A Gate Opened On My First Day As A Politician - Chapter 13: A Big Brush for a Big Picture (1)

While gathered around the table in the dormitory, eating boiled eggs and Yakult for breakfast, Chun Hwa-ran began sharing her story with a relaxed smile.

“I met Ji-yoon’s father in Kapoeta, South Sudan, during a medical volunteer trip.”

“Were you a doctor?”

Hadn’t she mentioned working for Chunhwa Pharmaceuticals?

“I was a very sickly child,” she said, reminiscing with a distant look in her eyes.

“My father founded a research company to save me. He eventually managed to treat me. I can’t even remember the name of the rare disease anymore…”

As expected, Chun Hwa-ran’s father was no ordinary man.

“But to save me, he conducted clinical trials on others, and some of them died. The rest is predictable. When I grew up and found out, I went to war-torn regions for medical volunteer work out of guilt, not knowing any better…”

She smiled warmly, gesturing toward her husband, Gam Ji-sun. He was beaming, with Gam Ji-yoon and Gam Seok by his side.

“I nearly got killed by government forces for treating rebel soldiers, but Ji-yoon’s dad rescued me.”

“Was he a war correspondent?”

“Yes. I had no way back, so we spent a year fleeing across Africa, filming a romance movie of our own. When we returned, Ji-yoon was already on the way.”

—

Yang Pan-seok stroked his growing stubble, the result of neglected grooming.

“The ideal scenario is to reconvene the National Assembly,” he said.

Impeachment, legislation, special committees—if the National Assembly could be normalized, it would already be half the battle won.

“We don’t even know how many members are still alive or where they are.”

“That’s the problem. That’s why I plan to go south,” he replied.

While Seoul was in ruins, the destruction was largely confined to the upper echelons of power. Regional authorities remained intact.

“Provincial prosecutors, police chiefs, mayors, provincial councils, city councils…”

“First, you’ll need to mediate the Republican-Democratic conflict,” I said.

“Right. If the military takes control of Korea, infighting among ourselves will only worsen things.”

However, if the Republicans and Democrats were to merge—perhaps even forming something like a National Defense Party—they would soon be branded a one-party dictatorship and dragged down.

“The key is to focus on the critical points. The key points,” Yang Pan-seok said, tapping the table with his finger.

“For prosecutors, focus on the chief prosecutors. For councils, stick to committee chairs. The idea is to propose implicit alliances.”

“A covert alignment, then,” I commented.

“No need to antagonize the military. We can’t let it seem like pen-pushers are trying to oppose the gunmen.”

Yang Pan-seok chuckled as he wrapped up his explanation.

“Anyway, that’s my plan. What about yours?”

“Win Cha Jae-kyun’s favor and secure a place in the superhuman army.”

“How?”

—

“Are you serious right now?” Yeo Do-yeon asked, glaring at me with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief.

“Come on, jump!”

We were at a clearing in the hills near the command center, testing both Yeo Do-yeon’s physical strength and my supposed superpower.

With a reluctant grimace, Yeo Do-yeon jumped lightly on the spot, making it feel like I was riding an amusement park ride.

“Wow! Piggyback ride!” Gam Ji-yoon exclaimed, floating cheerfully toward us. I replied to her while clinging to Yeo Do-yeon’s back.

“Ji-yoon, Uncle isn’t playing right now.”

“What are you and Noona doing?”

This kid…

“Hey! She’s a year older than me! Why am I Uncle?”

“Mom said not to call women ‘Auntie’!”

Chun Hwa-ran was certainly raising her child with attention to social nuance.

Yeo Do-yeon hopped around with me on her back, jumping two meters high, while Gam Ji-yoon floated around us. Watching from the sidelines, Chun Hwa-ran covered her face, unable to bear the absurdity.

After a while, Yeo Do-yeon snapped at me, “Hey, how long do I have to keep jumping?”

“Who said you had to keep going?”

She dumped me onto the ground. Dusting myself off, I grabbed her waist for support as I stood.

“Ms. Chun Hwa-ran,” I called out.

“Yes?”

“Do you see anything blue, like energy or magic?”

“Hmm, not really,” she replied.

Gam Ji-yoon smiled brightly from the side. “Auntie is blue, but when Uncle touches her, he turns blue too!”

This was interesting.

“Does that mean I get stronger by being close to her?”

“How would I know?”

“Could it be that contact allows me to share powers?”

“Stop asking me.”

“That was rhetorical,” I said, just before Yeo Do-yeon jabbed me in the stomach, sending me tumbling onto the dirt again. Gam Ji-yoon approached with a concerned expression, extending her hand to help me up.

“Are you okay, Uncle?”

When she touched my back, I suddenly began to float.

“…Oh.”

“Whee!”

Like being in zero gravity, I drifted upward. As I waved my hands through the faint blue mist in the air, I realized I could swim, holding onto Gam Ji-yoon’s hand.

“This is fun.”

“Right? Isn’t it?”

Yeo Do-yeon crossed her arms, looking unimpressed.

“Do you really want to act like this at your age?”

“Do you think I’m doing this for fun?”

“Then why?”

—

“I have a superpower too,” I told Cha Jae-kyun.

He looked up from his papers with interest.

“I can share the abilities of any superhuman I come into contact with.”

“That’s fascinating. Three superhumans in one group…”

“Why does that surprise you?”

Cha Jae-kyun sighed lightly, furrowing his brow. “It’s been three days since I mobilized the National Intelligence Service and the Military Security Command, but we haven’t found a single one.”

Good. I suspected as much.

“You’re trying to form a mobile strike force, aren’t you?” I asked.

He nodded silently.

The military had encircled Seoul, but monsters that broke through the line were wreaking havoc in southern Gyeonggi Province. Civilians and monsters were mixed together, making it impossible to launch missiles or use special forces. What was needed were monster hunters with superpowers.

I intended to position myself within that initiative.

“Is there any way I can assist you?”

“The NIS and Military Security Command are already handling it,” he replied flatly.

Of course, he wouldn’t easily let me in. A former general and now a vice minister, Cha Jae-kyun was undoubtedly a seasoned political player.

It was clear that I needed to present an irresistible proposal to win his favor.

“Politicians can offer ideas that others might overlook.”

“Such as?”

“You said your agents have been ineffective for three days. How have they been operating?”

Faced with my persistence, Cha Jae-kyun reluctantly explained, “We’ve been selecting reliable personnel within the NIS and military and exposing them to crystals.”

“That sounds time-consuming.”

“Finding superhumans isn’t the priority.”

Indeed. Even if you find a superhuman and enhance them with crystals, they could still lose control and cause a catastrophe.

It seemed his plan was to secretly recruit and organize a special unit of people who were loyal to the state and could be controlled.

“How about doing a bit of business with me?” I suggested.

Politics and business are two sides of the same coin.

—

The next day, I explained the entire plan to my group before visiting the vice minister’s office with Yeo Do-yeon.

“Let’s create a foundation,” I began. “We can name it something like the Han Seung-Moon Foundation, SM Foundation, or even SM Enterprises. The name doesn’t matter.”

I laid out my grand vision, holding up three fingers.

“There are three things we need:

1. An organization for superhuman activities.
2. An institution to research superhuman abilities.
3. A system to manage superhumans. Correct?”

Cha Jae-kyun nodded.

“With a single foundation, we can handle all three, generating revenue along the way. But to make it happen, I’ll need your help.”

“Let’s hear it.”

—

First, we’d establish the foundation. Although the process required navigating a sea of administrative and judicial hurdles—property contributions, notarized objectives, bylaws, regulatory approvals, and so on—everything was theoretically possible under the vice minister’s authority as martial law commander for Seoul.

“The foundation will officially be based in Seoul,” I explained. “With your support, we can have it up and running within three days.”

“Go on.”

That was half the battle won. Time to outline the revenue streams.

“First, social welfare projects. Superhumans can use their abilities to rebuild homes, clear debris, rescue people, and fight monsters.”

“Is that the organization for superhuman activities?” Cha Jae-kyun asked.

“Exactly. Superhumans will inevitably become public knowledge. Managing their image through socially beneficial activities will help ease public perception.”

“Integrating superhumans into society?”

“Keeping them secret won’t work once other countries start revealing their own superhumans.”

I confidently gestured toward Yeo Do-yeon. “People like her and Gam Ji-yoon are walking heavy machinery. They don’t have to be used exclusively for combat.”

Cha Jae-kyun’s expression remained neutral as he replied, “The social welfare aspect seems feasible. What about research and development?”

“We’ll establish an R&D division under the foundation to study superhuman abilities, their mechanics, and potential applications.”

“Is that legal under public-interest regulations?” he asked.

“It will be once Assemblyman Yang Pan-seok drafts the necessary legislation. Until then, your endorsement as martial law commander should suffice. It’s a legitimate public-interest initiative, isn’t it?”

“It’s not an objection, just a question of legality. Proceed.”

Cha Jae-kyun’s tone softened slightly.

“Lastly, we’ll establish an educational and welfare branch,” I said, pausing for effect.

This was the tricky part.

“Have you ever considered setting up an orphanage?”