—The exit-poll results for the 15th presidential election will be announced shortly. The exit polling was conducted at 120 polling stations across the nation’s cities and provinces, surveying 3,000 people. This reliability…

On the TV, the vote-count broadcast for the 15th presidential election was in full swing.

Do-beom approached Tak-hyeon, who was watching the count broadcast with everyone gathered at Pyeongchang-dong.

“Who won?”

The counting hadn’t even begun, and not even the exit poll had been announced yet.

But even in such a situation, the Ilhyeon Group could know the outcome first.

Do-beom answered in a voice everyone gathered before the TV, Tak-hyeon included, could hear.

“Candidate Dae-sang Kim’s support has been confirmed at a little over 40 percent. A margin of about 1.5 percent over the ruling-party candidate.”

“1.5 percent…”

Tak-hyeon twisted the corner of his mouth up and nodded.

“He paid a steep price for his pride.”

Everyone seated there knew who it was Tak-hyeon meant had paid the price for his pride.

“That man who split off from the ruling party. How much support did he get?”

At Jeong-eun’s question, Do-beom wore a bitter smile and turned his head to answer.

“He secured 19 percent, they say.”

“19 percent?”

Jeong-eun clicked her tongue in astonishment and said,

“That’s more than a steep price. Dae-sang Kim ought to at least buy the man who broke off from the ruling party a meal.”

“Would a meal cover it? If that candidate hadn’t split off, most of those 19 percent were people who’d have voted for the ruling party. Honestly. Losing because he couldn’t take that bloc under his wing is impressive in its own way.”

Jeong-eun and Sang-jong could only marvel that, with the gap between Dae-sang Kim and the ruling-party candidate at a mere 1.5 percent, the third candidate—the one from the broader ruling camp—had pulled in a full 19 percent.

And Chang-jong, not to be left out of a conversation like this, didn’t forget to toss in his own remark.

“But this means that even with the IMF bailout blowing up right now, the broader-ruling-camp vote came out at nearly 50 percent—doesn’t that strike you as impressive too?”

“Our situation’s a bit special. We’re a country still at war, so it can’t be helped.”

Yeong-su Cha jumped in to add his own word as well.

As they traded remarks like this back and forth, the exit-poll results came up on the TV.

—Here are the exit-poll results conducted jointly by the three broadcast networks. According to the exit polls, opposition candidate Dae-sang Kim leads the ruling-party candidate by 1.5 percent. 1.5 percent is a very slim margin, and it seems we’ll have to wait for the actual count to know for certain who will be elected. So, viewers, please don’t leave your TV sets…

The broadcast said 1.5 percent fell within the margin of error, and that no one should rashly predict the outcome.

But at the Ilhyeon Group, the conclusion had been reached before the counting even began.

“Send Candidate Dae-sang Kim a congratulatory message, along with a note that if he’s not too busy, I’d like to see him as soon as possible.”

“Yes, understood. I’ll get in touch right away.”

Hearing Do-beom’s answer, Tak-hyeon rose from his seat.

“I’m tired, so I’ll turn in. The rest of you stay and watch longer if you’d like.”

“Father. Turning in already? The TV said it too, but what if the result…”

“It won’t change.”

Tak-hyeon threw out the near-certain remark as if there were nothing worth watching, and turned around.

Jeong-eun pursed her lips at his retreating back.

“If there’s nothing worth watching, then while we’re all gathered he could at least talk a little company business. We can’t even know how long we’re supposed to keep resting… Chang-jong, don’t you think? Aren’t you frustrated too?”

Jeong-eun had expected the count broadcast to run at least four or five hours.

So she’d come to Pyeongchang-dong resolved to quietly ask Tak-hyeon, over that stretch, when she might be able to return.

Since it wasn’t a matter of gulping down a meal and vanishing like on a weekend, but of sitting leisurely in the same spot for hours on end, she’d thought today was all the better for broaching the subject of her return.

But Tak-hyeon had left, saying there was nothing worth watching.

With no gain to show from the occasion she’d deliberately sought out, Jeong-eun could only feel frustrated.

“Brother. You put in a word for me too. If the eldest brother doesn’t look out for his little sister, who will?”

Jeong-eun offered the request to Mun-jong as well.

Right now, the situation was too frustrating to stand on pride.

“Hm? Brother. Help me get back to the company, would you? Please?”

Thinking that if she couldn’t get a firm answer from Tak-hyeon, she’d get one from Mun-jong instead, Jeong-eun put her request to Mun-jong once more.

But Mun-jong, ever since he’d arrived at Pyeongchang-dong, had simply kept his place with a grave expression, saying nothing at all.

“What is it? You don’t even want to speak up for me? Why won’t you answer?”

Perhaps feeling slighted by Mun-jong’s utter silence, Jeong-eun threw out barbed words.

Yeong-su Cha, seated beside her, was flustered by this side of Jeong-eun and tugged at the hem of her clothes.

But Jeong-eun paid no heed to Cha’s gesture and kept flinging sharp words at Mun-jong.

“Brother. Do you hate even talking to me? Why won’t you so much as answer and leave a person humiliated—is it that I’m a kite with its string cut, not even worth a glance?”

Even at Jeong-eun’s sharp words, Mun-jong rose from his seat without so much as a reply.

“I’ll be going too, so the rest of you do as you please.”

“You’re leaving?”

“The result’s as good as decided already—what’s the use of watching.”

And with that, Mun-jong turned around.

“No—even if you’re going, say something before you—”

Jeong-eun called after the departing Mun-jong, but he left without so much as a backward glance.

“Then I’ll take my leave as well.”

Just then Seong-ho rose too.

At Seong-ho saying he was leaving as well, Jeong-eun clicked her tongue.

“This family’s a real mess. Now it’s come to the youngest son-in-law getting up first while all the elders are still seated?”

“Dear, don’t be like that. He must be busy.”

Yeong-su Cha took Seong-ho’s side.

Perhaps liking this side of Cha even less, Jeong-eun fixed her husband with a hatchet-eyed glare.

Undaunted by this side of Jeong-eun, Seong-ho bowed his head and turned around.

Jeong-eun jeered at Seong-ho’s back, meaning for him to hear.

“Act ill-mannered because things are going your way lately, and someday it’ll all come back around. This is our house, not yours. Don’t forget that a son-in-law is a guest.”

To Jeong-eun’s jeering, Seong-ho answered with a smile in place of words.

Perhaps irritated by Seong-ho’s smile, Jeong-eun furrowed her face and turned her head away.

—The count for the 15th president has just begun. The first count news has come in from Siheung. In Siheung, with 0.3 percent of the vote counted, Candidate Dae-sang Kim…

Leaving behind the TV that had just reported the start of counting, Seong-ho turned and stepped out of the Pyeongchang-dong house.

“Brother.”

Having crossed the Pyeongchang-dong yard at a quick pace, Seong-ho called out to Mun-jong, who was just about to get into his car in front of the house.

Having opened the car door and about to climb in, Mun-jong turned to look at the Seong-ho who’d called him.

“What is it?”

“Brother. Get in first.”

“Get in first? And where do you suppose I’m going?”

“Right now, arguing over whether the procedure went properly or not is meaningless.”

“How do you—”

Mun-jong wore an expression of shock, as if he might faint.

Watching Mun-jong grip the door with trembling hands, Seong-ho persuaded him in a gentle voice.

“Get in first. Let’s ride and talk.”

The words from a moment ago—where do you suppose I’m going, that you’d have me get in—didn’t come out of Mun-jong this time.

He climbed into the car as Seong-ho bade, and after Seong-ho followed him in, Seong-ho instructed the driver.

“To the company.”

“To the company?”

Seated beside him, Mun-jong turned to Seong-ho with a flustered face.

Because Mun-jong couldn’t understand why he’d say to go to the company at this hour.

To the flustered Mun-jong, Seong-ho explained the reason in a calm voice.

“If we talk somewhere else, we’ll catch the Chairman’s eye. It’d be far more natural to go to the company and say we were drawing up a way to respond to the election results together.”

At Seong-ho’s words, Mun-jong nodded.

“Right… that would be better.”

Confirming that Mun-jong was persuaded, Seong-ho told the driver to set off for the company and patted Mun-jong’s shoulder.

“Brother. I’m here, so set your mind at ease.”

Mun-jong looked at the Seong-ho reassuring him with disbelieving eyes.

Since he couldn’t for the life of him tell whether Seong-ho was doing this knowingly or not, he only looked at Seong-ho, saying nothing.

Seong-ho smiled at Mun-jong and thought to himself.

In the former life I was blindsided, knowing nothing. But not this time. I’ll be the one to move first. That’s how I’ll have you dancing in the palm of my hand.

Hiding his true heart within, Seong-ho smiled at Mun-jong.

The company in the dead of night was nothing but quiet.

Today, of all days, was the day of the vote to choose a new president, so every employee had voted and gathered at home to watch the count broadcast.

But in this quiet company, only the Restructuring Headquarters Head’s office was lit up bright.

Seong-ho held out the coffee he’d brewed himself in front of Mun-jong and sat down across from him.

“There’s no secretary and no one in the office, so I brewed it myself—I’m not sure it’ll be to your taste.”

“It’s fine. It’s not as though I drink coffee for the flavor…”

Mun-jong said it was fine and tasted the coffee Seong-ho had brewed.

“This is good enough.”

Having rendered his verdict that it wasn’t bad, Mun-jong drank a couple more sips and set it down before him.

And unable to broach the subject first, he only gazed down at the coffee.

Seong-ho regarded him quietly for a moment, then set down the cup he was holding and spoke first, toward Mun-jong.

“Where is the expectant mother?”

“What?”

Mun-jong, who’d been gazing down at his cup, spoke toward Seong-ho with trembling lips.

“You… you… you know? How could you…”

“Brother. How I know isn’t what matters. Where is the expectant mother right now? Have you spoken with her? What does she say she wants?”

“What reason would I have to speak with her?”

Mun-jong turned his head away.

“Brother. Now is not the time to run from it. Meeting the expectant mother first is what matters above all.”

“What did you say?”

“You have to meet the expectant mother before you can deal with whether the child is yours or not.”

“It isn’t my child.”

“That’s exactly it.”

To the still-evading Mun-jong, Seong-ho offered words of persuasion.

“That’s exactly why it matters. That woman will keep insisting you’re the child’s father. To prove otherwise you’d need a paternity test—but what will you do if she refuses to go through with the test and demands you acknowledge the child first? And have you given any thought to what the Chairman will do if he finds out?”

“That’s…”

“You haven’t thought about it yet, have you?”

When Seong-ho let out a sigh, Mun-jong spat out an excuse.

“I didn’t… have the presence of mind for it.”

“I thought as much. It’s only natural your judgment would be clouded. Better to leave it to me—I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?”

“Brother. A matter like this is a battle against time. With everyone’s nerves strained over the election, the Chairman likely doesn’t yet know so much as the fact that there’s an expectant mother. But once today passes, the Chairman’s gaze will turn toward you, and then he’ll come to learn every last fact of it.”

“It’s not my child!”

Mun-jong shouted out.

But even at Mun-jong’s shriek, Seong-ho maintained his composure without so much as a flinch, and persuaded him.

“What does that matter? Someone set out to do you harm, and it’s an undeniable fact that the Chairman will be displeased when he hears the tale.”

“Then… what am I supposed to do?”

“That’s why you meet the expectant mother quickly and secure her, and once the child is born, prove through a paternity test that it isn’t yours. By our hands, not the Chairman’s.”

“By our hands?”

Mun-jong showed himself gradually coming around to Seong-ho’s words.

Seong-ho raised a hand toward Mun-jong and said,

“We have to take the lead and handle the matter. That way, even if the Chairman finds out later, we’ll have something to say for ourselves. And even if it turns out to be true…”

“There’s no way it’s true!”

Mun-jong maintained to the very end that it wasn’t his child.

Seong-ho looked at him and thought to himself.

Yes. Keep insisting like that to the bitter end. That’s how your sin will loom all the larger when the child is born.

Knowing full well that Mun-jong’s present attitude would only worsen the situation, Seong-ho played dumb and spoke.

“Understood. I’ll proceed with that case set aside.”

Mun-jong let out a sigh of relief at Seong-ho’s saying he understood.

Because the simple fact that one person had appeared who’d listen to him lifted his frustration somewhat.

Seong-ho rose from his seat.

Mun-jong looked up at the rising Seong-ho.

“Why are you getting up?”

“We’ve decided how to proceed, so shouldn’t we move as quickly as possible? Brother. Once today passes, it’s over.”

At Seong-ho’s words, Mun-jong opened his eyes wide, nodded, and rose from his seat.

“Right. If not today… there’ll be no time.”

Standing, Seong-ho looked squarely at Mun-jong, now standing before him, and asked,

“Where is the expectant mother, then?”

Unlike in the former life, Seong-ho was moving to get the expectant mother into his own hands, so as to seize the initiative.

(End of Chapter 113)