Free Web NovelThe officetel owned by Song Chanhyuk in Gwangju, Gyeonggi Province. When Heo Taemin arrived and pressed the doorbell, Song Chanhyuk personally opened the door.
Heo Taemin entered alone, without any aides.
Inside, there was no one but Song Chanhyuk.
As Heo looked around for people and confirmed there was no sign of anyone else, he finally extended his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Candidate Song Chanhyuk.”
“An honor, Candidate Heo Taemin.”
Song smiled and shook his hand.
After the greeting, Song led Heo to the living room.
Instead of sitting right away, Song walked to the kitchen and began brewing coffee.
Heo watched with curiosity. Had he sent all the servants away?
“You make your own coffee? That’s unexpected.”
“Haha. Just because I’m a chaebol doesn’t mean I let others do everything for me, Assemblyman. A person should do what he can himself. I make coffee, and I cook, too.”
Song, moving with ease, finished brewing the coffee and brought the cups to the table.
Setting one in front of Heo, he said,
“I made it myself, but the aroma is quite good. Please, have a taste.”
“Coffee brewed personally by Candidate Song? I’m honored.”
Song lifted his cup first, savoring the aroma before taking a sip.
Heo followed suit, but after only one sip, he set the cup down, his friendly smile fading as he spoke.
“Let’s get to the point. Neither of us has the luxury of time, do we?”
The mood shifted instantly, but Song nodded calmly.
He set down his cup and met Heo’s gaze.
“Very well. Let’s hear why you suggested this secret meeting, Candidate Heo.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. As it stands, neither of us has a real chance of winning.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Song continued to feign ignorance, and Heo, growing impatient, opened his mouth again.
“Come now, Candidate Song. Let’s speak frankly. We don’t have time to test each other anymore. There’s less than a month left.”
Heo was desperate.
Since Yoon Changho had already seized the initiative with his campaign to divide ruling power between the Blue House and the ruling party, copying that pledge would do nothing to regain momentum.
Moreover, Heo absolutely refused to give up party leadership.
“In that case, yield to me.”
Song spoke evenly. He already knew that Heo was the one in a hurry.
“Come now, Assemblyman Song.”
“If we unify under me, our chances of defeating Candidate Yoon Changho rise—even if only slightly. You know this, don’t you?”
Where did he get that confidence from? Heo clicked his tongue inwardly but kept a composed face.
“Do you really think the people will sit back and watch a chaebol become president? Don’t be fooled by the approval ratings. They’re illusions. Chairman Song himself believed those numbers when he ran for president, didn’t he? And we both know how that ended. You don’t want to walk that same path, do you?”
At the mention of Chairman Song Youngjoo, the smile vanished from Song Chanhyuk’s face.
“Watch your words, Candidate Heo. Why bring up my father’s name here?”
“I say this out of concern. Politics isn’t something you can lead with approval ratings alone. Even if you were elected, what could you do without the National Assembly’s support?”
To a casual listener, it might have sounded like concern, but beneath it was clear disdain.
“Do you think you have the ability to rally the Centrist Party’s support like President Kim Hakgwon did? That’s doubtful. But I can. That’s called political power, Candidate Song. Right now, you’re blinded by your own numbers and can’t see even one step ahead.”
“...Do not mention my father’s name again. The moment you do, this meeting is over. Understood?”
But Song didn’t seem to hear anything, only glared at Heo. freewebnσvel.cøm
Reading the anger in Song’s eyes, Heo raised both hands.
“Calm yourself. I meant it out of concern. Anyway, you can’t deny my point. Tell me, can you really win the Centrist Party’s backing?”
“What you can do, I can do as well. There’s no reason I can’t.”
Song spoke confidently, and Heo shook his head.
“If I yield, it must be something our party members can understand. And they won’t.”
“Then let’s forget about unification. I see no reason for it anyway. There’s still a month until the election, and no one knows how it will turn out.”
“Candidate Song—”
Heo called out in frustration, but Song calmly corrected him.
“Presidential candidate, Candidate Heo.”
“Fine, Candidate Song. Then how about this—we settle it with both a public poll and a party member vote. Fifty-fifty.”
“Be reasonable. If there’s a party vote, I’ll obviously lose.”
The scheme was too transparent. Song let out a cold laugh. Though he had founded his own party, it was barely more than a shell.
“Then what do you propose? Shall we both lose to the Centrist Party?”
“Let’s decide by public poll. I’ll accept the results.”
Currently, Song’s poll numbers led Heo’s by about five percent.
If unification were based on polling alone, Heo was doomed to lose.
“What nonsense! To rely only on polling—there’s no precedent for that!”
The two refused to yield, arguing sharply.
After two hours of deadlocked negotiation, the first to step back was Heo Taemin.
“We both agree this country mustn’t fall into the hands of that loan shark. You agree?”
“You mean President Kim Muhyuk?”
“Exactly. That man is truly terrifying. He understands the law better than anyone—and uses it better than anyone. And when the law doesn’t work, he doesn’t hesitate to use violence.”
Song said nothing.
“You should know better than anyone, given Daehyeon Group’s situation. After Chairman Song Youngjoo’s passing, his sons should have divided the affiliates and gone their separate ways. But look now—Chairman Song Chanwoo holds Daehyeon completely, with President Kim Muhyuk supporting him from behind.”
“Let’s stop this conversation. It has nothing to do with today’s matter.”
Song cut him off firmly, but Heo continued undeterred.
“Listen, Candidate Song. Don’t ignore reality. The more I learn about that man, the more I fear him. We cannot let power fall into Yoon Changho’s hands. If it does, no one can predict where this country will go.”
“You seem awfully afraid of President Kim Muhyuk.”
“That terrifying former president Choi Sunman was bound hand and foot because of that man. Even President Kim Hakgwon moves according to his will.”
Song let out a long sigh and looked at Heo.
“So what are you proposing?”
“Let’s unify. Let’s win. I’ll yield. I’ll agree to unification based solely on polling. But whatever the outcome, whoever wins, we must merge our parties afterward.”
Song looked genuinely surprised.
“You mean you’ll actually accept a poll-based unification?”
Heo nodded, then leaned forward and lowered his voice.
“In return...”
* * *
After listening to the full recording, I snorted.
“That bastard Heo Taemin—he’s plotting something amusing.”
Manager Ma removed the CD from the player and came to stand beside me.
“Haha, looks like Assemblyman Heo really hates me. Did I offend him somehow?”
“Yes. Letting him be will not end well.”
Heo and Song had ultimately agreed that, no matter who became president, they would secretly investigate me.
Then came their private deal:
If Heo became president, he would help Song take control of Daehyeon Group.
If Song became president, he would guarantee Heo’s nomination rights—and protect Song’s share in return.
At first glance, the poll-based unification seemed to favor Song Chanhyuk, but in truth, the real winner was Heo Taemin.
“What should we do...”
The leverage I had on Heo had already been used.
Of course, I could use it again, but that would backfire.
The ones whose weaknesses I’d already exploited might go all in and fight to the end.
So no, I couldn’t reuse it. A promise was a promise.
If I broke that trust, no one would ever deal with me again.
“Edit out any part where my name comes up and send it to the press. The unification announcement will probably happen tonight. Let them enjoy their sweet little dream for a few days. Once the reports of their backroom deal start circulating, they’ll be too busy tearing each other apart. The unification will fall apart. Two days from now would be perfect.”
“Yes, understood.”
I tapped the table with my finger, thinking for a moment, then added,
“For progressive outlets, make it look like the leak came from Song Chanhyuk’s camp. For ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) conservative outlets, disguise it as coming from Heo Taemin’s side.”
Tear each other apart.
Destroy each other.
And fall into the abyss.
Better to die now—because once the election ends, hell will be waiting for them.
At some point, a crooked smile crept onto my lips.
The news of Heo Taemin and Song Chanhyuk’s unification agreement shook the presidential race.
At a dawn press conference, they declared that they would entrust their fates to the will of the people.
From businessmen in suits to workers in coveralls, everyone was talking about it.
The fact that Heo had yielded in the unification talks greatly improved his public image.
Yoon Changho made no comment. He simply continued his schedule as usual.
He said not a single word about their unification.
And then—
Starting with Koryeo Daily, the filthy details of their private deal were exposed.
An hour after the article broke, Yoon Changho held a press conference.
― “Dear citizens, this is presidential candidate Yoon Changho. Everywhere I went yesterday, people asked what I thought about the unification of the two candidates. I believed it was their decision to make, and I respected that. But after reading the article in Koryeo Daily today, I have made up my mind. I will not stand idly by. If this report is true, there is no greater corruption. This is a backroom collusion that betrays both history and the people.”
Almost as if rehearsed, Yoon held his conference immediately and didn’t hesitate to use harsh language.
But Heo Taemin and Song Chanhyuk had no time to care about him.
The most damaging revelation was that, if Heo won, he would use state investigative agencies to help Song seize control of Daehyeon Group.
It meant using public power for private gain—an unforgivable statement for a presidential candidate.
The two began attacking each other viciously. The unification collapsed, and they spent their time hurling accusations.
In that chaos, Yoon Changho said nothing more.
Even during televised debates, he didn’t mention the scandal—but Heo and Song tore into each other on stage.
The day before the polling blackout, surveys showed Yoon Changho with over 50% support.
Some polls had him nearing 60%—a number unthinkable in a divided nation like Korea, split by region and ideology.
Time passed, and the presidential election day arrived.
Early that morning, I arrived at the polling station with Manager Ma.
“There aren’t many people here.”
It was still early, so aside from a few elderly voters, the place was nearly empty.
I showed my ID, received my ballot, and entered the curtained booth.
Among the list of candidates, I stamped the box next to Yoon Changho’s name.
After dropping the ballot into the box, I walked out.
The morning sun was slowly rising. With a faint smile, I left the polling station.
