Knock, knock.

“Come in.”

Tak-hyeon Lee, poring over the petition, called out loudly toward the door at the sound of the knock.

Soon the door opened and Chief Secretary Do-beom Hwang came in.

“Have you handled everything?”

“Yes.”

The moment he entered the chairman’s office, Do-beom Hwang reported what he’d handled.

“I conveyed the chairman’s wishes clearly to the head prosecutor at the Seoul Central District Prosecutors’ Office. And I made it explicit that the punishment should be handled as harshly as the law allows.”

Thud.

Tak-hyeon Lee tossed the petition he’d been reading onto the desk.

Then, turning to sit facing Do-beom Hwang, who stood beside the desk, he said,

“Criminal punishment for embezzlement and breach of trust goes without saying — but also process the compensation for the company’s losses at the same time.”

“Yes. As it happens, I’m about to hold a meeting with the legal team shortly regarding this matter. I’ll tell Managing Director Kim to give this top priority and put a large team on it.”

Even hearing that both the criminal and civil sides had already been prepared, Tak-hyeon Lee ground his teeth.

“These bastards are out of their minds — thoroughly out of their minds. We say we’re switching suppliers, and they go demand money from them? Just how lightly did they think of this company, to do something like that without the slightest hesitation!”

Tak-hyeon Lee believed that disrespecting the company was the same as disrespecting him personally.

Which was why his fury only grew, and why he wanted an even harsher punishment.

“Criminal liability is a matter for the prosecution to investigate and the court to judge, but civil is different. If they’ve caused the company damage, find every last toothpick’s worth of it! And strip them down to their underwear and collect every bit!”

“Yes. Understood. We’ll make sure they’re properly punished.”

At Do-beom Hwang’s answer, Tak-hyeon Lee forced down his boiling anger.

Then he turned his head and looked at the petition on his desk.

“It’s a method I never would have imagined.”

Sensing that Tak-hyeon Lee’s anger had cooled a little, Do-beom Hwang carefully brought up the subject of the petition.

“I never expected we’d obtain evidence to catch President Do and the executives’ corruption in a way like this.”

At Do-beom Hwang’s words, Chairman Tak-hyeon Lee slowly nodded.

“Right. I thought this would end with us simply raising our voices internally and firing them. I even thought of blowing up the whole company myself, since even I found it hard to get evidence. But… to think he’d manufacture and send in evidence by a method like this.”

Now that his anger had settled, astonishment began filling Tak-hyeon Lee’s mind.

“On top of that, he even had a recorder prepared to secure airtight evidence. It’s as if…”

“It looked as though he’d prepared for it, knowing exactly how it would turn out.”

“You think so too, Chief Hwang?”

At Tak-hyeon Lee’s question, Do-beom Hwang nodded and said, looking at the petition,

“Yes. Not just one, but every single new supplier sent in a petition and recording, all with one accord. This… I don’t think it’s possible unless it was anticipated in advance.”

“Right… he definitely knew beforehand.”

Tak-hyeon Lee picked up one of the petitions and looked over its contents again as he spoke.

“Kim was aiming for this all along.”

Tak-hyeon Lee believed that everything — from the circumstances that led to the petition being filed, all the way to the outcome — was a piece Seong-ho Kim had crafted from the start.

“Kim must have known the evidence was insufficient. So he dug the trap in advance to manufacture evidence and waited, and the dung flies came flying straight into it. Right. He anticipated it and waited.”

Tak-hyeon Lee tossed the petition back onto the desk and turned his eyes to the clock.

It was nearly nine in the evening.

Tak-hyeon Lee turned his gaze back to Do-beom Hwang and asked,

“It’s starting today, wasn’t it?”

Do-beom Hwang immediately understood what he meant and answered,

“Yes. The time-signal ad is set to begin with MBS’s 9 o’clock news tonight.”

Tak-hyeon Lee pointed a finger at the television.

“Turn it on. I want to see for myself just how good it is.”

One of the methods Seong-ho Kim had brought to promote Ilhyeon Watch was precisely this time-signal advertisement.

By inserting an ad announcing the time right before the 9 o’clock news, Seong-ho Kim’s argument was that they could build an image where “watch” meant “Ilhyeon Watch.”

Finding the idea plausible, Tak-hyeon Lee had approved the time-signal ad Seong-ho Kim brought in.

But since its effectiveness couldn’t yet be known, he’d offered a modified proposal, stepping back a pace from Seong-ho Kim’s plan: try it experimentally on just MBS’s news, one of the three broadcasters.

Monopolizing every ad slot on the 9 o’clock news across all three networks had its advantages, but the drawbacks were considerable too.

He’d worried about the backfire if the hoped-for effect failed to appear, and Seong-ho Kim had understood that worry.

Instead, he’d stressed that if the effect proved certain, they’d need to move quickly to monopolize the 9 o’clock news ad slots across all three broadcasters.

Only then, Seong-ho Kim believed, could the time-signal ad’s effect be maximized.

Tak-hyeon Lee had accepted Seong-ho Kim’s argument.

And today, with the first ad airing, Tak-hyeon Lee intended to see with his own two eyes just how effective it would be.

When Do-beom Hwang turned on the television, a flurry of ads from various companies were airing before the 9 o’clock news began.

Tak-hyeon Lee put a cigarette to his lips and quietly waited for all the ads to end.

Being the 9 o’clock news, with an older viewer demographic, a number of ads geared toward adults had been placed before the hour.

Once the commercial break wrapped up, and fifteen seconds before nine, the screen changed, and a large clock shape appeared on a blue background.

Beneath that clock, the words “Ilhyeon Watch” were stamped boldly.

The clock hands on screen moved as an announcer’s voice came through.

—The precise time, brought to you with Ilhyeon Watch. Ilhyeon Watch announces 9 o’clock. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep~~

—Good evening. This is the MBS 9 o’clock news.

Tak-hyeon Lee, cigarette still in his mouth, and Do-beom Hwang beside him, watching the ad together, both froze in place.

The two of them could only stare blankly and wordlessly at the television screen as the news came on.

When the cigarette in Tak-hyeon Lee’s mouth burned down short enough that the smoke hit his eyes, his frozen hand finally moved.

He tapped the ash from the cigarette in his mouth into the ashtray and instructed Do-beom Hwang,

“Call the PR department right now and tell them to lock down the ad slots on the other two networks’ 9 o’clock news. Along with MBS, that’s all three networks — have us monopolize the time-signal ad for one year… no. Three years. Five years. Right, five years sounds good. Tell them to monopolize it for five years. The price might double by tomorrow, so tell them to do it right now. Immediately.”

“Yes. Understood.”

Do-beom Hwang understood the reason for Tak-hyeon Lee’s urgent instruction.

Because he was feeling the very same thing Tak-hyeon Lee was.

Do-beom Hwang was about to leave the office to call in the PR department, who’d already gone home for the day, but he paused and turned back to Tak-hyeon Lee.

“Chairman.”

Halfway out the door, Do-beom Hwang asked Tak-hyeon Lee,

“What should the ceiling be on the ad budget?”

“Match whatever price they name. The price is going to double every day we’re late anyway, so don’t fuss over cost.”

“Yes. Understood.”

Chief Secretary Do-beom Hwang bowed his head to Tak-hyeon Lee and left the office.

Recalling that he’d been too stunned to properly smoke his cigarette, Tak-hyeon Lee took out a fresh one and put it to his lips.

Lighting it and smoking, he muttered to himself in a voice full of disbelief.

“I thought he was a clever fellow, but at this level, isn’t ‘clever’ an understatement? Just what is this man made of? How can all of this possibly come out of one person’s head?”

Tak-hyeon Lee had thought it would already be a good deal even if all Seong-ho Kim did was point out where Ilhyeon Watch was rotten.

But Seong-ho Kim had cut out the rot, applied medicine, and made new flesh grow back.

Tak-hyeon Lee smoked his cigarette, wondering whether he needed to reassess his evaluation of Seong-ho Kim entirely.

Coming into the office, Byeong-ju Jeong couldn’t hide his delighted face as he spoke.

“Assistant Manager Kim. The time-signal ad’s a massive hit!”

Byeong-ju Jeong came over to sit beside Seong-ho Kim and began relaying what he’d heard around the office.

“People are saying they set their watches by the time shown on the news time-signal ad! It’s gotten to the point where people say ‘Ilhyeon Watch’ when they mean an accurate clock. Our brand value’s shot up in one stroke.”

“Do you know what all this is?”

At Byeong-ju Jeong’s excitement, Seong-ho Kim, instead of answering, pointed to the stack of documents in front of him and asked.

At that, Byeong-ju Jeong looked at the stack of documents, puzzled.

“What’s that?”

“Requests from Ilhyeon Watch stores nationwide, asking for stock.”

“All of that?”

“Yes.”

Seong-ho Kim pointed to the other stacks of documents sitting beside the one he’d just indicated.

“Those are requests to open new Ilhyeon Watch stores.”

“What’s with all these?”

“Not just department stores, but requests from dealers wanting to carry our watches at airports and in city centers — that’s how many there are.”

“Wow…”

Byeong-ju Jeong examined the dealer requests Seong-ho Kim had pointed to and clicked his tongue in wonder.

“The effect really is a massive hit, isn’t it. At this rate, we could boost market share by more than 5% in one stroke.”

“Yes. I’m thinking of setting 5% as the first-stage target, and aiming to take the number-one market share within three years. To do that, we need to go on the offensive even more aggressively right now.”

At the words “aggressive offensive,” Byeong-ju Jeong recalled a document he’d completely forgotten about.

“Ah! I forgot to give you this.”

Byeong-ju Jeong pulled a document from his bag and held it out to Seong-ho Kim.

“Just as you said, we signed an advertising contract with the country’s top box-office actress. 50 million won a year. It was such a generous offer that even her side didn’t refuse.”

Seong-ho Kim checked the contract and set it aside.

“Have it air right before the time-signal ad. If the two run back to back, the synergy will be that much bigger.”

“I was actually about to tell PR to do exactly that. More than that…”

Byeong-ju Jeong stopped mid-sentence and stepped over to the door.

He carefully opened it, confirmed no one was outside, and closed it again.

Click.

Having even locked the door, Byeong-ju Jeong came over to Seong-ho Kim and said in a low voice,

“I heard out there that President Do Eun-cheol and the executives are likely to be arrested. There’s a rumor going around that the chairman was furious and is preparing a civil suit for hundreds of millions of won…”

“It’s not a rumor. It’s true.”

“It was true?”

“Yes.”

At the confirmation that the rumor floating around was true, Byeong-ju Jeong wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and said,

“Those people should have kept their greed within reason.”

Byeong-ju Jeong shook his head at the boundlessness of human greed, then said again in a low voice,

“So that’s why the new suppliers who joined are a bit worried, apparently. Worried that the fallout might land on them somehow.”

Seong-ho Kim smiled lightly at Manager Byeong-ju Jeong and said,

“Don’t worry. That will absolutely never happen.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. So please tell them not to worry.”

Having heard Seong-ho Kim say it clearly, twice over, Byeong-ju Jeong let out a sigh of relief, as if his own affairs had been resolved, and sat down.

Then he looked around the office and said,

“You’ve accomplished so much here — how about settling into a position here? The executives have all been completely replaced, and given you personally achieved such great merit, coming on as an executive here wouldn’t be bad, would it…”

At Byeong-ju Jeong’s words, Seong-ho Kim let a smile touch his lips and shook his head.

“No. I have no intention of that. I’ve got other work to do.”

“Other work? What work?”

Manager Byeong-ju Jeong looked at Seong-ho Kim with curious eyes.

But Seong-ho Kim only smiled at his question and answered in his heart.

‘Revenge.’

Recalling his past life, still vivid even now, Seong-ho Kim repeated the word revenge to himself in his heart.

(End of Chapter 28)