TOIGC 79

Chapter 79 …

A Righteous Reporter? (2)

Oh, crap!

It felt like his heart was shrinking into a tiny raisin, but Ho-je managed to maintain a desperate poker face to hide his inner panic.

“Anyway, I’m truly sorry. If I’d known you despised me enough to come all this way in person, I never would have sent those things…”

Watching Ryu Geun-tae wear such a conflicted, regretful expression, Ho-je felt a sharp pang of guilt twist deep inside his chest.

“N-no, sir. It’s not like that… Honestly, I’ve never actually been acknowledged like this by anyone before…”

As his voice trailed off into a gloomy murmur, Geun-tae offered him a warm, gentle smile.

“I’m sure there are plenty of other people who recognize your worth besides me. They just don’t have the means to help out. Things aren’t always what they seem on the surface. You aren’t alone, Reporter Kim.”

If this had been an acceptable place to break down and cry, a teardrop the size of a fingernail would have splashed right onto the floor. But Ho-je had no choice but to swallow those tears back down by sheer force of will. He needed to hide his burning, flushed face, especially with the newspaper sitting right there on the table.

“A-anyway… th-thank you.”

Ho-je stood up from his seat, uttering words he never in a million years imagined would come out of his own mouth.

“Are you leaving already?”

“Yes, I should be. I wasn’t exactly invited here…”

“Regardless of an invitation, you are always welcome. I’ve read through all of your articles. The pieces you wrote back during the President P era were packed with raw life and death. I’ll always be rooting for you. If your operational funds ever run low, come see me. Not on behalf of Yaikai Department Store, but as a personal supporter of yours.”

Unable to offer a response, Ho-je simply dipped his head in a brief bow and hurried out of the office.

The moment he stepped out of the building, a large, heavy teardrop finally spilled over and rolled down his cheek.

Why on earth did that article have to run?!

Ho-je broke into a dead sprint back toward the newspaper office.

“Ch-Chief! Why—why did the article run?!”

At an out-of-breath Ho-je’s frantic demand, the editorial bureau chief wore a look of absolute, genuine remorse.

“I’m sorry, Ho-je. I fully assumed you were going to run the piece anyway, so I drafted a layout and put it in the queue, but I completely forgot to pull it when I didn’t hear back from you. I got swamped rushing to fix up some other copy… Besides, you were going to publish it anyway, so what’s the big d—deal?”

Seeing how utterly apologetic the chief looked, Ho-je wanted to crawl into a hole and weep.

Just two hours ago, he had intended to run the article. But ever since meeting Ryu Geun-tae, that urge had completely evaporated. He couldn’t even pinpoint a single, logical reason for the change of heart. Yet, a complex web of emotions had woven together so tightly that he simply couldn’t bring himself to target Yaikai Department Store—or rather, Ryu Geun-tae—ever again.

“Ho-je… did I make some kind of massive mistake…?”

Glancing up to see the chief eyeing him warily, Ho-je was too consumed by embarrassment to even nod. After all, he was the one who had spent days throwing a tantrum insisting the piece had to go to print.

“No… no, you didn’t…”

“Well, anyway, lay low for a bit. I took a week off myself. You should just hide out for a spell, too. I’ll spin some tall tale to the higher-ups about you being away on a long-term undercover stakeout.”

“No, it’s fine… I was already prepared…”

His previous resolve hadn’t accounted for a scenario quite like this, leaving his voice completely devoid of any real conviction. And yet, for an entire week, neither Ho-je nor the editorial bureau chief suffered a single scrap of retaliation or personal harm.

[Um, excuse me… did you… pull some strings for us…?]

Hearing the cautious voice filtering through the telephone receiver, Geun-tae replied smoothly.

“I happened to spot the article in the morning paper right after you left that day.”

[I knew it… you saw it, then…]

“Reading your articles is one of my greatest pleasures, after all. Didn’t I tell you I’d read everything you’ve written?”

[Oh, goodness…]

A very faint, choked sob leaked through the line, but Geun-tae pressed on as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

[… …]

There was silence on the other end, but Geun-tae continued.

“I don’t know if I should call this good news, but it looks like you’re free to criticize Yaikai Department Store to your heart’s content moving forward. I pointed out to the higher-ups that a healthy dose of criticism actually helps drive consumer interest, and they seemed to buy the logic. Though, I should mention that exception applies strictly to you… I sincerely apologize that I couldn’t secure the same leeway for your fellow reporters.”

[No… no, it’s not like that… that’s not what I meant…]

After stampering out a series of denials, Ho-je finally murmured a quiet, “I’m sorry,” and hung up the phone.

“Phew.”

Geun-tae wiped the beads of sweat dotting his forehead with a handkerchief and sank back into his chair.

“Good work.”

Hearing Yoongi speak up from the sofa in the corner of the office, Geun-tae couldn’t help but offer a wry, tired smile.

“Honestly, that was brutal. I had to act out a persona I would never dream of using in real life. It felt less like normal conversation and more like stumbling around inside a heavy mascot costume.”

“To reel in a fish like that, we had to use the exact bait that fit his profile. If I were an adult, I would have handled it personally, but it’s a bit awkward for me to step out front right now, isn’t it?”

“That’s why I feel so bad for you, Chairman. In truth, the one who should have won over this reporter’s heart wasn’t me, but you…”

“It doesn’t matter. In about ten years or so, he’ll figure it out on his own anyway. Care to join me for a cup of tea?”

“I’d love to.”

A few moments later, after an employee dropped off a fresh tray of tea and stepped back out, Yoongi and Geun-tae began sipping the warm brew.

“Chairman, may I ask you one question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Since this whole ordeal seems roughly wrapped up, I was curious… Might I know the real reasoning behind why you handled him that way? And furthermore, why you actually let the publication go through?”

“There’s no reason I can’t answer that.”

Yoongi was always approachable when answering genuine questions—though granted, detailed explanations were strictly reserved for his inner circle.

“Let’s see… I suppose you’re most curious about why we targeted his family instead of the reporter himself?”

“Indeed. It’s the kind of strategy that sounds simple once you hear it, but is nearly impossible to think of on your own.”

At Geun-tae’s candid admission, Yoongi smiled faintly.

“The more intensely righteous a person is, the deeper the guilt they carry toward their own family.”

“I… still don’t quite follow.”

“Think about independence activists. Those individuals possessed extraordinary patriotism and a fierce sense of justice. But because of their choices, their families had to suffer tremendously. You’ve heard stories of wealthy families blowing their entire fortunes just to fund the independence army, haven’t you?”

“Ah, yes, I have!”

“That person is undeniably a hero. But how do you suppose it looked to their family?”

“Well…”

“No one can say for sure how people felt back then. But years later, when those figures are officially recognized as patriots, could their family members ever go on television and complain, ‘I resent my father’?”

“Ah…”

A thick fog in Geun-tae’s mind began to clear away.

“If someone says they resent their father, public opinion will almost always brand them as a ‘selfish child who failed to understand their father’s grand vision.’ Never mind that they never asked to be the family of a national hero.”

“I see… I think I’m starting to get it.”

“And those independence activists couldn’t possibly go through life without feeling a constant ache of guilt toward their families either. A person with that level of integrity doesn’t just forget about their loved ones. It’s just that their sights were set on a much grander future for them. Things might have been miserable in the short term, but they traded away their present wealth in pursuit of a world where their children could walk with their heads held high.”

“Ah… I assumed they were purely prioritizing the nation, but that wasn’t it at all…”

“They prioritized the nation, too. But it wasn’t a matter of abandoning their family—it was about fighting for their family’s ultimate future.”

“I suppose my thinking is still far too narrow.”

“Not at all. My perspective is just a deduction, after all. Regardless, people like that always harbor a secret guilt toward their families. That reporter was no different. And right in the middle of that reality, a mountain of luxury gifts suddenly drops on his parents’ doorstep. How do you think that makes him feel?”

“Happy… no, probably deeply flustered.”

“Spot on. Exactly!”

Yoongi gave a single sharp clap, flashed a knowing grin, and continued.

“If we had sent those gifts with a message telling him to call us back, the reporter would have felt pure disgust. But we didn’t do that. Instead, we casually secured his parents’ silence. That left the reporter in an even deeper state of confusion, thinking, ‘What on earth are these people playing at?’“

Listening to the explanation, Geun-tae felt a chill run straight down his spine. At the same time, he understood with crystal clarity why he felt such absolute loyalty to Yoongi—and why he had no choice but to follow him to the end.

“And then, when he marches right into our office to confront us, the person sitting across from him claims to be his fan and expresses genuine worry for his safety. To him, it looks like someone offering pure spiritual validation for his sense of justice. Could a reporter ever view a person like that as a villain?”

“I’d say absolutely not. You essentially turned yourself into a beacon of light shining in the dark for him.”

“Exactly. From now on, that man will never be able to write a hostile piece against Yaikai Department Store again. Every time he tries, he’ll feel like he’s plunging a knife straight into the back of his own purest supporter.”

Geun-tae could almost hear the loud gulp he swallowed as the realization settled in.

Reporter Kim doesn’t have the foggiest idea that I’m not actually his fan. Even so, he’ll never be able to criticize Yaikai again. Good grief…

Looking up at Yoongi, Geun-tae asked his final lingering question.

“Does that mean letting the article get published was also an extension of this same strategy?”

The editorial bureau chief’s blunder hadn’t been a mistake at all—it had been executed directly under Yoongi’s orders. Yoongi had instructed Ma Seok-il to let the article through under the guise of an operational error. While it was true the bureau chief looked out for his reporters, he hadn’t completely abandoned the perks of press relations either, making it easy to orchestrate since Ho-je’s physical safety was guaranteed.

[Pardon? For real?]

Recalling Ma Seok-il’s description of the chief’s flustered reaction, Geun-tae let out a quiet, involuntary chuckle.

“That was part of it, but fundamentally, it was a move for the long-term future.”

Yoongi stood up from his seat and leaned in close to whisper into Geun-tae’s ear.

“As time goes on, if the new military regime eventually falls and a democratic government takes root—much like in the United States—this single article will serve as undeniable proof that we never colluded with the powers that be. Whether that collusion was true or not won’t even matter. When people start arguing about it down the line, it’ll make for quite a spectacle. Someone is bound to step up and say, ‘As if a colluded corporation would ever let a hit piece like that run.’“

If Choi Cheol-gyu could see Geun-tae’s expression right at that moment, what kind of reaction would he have had?

Stunned by a level of foresight that defied all imagination, Geun-tae instinctively brought his hand up and gave both of his own cheeks a resounding slap—right there in front of Yoongi.

“Is something the matter?”

“I… I need to pull myself together and work harder. I still have so much to learn.”

Instead of answering, Yoongi simply offered Geun-tae an enigmatic, knowing smile.

“By the way, what are Microsoft’s projected revenues looking like for this year?”

“At the current trajectory, I’d estimate somewhere around thirty-five million dollars.”