A Gate Opened On My First Day As A Politician - Chapter 44

[On the 11th, the court sentenced Chun Geum-soon, president of GS Group, to 200 hours of community service. The ruling considered the economic turmoil caused by her speculative funds management but also acknowledged her later efforts to fulfill social responsibility.

Chun Geum-soon announced that she would not be appealing the decision.]

[I, I believe… this punishment is absolutely fair… I’ve realized that my actions, done in pursuit of profit, could cause harm to others… No matter how much I try to make amends, hic…! Mistakes can’t be undone… As a businessperson, I should have been more responsible—]

At the Monster Damage Recovery Foundation’s Juvenile Support Center, commonly known as the Han Seung-Moon Foundation Orphanage, in the infant care room—

Chun Geum-soon’s face appeared on the small television mounted in the corner of the ceiling. She sniffled pitifully, her voice wavering during the interview.

Watching her whimper on screen made her look like a bit of a dweeb.

I turned to the woman beside me, who was feeding a baby from a bottle.

Huh. I had assumed a third-generation chaebol wouldn’t even know how to hold a baby properly.

“You’re surprisingly good at this.”

Chun Geum-soon, supporting the baby’s neck with practiced ease, smiled brightly.

“I had a younger sibling. A half-brother, nine years younger than me.”

“Oh…?”

A half-brother. Meaning, a child born from her father’s affair.

“He was kind of cute. He died from an illness when he was thirteen, though.”

“I see…”

“Or maybe my mother killed him. They said he died of some acute shock from an illness, but he was holding my hand and walking around just the day before…”

“Ah…”

I had suspected she hadn’t lived a normal life, but hearing it so plainly still left a bitter aftertaste.

Chun Geum-soon gazed down at the baby with a complicated expression before forcing a smile and changing the subject.

“By the way, what do you think of the title President?”

She insisted on being called President Chun.

“Chairwoman sounds too old… and CEO sounds too young… A name should have a certain atmosphere, don’t you think?”

“I don’t see much of a difference.”

“I’m particular about names… Anyway, it’s cute, right? I always wanted a name like that instead of Geum-soon!”

“Huh?”

What’s so bad about President Chun? I tilted my head in confusion, but she quickly clarified.

“Angel…”

—

“Haaa… It’s finally over…” Chun Geum-soon stretched as she stepped outside.

“Only 158 hours left.”

“…Seung-Moon, please…”

“And you still have to work overtime when you get back.”

“…Sweetheart, do you want to get scolded?”

“Do chaebols still throw ashtrays at their employees?”

“I wouldn’t know. But I would like to throw one at an assemblyman at least once…”

“Quit smoking.”

“Ugh… this is exhausting…”

Just as she grumbled, “Can’t I at least have one occasionally…” a young voice called out.

“Ahjussi!”

A girl flew down from the sky.

“Ji-yoon!”

“It’s been a while!”

Gam Ji-yoon landed gracefully in front of me. As I grabbed her hand, the little girl floated upward like a balloon.

I turned to Chun Geum-soon and introduced her.

“Ah, President Chun. This is Gam Ji-yoon. She and I—”

“Heeeh…”

“Escaped Seoul together. She’s a telekinetic.”

“Can I hold her too?”

Like a child trying to grab a balloon, Chun Geum-soon reached for Ji-yoon.

“Uh-heh.”

Ji-yoon swayed mid-air, bouncing like a helium balloon.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“J-Just let me hold her once…!”

“Back off.”

“Hiyaa…!”

Using Ji-yoon’s telekinetic powers, I briefly lifted Chun Geum-soon off the ground.

“Ji-yoon, how have you been?”

“I see you all the time on TV!”

“That doesn’t count as meeting me. What have you been up to lately?”

“Hmmm…”

Ji-yoon grinned brightly.

“I messed up lifting a steel beam! Wrecked a worksite canteen! Got scolded by the foreman! Now I’m on standby for a while!”

“Uhh…”

My brain short-circuited for a second.

Luckily, Chun Geum-soon translated.

“She tried to lift an aerial girder, dropped something, destroyed the construction site cafeteria… and now she’s on break after getting scolded by the site manager.”

“You actually understood that…?”

“I own a construction company, remember?”

“Thorough, aren’t you…”

Gam Ji-yoon was an elite agent from the Guild’s Public Assistance Team.

Public Assistance—building houses for displaced people, clearing out wrecked buildings, and similar work.

Basically, she was a walking, talking heavy-duty machine. No wonder she spent so much time with older construction workers.

I handed Ji-yoon over to Chun Geum-soon, who gently rocked her back and forth. Then she sighed and muttered.

“Sigh… I thought I got away with just sacrificing one of my executives, but I never expected I’d actually get 200 hours…”

“The Financial Services Commission had to maintain appearances.”

The government had faced criticism for failing to crack down on financial crimes. Now, at least formally, they had done something about it.

Chun Geum-soon pouted.

“But we all know this is just for show…”

“They’re just stockpiling excuses for the upcoming national audit.”

“Aha!”

“Politics is all about that kind of thing.”

—

Pi Chae-won began her report.

“Um… She was wondering if, since she got close to you, Assemblyman Han… could she adjust the circuit breaker timing?”

Pi Chae-won relayed Chun Geum-soon’s actual thoughts.

“…She’s out of her damn mind.”

“What does that mean…?”

“It’s what the government uses to shut down the stock market when things get out of control. But if short sellers manipulate the timing, they can multiply their profits thousands of times. This—this is insane!”

What kind of drugs do you have to take to even think of something like that?

This was the kind of thing only the most ruthless stock traders attempted.

Coming from a chaebol, this was especially dangerous.

She had a diabolical talent for making money. The fact that she even conceived such a scheme meant her mind was built differently.

“No other ideas?”

“No… just that one.”

“158 hours left, then. Keep an eye on her, Pi Chae-won.”

It seemed pushing the Ministry of Economy and Finance to make an example of her had been the right choice after all

The community service sentence at the orphanage served another purpose—it allowed Pi Chae-won to monitor Chun Geum-soon regularly.

She was slightly unhinged, capable of coming up with insane ideas, and had the ability to execute them in equally insane ways.

People like her were the ones politicians feared most.

We called them great figures.

Having dutifully conducted her surveillance, Pi Chae-won lingered even after finishing her report, looking visibly uneasy.

“Something wrong?”

“…Assemblyman, no matter how I think about it, this just feels—”

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.”

A familiar face peeked through the door.

“Ah, Chae-won was still here?”

“I’ve finished my report. You can come in.”

Pi Chae-won trudged out of the office, and Jang Won-jang cautiously entered, taking a seat on the sofa.

“So, how’s the orphanage director life treating you?”

“I think it might be my true calling.”

The former Black Market Commander near the Underground Assembly.

The former Director of National Intelligence’s Special Affairs Division.

The former Seoul District Chief Investigator.

Now, the Director of the Han Seung-Moon Foundation Orphanage.

“You’ve been a soldier, an agent, a police officer… and now an orphanage director?”

“Life takes you in strange directions, huh? Haha…”

I leaned on my cane, smiling kindly as I handed him a cup of yulmu-cha (Job’s tears tea).

“All of this is for the country and the people, isn’t it?”

“That’s true.”

“Let’s push through a little longer, together.”

He accepted the tea with both hands, sipping it respectfully. I took a small sip from my own paper cup.

The National Intelligence Service counterterrorism officer who once worked under Cha Jae-kyun now answered to me.

I didn’t even know his real name. It changed every time we met.

Now, he was the director of the Monster Damage Recovery Foundation’s Juvenile Support Center.

“How’s the ratio of Awakeners?”

He was assessing whether minors who had lost their families in Seoul had awakened abilities.

With hundreds of thousands of displaced orphans, the process was slow.

“Since they’re all from Seoul, the Awakener ratio is significantly high.”

“Has a connection between Gate mana and awakening been scientifically proven?”

“Statistically, yes.”

So, not scientifically proven.

Chun Hwa-ran, the top expert in this field, was currently heavily pregnant, leaving us with a severe lack of researchers.

“How’s Director Chun?”

“She said she won’t completely step away from research. She’s still in Seoul, not moving to Busan.”

“She’s about to give birth. Don’t push her. For now, if you find any highly educated Awakeners, send them straight to the research lab.”

“Understood.”

With Chun Hwa-ran taking medical leave, our research had stalled.

There were already methods to convert magic stones into thermal energy and even use them to accelerate physical recovery, but they were still in the experimental phase.

We had brought in countless scholars to study the subject, but finding an Awakener with expertise in both chemistry and human physiology was rare.

Magic was too abstract a field for those who couldn’t see mana to truly understand.

I knew that firsthand—because I couldn’t see mana.

Awakeners were categorized in various ways, but those labels were ultimately meaningless.

If David Kim threw a rock, he was a ranged combatant.

If Hong Seon-ah incinerated someone up close, she was a melee fighter.

And Kim Chun-sik always carried a gun, regardless of his ability.

The internet was full of fancy classifications—Attacker, Kinetic Manipulator, Healer, Psychic, Pyromancer, and so on—but they weren’t reliable ways to categorize Awakeners.

Only one classification system had been solidified: Type A and Type B.

– Type A: Those whose bodies were physically altered by mana.
– Their bodies changed—some became tougher, others developed enhanced senses, some could spit stomach acid or secrete poison.
– Examples: Yeo Do-yeon, Kim Chun-sik, Kang Seok-ho.

– Type B: Those who could use mana to exert abilities.
– They could control electricity, levitate objects, heal wounds, emit light, or bend physical laws.
– Examples: Hong Seon-ah, Gam Ji-yoon.

Both Type A and B could see mana and absorb magic stones to grow stronger, though the extent varied based on individual talent.

However—

I couldn’t see mana.

I couldn’t absorb magic stones.

Personally, I considered myself Type C.

Pi Chae-won was in a similar boat. She also couldn’t see mana or absorb magic stones.

No one understood the exact mechanics of this system, but that was just how it was.

“Ugh, my head hurts…”

“Are you alright?”

“I must be getting old.”

“Hah… really.”

Jang Won-jang asked me,

“Even in the underground research facilities at Inyeonsan, we never made much progress on this. The challenge was figuring out how to make the human body adapt to mana.”

“Were all the test subjects Type A?”

“Most were. Occasionally, there were Type B individuals. Their abilities varied widely, but the focus was on maintaining their sanity after transformation.”

“Hmm… Let’s put the headache-inducing talk aside for now. I should be getting a call soon…”

“Oh, then I’ll take my leave.”

“Yes. Thank you for your work.”

—

Exactly 51 minutes later, I received a text message.

An address.

—

It took me four hours to reach the location.

And in those four hours, the entire nation was turned upside down.

Dodging the press that swarmed me, I barely made it to the meeting point.

A bunker in the mountains.

At the entrance, security personnel were conducting body searches.

I handed them my tie pin and watch in advance, breezing through the check.

Inside, a cluster of National Assembly members sat huddled together, watching the TV.

Some had turned red in the face, screaming into their phones.

> [You said you were controlling the media! What the hell is this?! There should’ve been an embargo—an embargo!]

> [Hey, Chief Editor Kim, I’m really disappointed in you. Are you challenging me? Do you think no one knows about your kid’s drug problem?]

> [It’s me. Yeah. No excuses. Listen, I don’t care if it’s blowing up on social media. If you interfere with government affairs like this, it won’t end well for you.]

It was absolute chaos.

I quickly approached the TV to check the breaking news.

[NATIONAL ASSEMBLY RECORDING LEAKS – PUBLIC UPROAR]

The bold headline on the screen read:

[NATIONAL ASSEMBLY RECORDING LEAKS – PUBLIC UPROAR]

> […The recordings were leaked at 6 AM. The confirmed voices belong to Democratic Party members Kim Yoon-sik, Jung Cheol, and Yoon Jae-sang, as well as Republican Party members Jeon Pil-jae, Im Woong-jae, and Kim Jae-woon.]

The news ticker at the bottom changed.

‘Proportional Representation Exclusion – Collusion?’

Then, the broadcast cut to a dark silhouette with a cheap, floating 3D model of a gold Assembly badge, as a distorted, static-filled voice began playing.

> [I heard you met with Kim Jo-in, the proportional representative candidate, Assemblyman Jung.]

> […Well, he’s a senior figure in politics. It’s unfortunate he missed the cut by just one seat.]

> [Ehh, what? You think you’re the only one with people to take care of?]

> [Hey, watch your words.]

> [Quit nitpicking. Do you know how much we spent shutting up those gossipmongers? Now, you’re suddenly bringing up succession for a proportional rep? That’s just bad manners.]

In the proportional representation system, candidates are ranked in advance.

When voting, people receive two ballots—one for their district’s candidate and one for a political party.

If a party gets enough votes, they might seat up to 23 proportional representatives. If they receive fewer votes, maybe only 16 make it in.

Now, suppose 16 seats were won. If one of those proportional representatives lost their position, the 17th-ranked candidate would automatically take their place.

That was the rule.

> [You’re not seriously saying we should follow the rules now, are you? What did Kim Jo-in say?]

> [Show some respect to your seniors!]

> [I am his senior! Know your place before you start lecturing me!]

> [Alright, alright, let’s all calm down.]

> [That guy? That punk? I knew he was a nobody the moment he left the party. Who does he think he is, acting like he belongs?]

We had, for our own benefit, decided to block the succession process for proportional representatives.

The 12-member National Assembly had decided to hoard the political pie and agreed not to let any new members in.

> [What the hell did you just say?!]

> [Just don’t let any proportional reps in. We barely covered up the April general election delay, and now you want to bring it back up?]

> [Hey!]

> [Show some class! Some class!]

They had even postponed the April elections to keep the 12-member system alive.

> [You’re bringing up old news.]

> [Anyway, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear this nonsense about adding more proportional reps. My ears are rotting just listening to this.]

> [Can we all calm down—]

> [I’m done here. I’m leaving.]

> [Do you even know what happened to Assemblyman Kim after protecting you? He got eaten by monsters, you idiot! And now you act like you’re better than your seniors?!]

> [Unbelievable…]

“…Who did it?”

An assemblyman, fresh off a call, swept his venomous gaze across the room.

“That… that was months ago. Didn’t this happen in the Underground Assembly?”

“……”

“Who the hell leaked the recordings?”

One assemblyman pointed a finger at another.

“Hey. Are you trying to burn everything down just because we didn’t give Kim Jo-in his seat?”

“Do you seriously think I did this? And watch your damn mouth—”

Another grabbed the first by the collar.

“A punk who spent his career mooching off college kids’ lunch money dares to act high and mighty?”

“L-Let me go!”

“You think you can go toe-to-toe with prosecutors?”

“Are you crazy?!”

“Scared? Huh? You think I left my cabinet behind when I walked out of the prosecutor’s office?”

“What the hell are you saying?!”

“The whole thing about you screwing around with college girls—don’t think the prosecution let that go because you were innocent. The man who gave you your badge made sure it never saw the light of day.”

“You son of a—! That was decades ago!”

“The prosecution might drop cases, but they never erase records.”

The assemblyman glared at the room, his eyes burning with murderous intent.

“I don’t know which bastard did this, but mark my words—”

An assemblyman was threatening assemblymen.

“I’m not going down alone.”

—

Amidst the chaos, I kept my eyes locked on one person.

And he was looking back at me.

For a brief moment, I made eye contact with Yang Pan-seok.

He closed his eyes.

I looked away.

—

The Thirty-Six Stratagems

Defeated Warfare Strategy

The 33rd Stratagem

Counterintelligence : Divide the enemy and turn them against each other.