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CH455 | Heir
🕑 Added 2025-09-30 14:07:30 +0000 UTCCaptain Kang returned safely to Korea.
I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him calmly organizing his equipment in the office.
"Thank you for your hard work."
"Contrary to what we feared, the operation went very smoothly. The assassin had some training, but the mistakes he made suggested he wasn't professionally trained."
"Erase what happened in Malaysia from your memory. Just remember it as the time you helped an emergency patient."
There could be investigations by the National Intelligence Service or the CIA.
Ten former ROK soldiers had rescued North Korea's No. 2, so suspicion was unavoidable.
In particular, having used an atropine injection could attract even more scrutiny.
But however much suspicion they drew, it didn't matter.
No inquiry would be able to find a clear motive for rescuing No. 2, and if everyone maintained silence, there was little the authorities could do.
Besides, Captain Kang was the head of a mid-sized company.
They could simply say that ten people had moved to escort him and that they had atropine on hand.
Of course, they would be suspected for a long while.
If we stopped approaching North Korea's No. 2 from now on, the problem wouldn't escalate further.
"In fact, some of the staff don't even know exactly what the purpose of this operation was."
"You must continue to either not know or to pretend not to know, so that no problems arise."
"I'll remember. But I truly did not expect an assassination attempt. And I never imagined they'd carry out poisoning with the hard-to-obtain VX. If it weren't for the medical team at Taewoo Hospital, No. 2 would hardly have survived."
Nothing about who was behind this assassination operation became known.
There was no need to find out.
Who would commit an act like this was obvious without looking.
"According to the medical staff, it was fortunate. It wasn't VX but a substance called VX2, and two poisons had to be combined for the full effect to manifest."
"They would have achieved the full effect if they'd rubbed No. 2's face once more with the palm."
"Thanks to Captain Kang preventing further action, No. 2's life was saved."
A series of fortunate events had preserved No. 2's life.
What decisions No. 2—who survived the assassination—would make or what moves he would take were none of our concern.
We only hoped that No. 2 would create a variable large enough that North Korea would no longer dare to touch the Taewoo Group.
***
A few days later.
Director Chun Min-jung came to see me.
These days, whenever she showed up, I felt a twinge of fear.
I immediately searched her face, worried something else might have blown up. But today, she wore a mischievous smile.
"Something good happen?"
"I stumbled onto an unexpected find! While siphoning internal data through the malware we planted in Tsinghua Group, I came across this."
Director Chun handed me a file folder.
It was filled entirely with Chinese text and numbers.
But since it was related to corporate management, it wasn’t hard to guess what it contained.
"Looks like embezzlement and corruption records."
"I knew you’d recognize it right away! They’ve been taking advantage in all sorts of ways. They funneled work to a subcontractor in exchange for kickbacks, and we even found evidence of company funds being diverted into personal accounts."
The idea that government subsidies were easy money was the same all over the world.
And in the case of Tsinghua Group—hailed as the centerpiece of China’s semiconductor ambitions—the astronomical level of government support made the temptation irresistible.
How could they not be greedy?
Everyone probably knew about the skimming done quietly on the side, but chose to look the other way.
"How big is the corruption?"
"From what we’ve confirmed so far, it’s already over 100 billion won. If we add in the real estate scandals, it could easily exceed 200 billion."
They had certainly taken plenty.
Of course, the Chinese government had poured in tens of trillions for its semiconductor push.
But even so, pocketing over 200 billion won was excessive.
"Keep gathering more information. Once we secure solid evidence, we’ll release it."
"Are you planning to drive a wedge between the Chinese government and Tsinghua Group?"
"It’s not about driving a wedge—it’s about revealing the truth. Of course, that might spark some conflict along the way."
"So you mean you'll just give it a little shake."
Shaking Tsinghua Group.
Of course, Tsinghua Group wasn't single-handedly leading China's semiconductor drive.
There were companies even larger than Tsinghua, but just destabilizing Tsinghua could still produce a significant effect.
"If it becomes known that China's semiconductor push is being used to amass private wealth, the Chinese people won't stay silent."
"Is that possible? As you know, China tightly controls information."
"Even if information is controlled, it doesn't matter. It's enough if relations between China's high-ranking officials and Tsinghua Group become strained."
The semiconductor push could only succeed with wholehearted support.
But if personal corruption got involved, suspicion was inevitable.
Suspicion would slow the flow of support, and then latecomers would never be able to catch up with the pioneers.
"I'll shake them properly. I'll make sure they pay for planting a spy inside Taewoo Group!"
"The source of the information must never be revealed as Taewoo Group."
"Don't worry about that. While fighting North Korean hackers this time, we created a new channel. We can manipulate things so that the source of the information could be suspected to be North Korea."
Trying to score two wins at once?
It probably wouldn't have a major effect, but as long as Director Chun Min-jung was happy, it didn't matter what was done.
"Any other reports?"
"Nothing major to report, but we've massively upgraded the remote video conferencing system to strengthen communication with foreign researchers. I thought this update was especially necessary to facilitate collaboration on gene-editing work."
About 30% of the gene-editing research team had entered Korea.
But the remaining 70% were still based in the United States or Europe.
To collaborate effectively, communication needed to be strengthened.
And it wasn’t just the gene-editing team.
From the AI Center to other subsidiaries, many were working with foreign research institutes, and smooth communication was essential for development.
"What kind of updates did you make?"
"Nothing major—just enhanced the existing translation system using AI."
"Do you mean the accuracy improved? Or that it translates faster?"
"Both. It can now handle specialized terminology, and it provides real-time translation with only about a one-second delay. We also updated it to support both text and voice translation."
Could something like that really be so easy?
Chun Min-jung had actually created a translation program years ago out of personal necessity.
It had been the result of her refusal to learn English—so she built a program instead.
This time, it was probably for the same reason.
Since communication wasn’t running smoothly during collaborations, she must have pushed for the update.
"A one-second delay would make a big difference in communication."
"After trying it, I can confirm conversations flow much faster. By next year, our goal is to cut the delay down to about 0.5 seconds. With improvements in AI performance and in computers or mobile devices, we might be able to reduce the lag even more dramatically."
This was why I kept Chun Min-jung constantly busy.
If she was inconvenienced, she would always find a way to solve the problem herself.
"As I always say, Director Chun, you’re free to do whatever you want. If you need support, just ask."
"I’m always grateful. There’s never been a time I couldn’t do what I wanted."
"Still, make sure it doesn’t interfere with the projects you’re overseeing."
Of course, updating the translation system was important.
But Chun Min-jung was handling dozens of projects that were far more significant.
"Naturally, I’m doing that. Right now, most of my time is being devoted to the autonomous driving system."
"How’s the autonomous driving going?"
"We’ve successfully run pilot tests on certain highways. Of course, it wasn’t full self-driving—it was conditional automation, Level 3 autonomous driving."
"And how was the test response?"
"A complete success! The system flawlessly recognized and responded to surrounding conditions without a single error."
Level 3 autonomous driving.
At this point, drivers could take their hands off the wheel.
They only needed to take control when the system requested it.
Many automakers were developing autonomous driving, but none besides Taewoo Group had completed Level 3. The rest were still stuck at Level 2.
"The technology gap must be significant, then."
"We started much earlier. Other companies only began showing interest two or three years ago, but we’ve been researching autonomous driving technologies intensively for over ten years."
The gap in time mattered even more than the gap in technology.
From time to capital, we had invested far more than the others.
That was why we had secured Level 3 technology first. Now it was time to push toward Level 4.
"And development on Level 4 is going well?"
"First, we’re focusing on improving the weak points of Level 3. Errors still occur in adverse weather conditions, such as snow or rain. We must resolve this issue completely before moving into the stage of high-level automation."
From Level 4 onward, drivers would no longer be needed.
It was the true beginning of self-driving, where human driving was only required on specific roads or under certain conditions.
"Don’t be too hasty. There’s still quite a technological gap between us and the latecomers."
"But that gap can shrink quickly. We’re working as hard as possible to secure Level 4 technology soon."
"This year, we’ll move into mass production of Level 3 autonomous vehicles. Make sure to keep things steady so no problems occur."
"Don’t worry. We’ve already planned the timetable—Level 3 vehicles will enter mass production this year, and by the year after next, Level 4 vehicles will be in mass production as well."
Confidence radiated from Cheon Min-jung.
It wasn’t arrogance—just the kind of self-assurance born from years of accumulated technology and the solid backing of the AI Center.
***
A few days later.
Cheon Min-jung leaked Tsinghua Group’s files to the Chinese press.
From mainstream media to social networks, the information spread quickly, and issues began to surface.
“I was considering short-selling Tsinghua Group, but I’m glad I didn’t. The response is cooler than expected.”
“As the company sits at the heart of China’s semiconductor ambitions, the government won’t want this to escalate.”
One of the vice chairmen spoke with clear regret.
This operation was known only to me, Center Director Cheon, and that one vice chairman.
“Even so, it seems unlikely that Tsinghua Group will be able to run wild as before. Once you’ve got a black mark on your record, it takes a long time to shake it off, doesn’t it?”
“We planted the seeds of discord, but whether those seeds bloom is up to the Chinese government and Tsinghua Group. For now, we can be satisfied with having created a variable.”
How that variable would play out was impossible to predict.
But one thing was certain—things wouldn’t flow as smoothly as they once had.
“And the Saudi government has reached out. Crown Prince bin Salman will be visiting Korea soon.”
“So, stabilization has already been achieved.”
“Yes. The purges are finished, and the factions opposing him have been suppressed. It seems he’s now ready to step onto the international stage.”
“And his first overseas move is a trip to Korea. Looks like we’ll be enjoying a lively drinking party again.”
It had always been important, but going forward, ties with Saudi Arabia would be critical.
At the center of Saudi power stood bin Salman. Strengthening personal ties with him was a matter of utmost importance for the Taewoo Group.
