Chapter 2

EP 1 - I Lost My Job (2)

The candidate registration had ended a long time ago.

Since it was a Republican stronghold, no other parties put up candidates, leaving only the Republican and Democratic candidates.

However, the Republican candidate was arrested for violating the political funds law, even during the campaign.

The Democratic Party's attack dogs were sure to show their teeth. This wasn't for me, but for the greater good of the country. The Republican candidate was arrested for violating the political funds law during the campaign. He had a good reputation.

I was the only remaining candidate.

* * *

If I hadn't run.

If I had just put up the 15 million won deposit and not campaigned.

If the Republican candidate hadn't been arrested for violating the political funds law.

If the son-in-law of Yang Pansuk, a member of the National Assembly, hadn't been a prosecutor.

If this place wasn't Gyeongsangnam-do, and the Democratic Party hadn't been so interested.

If the Democratic Party hadn't provided concentrated support in the later stages of the campaign.

- "Yes! In Tongyeong City and Goseong County! The Democratic Party candidate Han Seung-moon has been confirmed to win with 61.2% of the vote!"

"Wowwwwwww!"

"Han Seung-moon! Han Seung-moon!"

"It's doneeeeee!"

I wouldn't have gotten the gold badge.

"Seung-moon! Great! Great!"

"Uh, uh, uhh...!"

"Hey! You should be called 'Representative' now! Really? Really?"

My uncle hugged me excitedly, my aunt collapsed on the floor sobbing, and Yeo Do-yeon rushed over, grabbing my collar and grinning widely.

The Democratic Party's office manager put a flower garland around my neck, the campaign workers rushed over shouting, and the enthusiastic party members sprinkled flower petals on me.

Journalists, who hadn't seen a young National Assembly member in decades, and the only Democratic Party member from Gyeongsang-do, thrust their microphones at me.

"Th-th-thank you! Everyone! Thank you!"

If I hadn't knocked, the door wouldn't have opened.

However, as in all political arenas,

the word "if" was useless.

*

"Ah, Representative Han Seung-moon."

"Hey, hey, Representative Yang!"

Representative Yang Pansuk smiled contentedly and shook my hand.

"You were just going to lend your name and put up the 15 million won, but it turned out I owe you a favor."

"No, no! Absolutely not! It's all thanks to Representative Yang—"

"Sure, sure. I get it."

He sat me down in his office and smiled broadly.

"It's a good thing you won."

"Thank you!"

"Enough with the formalities. Do you understand what this means?"

Knowing what I know, and not knowing what I don't. Even if I graduated from a prestigious university, it wouldn't help much. This was my creed. As a personal secretary, I always showed loyalty.

Now wasn't the time to prove my loyalty.

The significance of a 20-year-old disabled Democratic Party National Assembly member from Gyeongsang-do was clear.

"Representative, you have opened a new path for the Democratic Party. You have infused young blood into the National Assembly and personally demonstrated the representation of minority rights and the breaking of regionalism between Gyeongsang-do and Jeolla-do—"

"Be brief."

"Congratulations, Party Leader."

"Sure, sure. It's important to stick to the key points."

He patted my shoulder and whispered softly.

"I thought you'd just put your name on it, but you put in all your assets. I was so impressed that I mentioned it to my son-in-law..."

Yang Pansuk's son-in-law was a prosecutor.

"Did you make a big catch?"

Yang Pansuk was the one who sent the Republican representative to jail for violating the political funds law. He was the one who made me a National Assembly member. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe Yang Pansuk was lying.

Regardless of the truth, what mattered was that he said it to me.

I nodded silently with a stern face.

"Hmm."

Yang Pansuk patted my shoulder and offered me a cup of barley tea.

"Don't be so formal. Have some of this. I didn't expect to be working with someone I've been close to for years..."

"It's an honor, Representative."

"Relax a bit."

"Sure."

It was the moment I became a staff member of a four-term Democratic Party heavyweight.

* * *

Actually, Yeo Do-yeon often won prizes at martial arts tournaments and had excellent physical attributes.

But she wasn't a huge success. She often clashed with the management because they kept trying to strip her and send her into the ring.

She also refused to fix matches. This was the biggest issue. In any case, there were complicated backstories.

I was 27, and she was 28. At 28, one could say she was in her prime, but in the Korean market, where looks and physique were more important than martial arts, it wasn't a particularly attractive age.

Yeo Do-yeon was skilled, but not world-class or even top-tier domestically. She was just good. She knew this and repeatedly put in bone-crushing efforts.

However, no management company would take on a fighter with a bad reputation in the industry.

My aunt also hinted at it, asking me to take care of my sister.

"Sister."

"Why, Representative."

Yeo Do-yeon and I were sitting across from each other in a pig intestine restaurant. She was grinning and shoving meat into her mouth. She said she shouldn't eat it, but it was a celebration for my election.

Perhaps, by eating what an athlete shouldn't, she was subtly conveying a message, but that might be an overinterpretation.

"Do you want to become a civil servant?"

Yeo Do-yeon silently picked up a piece of meat. She usually avoided it to build muscle.

She occasionally frowned with fierce eyes and sighed deeply, distorting her delicate face with her hands.

I often overworked my liver by drinking with Yang Pansuk, but Yeo Do-yeon had never touched alcohol.

She downed the soju I was drinking in one shot.

Then she fell onto the table. Her expression was hidden by her hair, but she definitely nodded slightly.

She lay there silently for a while.

Some people achieved their dreams, and some lost them.

*

As a secretary, I knew very well how the representative's office operated.

Two 4th-grade secretaries, two 5th-grade secretaries, and five underlings. A total of nine people.

The 4th and 5th grades were divided into chief secretary, political secretary, constituency secretary, and policy secretary.

The five underlings handled coffee, driving, policy-making, security, publicity, and drinking with clients.

I was a 7th-grade personal secretary among the underlings. I drove, sometimes carried illicit money, and so on.

The important thing was that I was part of the staff, and the staff had their own community...

"Wow, crazy..."

"Should we start calling you 'Representative' now?"

"Bro! Can I follow you? Our boss is such a pain..."

I had become a star overnight!

"Hey, give me a shoulder rub."

"Are you planning to leave with a bullying scandal?"

"Sure. You're a first-term representative."

I had three close friends among the underlings. They weren't 4th or 5th grades but 8th and 9th grades. We always hung out in the corner of the National Assembly's break room.

"Bro! How was it being elected?"

"What's there to say?"

"You always complained about the chief secretary behind his back."

"That lady couldn't even look me in the eye."

"Ha-ha-ha!"

Yang Il-ho laughed, grabbing his belly. He was the first joker.

"Anyway, you're free from that. Congratulations."

"Why are you so indifferent?"

"Well, our boss lost, and I lost my job. My pension is gone. Sigh. I endured all kinds of sexual harassment, and now I'm jobless."

"Are you asking to come with me?"

"I didn't exactly say that, but..."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Bro, don't be like that."

Lee Ho-jeong's eyes sparkled as she grabbed my wrist. She was the second joker.

"Anyway, congratulations, bro."

"Your representative lost too, right? It's like a dead duck egg."

"......Yes."

"I'll take the young breadwinner. Cheer up."

"Thank you! Bro!"

"Did you expect this?"

"......Hehe."

Kang Seok-ho smiled and scratched his head. He was the third joker.

I just called them Il-ho, Ho-jeong, and Seok-ho. They matched their personalities, were diligent, capable, and hardworking in their 20s. I decided to keep my bond with these friends.

"Do you know my sister who does martial arts? She'll be a 7th-grade security and personal secretary."

"Really?"

"First, Il-ho and Ho-jeong should move up to 8th and 9th grades."

"Yesss! Escaping intern life!"

"Thanks. I'm moving up a rank."

Seok-ho swallowed hard.

"Seok-ho, you're the breadwinner. You have a lot of mouths to feed, so 6th grade. Not upset, right?"

"Yes!"

"Come on, we're all friends here..."

Il-ho and Ho-jeong readily congratulated their friend's promotion, and Seok-ho shed a tear.

"......Thank you, Representative."

"I'll choose the two 4th-grade and two 5th-grade secretaries from Representative Yang's and my mother's friends. People I know might find it awkward."

Ho-jeong asked, twirling her hair.

"I guess. People who are about to lose their jobs will be miserable."

"If you're upset, you should have been nice to me earlier."

"Ha! Well said."

I had sufficiently shown off to my friends.

*

"......Do you like it?"

"Yes. I love it."

"Stay focused. You know better than anyone what it's like to work in the National Assembly."

"You should also listen to Mr. Byun."

Mr. Byun So-jeong, a lawyer, had the nickname "Byun-byun" for being unremarkable.

"Aunt, do you know any friends interested in being a secretary?"

"Many, but they're hesitant to work with you."

"Really......"

The reason was obvious.

A lucky National Assembly member, a brief star who would end their political career in a four-year contract. It was a bit of a waste to leave a stable job as a lawyer to invest in this.

"You placed your friends in 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th grades?"

"My three friends and my sister."

"You'll get criticized......"

"Let's see how it goes. They'd be jobless without me."

Byun So-jeong, a current lawyer at a large law firm, sipped her espresso elegantly and advised me.

"You've been sharp since you were young, so I'm not too worried, but always walk on thin ice. In this world, if you laugh at your early success, you'll be criticized."

I smiled at my aunt.

"Can't you just say you're worried?"

"......Well, me."

*

"Hello, Representative Yang!"

"Ah, Representative Han. The name sounds a bit strange. Representative Yang and Representative Han..."

Grandpa was in a good mood and made a joke. I laughed as naturally as possible. This was a familiar act.

"I can't ride in the car Han Seung-moon is driving. It's a bit disappointing."

"Sorry. I'm away from my post unwillingly."

"Hey, don't say that!"

Given his tendency to speak indirectly, he seemed to mean that I shouldn't bow too much in front of others since I was no longer a personal secretary.

"Have you hired all the staff?"

"Yes."

"Be careful not to be too influenced by personal connections."

"Isn't it good to take care of your people?"

"Hmm. You have a point. You're already playing politics. I see you have a good eye for talent."

"Thank you."

When I met Representative Yang Pansuk (I was actually waiting for him) near the National Assembly and entered together, several familiar faces gathered around.

"Ah, Representative Han. Congratulations. You did a great job."

"No, it's thanks to the party's support."

"How old is Representative Han Seung-moon? Oh, 27. If he were a year younger, he would have broken Kim Young-sam's record."

"Haha, I still have a lot to learn."

"Ah, Representative Han? I saw you once during the campaign."

"Hello! Leader! I really appreciate it!"

The people who gathered around Representative Yang Pansuk greeted him and then gave me a nod. From well-known politicians to the opposition leader.

I felt like I was about to lose my mind. Was there anyone in Korea as successful as me in their 20s?

My fingertips trembled at the thought of the bright future ahead.

I was a very lucky person.

"Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii