Captain Kang's Office.
A highly satisfying contract had just been signed with five AOS developers.
The sum of 10 billion won was not the least bit regrettable, considering it secured a deal with the creators of a genre that would dominate the PC gaming scene for over the next 20 years.
That's how grateful I felt.
Why else would I have assigned Captain Kang as their bodyguard for their return to the United States?
Team Leader Han, unaware of these sentiments, expressed mild dissatisfaction at what he saw as an excessive contract.
"Isn't this deal a bit much, considering they're just university students? While 10 billion won
might not be a massive amount in game development, the Taewoo Group already has a large inhouse development team. Couldn't we just develop the game you want internally, without having to contract with them?"
"Why are you being so negative? Don't think of it as spending 'as much as' 10 billion won—think of it as having hired them for 'only' 10 billion."
"You really believe the genre they're creating will become that big?"
"Right now, it's just a custom map within a Blizzard game, but once the standalone version
launches, they'll surpass Blizzard entirely."
Of course, that would take at least another 10 years.
But ten years from now, the AOS genre would be the dominant force in gaming, and at the very heart of it would be the game these developers were creating.
In the previous timeline, the AOS genre had fragmented into several competing titles.
But this time, I had secured exclusive contracts with all the key personnel. Unlike before, only one AOS game would be released—mine. I would monopolize the entire genre.
"Your judgment has never been wrong, so I'll make sure they get all the support they need. I'll rent them a great office in Silicon Valley and make sure they have full benefits and support."
"They may not look like much now, but in time, they'll become an incredible cash cow."
While I was conversing with Team Leader Han, Captain Kang returned from the airport.
He approached in haste, delivering urgent news.
"Assemblyman Choi Jaeseok has contacted us. He'd like to meet this evening."
"Really? Secure a quiet restaurant."
Assemblyman Choi wasn't someone who asked for meetings without a compelling reason.
The fact that he had requested one meant it was undoubtedly something important.
"Sir, I'll be heading back to the U.S. now. I've enjoyed this business trip disguised as a vacation."
"You're not staying a few more days to rest?"
"We need to monitor the U.S. real estate situation in real time. No one knows when it might collapse, so from now on, I'm going to remain on high alert 24/7."
"There's still a little time left, so don't push yourself too hard just yet. If you tense up too early, you might burn out when it really matters."
"I'll manage my condition and keep a close eye on things."
With a wave, Team Leader Han headed off toward the airport.
I also got into a car with Captain Kang, en route to a quiet restaurant to meet with Assemblyman Choi Jaeseok.
As we were driving, SG Entertainment CEO Kang Sugi suddenly came to mind.
"Do you know how CEO Kang Sugi is doing these days?"
"I've heard he's doing just fine in the detention center. I get regular updates through contacts in the prosecution."
"Doing fine, huh? Looks like the hope torture is working just as planned."
"Yes. Top-tier law firm lawyers are visiting him, and the prosecution is treating him gently. His confidence is through the roof. He doesn't even realize what kind of situation he's in."
Kang Sugi was enjoying a rather comfortable stay in the detention center.
Because he believed he had the support of major law firms and prosecutors, he wasn't making any effort to help himself.
But what if I hadn't extended him a hand?
He would've done whatever it took to survive—of that I was certain.
A frog in warm water doesn't jump out.
Even as the temperature rises, it doesn't notice the danger and eventually misses its chance to escape, ending up boiled alive.
That was exactly Kang Sugi's current state.
He believed he was safely immersed in the warm waters of the Taewoo Group, unaware that the temperature around him was steadily rising.
"We've arrived. Please wait a moment. I'll make a final check for any eyes watching before
escorting you inside."
Captain Kang picked up his radio.
Only after receiving the all-clear from staff positioned around the restaurant did he open the car door for me.
Once inside—after all that security—Assemblyman Choi Jaeseok was already there, waiting for me.
"Assemblyman Choi, it's been a while. How have you been?"
"Thanks to you, Vice Chairman, I've been doing well without any issues."
We exchanged light pleasantries and began our conversation with some small talk.
The first topic Assemblyman Choi Jaeseok brought up was the relocation of the administrative capital.
"While the full capital relocation was blocked, the political parties have reached a consensus on relocating administrative agencies."
"That's good news. It's a necessary move to alleviate the overconcentration in the capital region."
"This shift has changed the political landscape, especially with regard to the voting power of
Gyeonggi and Chungcheong provinces."
"That's only natural, considering Gyeonggi Province's population continues to grow."
"That's why we're planning to focus heavily on Gyeonggi in next year's local elections."
So that's why he wanted to meet.
Next year's local elections—which would determine key positions like the mayors of Seoul and the governors of Gyeonggi Province—were as crucial as the national legislative elections.
To establish a strong political base, it was essential to secure as many seats as possible, not just for mayors, but also for city and district council members.
And the stronger the foundation in the local elections, the higher the chances of success in future legislative elections.
"Even if you're focusing on Gyeonggi, you'll still be short on manpower. Just the number of
provincial assembly members exceeds a hundred. If you're also fielding candidates for city and district councils, you'll need at least 500 people."
"Thanks to you, Vice Chairman, we've had a wave of young talent join the People's Economic Party. We have no shortage of candidates for local council positions. What we do need, however, is a strong central figure to rally around."
That was true for every election.
The stronger the central figure, the easier it became to rally support during campaigns. But how many politicians had nationwide name recognition?
That's why even the major political parties went to great lengths to bring in prominent figures to serve as their public face.
"I probably shouldn't say this, but I don't think the People's Economic Party has any high-profile politicians who can serve as that kind of focal point."
"That's why I'm planning to run for governor of Gyeonggi Province."
"You, Assemblyman Choi? But isn't your political base in Busan and the Gyeongsang region? Wouldn't it make more sense for you to run for mayor of Busan or governor of South Gyeongsang?"
Assemblyman Choi Jaeseok's fame wasn't what it used to be.
But the moment he became the leader of the People's Economic Party, he gained nationwide
recognition.
Even so, it was uncertain whether that recognition would be enough for him to abandon his home base in Busan and South Gyeongsang and win the Gyeonggi governor's seat in one go.
"In the end, if I want to aim higher, I need to build a political base in the capital region."
"I agree with that. But you don't have any real ties to Gyeonggi, do you? Running for mayor of Seoul seems more feasible. You went to university in Seoul, and it's not a place where local ties matter as much, so your chances would be better."
After all, how many people in Seoul were truly born and raised there?
Most had moved from other regions to settle in the capital. Among them were plenty of people from Busan and Gyeongsang, so Choi wouldn't be at a significant disadvantage there.
But Gyeonggi Province was a different story.
Though new towns had brought in people from all over, it still wasn't enough. Maybe in ten
years, but right now, it would be a tough battleground for him.
"I understand very well that Gyeonggi puts me at a disadvantage. But Gyeonggi is home to nearly a third of the cities in the country. It's a place where over twenty mayors can be elected."
"So you plan to transform the People's Economic Party into a Gyeonggi-based party."
"If I can make Gyeonggi and the Busan–Gyeongsang region the strongholds of the People's Economic Party, then we can start dreaming even bigger."
The population of Gyeonggi alone exceeded ten million.
Add Busan and Gyeongsang together, and that's another seven million.
A total of seventeen million people—roughly one-third of South Korea's population.
Even if the major political parties dominated the Yeongnam and Honam regions, Choi could still lay a powerful foundation to rival them.
"If it works, you'll really be able to aim higher. But moving up doesn't always mean it'll be for the better. The presidency in Korea is just a five-year term, after all."
"That's what worries me, too. That's why I'm trying to foster more political talent and raise the party's visibility starting now."
Choi Jaeseok had clearly made up his mind.
And of course—anyone in politics would dream of becoming president someday.
He was no different. That's why he was ready to take the risky leap of running for governor of Gyeonggi Province.
"Very well. I'll lend you a hand with your grand vision, Assemblyman Choi. But this doesn't
change our relationship. Taewoo Group doesn't need favors from the People's Economic Party. All we ask is that the political world doesn't try to use us as a scapegoat."
"Thank you for saying that. I, too, hope our current relationship remains unchanged."
Taewoo Group and the People's Economic Party.
They helped each other, but there was no direct exchange of money.
That's what made their relationship sustainable. But for Choi to achieve the dream he envisioned, substantial funding would eventually become necessary.
"How do you plan to manage campaign funds? I know the government reimburses campaign
expenses if a party gets a certain percentage of votes, but you still need upfront capital to get
there."
"I've received offers from several large corporations willing to support the People's Economic Party, but I turned them all down. That's why we're feeling the financial strain. But if I want to pursue the kind of politics I believe in, I can't accept corporate backing. Honestly, I don't know what to do."
Running under the People's Economic Party banner guaranteed a certain level of support.
So qualifying for reimbursement wasn't the hard part. The problem was that the party didn't have the money to cover the upfront costs.
"Have you considered using crowdfunding?"
"…Could you explain that in more detail?"
"Just as I said—we launch a fund. Political donations today are structured as gifts, but we can introduce a model where the money is returned once campaign expenses are reimbursed."
Before my regression, it had become common practice to launch political funds to raise campaign money.
However, this type of fund had never been introduced in Korea yet, so it was an unfamiliar
concept.
"You're suggesting we raise campaign funds in the form of an investment fund. If the expenses are reimbursed and supporters get their money back, it could certainly attract more funding than donations alone."
"It's a perfect strategy for local elections. Grassroots campaigns should be funded by grassroots money. We'll provide the personnel to build out the crowdfunding system—just make sure the People's Economic Party is ready to promote the campaign fund aggressively."
"I'm really glad I came to see you. I can't believe a problem this big was solved so easily! Thank you, truly."
Assemblyman Choi Jaeseok clasped my hand firmly.
It was clear from the strength of his grip how relieved he was—solving what had felt like an
impossible obstacle without outside support must have lifted a huge weight from his shoulders.