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CH244 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-03-23 03:55:03 +0000 UTCA few days later, Hanseong Building in Yeouido, Seoul.
In the 10th-floor president’s office of the New Era National Council—an offshoot of the Minpyeong Party—three men were gathered.
The room was modestly furnished, and on one wall hung a large national map displaying the electoral districts finalized just a few months earlier in preparation for the upcoming election.
Sitting on a sofa with his hands resting on the armrests, Party President Kim Jae-chun gazed at his close aides seated across from him.
Woo Chun-il, the Secretary-General responsible for party affairs, and Choi Jae-young, the Floor Leader who handled negotiations in the National Assembly, were Kim Jae-chun’s most trusted confidants—his right and left arms.
Perhaps because they had just wrapped up a lengthy strategy meeting on the general election, all three men showed signs of slight fatigue.
“This is the finalized list of 46 candidates for the proportional representation seats.”
Kim Jae-chun set down his coffee cup and took the list from Choi Jae-young, reviewing it carefully.
After a moment, his brows knitted slightly as if something displeased him, and he looked up.
“What was the cutoff for a safe proportional representation seat again?”
At this, Choi Jae-young, a man of stocky build, glanced at Kim Jae-chun’s expression before answering cautiously.
“Number 19.”
“I mean in realistic terms, not in the case where we achieve our goal of becoming the largest party in the Assembly.”
At Kim Jae-chun’s remark, Choi Jae-young exchanged a brief look with Woo Chun-il before replying again.
“Even if unforeseen circumstances lead to a lower-than-expected vote share, at least up to number 15 should be safe for election.”
Though the number had decreased compared to the previous general election, the proportional representation seats still numbered 46. Given that, Kim Jae-chun also believed that securing at least 15 seats was a realistic expectation.
Placing the candidate list on the solid wood table, Kim Jae-chun spoke.
“But I see that my name is listed as number 1.”
Aiming for a presidential bid, Kim Jae-chun had decided to run for a proportional representation seat instead of a district seat, as he would have to resign from the National Assembly upon officially declaring his candidacy.
If he were elected in a district, a by-election would be required upon his resignation. However, with proportional representation, the next candidate in line would automatically take his seat, allowing the New Era National Council to maintain its number of seats—an advantageous strategy for the party.
“As the face of our party, it’s only natural that you should take the number 1 spot.”
Woo Chun-il added in agreement.
“That’s right. If not you, Mr. President, then who else would be number 1? Moreover, this will reinforce the idea that we, not the Minpyeong Party, are the legitimate successors of the opposition, which could boost our vote share.”
However, Party President Kim Jae-chun still looked dissatisfied.
“I understand what you’re saying. But on the other hand, won’t some people accuse me of taking the number one spot in the proportional representation list out of fear of losing in a district election?”
“Who would say such nonsense?”
Choi Jae-young, the Floor Leader, immediately raised his eyebrows, speaking as if the idea was absurd.
Woo Chun-il, the Secretary-General, echoed the sentiment with a similar expression.
“Whether it’s your hometown of Mokpo or any other competitive district, you would have no trouble getting elected. That accusation is baseless.”
Kim Jae-chun looked at the two men with a somewhat displeased expression before speaking again.
“Of course, that’s true. But if someone with ill intent spreads such a rumor, you both know how easily voters can be misled during a chaotic election season.”
“Hmm…”
The two men exchanged uneasy glances.
Having spent decades navigating the ruthless political arena of Yeouido, they knew better than anyone that elections were rife with all kinds of misinformation and smear campaigns.
“And considering next year’s presidential election, it would be best not to create any unnecessary controversies that could be used against us.”
Winning this general election was a given, but Kim Jae-chun’s real focus was already on the fast-approaching presidential race.
Sensing his intentions immediately, Choi Jae-young asked cautiously.
“Then what would you like us to do?”
Instead of answering, Kim Jae-chun turned to Woo Chun-il and asked,
“Do you have a pen?”
“Oh, yes.”
Woo Chun-il hurriedly pulled a fountain pen from his inner pocket and handed it over.
Gripping the pen, Kim Jae-chun swiftly crossed out his name at the top of the list.
After a brief moment of thought, he rewrote his name next to number 14 and straightened his posture.
“Let’s change the ranking to this.”
Choi Jae-young looked at the new placement with slight concern.
“Isn’t number 14 too low?”
“I agree. Perhaps somewhere around number 10 would be more reasonable…”
Woo Chun-il furrowed his brows, also looking worried.
“But didn’t you both just say that number 15 was still within the safe zone?”
Kim Jae-chun’s calm remark left Choi Jae-young momentarily speechless.
“But, Mr. President…”
As Woo Chun-il tried once again to dissuade him, Party President Kim Jae-chun raised a hand to stop him.
“I’ve already taken that into account, which is why I moved my name up one spot to number 14. This way, both our party members and the voters will see my sincerity—my willingness to serve the nation without seeking privilege—rather than falling for baseless rumors.”
Though some lingering concerns remained, Kim Jae-chun’s firm resolve left both with no room for further objections.
“If that is your decision, Mr. President, we have no choice but to respect it.”
“Your self-sacrificing gesture will move many party members and citizens, and they will rally behind you with their support.”
Kim Jae-chun’s decision to voluntarily move his position further down the proportional representation list was a strategic move—one meant to show humility and authenticity.
It was a calculated, seasoned maneuver aimed at both uniting the fragmented opposition base and silencing criticisms of his reversal on retirement from politics.
As longtime aides, Woo Chun-il and Choi Jae-young quickly grasped his intentions.
Moreover, they were confident that even if the party underperformed, it could still secure at least 15 proportional representation seats.
That confidence was one reason they refrained from pushing back more forcefully against Kim Jae-chun’s decision.
However, what none of them realized at the time was how this overconfidence would soon come back to haunt them.
With the matter settled, Kim Jae-chun picked up his coffee cup and asked,
“How’s the fundraising going?”
At this, Woo Chun-il hesitated before replying with an apologetic tone.
“Well… We’re maintaining contact with businesses, but the funds aren’t coming in as we had hoped.”
“What?”
Kim Jae-chun, who had just raised his cup to his lips, furrowed his brows.
“What’s the reason?”
“The slush fund scandals involving the two former presidents are still ongoing, and businesses seem reluctant to contribute to campaign funds.”
“So, does that mean they’re not giving money to the ruling Gongjeong Party either?”
Kim Jae-chun’s expression hardened as he asked, but Woo Chun-il, looking troubled, remained silent.
Seeing this, Kim Jae-chun twisted his lips in frustration.
“So they’re still giving money to the ruling party but not to us? Claiming they’re hesitant because of the slush fund scandals is just an excuse—they simply don’t want to fund us.”
His voice carried clear irritation, and Choi Jae-young did not bother to hide his own displeasure.
“Even after the ruling party’s crushing defeat in the local elections, these corporate leaders still believe that Gongjeong will hold onto power.”
It was nothing new for businesses to align themselves with the ruling party to secure favors and avoid falling out of favor with those in power.
As a result, opposition parties always struggled with funding during elections.
However, this time was supposed to be different—Kim Jae-chun was widely regarded as the frontrunner for the upcoming presidential election, and the ruling party had suffered a humiliating defeat in the local elections.
Given those circumstances, they had expected the country’s largest corporations—always sensitive to political winds—to line up and contribute to their campaign.
But the reality was the complete opposite, leaving them disappointed and frustrated.
Sensing Kim Jae-chun’s growing anger, Woo Chun-il quickly shared some more positive news to calm him.
“That said, Hyunwoo (Hyundai) and Daeheung Group have still sent us significant donations, despite knowing that it might upset the ruling party.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Kim Jae-chun’s eyes lit up with interest.
While most corporations were turning their backs on him, these two groups had willingly accepted the risk of incurring disadvantages to provide support. That made their assistance feel all the more special and appreciated.
Seeing his reaction, Woo Chun-il quickly nodded.
“Yes. In particular, Daeheung Group’s second son, Park Seok-won, the president of Daeheung Venture Capital, personally delivered a significant sum of 3 billion won.”
At this, Kim Jae-chun's interest deepened.
“The second son of Daeheung Group? Didn’t he also help with our party’s founding funds last time?”
“That’s correct. Without the money President Park provided back then, it would have been extremely difficult to get the party up and running.”
Kim Jae-chun nodded in agreement.
“That’s true. If I remember correctly, he was with Daeheung Securities. It looks like he’s moved positions since then.”
“Yes. Not long ago, Chairman Park transferred full ownership of Daeheung Venture Capital to him, and he has officially taken the reins of the company.”
Noting Kim Jae-chun’s favorable reaction, Woo Chun-il added a rumor that had been circulating lately.
“There are speculations that Chairman Park intends to separate the financial subsidiaries of Daeheung Group and pass them down to his second son.”
“Well, if the younger son has strong financial expertise, preemptively dividing the assets to prevent conflicts between siblings wouldn’t be a bad move.”
Seeing Kim Jae-chun react positively, Choi Jae-young chimed in with agreement.
“That’s right. He contributed 5 billion won last time, and now he has once again sent a substantial campaign fund. It seems he is indeed quite capable.”
“I heard the eldest son isn’t overly greedy either and has been managing the company well with a focus on stability. It looks like Chairman Park has raised his children wisely.”
“Haha, that does seem to be the case.”
Kim Jae-chun stroked his chin in thought for a moment before raising his head to look at Woo Chun-il.
“After the election, find an appropriate time to arrange a meeting with Chairman Park’s second son.”
Woo Chun-il, caught off guard, asked in surprise,
“You mean you want to meet President Park in person?”
“Yes. He has helped us twice now, so it’s only right that I at least meet him in person. Besides, I find him quite intriguing.”
This was unprecedented, and Choi Jae-young also looked at Kim Jae-chun with a hint of surprise.
“Well, if he’s uncomfortable meeting me, there’s nothing I can do.”
For now, the political landscape was uncertain. If word got out that a businessman had privately met with a leading opposition presidential candidate, it was obvious that the Blue House and the ruling party would take issue with it.
From a corporate standpoint, such a meeting would be understandably burdensome.
“There’s no way he would refuse. I’m sure President Park would be honored.”
At Woo Chun-il’s reassuring words, a satisfied smile spread across Kim Jae-chun’s lips.
“In that case, go ahead and sound him out.”
“Understood.”
And with that, the name Park Seok-won became deeply engraved in the mind of Kim Jae-chun—the formidable opposition leader and a strong contender for the presidency.
