Free Web NovelAfter finishing the agreement with Han Jiho, I spent the evening drinking with Myungsoo, talking about all sorts of things.
Empty soju bottles began to pile up one by one, and before we knew it, there were more than ten stacked on the table.
Around then, Myungsoo—completely flushed with drink—started talking to me about the kind of politics he dreamed of.
“Buddy...... hey, Muhyuk!”
I stuffed a piece of hagfish into my mouth and answered bluntly.
“What? You still got something to say? Isn’t your mouth tired?”
“I...... I got a lotta things I really wanna do.......”
“Then do them. Just do it—what’s stopping you? I’ll help you with whatever you want.”
“Even if it ends up hurting you? Is it really okay to do it anyway?”
Myungsoo muttered the words with his head pressed against the table.
I stopped the soju glass I was bringing to my lips and looked at him quietly.
“Something that hurts me?”
“Yeah.”
Myungsoo suddenly jerked his head up, filled the soju glass in front of him to the brim, and drained it in one go.
“So what is it? What could possibly hurt me?”
“Muhyuk. Since I already stepped into politics, I wanna do it right.”
Instead of answering directly, Myungsoo rambled on, talking about things that felt like clouds with no substance.
“Yeah, I only put my foot in ‘cause you shoved me in, but even so, I......”
Not wanting to be looked down on, he slipped back into a dialect he usually avoided, his tongue starting to tangle as he spoke, pausing more and more often.
At the same time, he spilled thoughts he’d never normally voice.
“Just ‘cause I came this far ‘cause you told me to, that don’t mean I’m some scarecrow with no thoughts of my own, right?”
“When did I ever say you were my scarecrow? I told you to do whatever you want.”
“Yeah, right. I know you don’t see me that way, my friend Kim Muhyuk. But the problem is, the other guys don’t think that. Every last one of ‘em thinks I’m just your avatar, someone who only does what you say.”
At that, I just looked at Myungsoo without saying a word.
Of course I knew. I knew exactly how others saw him.
These days, most people recognized Myungsoo and me as separate figures—but the ones who’d only picked up half-baked rumors were the problem.
To them, Myungsoo was nothing more than my limbs planted in the political world, an avatar acting on my behalf.
“So. What’s your point?”
Judging by how much buildup he’d gone through, it was clear this was something he could only say when drunk.
I met the eyes of Myungsoo, his face red as fire, and asked.
“You remember what you said. That Jang Songthaek is about to carry out a currency reform.”
“So what? That doesn’t have much to do with South Korea.”
“Not necessarily. The Bank of Korea and the economic bureaucrats keep saying we need to cut down the currency units. If Jang Songthaek...... if North Korea’s currency reform succeeds, there’ll be a lot of talk here too.”
Even though his words came out in fits and starts, I understood perfectly what he was getting at.
The point was that discussions about our own currency reform could flare up as well.
But for me, that wasn’t exactly good news—which was probably why it was hard for him to bring up.
Myungsoo’s gotten more cautious with age. I let out a small snort and tipped back the soju in my hand.
“I think it’s absolutely impossible.”
“Why? Because it failed decades ago? Or because politicians haven’t dared to even say it out loud since then?”
“No. Because the losses outweigh the gains.”
Even in my previous life, debates about redenomination kept popping up in various fields outside politics.
But every time, the same criticism followed—that replacing all the infrastructure tied to the currency already in circulation would cost an enormous amount of money.
In the end, it never went beyond discussion. Instead, they took a detour and issued new high-denomination bills.
I didn’t think this life would be much different.
And just because North Korea might succeed, we’d have to do it too? The reasoning was way too flimsy.
“There are gains, sure, and losses too. But the economic bureaucrats say that in the long run, we have to change the currency units no matter what. For national competitiveness and all that......”
“So? You want to do it?”
“Shouldn’t we at least start talking about it in politics? We can’t keep treating even mentioning currency reform as some kind of taboo forever.”
A politician had to look toward the future. That was the future Myungsoo was sketching out for himself.
Seeing that, I was reminded of the old Myungsoo, the one who’d been shocked at the idea of himself ever becoming a politician.
It struck me how much this fledgling politician had grown.
“Then try bringing it to the surface. If you can pull it off, I won’t oppose you. But I’m telling you, I don’t think it’ll work.”
When I said it flatly, Myungsoo frowned in dissatisfaction.
“Wanna bet?”
“A bet?”
“I’ll try floating the idea. Let’s see what happens—whether it goes the way you say, or whether real discussions actually start.”
At his suggestion, I laughed without realizing it. You really have grown up, Lee Myungsoo.
“Why you laughing? Think it won’t work?”
“No. I just think it’s a really stupid idea. Let’s do it right away. The scenario is......”
“I’ll handle that. When Jang Songthaek announces the currency reform, the broadcasters here will plan special programs about it. I’ll go on one of those and bring it up casually.”
“How long have you been thinking about this? Well, do whatever you want. Just don’t expect too much.”
“But is it really okay? Pyeongchang-dong and all that......”
When I agreed so readily, Myungsoo hesitated instead, glancing at me like he hadn’t expected it.
“Pyeongchang-dong? Ah, the cash I’m holding? That’s manageable. Don’t worry about it. Just go ahead and do what you want.”
I was holding a lot of cash, sure—but it was something I could deal with through Taesan Bank, and there were other ways too.
I had no intention of stopping Myungsoo over something that trivial.
Besides, I was curious whether he could actually pull it off if he seriously worked to shape public opinion.
“I’ll just sit back and do nothing.”
Myungsoo stared at me in silence. I filled his glass with soju, then poured one for myself.
* * *
After hearing the whole story, Han Kyungyeong clicked his tongue.
“Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo’s no ordinary guy either.”
“You need that kind of guts.”
Breaking an unspoken rule was never easy for anyone.
“And you’re just going to watch?”
As if. I shrugged.
I’d told Myungsoo I wouldn’t do anything—but in truth, I’d already prepared everything.
I’d asked the host to relentlessly press Myungsoo on his remarks......
“And we need to toss a source to the Progressive Party. It takes two hands clapping to make a sound.”
No matter how loudly Myungsoo shouted, nothing would happen if the Progressive Party didn’t pick it up.
I turned my gaze back to the TV. On the screen, Myungsoo scratched his cheek with an awkward expression.
— Please state your position clearly.
As the host pressed him again, Myungsoo let out a deep sigh.
— This is strictly my personal opinion. Please understand that there has been absolutely no discussion about this with President Yoon Changho, the Blue House staff, or the party.
— That’s for the viewers watching to judge.
At the host’s firm response, Myungsoo’s eyes darted around as he stalled for time, wetting his lips with the water left from earlier.
He’s dragging it out on purpose. Honestly, Lee Myungsoo’s acting has really improved.
After a long pause, Myungsoo finally opened his mouth.
— We need to at least begin the discussion. Once problems actually arise, it’s already too late. Like many economists argue, I believe we need to overhaul everything that could become a drag on international competitiveness. And the first step should be changing the currency units.
— Are you saying, then, that Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo supports currency reform?
— If it’s necessary. As I said earlier, this is something I alone have carried in my heart. Let me repeat: there has been no discussion of this whatsoever with the Blue House.
Myungsoo drew a clear line between himself and the Blue House.
At that moment, Professor Lee Minwoo, who had been listening from the other side, cut in.
— Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo! Can you take responsibility for that statement?
— Yes. It’s only natural that a politician bears responsibility for his words. I believe it’s time for a full-fledged discussion on currency reform.
― And how do you intend to deal with the chaos that would follow? You can’t possibly be unaware that this is an issue where the losses outweigh the gains.
― Before weighing gains and losses, we need active discussion. Only then can we examine the issue from multiple angles. How long are we supposed to be afraid of even mentioning currency reform?
As the panelists began to stir, the host hurriedly cut in.
― Time has already gotten away from us. We’ve heard many valuable opinions today. Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo’s remarks will be addressed separately at a later time.
The host looked straight into the camera and wrapped things up.
― It might not be a bad idea to keep an eye on where North Korea’s newly announced economic policies and currency reform are headed. This has been Today’s Issue.
The host bowed in greeting. At the same time, the camera pulled back, briefly capturing the host and panelists exchanging farewells.
I turned off the TV as commercials began to play and looked toward Han Kyungyeong.
“Everything clean on the paperwork?”
Snapping back to attention, Han Kyungyeong replied.
“I haven’t checked all of it yet. But more importantly, are you sure this is okay? Just bringing the discussion up could swing public opinion in unpredictable ways. It might not go the way you’re thinking, Muhyuk.”
“I’ve already thought up countermeasures for that too, so don’t worry. Still, it won’t be easy. People got burned too badly.”
The past currency reform, when deposits were frozen and the economy seized up, causing small and mid-sized businesses to collapse one after another.
No matter how much time passed, the nightmare etched into the memories of those who lived through it wouldn’t fade easily.
Well, I didn’t know how the generation that hadn’t experienced it firsthand would react, though......
“But if things unfold the way Myungsoo intends, that’s interesting in its own way too.” freewёbnoνel.com
If Myungsoo managed to pull off what he set out to do, it would mean his capabilities exceeded even my expectations.
Having a capable political partner keeping pace with me was something to be happy about.
“Just review the documents properly. Let me know if there’s anything that could be a problem.”
I cleared my thoughts and decided to refocus on work.
At my prodding, Han Kyungyeong stuck his lips out slightly, then turned his gaze back to the documents.
A little while later, after finishing his review, Han Kyungyeong looked up.
“Done. Doesn’t look like there’s anything problematic.”
“Good. Then clean it up and get the corporation established.”
“And the CEO?”
“Manager Ma will take the title of CEO.”
“Manager Ma?”
“Yeah. He’s the one I trust the most.”
Too many people were tied up in this.
Barack Obama, President Yoon Changho, and my friends—and the people I needed to look after—I’d distributed shares to them as well, even if only a little.
I planned to share the profits from the Iraq reconstruction project with my people.
There couldn’t be even the slightest problem with that.
“Then with Manager Ma as CEO, what about the rest?”
“You set that up however you see fit. You’re the best at this kind of thing anyway. I’ll handle all the negotiations myself, so as long as it looks right, that’s enough.”
“Okay, boss!”
Calling me a workaholic—he’s even worse.
Watching Han Kyungyeong hum to himself at the prospect of more work, I let out a small chuckle.
* * *
After finishing the broadcast and returning to party headquarters, Lee Myungsoo met with the party leadership.
Representative Han Jiho sat at the seat of honor, with the others split on either side.
With a grave expression, Han Jiho spoke first.
“Secretary-General Lee.”
“Yes, Representative.”
“What were you thinking?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“What on earth were you thinking, bringing up currency reform yourself? Don’t you know that everyone treats your words as the will of the Blue House?”
Lee Myungsoo frowned.
Even though he had clearly stated that he’d had no discussions with the Blue House, Han Jiho was still asking whether its influence had reached him.
“I already said it on the broadcast. I had no consultations with the Blue House, and it was purely my personal opinion. I didn’t expect that question today either. But I couldn’t very well lie, could I?”
“Your personal opinion, huh. If not that, then......”
Han Jiho trailed off, but Lee Myungsoo had no trouble guessing what he meant.
He wanted to ask whether it was Kim Muhyuk’s will. Clenching his fist tightly out of sight, Lee Myungsoo shook his head.
“It’s my own opinion. It’s true that many scholars are making the same argument. And as far as I know, the Bank of Korea has already completed preparations related to it. The administrations before the last and the one before that only conducted internal reviews without carrying it out, but there are more than enough reasons why it needs to be done.”
Not only the leadership aligned with Han Jiho, but even those who shared Lee Myungsoo’s stance didn’t look pleased.
“Do you not understand what I’m saying? I’m asking whether there was any need for you to throw out that topic at all. Do you /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ really not know why politicians avoid talking about it?”
Han Jiho let out a sigh. But Lee Myungsoo didn’t back down.
“It was something someone had to say eventually. North Korea has implemented currency reform. If not now, we won’t be able to discuss this topic at all. The host set the stage, and I judged it to be the right timing, so I threw it out there.”
“Even so, you should have at least discussed it with me.”
“I didn’t expect it to turn out like this today. I apologize.”
Lee Myungsoo bowed his head to Han Jiho. Watching him with displeasure, Han Jiho let out a deep sigh.
“Say no more for now. Let’s decide our party’s response based on how the Progressive Party moves. Understood, Secretary-General Lee?”
“.......”
Seeing Lee Myungsoo keep his mouth shut, Han Jiho softened his voice, speaking as if to soothe him.
“I’m asking you this as a favor. Politically, this issue has too much fallout. It would have been easier for us if the Bank of Korea had thrown out the topic first and we’d responded. But you threw it out first. That means now, someone else—not you—has to pick it up. Wait until then. After that, we can decide our party line.”
“Understood. Then what do you think, Representative?”
“I’m opposed. But what does my personal opinion matter? Public opinion is what matters. For now, let’s watch.”
Lee Myungsoo didn’t respond, merely lowering his gaze.
The hand he’d been clenching into a fist had gone white.
Time passed quickly, and a week flew by in no time.
The media seized on the topic Myungsoo had thrown out, fanning the flames day after day.
Economists in favor lent weight to Myungsoo’s view, while opponents led by Professor Lee Minwoo criticized him.
Yet not a single politician—neither from the ruling party nor the opposition—had made any concrete statement.
Amid the churning public opinion, the groundbreaking ceremony for the Kaesong Industrial Complex arrived right on schedule.
Leaving the blazing media frenzy behind, President Yoon Changho at the head, along with leaders from both the ruling and opposition parties, crossed the Military Demarcation Line and headed toward Kaesong.
