before the debate, so it doesn't have a major impact.

However, he added that if one says something memorable or makes a serious mistake during the debate, it could sway the centrists.

Either create an unforgettable quote or decisively knock down the opponent.

One or the other was necessary.

As I also had to prepare for the runoff, I reviewed a notebook compiling the ruling party candidate’s remarks. Since he had the image of being principled, I needed to find areas to break.

While I was deeply immersed, a voice called me from behind.

“Assemblyman Kang.”

It was Assemblyman Seol Ho-jae, a three-term lawmaker serving as Chief Secretary.

“Yes, Chief Secretary.”

“There’s somewhere we need to go.”

“Pardon?”

“Just come with me for now.”

What he said was shocking enough to leave me speechless.

It was about meeting the working-level officials from Yang Chil-su’s side for candidate unification.

It was a directive from the Party Leader.

Me?

Why?

I didn’t know the reason, but it was clearly a valuable opportunity to gain in-depth experience in the presidential race.

A hotel in Yeouido.

Seol Ho-jae and I stopped in front of Room 705.

“Assemblyman Kang, just listen to the negotiation and try to grasp their intention.”

“Understood.”

“Don’t step in.”

“Yes.”

Knock knock—

As the door opened, the Chief Secretary from Yang Chil-su’s camp appeared.

“Welcome.”

“Nice to meet you.”

The two men shook hands, and I bowed.

“Hello. I’m Kang Cheonmyeong.”

“So you brought a first-term lawmaker. Please come in.”

Inside, there were two more people.

I learned who they were through introductions.

A lawyer and a professor.

They said they worked in the situation room.

After we took our seats on the sofa, Seol Ho-jae spoke first.

“I’ve been delegated full authority by our candidate. I hope we can make progress.”

“I feel the same. Our candidate fully understands that without unification, there’s no winning.”

“Assemblyman Yang Chil-su shares the same basic direction as us, doesn’t he? There’s little difference in our policies on working-class and economic matters. Even our North Korea policies align in major directions.”

“The issue is politics. As long as the establishment forces dominate, political development in our country is impossible.”

Just as expected.

Breaking the dominance of the two major parties.

Since Assemblyman Yang Chil-su had been calling for clearing out old politics, I expected such remarks.

“Do you have a blueprint for political development?”

“New water must flow. The old will inevitably rot.”

“Is Candidate Yang Chil-su willing to join our party? If so, we can consider things positively.”

“The premise has to be that the new water leads the way. If a rabbit enters a tiger’s den, it’s natural for it to get eaten, isn’t it?”

“Are you saying we should yield the candidacy?”

“That’s a matter for discussion. There’s no need to jump ahead.”

It was vague.

The opposing Chief Secretary’s words sounded like: if we yield the candidacy, they would join our party. However, by saying it was a matter for discussion and avoiding a firm statement, he muddied the core issue.

“Public polling is the most suitable way to unify. No one can object to that. I think it’s best to hold a one-on-one debate and decide through polling.”

“If we run a poll, the support base will scatter. One side needs to yield through negotiation. There’s not much time.”

“Why do you think so? After confirming unification, we can form a joint Campaign Committee and combine forces.”

“We have less than two months left. You know well how difficult it is to agree on the wording of a poll in that time.”

“That’s why I’m here. If we narrow the gaps one by one, it could go quickly. There’s no major issue with drafting a joint declaration, is there?”

I stored and analyzed the opposing Chief Secretary’s expressions and words in my head.

His demeanor was relaxed. He subtly implied that it was our candidate who was under pressure.

“There are differences even in the joint declaration. We’ve always insisted on breaking the politics of the establishment. Stagnant waters must be drained.”

“If we write that kind of content, senior Members of Parliament in the party could be seen as targets for elimination. You’re well aware of the impact such a declaration can have, aren’t you?”

“Let’s first agree on the debate today. No matter how unification is done, the debate has to happen.”

So we exchanged views on the topics and format of the debate.

The opposing Chief Secretary wanted to allocate more time to politics and the economy, while Seol Ho-jae emphasized the open agenda debate.

As a result, the gap in opinions didn’t narrow. We agreed to meet again and left the hotel.

Inside the car on the way back to the office.

Assemblyman Seol Ho-jae asked for my opinion.

“What’s your impression, Assemblyman Kang? No matter how I try to think positively, it sounds like they intend to take over our party.”

“They seem certain that time is on their side. They didn’t appear to have much intention to negotiate toward an outcome.”

“They’re too relaxed. Doesn’t it seem like they’re avoiding the public poll?”

“He subtly expressed it earlier, but it seems they intend to join our party if we concede the candidacy. Since he kept talking about new water, isn’t that a sign they expect the leadership to resign?”

Seol Ho-jae looked at me with surprised eyes.

“You’re saying they’re thinking that far? If we change the leadership now, how do we run the election?”

“It reads like they want to replace it with their own people.”

“How many experienced politicians do they even have to run a presidential campaign? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I can’t understand that part either, but the nuance suggests it. Avoiding a public poll means they’re determined to extract a concession one way or another.”

“Huh.”

Seol Ho-jae made an incredulous expression.

I added,

“Isn’t it obvious, since they’re emphasizing new water? They’re the new water, so the stagnant ones should step aside. That’s also the reason they insist on including the elimination of establishment politics in the joint declaration.”

“They’re that bold?”

“They seem to lack confidence in a public poll. They entered the negotiation expecting a concession.”

Seol Ho-jae furrowed his brow and sank into thought.

It seemed he was chewing over what the opposing Chief Secretary had said.

As the car neared the campaign office, Seol Ho-jae turned to me and asked,

“What do you think we should do in this situation, Assemblyman Kang?”

“We need to make a decision. If we also stall against an indecisive opponent, there will be no negotiation. That will lead to endless fragmented talks, and the unification effect will be halved.”

“You mean we should concede?”

“We may need to push as much as possible while selectively conceding conditions.”

“Hm. I understand your opinion, Assemblyman Kang. I’ll report to the Representative and we’ll discuss further.”

To win in a difficult election, decisions must be made.

Since we held our primary a month later than the Korea Unification Party, we needed to move fast.

Right now, speed was everything.

Only that way could we change our fate.