CH85 | MCT

The Victor of Negotiation (1)

Tae-soo quickly stopped spying.

“Uh… our boss’s car isn’t here. Looks like he already left.”

“That man—didn’t he drink?”

“Uh… well… maybe he has a driver?”

“Oh, right. What a silly question to ask.”

To Park Kyung-hye, the idea that someone might not have a personal driver was unimaginable.

Although Park Chul-wan had grown up alongside her due to the close ties between their families, it was still difficult for him not to be nervous in front of the president’s daughter.

“Why are you looking for our boss?”

“He’s handsome.”

“…”

Jung Yoon-ah turned to look at Tae-soo.

Tae-soo had a completely dumbfounded expression on his face.

Park Chul-wan, fidgeting awkwardly, came up with a good excuse.

“Oh! Kyung-hye, there’s mud on your shoes.”

“What? Really?”

“We should go. You better clean them off before they get ruined.”

Reluctantly, Park Kyung-hye turned back toward the hotel entrance.

Seeing that, Tae-soo gave up completely on his plan to catch a cab from the front of Geumsan Hotel.

He leaned in and whispered very softly to Jung Yoon-ah.

“By any chance… do you know how to drive?”

Tae-soo and Jung Yoon-ah ended up as pedestrians with no ride.

In the 1970s, it wasn’t very common for women to drive, so perhaps the outcome wasn’t surprising.

They had walked quite a distance from Geumsan Hotel to the nearest bus stop.

“The buses have stopped, and no taxis in sight either.”

“Seems that way.”

Jung Yoon-ah didn’t appear particularly worried.

“Aren’t you worried? At this rate, we might not make it home.”

“Well, you’re not going to leave me here on the street just because you can’t find a cab, right?”

Of course not.

“Do you live far? If it’s walking distance, I can walk you home—”

“It’s far.”

Jung Yoon-ah pouted.

“So, you’re trying to get me home as soon as possible? We meet again like this, almost miraculously after all this time, and you don’t even suggest grabbing a beer together?”

Tae-soo couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at her cute little pout.

She glanced back in the direction of the Geumsan Hotel and spoke.

“Is this because of that woman from earlier? She seemed pretty popular. Even had a girl following her around.”

“Absolutely not.”

Startled, Tae-soo shook his head violently.

Now that she thought about it, this man had run away from that woman—and taken her hand as they fled together.

Only then did Jung Yoon-ah smile brightly.

“You really didn’t call because you were in Saudi Arabia, right?”

“I just returned to Korea a few days ago.”

“You really lost my number, didn’t you?”

“Is this what you mean?”

Tae-soo pulled a slip of paper from his wallet—it was her contact information.

It had been tucked away in his wallet for over half a year, untouched.

Looking at her own phone number in his hand, she smiled again.

“And even after this, you’re still going to just send me home?”

Jung Yoon-ah slipped her arm through his and leaned in gently.

The soft, warm sensation against him stirred something in Tae-soo.

He remembered how her body used to respond to his touch.

He glanced at his watch.

“Unfortunately, it’s almost curfew time. Looks like we won’t be getting home tonight.”

There was still quite a bit of time before the midnight curfew sirens, but neither of them brought it up.

“Looks like we’ll have to rest over there.”

He pointed toward a small inn, clearly visible in the distance.

It was in the opposite direction of the Geumsan Hotel.

Jung Yoon-ah couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Tae-soo wrapped an arm around her waist and laughed along with her.

“Well, since we’re taking a break anyway, how about a beer?”

“I was waiting for you to finally say that.”

Jung Yoon-ah gave him a wink.

“In return, I’ll buy breakfast tomorrow morning.”

She held up the day’s wages she’d earned working as a part-time event helper at the Geumsan Hotel.

* * *

On their way home, Han Cheong-ho and his son, Han Il-kwon, sat in silence.

Han Cheong-ho kept his eyes closed the entire ride.

Eventually, he spoke for the first time.

“What did you think of Kang Tae-soo?”

“He’s got quite the sharp bite.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

Of course, it wasn’t just that.

“He’s got the kind of eyes and mouth you’d want to see on a candidate. Carries himself with power, commands presence… I’d say he’s a rare thrill to encounter.”

Han Il-kwon clenched his teeth.

“I want to crush that bastard. I want to force those arrogant eyes to lower. I want to leash him and make him crawl at my feet.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear from my son.”

Han Cheong-ho smiled with satisfaction.

“But how the hell did that guy know?”

“Know what?”

“He rattled off names—things we buried clean. And he knew all of it.”

Han Cheong-ho furrowed his brows.

“That’s why I told you to be careful. I warned you again and again that your past would come back to bite you.”

“I’m not afraid of those pests.”

“I’m not either. Weaklings can’t do real damage. Even if they bark, they barely leave a sting.”

Han Cheong-ho had tolerated his son’s reckless behavior because, until now, those he had trampled couldn’t fight back.

But this time was different.

Because the one poking at the past was Kang Tae-soo.

“A weakness changes depending on who holds it.”

Everything is relative.

“Even a tear-sized flaw can become a noose if it ends up in the hands of someone with power.”

It becomes a weapon under the guise of justice.

“But even an elephant-sized flaw is just a passing breeze in the hands of the powerless.”

In fact, that kind of flaw is better. You can pin it on the weak, make them take the fall.

No blowback. No consequences. Nothing to fear.

“Remember this—if that guy has caught the scent, you need to keep your head down for now.”

“Father, are you saying I should spend my life watching that guy’s every move?”

“No. I can forgive a kid who causes trouble, but I can’t forgive one who lives worrying about what others think.”

Han Cheong-ho said firmly.

“All you need to do is grow stronger than him.”

At that, Han Il-gwon smiled wryly.

“As expected of my father. That’s a simple and effective solution.”

“Crush him completely. A dog that’s been broken never bites its master.”

It was advice that struck a chord.

Night grew deeper.

In the banquet hall on the fifth floor of the Geumsan Hotel, famous figures were gradually leaving one by one.

As a man in his late 30s stepped out of the hall reeking of alcohol, someone approached him.

“You’re President Kim Woo-jin of Daeun Construction, correct?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Choi Mu-ryong from Chomyung Bank.”

Choi Mu-ryong handed over his business card with a smile.

“How about a drink? I have a proposal for you.”

Even without Han Cheong-ho, there were plenty of people to partner with.

To someone with little money but great potential, such an offer must feel like a godsend—

Like rain in a drought, like a founding contributor to a new kingdom, this small favor would one day be repaid as a great debt of gratitude.

* * *

January 8, 1974.

President Park Jeong-hwan declared Emergency Measures No. 1 and No. 2.

These were emergency decrees banning constitutional amendment discussions and establishing military courts.

Through this, President Park effectively made the growing movement to revise the Yushin Constitution illegal.

Tae-soo folded the newspaper.

“The dictatorship is getting worse. Even reading this again, it's horrifying.”

A few days later, on January 14,

President Park announced Emergency Measure No. 3, citing the First Oil Shock as a reason, to “stabilize the people's livelihood.”

From the next day, arrests began under suspicions of violating emergency laws.

People were so tense, they barely dared to breathe.

“It was thanks to the people who fought for democracy that Korea overcame such dark times and entered a bright 21st century. The freedom we now enjoy came at a heavy price.”

January 18.

At last, a headline hit the front page of the economic newspaper.

Cheongil Refinery Defaults!

Cheongil Refinery Suspends All Bank Transactions!

Cheongil Refinery Stock Now Worthless!

Cheongil Refinery was officially heading toward bankruptcy.

Tae-soo folded the newspaper and smiled broadly.

“Shall I go and acquire the bankrupt Cheongil Refinery now?”

Cheongil Refinery’s acquisition had already been prearranged before the company could enter court receivership due to final bankruptcy.

It was, after all, an order from President Park Jeong-hwan—there was no room for objections.

“Once I sign the acquisition contract, Cheongil Refinery will officially become Taeyang Refinery.”

Tae-soo rose to his feet.

Everything was ready.

Together with Han-soo, Tae-soo headed for the Geumsan Hotel.

He had chosen the Geumsan Hotel as the location to sign the acquisition and merger contract for Cheongil Refinery.

* * *

Han Cheong-ho’s study.

Han Cheong-ho was ready as well.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes, sir.”

Secretary Park, who had been reviewing the contract one last time, looked up.

Han Cheong-ho picked up his coat and stepped out of the study first.

Secretary Park quickly gathered the documents and followed behind.

Outside, the driver was already waiting with the engine running.

“To the Geumsan Hotel.”

The moment of truth was approaching.

Conference room at the Geumsan Hotel.

For some reason, Jang Jun-yong had arrived first.

He opened his arms to greet Tae-soo warmly as he entered the room.

“Welcome. I’ve been waiting.”

“What brings a busy man like you here at this hour, Chairman?”

“Cheongil Refinery goes completely under, and right when it’s being acquired, the deal is happening in my own hotel? This is one of those moments you couldn’t witness even if you paid for it. I had to squeeze out time to come.”

I absolutely must see what kind of face that bastard Han Cheong-ho makes.

That was why Jang Jun-yong of Geumsan had dropped everything to show up.

“I heard Cheongil’s Han Cheong-ho would be preparing the contract…”

“I brought a contract as well.”

Han-soo held up a document envelope.

Tae-soo let out a dry chuckle.

“Han Cheong-ho tried to pull something again. Are you aware?”

The news came from Jang Mal-dong, who considered himself an information merchant. Enraged, he ran out in his socks and informed Tae-soo.

Jang Mal-dong raged, shaking his finger toward the sky in the direction of Han Cheong-ho and the Cheongil Group, cursing loudly for a long time.

Jang Jun-yong had also heard the news.

“I know. I was actually waiting to meet you because of that.”

Jang Jun-yong cautiously asked:

“What do you think about just giving up on the Cheongil Refinery acquisition?”

Cheongil Refinery was the one that President Park Jeong-hwan had warned not to touch, blocking bank loans and advising other conglomerates to stay away.

For Tae-soo, acquiring Cheongil Refinery was an opportunity that he’d secured by even getting oil supply rights from Khalid.

Yet, Jang Jun-yong, concerned for Tae-soo, advised against it.

“Han Cheong-ho has done something despicable. Stealing away like that.”

Indeed, Han Cheong-ho had been scheming long before deciding to hand over Cheongil Refinery to President Park Jeong-hwan.

He had transferred all employees working at Cheongil Refinery to other affiliates.

He had stolen anything that could be useful from the facilities attached to Cheongil Refinery.

Everything that could be sold was sold off.

In this way, Han Cheong-ho did everything he could to turn Cheongil Refinery into an empty shell.

That wasn’t all.

“Han Cheong-ho didn’t just run Cheongil Refinery into the ground—he dumped all the losses from other affiliates onto it as well. He was determined to bankrupt it.”

By the time Tae-soo spoke to President Park, Cheongil Refinery’s bankruptcy was a foregone conclusion.

It was like pouring water into a leaky bucket, only to remove everything, including the water, and replace it with garbage.

It was exactly what Han Cheong-ho would do.

“He sold all the Cheongil Refinery stock before it became worthless.”

Han Cheong-ho and Cheongil Group had sold off all their shares in Cheongil Refinery, pocketing the money.

As a result, the stock price of Cheongil Refinery plummeted in just a few days.

Only the small-time investors were left grieving their losses.

“No sense of ethics. He's just trash.”

Even Jang Jun-yong, who usually kept a calm demeanor, was furious. But Tae-soo, on the other hand, calmly smiled.

Jang Jun-yong exploded in anger.

“Are you laughing now? Aren’t you frustrated? We’ve lost Cheongil Refinery, and now it’s become trash!”

“Even if on the surface, it looks like Cheongil Refinery is an empty shell, it’s not really trash.”

Jang Jun-yong stared at Tae-soo as though he were crazy.

“Cheongil Refinery is full of losses and most of its facilities have been disposed of. It’s not just an empty shell; it’s become literal trash.”

This was why Han Cheong-ho would show up arrogantly, feeling like he had dealt Tae-soo a major blow.

But what Han Cheong-ho didn’t realize was this:

“That was intentional. I wanted Han Cheong-ho to pull this shallow stunt. But I didn’t expect him to fall for it so easily. I almost feel grateful.”

This was why Tae-soo was smiling.