The Old Man's Gambit

The dawn air had settled cold over the hill, and at the bottom of it stood a woman in a cardigan. A single thin coat was all she had against the biting autumn wind. Her nose had gone red from the chill—it was almost pitiable to look at. But Kang-ho knew exactly what she was doing out there. She wanted it to be seen, plain and simple.

"Why are you standing outside?"

He widened his eyes at his stepmother, playing the fool who hadn't noticed a thing.

"You were summoned, aren't you? It's only natural."

Perhaps because of her disappointing stepson's marriage, her face looked a shade thinner than the last time he'd seen it. For all her prickly temperament, Hye-seon was, surprisingly, a simple soul—whatever storm blew through, she'd bounce back within days as if nothing had happened. But this time, that easy recovery didn't seem to be coming.

"Your grandfather, honestly—I don't know what hour of the day he thinks it is, dragging you back and forth like this. A man with as much on his plate as you have. Every time he pulls this, I could just about throttle him."

It was the kind of grumbling Hye-seon could never dream of voicing in front of that father-in-law of hers, so she poured it out to Kang-ho instead—probably because her own husband, his father, would never hear it. If you remarried into this family, the least you could do was fix that stubborn streak of yours. The old man's unshakable consistency, in its own way, exasperated Baek Hee-sang to no end. And Kang-ho, the old man's own flesh and blood, was no freer of it than anyone else.

"It's cold out. Get inside."

"Right. Take care in there."

"I will."

"Wait—why is this all crooked? Come here, stand still."

Hye-seon caught her stepson by the arm and straightened his tie for him. He'd looped it on carelessly on his way out of that woman's house, and apparently the result had offended his stepmother's eye.

"And don't half-ass the wedding preparations. You always say you're too busy. Got it?"

As if she wanted to coach him one last time, Hye-seon's advice ran long. Kang-ho urged her once more to go inside, then stood watching until his stepmother had disappeared through the main house doors before starting up the hill. He came to a stop before the nameplate on the annex—the one bearing his grandfather's name—and stared at it for a long moment.

A master woodworker had presented it to the old man as a gift. When it had been hung on the annex, Hee-sang's authority had been greater than Kang-ho dared to imagine. Luxury sedans with pitch-black tinting used to line up along the bottom of the hill, idling in a queue just for the chance to meet Congressman Baek Hee-sang. What hung before his eyes was power itself.

Plenty of men had served five terms in the National Assembly, sure. But the only figure who had ever straddled both ideological camps was Hee-sang. These days he'd withdrawn like some old man relegated to the back room, yet his network had never died.

Even now, wasn't he resorting to something as crude as a transactional marriage just to keep his grip? Kang-ho had resolved to strike at the old man's blind side if he couldn't block the move outright—and yet some part of him couldn't help wondering what sin that woman had committed to end up a piece on this board.

If he—or she—refused to move as the old man willed, Hee-sang would stop at nothing. Kang-ho had no obligation to answer for her future, but once her name was inked into the family register as his wife, the calculus changed. She would cling to him like a tail whenever it suited her, and there was no doubt she'd make his life miserable for it.

That was precisely why the old man had made his big bet on marriage. Kang-ho wanted to stop it if he could—which was exactly why he'd gone to the other party herself and begged her to refuse. Only to have his refusal refused.

The woman, after all, was pursuing her own desires. So the marriage had hardened into a transaction, and both parties had crossed into a phase where each was bound to carry out his duty. Through hardships like these, always, Kang-ho had endured without ever conceding victory to the old man—his own way, on his own terms. He fully intended for this to be no different.

Drawing a deep breath, he stepped into the annex.

"You've arrived, sir."

Chief Secretary Park Se-hyun was there to receive him. He clearly knew Kang-ho had been dawdling in front of the nameplate, and had waited for him to finish. Wasn't it just this year that the man turned sixty? His age was visible now, plain to the eye. Park Se-hyun's first tie to Kang-ho had come decades ago, when he served as Baek Hee-sang's legislative aide. Thirty years at the old man's side in politics—a comrade and a lightning rod both. A man who had never married and lived alone, all to keep faith with Baek Hee-sang over any family of his own. Sweet compensation and an appetite for power must have been attached to that decision from the very start.

At times, Park Se-hyun looked more like the real power than Baek Hee-sang did. That was the burden anyone who wielded other people had to shoulder—somebody had to be around to do the dirty work the master couldn't do himself. Even if, more often than not, it came back around as betrayal.

"The Chairman is waiting for you."

"What's on the menu today?"

Kang-ho asked it out of nowhere as he followed the secretary into the dining room—as if the breakfast menu mattered more to him right now than a private audience with Baek Hee-sang. He was the only person alive who could afford that kind of nonchalance, and Park Se-hyun's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"The Chairman requested simply boiled bean sprout soup."

"That stuff tastes like dishwater. So I'm being told not to eat, is that it."

Kang-ho shook his head like a child fussing over side dishes. He could read, plain as day, the secretary's failure to keep his expression in check. Since boyhood, Kang-ho had been a born contrarian, unpredictable as a cat in a China shop, and the old man had assigned minders to him for decades running. It must have been insufferable beyond words—yet you had to admit, the man's patience was legendary.

"Shall I have a separate meal prepared for you, then?"

Park Se-hyun added, his voice flat with insincerity.

"That would be lovely."

Kang-ho took him completely at his word, grinning ear to ear as he made his request.

"Boil me up some ramyeon and we'll be in business."

The way he rubbed his stomach, hungry as a schoolboy, made the look on Secretary Park's face twist—and that expression was wasted on an audience of one.

"About time you showed up."

Stepping into the dining room, Kang-ho found Baek Hee-sang already seated. He'd wondered what business had brought the old man out first—until he spotted what was sticking in his eye.

Place settings flanked the head of the table on both sides. He'd assumed this was a one-on-one with his grandfather. Apparently not. He was half-speculating that his father might have been summoned too, when an unexpected voice sounded behind him.

"I'm here, Grandfather."

Kang-ho didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Been a while, Congressman Baek."

The one greeting him with false familiarity was Baek Seong-jin, his uncle's son. Cousins with barely a month between them. Through sheer accident of birth, they'd been locked into a rivalry so relentless it had grown tedious. This bastard—invited here, of all places.

A dry laugh escaped Kang-ho as he glanced across at his grandfather. The old man's calculations deserved some credit, at least. He'd deliberately called Seong-jin here so the two of them would be forced to eat at the same table.

The reason was obvious. Word had reached him months ago that Baek Seong-jin was preparing to leave his anchor desk and move into the Blue House as a deputy spokesperson. And Kang-ho knew perfectly well where that maneuver had begun. The old man meant to throw them both into the pit and let them tear each other apart properly.

"What are you standing there for? Sit down."

As if he were savoring the whole spectacle, the old man urged them toward their seats. Seong-jin moved to Hee-sang's right and settled in first—no doubt because that was the side where his grandfather's gaze landed more often.

Kang-ho had no interest in joining such a juvenile standoff. He quietly took the seat at Baek Hee-sang's left. Food was set before all three of them in turn—except his, which had been swapped for ramyeon.

While Hee-sang scowled at the substitution, Seong-jin opened his mouth.

"So you're getting married. Congratulations."

Just how long his mouth had been itching to say that was written all over his face.

"Thought it'd be Hee-jin, honestly."

And of course that name would come up here. The corner of Kang-ho's mouth tilted into something bitter, and he fixed his cousin with a look of artful puzzlement.

"Weren't you the one who had him marked?"

Seong-jin's eyes wavered for an instant, as if he'd been struck in an exposed flank. It was such an obvious opening that the jab was almost boring.

"Well, it's not my time yet."

Seong-jin said it with a shrug, trying to laugh off his fluster.

"And who makes the time, exactly? If not for yourself."

With that, Kang-ho pivoted his attack with perfect ease. He felt the spoon hovering over the bean sprout soup stiffen mid-motion—the old man, going rigid for just a heartbeat.

"Wouldn't you say so, Grandfather?"

He asked it point-blank, leaving no room to play dumb and let it slide, and Hee-sang's gaze locked hard onto Kang-ho. Their eyes met at the thinnest of margins. In the suffocating silence, it was Seong-jin, funnily enough, who began to squirm.

"The bean sprout soup is really delicious, by the way."

Kang-ho turned his head toward his cousin, watching him scramble to change the subject. If a man couldn't withstand even this much pressure—if his nerve was the size of a bean—what business did he have thinking he could enter the political arena? Kang-ho was worried for the man's future already.

A month apart, yes—but a month made him the elder. And yet every single time, it was Kang-ho who moved first. Relegated forever to the position of playing catch-up, Seong-jin had been gnawed at by that inferiority complex his whole life.

All he had to do was walk his own road. Instead he strained, over and over, to accomplish things beyond his ability just to follow the path Kang-ho had already cut. Kang-ho could understand wanting to win—wanting it badly—but he had to wonder what, exactly, a man who had never won a single time in his life thought he was going to do.

The moment Baek Hee-sang threaded Seong-jin into the Blue House, the game was already lost. It wasn't that Kang-ho didn't know about that sun-warmed, cushioned road—he'd simply refused to take it. From the moment his grandfather pawned a man's life like that, a game with no possibility of winning had begun.

"And how's the bride-to-be?"

Seong-jin asked, casting about for something to attack with.

"Beautiful."

Kang-ho's answer was short. He slurped down a mouthful of ramyeon, chewed, swallowed—then smiled to himself, as if the thought of her had drifted across his mind unbidden. At that attitude, Baek Hee-sang, too, looked across the table at his grandson.

"Then isn't that all that matters?"

What more was there to say? Seong-jin went blank in the face of an answer so simple, so guileless. He was trying to gauge whether it was real or a lie. He of all people knew Kang-ho's history with women better than anyone.

After that, Kang-ho said little and devoted himself to the meal. Baek Hee-sang was hardly going to dispense pearls of wisdom at a table with Seong-jin sitting there. He dispatched a single bowl of ramyeon and slipped out of the annex on the pretext of a morning full of work.

Once he climbed into the car, he saw it—a sandwich tossed carelessly onto the passenger seat. Had that woman gotten up by now? Kang-ho picked up his phone, hesitated, then searched for Mu-young's number. The very instant his thumb moved toward the call button, a report message came in.

He tapped it, and there she was—the very woman he'd been thinking of. Mu-young, seated in the visiting room of the detention center, face-to-face with Congressman Son Tae-seung.