The by‑election had begun.
A typical by‑election might pass with little attention, but this one drew nationwide interest because not only the two major parties but also the People's Economic Party conducted major support rallies.
"The turnout for this by‑election is much higher than expected. As of 11 a.m., turnout has passed 20%, and the final turnout is expected to approach 50%," someone reported.
"At the last local elections, Seoul's turnout was about 54%, right? For a by‑election, that's definitely high," another replied.
Local and parliamentary elections are held on public holidays. By‑elections are not, and because this one was on a Wednesday, turnout had been expected to be low. Contrary to expectations, turnout was high—and which party that would favor was open to interpretation.
"Experts predict the unified opposition candidate and the People's Economic Party candidate will be in a tight race. In particular, the opposition candidate's profile rose sharply after the unification, generating momentum," an analyst said.
"The ruling party is responsible for the circumstances that led to this by‑election, so naturally this election is unfavorable for them," someone observed.
"Some even suggested the ruling party should not run a candidate, but they refused to back down and nominated someone," another added.
If they'd planned to step aside, they wouldn't have plotted a DDoS attack. The ruling party, desperate to flip a race they were behind in, had chosen the DDoS as a last‑ditch move.
"Any other developments?" I asked.
"They say the election commission's website has been disabled. Traffic surged suddenly and the site can't be accessed," came the reply.
"So the ruling party has finally moved," I said.
"What do you mean? Do you really think the ruling party took down the election commission's site? No matter how desperate they are, would they go that far?" someone countered.
The planning director had been kept out of the DDoS operation.
Unaware of anything, he received the evidence I had gathered over the past days.
"Once the counting is done, release this to each media outlet. With the video evidence included, the press will cover it extensively," I instructed.
"...How could they do such a thing? Did you expect the ruling party would attempt this, sir?" he asked.
"I was just investigating minor leads when I stumbled upon something bigger than anticipated. Make sure this frame—that the ruling party carried out a despicable DDoS attack—remains alive all the way to the next presidential election," I replied.
"With evidence this solid, the media will spread it even without our help. Still, we'll use SNS and portal sites to amplify the issue as much as possible," he said.
The DDoS attacks continued.
Although Taewoo Group's IT team could easily stop them, there was no need to intervene. The ruling party's goal was to target the opposition, and any reduction in the opposition's votes—even slightly—worked to their advantage. There was no reason for us to step in.
"The voting continues until 8 p.m., right? The counting won't start for a while. Let's use this time to receive reports from the subsidiaries," I said.
"Currently, with the Japanese earthquake and the Southern European financial crisis coinciding, some subsidiaries' sales have dipped slightly," the report came in.
I turned off the TV and focused on work.
The European financial crisis was generating enormous profits, but that wasn't entirely positive. Global economic turmoil inevitably led to decreased sales for export-heavy companies.
"Which subsidiaries have declined the most?" I asked.
"Taewoo Electronics and Taewoo-Kai Motors' European sales have fallen. Sales in China and the U.S. have increased, so overall revenue hasn't dropped significantly," came the reply.
This trend was expected to continue for the time being. The European market had slowed, but sales were strong in the rapidly growing Chinese market.
"It's fortunate that sales in China have increased, but it won't last forever. Eventually, China will prioritize domestic companies' products. Within the next ten years, we can expect a significant drop in sales there," I remarked.
"There are already signs that the Chinese government is gradually favoring domestic products across appliances, mobile phones, automobiles, and semiconductors," the report noted.
For now, China was an attractive market.
It would continue to generate strong sales for the next three years.
But the day when relations between Korea and China would sour was approaching, and preparations had to begin immediately.
"We need to keep exploring new markets. Early entry into Southeast Asia—including Vietnam—and India is essential if we want to replace the Chinese market," I said.
"Understood. As for Taewoo Semiconductor, sales remain extremely strong. Particularly with the rise in electric vehicle sales, semiconductor consumption has increased dramatically," came the report.
For semiconductors, there was no immediate concern.
The higher the electric vehicle market share, the more vehicle semiconductors would be sold.
Smartphone usage continued to grow as well, so semiconductor sales were projected to follow an upward trajectory.
"The problem lies with Taewoo Construction. This year, order volumes have dropped even further. Every month, we hear news of small- and medium-sized construction companies going bankrupt," the report continued.
"It's about time to play the post-sale apartment card," I said.
"Are you seriously planning to start post-sale apartment projects? Real estate prices are still falling, and this trend is expected to continue for at least the next five years," the advisor responded.
The once-popular notion of "real estate never fails" had completely vanished.
Construction companies were struggling to sell unsold apartments, and the market was clearly in distress.
"The real estate market seems quite challenging," I remarked.
"There's even talk that apartments may soon be sold through home shopping channels," came the response.
"How long does apartment construction take?" I asked.
"If permits are quick, about three years; if delayed, it could take four to five years," he replied.
"Then what's the problem? You said the recession lasts around five years. If construction starts now, won't the buildings be completed after the downturn ends?"
Even if completion occurred during the recession, it was inconsequential.
We could purchase the pre-sale rights now and resell them once the market recovered.
And if a boom followed, we could earn additional profits—there was no downside.
"No one can guarantee whether the real estate slump will last five years or ten," the advisor said.
"Even if it lasts ten years, it doesn't matter. With the capital coming from Japan and Europe, we could withstand it for not ten years, but a hundred. You've been receiving updates from Mr. Han, right?" I asked.
"Yes. Since he manages all of Taewoo Group's assets, we are in frequent contact. I've heard that returns are quite high, though I don't know the exact figures," he replied.
The Planning Director was the person who needed to know everything about Taewoo Group.
Yet, because many projects had been carried out without him, his information was lacking.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, I decided to give him a detailed explanation.
"With our investments in Japan and Europe, we can expect returns of at least $100 billion. Even after repaying the principal and all the interest, the profits will still be that substantial," I explained.
"$100 billion… that's over 130 trillion won. Has Mr. Han really generated that much profit?"
The Planning Director was too astonished to speak.
Understandably so—Taewoo Group's annual revenue was $200 billion.
Looking at operating profit alone, the group earned roughly $30 billion a year.
Yet, Taewoo Securities had generated three times the annual operating profit of the entire group in just a few months. It was no wonder the director was stunned.
"We were able to secure such profits thanks to careful preparation. With $100 billion, we can definitely proceed with post-sale apartments," I said.
"That's more than enough. Originally, we planned to construct apartments only in the metropolitan area, but now we can expand the construction to include metropolitan cities as well!"
The director's voice rose with excitement.
With a stable source of funds and the freedom to pursue ambitious projects, he was positively elated.
"Scale up the post-sale apartment projects as much as possible. If any units remain unsold after completion, they can serve as employee dormitories, or the company can offer interest-free loans to help employees purchase them. Of course, that's not an immediate concern," I added.
"I'll redesign the post-sale plan from scratch and also figure out how to release the DDoS evidence to the media as you instructed," he said.
The Planning Director quickly moved off to execute his plans.
Despite having more work than ever, he was thrilled—a clear reminder that he, too, was one of those utterly addicted to work.
It was 9 p.m.
Only an hour had passed since the by-election counting began, but the results were already starting to take shape.
"In the three Gangnam districts and Yongsan, the ruling party candidate is in first place, but in the rest of the constituencies, the race between the People's Economy Party and the opposition coalition is extremely tight," the aide reported.
"Of course, the Gangnam districts are the ruling party's stronghold. It would have been difficult to win there," I said.
"The People's Economy Party is leading in about twenty districts, and the opposition coalition is also in first place in roughly twenty districts."
The gap between first and second place was about 1%.
The ruling party candidate in third place was more than 5% behind, so there was no need to worry about them.
"What's the final voter turnout?" I asked.
"Since many office workers voted after leaving work, turnout came out higher than expected—51%. That's not much different from local elections," the aide replied.
This was a significant difference from the by-election before my return.
I didn't remember exactly, but previously, turnout had failed to surpass 50%.
An increase of at least 2–3% in voter turnout meant that if those votes went to the People's Economy Party, it would be a winnable election.
"Being a by-election, the counting will finish quickly. Let's watch a little longer," I said.
"Please take a rest for now. I'll contact you once the results are fully clear," the aide said.
I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes.
The Planning Director placed a warm towel over my eyes, and I managed to catch a short nap.
A few hours later, when the Planning Director returned, the fatigue from my eyes had completely vanished.
"What time is it now?" I asked.
"It's 4 a.m. The by-election results are finalized. The People's Economy Party has won the Seoul mayoral race by a 2% margin!"
I quickly turned on the TV.
I focused intently on the live vote-count broadcasts from each station.
The graphs wavered with each passing hour, but now the gap was gradually widening, and the People's Economy Party was securing its victory.
"First place 36%, second place 34%, third place 29%. What a tight race," I murmured.
"Excluding the stronghold districts of the ruling party, the People's Economy Party candidate has secured a large share of the votes in the other constituencies," the aide noted.
"Even after risking our lives to evacuate Korean residents in Japan, we've won by only a 2% margin," I said.
"Honestly, I can't guarantee that the People's Economy Party will win the next election. Compared to the two major parties, its roots aren't deep; it could easily be shaken at any time," the aide added.
"Once the center is secured, roots grow quickly," I reflected.
A party's roots ultimately depended on its presidential candidate.
If Governor Choi Jae-seok became president, everything would fall into place.
Choi Jae-seok had been silent for so long.
Now, it was time for him to break that long silence and step forward.