A Gate Opened On My First Day As A Politician - Chapter 39

I used Cha Jae-kyun’s office as it was.

Thanks to that, on this freezing winter day, I drove at maximum speed to a poor neighborhood in the northern part of Gyeonggi-do. The road became too narrow for the car to pass.

We parked the car at the edge of an alley and ran at full speed. Yang Il-ho took the lead, followed by Lee Ho-jung, and I limped after them.

Since we occasionally came here to hang out with the kids, and sometimes grabbed some soju from a nearby convenience store, everyone knew where Kang Seok-ho lived.

“Cough! ‘Cough, cough’! Ugh…!”

The cold air filled my lungs, and I let out phlegmy coughs.

Leaning against a wall in the alley to catch my breath, I was the last to arrive at Kang Seok-ho’s house.

The others had already opened the door lock and were standing blankly in the doorway.

I squeezed past the two of them to check the cramped interior of Kang Seok-ho’s house.

Three shattered portraits.

Scattered ashes from burnt incense.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of soju bottles.

Walls crumbling with cracks from fist marks.

What used to be a small refuge filled with laughter, despite its poverty, now reeked of a dreadful mix of alcohol and incense.

It smelled like a funeral home. The dense stench of death.

A child trembling in fear crawled toward us.

“Please… help me…!”

Traces of violence were evident on the boy’s body.

Kang Seok-ho was sitting dazed in a corner, chugging soju straight from the bottle. It was a side of him I had never seen before.

How could this stoic, dependable guy end up like this?

– ‘Crash!’

The sound of a soju bottle shattering echoed.

‘Thud, thud.’ Kang Seok-ho, his face flushed bright red, slammed the back of his head against the wall. The wall crumbled slightly, dust and debris falling to the floor.

“…Jinah… Soyeong… Sojeong…”

With dead eyes staring into the void, Kang Seok-ho kept calling out the names of his siblings.

He was already broken by the deaths of the siblings he had devoted his life to protecting.

“……Hey, you crazy bastard.”

Pushing past the frozen Il-ho and Ho-jung, I stepped into the house with my shoe-clad feet.

“Do you think you can see your dead siblings or something? Huh?”

“…What. You bastard.”

“Woojin! Soyeong! Soj-”

I couldn’t bring myself to list all of Seok-ho’s siblings’ names.

– ‘Crunch!’

Kang Seok-ho had grabbed the leg of the table and flung it.

“Kyaaah!”

Lee Ho-jung screamed as the table, thrown with unreal speed, slammed into the wall next to me and shattered.

Kang Seok-ho had the physical strength of a superhuman. A thoughtless swing of his hand could mean death for an ordinary person.

Staggering to his feet, Kang Seok-ho pointed a trembling finger at me.

“You… you bastard… You didn’t even come to save them… You damned…”

He staggered closer, looming over me with his massive frame.

With drunken, unfocused eyes, he jabbed his finger into my chest.

“Where do you get off, playing the big brother, you…”

“……”

I didn’t respond.

I simply looked at the splintered table leg embedded in Kang Shi-ho’s back. The child was crying bitterly.

“Hey. You told me to protect this kid.”

Grabbing Kang Seok-ho’s hand, which had been poking my chest, I twisted it.

“All you see are your dead siblings, huh?”

“…You son of a b— I’ll kill—”

– ‘Thud!’

I was the only one here who could subdue Kang Seok-ho, a physically awakened being.

And if he rampaged now, we’d all die.

I had to knock him out before things got worse. Healing him with supernatural powers would be simple later.

‘Thud.’

It was only the second time in my life that I’d hit someone with all my strength. The first was during my first murder in Apgujeong.

After the gate opened, I’d committed so many things I never thought I would.

‘Thud.’ On the third strike to his face, Kang Seok-ho collapsed to the ground. I straddled his writhing body in a mounted position.

And with every word I spoke, I hit him again.

“You broke that kid’s wrist. Did you do that?”

Kang Shi-ho’s left wrist was shattered, bent in an unnatural direction.

So I punched Kang Seok-ho with enough force to feel like my own hand might break.

“While you were crying over photos of the dead—”

Kang Seok-ho wasn’t a bad person. Out of his four siblings, two were cousins, but he treated those abandoned kids like his real siblings.

This young man, who suffered through all kinds of hardships to earn money, always smiled when he saw his siblings, his lips curling upward.

How could anyone call him a bad person?

“You can’t even see the living ones anymore!”

He had simply been destroyed by his inability to cope with death.

A cold world where death was all too common.

If you couldn’t endure it, you’d break.

“You got drunk and snapped that poor kid’s wrist?”

Holding back my tears, I kept hitting him, and Kang Seok-ho quietly took the blows.

He merely murmured through his swollen, bloody lips.

“You… don’t understand…”

I paused for a moment, looking at him. Blood trickled from his battered face, pooling in his eyes.

“You don’t understand a damn thing…!”

Choking back his sobs, he barely managed to spit out the words.

He began to weep.

“You…! You didn’t lose anyone…!”

“……”

“I watched my kids get eaten right in front of me—”

‘Thud.’

I drove my fist into his mouth.

Right. I didn’t understand.

I understood that only those who had truly lost family could comprehend that pain.

No one could empathize with the grief of losing blood relatives. How could anyone feel the same sadness when they lost different people?

I had simply grown too used to death.

I already knew how to walk through a field of snow.

So I silently knocked him out.

Then, as I tried to stand up, I collapsed to the side.

—

…What had I been doing while our Assemblyman was earning badges and becoming a hero? Should I reflect? Yeah, I should reflect.

I’m the guilty one, right? Living off him like a useless freeloader while our precious Assemblyman collapsed.

Sure. While Seung-Moon was winning an international English debate competition, I was getting caught up with strange old men in back alleys and fighting.

While Seung-Moon was receiving a full scholarship at Korea University, I was being told to sell my body and fought until I was broken inside and out.

Right? After all, how much money did our parents spend on me, and here I am, all grown up, still incapable of accomplishing anything? What a disgrace I must be.

Do you think I wanted to live like Mom, licking the boots of corporate overlords? Am I not even human because I didn’t graduate from university? Is it so shameful to have a job that doesn’t carry a fancy title? Fine.

At least the old man from the boxing gym was a hundred times more decent than you ever were.

Do you think I’ve been leeching off him my entire life? You never cared to ask how I’ve lived until now, did you? Ha, of course not. Who’d pay attention to such a worthless existence?

Yeah, I failed.

I’ve never won anything in my life.

I’ve never succeeded on my own.

All I’ve done is disappoint my amazing parents. That’s who I am—a pathetic excuse of a person.

Now that my twenties are almost over, I’ve achieved absolutely nothing, right? All I’ve done is play Power Ranger, hunting monsters with some lucky superpowers. It must’ve looked so pathetic to someone like our esteemed lawyer, huh?

Sure, sure. I get it. From now on, I’ll stop enjoying the thrill of saving people by fighting monsters. I’ll just focus on being Seung-Moon’s bodyguard like I’m supposed to.

Don’t deny it. Isn’t that exactly what Mom’s words always boiled down to? Fine. Hang up already. Hang up! Why bother coming over just to say the same things all over again?

Oh, yes. I get it. I’m just a trashy, useless wretch. From now on, I’ll obediently bow my head and live as you wish. Just… let’s not meet often anymore.

Please, just… please…!

When I came to, I was lying in a hospital bed.

I heard the sound of Yeo Do-yeon hanging up her phone.

She was sitting at my bedside, clutching my hand tightly, her head resting on top of it. She was trembling.

My hand felt wet.

I lay still for about 15 minutes before finally opening my eyes.

“…Ah, ugh…”

“…Hey.”

Yeo Do-yeon lightly tapped my cheek.

“You awake?”

She poked my cheek with her calloused fingers, a playful smile on her face.

“I told you to get some rest, you idiot.”

“…Yeah, you did.”

“They said you collapsed from a mix of the flu, fatigue, and stress. You’ve been out for roughly 18 hours. Yang Pan-seok handled all the minor issues. That’s the summary.”

Yeo Do-yeon was dressed in a black suit.

Her suit was dirty, indicating she’d just returned from dealing with monsters. She hadn’t even changed clothes, staying by my side the whole time.

She stood up and put on her black coat. The long coat suited her tall figure well.

It was the birthday gift I’d carefully picked out for her last year.

“Hey, I’m heading out for a bit.”

“…Where?”

“Just… to get some air.”

She casually gathered her belongings as she spoke.

“Mom’s coming over.”

“…Your aunt?”

“Yeah. She said it’d take about an hour.”

Just before closing the hospital room door, Yeo Do-yeon glanced back at me with a smile.

“See you later.”

“…”

‘Click.’ I stared at the now-closed door and quietly muttered,

“…Take care.”

I was exhausted.

—

The doctor said I was half-dead.

After a few days on an IV drip, I was told to take two weeks off work to rest, though I doubted I could manage that.

In any case, I had quite a few visitors while I was hospitalized.

Family, the hospital director, the mayor, the representative of the Apgujeong Survivors Compensation Group, lawmakers wanting to upload a picture to Facebook out of boredom, and even my fan club.

Of course, the first visitor I met was Kang Seok-ho.

After coming to his senses, he came to me sobbing and apologizing profusely. I hugged him and patted his back.

Kang Seok-ho promised to start treatment for his alcoholism, but Kang Shi-ho was already terrified of him.

So Kang Shi-ho was now going to live with Yang Il-ho and Lee Ho-jung, with Kang Seok-ho sending them money to cover the living expenses.

Knowing Seok-ho’s personality, he’d probably send everything he had except for what he needed to barely survive. I was already worried—it was predictable.

As I sat in the hospital eating bland food and flipping through TV channels to see what today’s news had to offer, there was a knock at the door.

“Hey, heard you collapsed from overwork?”

“Oh, Assemblyman, you’re here.”

“Don’t bother getting up.”

Yang Pan-seok placed a gift set of drinks on the table and sat down.

“That Kang Seok-ho guy? Everything’s been smoothed over. It’s officially recorded as him collapsing while working in the office.”

“I’m ashamed of myself.”

“What’s there to be ashamed of? I’ve even had to clean up after my youngest son when he got arrested for assaulting someone while high at a club.

…Ah, wait. Wasn’t that something I tasked you with?”

“Yeah, I even took a few hits while helping your son.”

“Hm, unfortunate.”

Yang Pan-seok handed me a notebook and pressed a pen into my hand.

“You know my granddaughter, right? This is her notebook.”

“…What?”

“Write this down for her.

‘Thank you for your concern, Miss Yang Areum.

Study hard, grow up healthy, and may you one day become a great person who brings pride to the nation.’”

I dutifully wrote down his words and handed the notebook back to him.

“But… doesn’t this obviously sound like something you’d say, Assemblyman?”

“She won’t care who wrote it as long as there’s a signature. And besides, what’s wrong with how I talk? It’s perfectly fine.”

“…Right.”

In my mind, I could already picture Yang Areum teasing Assemblyman Yang Pan-seok mercilessly, but I kept my mouth shut.

Yang Pan-seok, looking a bit bored, downed a bottle of Vita500 and pulled up a picture on his phone to show me.

“You know those before-and-after photos of politicians?”

“Oh, yeah, those?”

They were pictures comparing what politicians looked like before entering office versus after. They were proof that a long political career could change a person’s face, making them look more worn and grim.

There were even online series dedicated to these comparisons. Yang Pan-seok spoke up.

“They’ve got one of you now.”

“…What? But I’m still in my twenties—”

I couldn’t finish my sentence.

The title read ‘The Aging of Han Seung-Moon,’ and beneath it were two photos.

The first was from an interview when I was elected as the youngest Assemblyman.

The second was a screenshot from last week’s debate on ‘100-Minute Discussion.’

The angles of the photos were nearly identical, which made the differences between them stark.

Gaunt cheeks, dark circles, dull and sallow skin, sharper eyes—typical of a seasoned politician.

In just six months, I looked like a completely different person. Looking at the first photo, I realized there was a time when I looked so fresh and vibrant.

As I trembled, staring at the pictures, Yang Pan-seok chuckled mockingly.

“What’s so funny?”

“Take a look at the comments. I laughed so hard when I saw someone say you’ve aged six years in half a year!”

“Ah! Of course I’ve aged! The world is rotting around me!”

I hissed and fumed, denying reality.

“Still, don’t I look quite decent? Don’t you think?”

“You have sharp features, sure, but honestly, you look like you’re in your mid-thirties.”

“Oh my god…”

Lowering my head gloomily, Yang Pan-seok patted my shoulder and moved his chair closer to mine.

“Still, doesn’t this face have just the right amount of dignity?”

“It’s not dignity—it’s just wear and tear…”

“Well, that too is an asset for a politician. An asset. How many politicians out there make a living just off their looks?”

I downed a bottle of Bacchus in one gulp and lamented life.

“Ah, life…”

Yang Pan-seok clicked his tongue lightly.

“Don’t spout nonsense like that when you haven’t even lived half as long as I have. But to be fair, you’ve been overdoing it lately.”

“…Well, yeah, but…”

“I’ll send over a few of my aides to help you for the time being. They’ve been idle anyway, so they could use some work.”

Hmm. If his aides started stirring up trouble, it would create a mess. I looked at him with a hesitant expression.

“…Don’t you trust me?”

Sensing his dissatisfaction, I automatically blurted out a plausible excuse.

“Oh, no, it’s not that. It’s just that, well, your aides were once my old superiors…”

“They’re all dead.”

“Ah.”

“I’ve replaced them with people I personally trust, so there’s no need to worry.”

Quickly, I began calculating in my head.

The likelihood of Yang Pan-seok betraying me, the leverage we held over each other, the upcoming tasks for the foundation, the security of its finances, and so on.

My judgment was swift. Refusing him again and risking even a slight dent in his mood would cost me more in the long run.

“In that case, I’ll gratefully accept your help.”

“…Heh.”

Yang Pan-seok’s peculiar gaze pierced my chest, making my heart skip a beat. He grinned brightly.

“No matter how many times I think about it, you’ve got a certain charm that’s hard to find in kids these days.”

Sometimes, I couldn’t help but wonder if Yang Pan-seok and Pi Chae-won shared the same superpower.

“Listen. You can replace numbers, but you can’t replace people’s hearts. Politics is all about winning people’s hearts. Remember that.”

“…I will.”

“Ahem!”

Yang Pan-seok smiled cheerfully.

“Well, you’ve got about two weeks off now. What are you planning to do?”

“…I’m not sure.”

I’d been so busy that I didn’t really have any hobbies. I didn’t play games, read fewer books, and at most, occasionally hung out with Yang Pan-seok.

“Fishing.”

“Pardon?”

“Fishing.”

“Sorry?”

“Fishing.”

“…Got it.”

Now, where did I put that fishing rod…?