Chapter 31. Kwon Jaegwan Goes Berserk (4)
“Perfect.”
After listening to Yubin’s full report, Kim Seongjun gave her a thumbs-up.
Kim Seongjun was famous for rarely praising his juniors.
That alone made the compliment unusual.
“You checked Pebble Beach too?”
“Yes. I met one of the managers there and asked.”
“What did he say?”
“They still have a business to run, so he wouldn’t tell me everything outright. But I confirmed that Kwon Jaegwan was in one of their VIP rooms that costs tens of millions of won for a single night.”
“How?”
Everyone was curious about that.
Yubin opened the gallery on her tablet and tapped on several photos.
“These are screenshots from the Facebook accounts of people who were at Pebble Beach that night.”
The photos showed people drinking and partying wildly.
It wasn’t immediately obvious who everyone was, but once the images were enlarged, there was no mistaking Kwon Jaegwan’s face.
“This should guarantee his arrest.”
“We can’t jump to conclusions. It’s not like his law firm is sitting around doing nothing.”
Whether he was arrested or not wasn’t really their concern anyway.
The life of a daily newspaper reporter was practically no different from that of a day laborer.
Every morning, they had to pitch stories.
During the day, they wrote them.
In the evening, they had to start searching for what they would pitch the next morning.
Soon enough, the Kwon Jaegwan issue would be forgotten, and they would have to find something else.
The cycle repeated endlessly, like a hamster running on a wheel.
What made that exhausting routine bearable were solid stories like this one.
“Can you finish the article by this morning?”
Yubin had actually already written it.
But she thought she should have Harok desk-edit it first.
She didn’t want to hand it over as-is and get chewed out by the Chief.
Who yelled at you made a difference in how the criticism felt.
Back when she was a trainee, Harok had scolded her so badly that he had brought her to tears more than once.
At first, she had wondered what kind of monster he was.
But Harok treated every trainee by exactly the same standard.
If someone failed to report properly or wrote an article without confirming the facts, Harok absolutely tore them apart.
The trainee group chat turned into a daily forum for cursing Baek Harok.
At first, everyone joined in.
They practically competed over who could insult him more viciously.
But by the time their trainee period ended, they had all come to agree on one fact.
The person who had taken a bunch of reckless rookies and at least taught them how to write a proper line of news copy was Baek Harok.
The person who realized that most painfully and quietly cried over it was Yubin.
Because during training, nobody had cursed Harok more enthusiastically than she had.
Macho.
Male chauvinist.
Nazi.
Those were just some of the names she had called him.
But she had been wrong.
He hadn’t looked down on her because she was a woman.
He had scolded her because she had lacked the skills required of a reporter.
She had only understood that later.
“I’ll finish it and upload it as soon as possible.”
[Yubin: Senior, emergency!!!]
[Harok: What?]
[Yubin: Please desk-edit my article.]
[Harok: Ask your Chief.]
[Yubin: ㅜㅜ]
[Harok: Ha... What is wrong with you?]
[Yubin: Once a first-line senior, always a first-line senior.]
[Harok: I’m a culture reporter now.]
[Yubin: Are you really going to be like that?]
[Harok: Fine. Send it.]
[Yubin: Hehe. Sending it now.]
Harok immediately checked his email.
Clack, clack.
He opened Yubin’s article and began editing in earnest.
For an entire hour, Harok carefully revised the story.
Readers usually had no idea.
They didn’t know how much care reporters had to put into sensitive social-affairs stories.
An article criticizing someone could become a scarlet letter that followed that person forever.
A single report saying someone was suspected of a crime could cause a life built over decades to collapse like a sandcastle.
And the writer wasn’t safe either.
One wrong step and the reporter could be sued.
That was why social-affairs articles had to be written with absolute care, down to every word and every particle.
When the subject was someone with money and power like Kwon Jaegwan, even more caution was necessary.
People like him used major law firms to file enormous lawsuits against individual reporters.
A newspaper might have an in-house legal team and lawyers.
But could they really compare to attorneys from one of the country’s biggest firms?
One mistake could mean spending years going in and out of court.
“Done.”
Tap, tap.
After fixing the final sentence, Harok pressed save.
“There was still that much to change?”
Harok had been wondering why the back of his head felt itchy.
Yubin was standing right behind him, watching.
“You scared me. Weren’t you out reporting?”
“We had an all-hands satsumari meeting today because of Kwon Jaegwan.”
“Then why didn’t you just come over earlier? Why message me?”
“For security. It would look weird if a culture reporter were editing a social-affairs article where everyone could see.”
So you know that.
And you’re still asking me to edit it?
Harok was speechless.
“Then why are you here now?”
“It’s lunchtime. The newsroom is empty.”
He had been so focused that he hadn’t realized how much time had passed.
“Ah. I should go eat.”
“I’ll buy.”
“No. How can a senior let a junior pay?”
“This is payment for your tutoring labor. Otherwise I’d be an evil employer making you work for free.”
She sure knew how to talk.
“But is my writing still that bad?”
Yubin had clearly worked hard on the piece, and seeing it cut apart like this had bothered her.
That was understandable.
Who enjoyed watching their writing get turned into a patchwork?
“It’s kind of like... habitual editing syndrome.”
“What?”
“Basically, when I see writing, I feel compelled to change something.”
“Then...”
“There are things that actually need fixing. But your writing style is different from mine, so I keep wanting to touch it.”
Harok explained it as gently as possible.
If he tore into her like last time, it might have the opposite effect.
Teaching juniors required a little push and pull too.
Fortunately, Yubin seemed to understand.
“The more articles you write, the more naturally your own voice and style will form. What matters is refining that and continuing to develop it.”
“I knew asking you to desk-edit was the right choice. Please keep doing it from now on too.”
“From now on? Keep doing it?”
Yubin burst into a bright smile at Harok’s dumbfounded expression.
“You have to take responsibility until your beloved junior can write properly. Are you really going to leave a toddler who just learned to walk alone in a field?”
“Fine, fine.”
Yubin smiled happily.
“But are you sure this article will actually get published?”
“Department Head Lee Munhong is furious.”
“Why is he furious?”
“He knows the Gyeongyang Daily article was your story that got killed three years ago.”
Oh?
What’s gotten into Lee Munhong?
Apparently, he had somehow remembered the whole thing.
Three years ago, when Harok’s exclusive on Kwon Jaegwan was buried, it had been the kind of incident that should have enraged any journalist.
But at the time, the union chairman had come from the advertising department, so the whole thing had been quietly brushed aside.
Daehan Daily’s reporters later reflected on that and formed a broad consensus that the union chairman needed to be a reporter again, like before.
“Anyway, I’m glad the article can run.”
“Not so glad for Kwon Jaegwan.”
The next morning.
“Hey! Get your ass over here right now!”
Kwon Jaegwan exploded the moment he saw the morning edition of Daehan Daily.
The lead story on the social affairs page carried the headline:
[Handong’s Kwon Jaegwan Escapes Hospital at Night for Drinking Spree]
Mun Byeonggeol was already on his way to the hospital.
There had been no major new developments as of the previous night.
But once again, they had played games with the edition changes.
The online article had also been held until four in the morning so rival outlets wouldn’t have time to follow it immediately.
“Director Kim, where are you?”
“I’m in a meeting.”
“What is there to meet about? Go stop the evening papers first. Send everyone out.”
“Understood.”
What kind of grudge did we have in a previous life...?
Last time, Mun Byeonggeol had asked Editor-in-Chief Kim Yeonghwan to transfer not only Harok but Seol Yubin too.
The failure to remove Yubin had snowballed into this disaster.
And the more he thought about the reporting style and the article itself, the more convinced he became.
This was not Seol Yubin’s work.
It had Baek Harok written all over it.
When Mun Byeonggeol entered the hospital room, it was already a mess, as though Kwon Jaegwan had thrown another fit.
Executives, including Legal Team Head Song Guk, stood with their heads lowered like criminals.
“Hey, Executive Director Mun.”
The moment Kwon Jaegwan saw him, his expression turned vicious.
“Yes, Vice President.”
“What are you going to do?”
“We’re doing everything we can to stop the story from spreading.”
Right then, a news report about Kwon Jaegwan happened to be airing on television.
“Handong Group owner-family member and Vice President Kwon Jaegwan has been accused of secretly leaving the hospital where he was supposedly receiving treatment for a chronic condition and going out drinking... In particular, suspicions have emerged that Vice President Kwon illegally used an ambulance to avoid public attention. Reporter Lee Minseok has the story.”
“Vice President Kwon Jaegwan was admitted to Handong Medical Center on the seventh under the pretext of receiving treatment for a chronic illness...”
Cold sweat ran down Mun Byeonggeol’s back.
Bang!
Unable to control his temper, Kwon Jaegwan hurled the remote at the wall-mounted television.
The corner of the monitor cracked, and a thick black band appeared across the screen.
Song Guk hurried over and turned the television off.
After raging for a while longer, Kwon Jaegwan finally seemed to calm down and leaned back against the hospital bed.
“All right. Looks like stopping the spread is already impossible. So what now?”
Mun Byeonggeol used every bit of his brain to construct a scenario.
“First, there’s no excuse for the ambulance. We should express regret over that.”
“And?”
Mun Byeonggeol had warned him over and over not to wander around at night.
It was hard enough covering for someone when the person being covered for refused to cooperate.
“As for going to the bar, we’ll say you were attending a farewell gathering for a close acquaintance who will soon be leaving the country. We’ll say it was both that person’s birthday party and farewell party, so your attendance was unavoidable.”
Even a three-year-old wouldn’t believe such an absurd story.
But apparently it sounded plausible to Kwon Jaegwan.
“You think that’ll make things a little better?”
Of course it wouldn’t.
But they had no choice except to use whatever excuse they could find.
At this point, calming Kwon Jaegwan’s rage was more urgent for Mun Byeonggeol than dealing with the media.
“For now, we need to use something like that to stop additional coverage.”
“We’ll warn every media outlet that if they write that the vice president went to a club and drank alcohol, we’ll sue.”
Legal Team Head Song Guk joined in from the side.
Mun Byeonggeol found the sight annoying.
He had worked himself to death preparing the entire meal, and now Song Guk wanted to show up and stick his spoon into it?
“In the current situation, threatening the media with lawsuits doesn’t seem particularly wise.”
Mun Byeonggeol immediately tore Song Guk’s suggestion apart.
The press was already worked into a frenzy competing for exclusives.
Threaten them with lawsuits now?
There was a line from some movie.
Hey, we might not have money, but at least we have pride.
If any organization lived on pride, it was the press.
The media landscape had changed and legacy outlets were declining, which made revenue more important than before.
But plenty of older journalists still clung fiercely to their pride and caused trouble whenever anyone challenged them.
If Handong Group poked the media carelessly, they might end up losing far more than they gained.
But then—
“Team Head Song is right. Tell them that if they simply rewrite Daehan Daily’s article, they should be prepared for a lawsuit.”
We’re screwed.
“Senior.”
“Yeah. Why are you in the office instead of out on your beat?”
“I’m on inside duty today.”
“You seem to have inside duty a lot lately.”
While speaking, Yubin peeked at Harok’s computer screen.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking whether you’re actually working properly after moving to Culture.”
“What?”
“Haven’t you gotten your first exclusive yet?”
“I’ve written drama reviews and things like that.”
“The crown jewel of the Popular Culture Team has to be direct interviews with K-pop stars, doesn’t it?”
“I’m working on it.”
Harok gave a vague answer because he didn’t really have a good one.
“So what do you think will happen to Kwon Jaegwan? I heard Handong Group went into total chaos after the ‘hospital escape drinking show’ article came out this morning.”
“You’re talking like someone else wrote the article.”
“Hehehe. Pretending to look at your own story objectively makes you sound cooler.”
Harok jerked his chin toward the television.
KTN, the cable news network, was airing a whole package of stories about Kwon Jaegwan.
“...Accordingly, police stated that they plan to summon Vice President Kwon in the near future and question him regarding allegations including drug use.”
“He’s really trapped now.”
“Considering how pissed the police probably are, plus public sentiment, I don’t think they’ll have much room to let him slide this time.”
“I really hope so.”
