Chapter 40

Chapter 40. Attack the Messenger (3)

The next day.

When Yubin heard about Choi Hyewon’s press conference, she headed straight to the venue.

She wanted to hear for herself what exactly Choi had to say.

The press conference was being held in the Grand Ballroom of L Hotel in central Seoul.

Could an individual really afford to rent a place this expensive?

Even if the women’s organization supposedly supporting Choi Hyewon had arranged it, a YMCA hall or something similar would have been more realistic.

Handong Group didn’t seem particularly interested in hiding the fact that it was backing the press conference.

By the time Yubin arrived, the Grand Ballroom was packed with reporters.

It was obvious how hard Handong Group’s PR team had worked the phones.

Just as Yubin was about to enter, Choi Minjung stepped in front of her.

“Reporter Seol. Why are you here?”

Yubin was dumbfounded.

They had invited reporters to a press conference, and now he was asking why a reporter had come?

“I’m here to cover the press conference.”

“You don’t need to cover this.”

“According to who?”

Choi Minjung struggled for an answer.

Officially, this event was being hosted by a women’s organization supporting Choi Hyewon.

Handong Group’s PR office had no legitimate reason to stop her.

“Chu Jiyeong is already here for Daehan Daily.”

“This is a press conference about sexual harassment. Why is an Industry reporter covering it?”

“W-Well...”

“Move. Unless you want this to turn into a scene.”

Choi Minjung flinched under Yubin’s sharp stare.

Then—

“Why are you here?”

It was Chu Jiyeong.

The moment she appeared, Choi Minjung looked as though reinforcements had arrived.

“Senior, why is someone from Industry covering this?”

The much younger reporter fired back without showing the slightest hesitation.

“This concerns a former Handong Group employee, so...”

“She left Handong Construction quite a while ago. I guess that means Handong Group really is behind this press conference.”

Choi Minjung had been counting on Chu Jiyeong, only to watch Yubin verbally crush her.

“N-No, Reporter Seol. We’re only here because a former employee suffered something unfair and we wanted to understand the situation.”

“I’m sure.”

Yubin shoved past Choi Minjung and entered the press conference hall.

He couldn’t stop her.

Neither could Chu Jiyeong.

The press conference began shortly after Yubin took her seat.

There wasn’t much new in the content.

Most of it was nearly identical to what Choi Hyewon had reported to the company grievance committee at the time.

The only major addition was the claim that Ahn Changwan had used his influence heavily during the internal handling process.

“...After I filed the report, Executive Director Ahn continuously pressured and persuaded me to withdraw it. The other team members also sided with Executive Director Ahn. I understand that, as employees, they may have found it difficult to oppose their direct superior. But the betrayal by my colleagues became a lifelong trauma for me.”

Clack-clack-clack-clack.

Flash, flash.

Every sentence Choi Hyewon spoke was met by the sound of keyboards and exploding camera flashes.

Eventually, she finished reading her statement, and the Q&A began.

“Why are you raising the issue again now?”

“Why didn’t you report it to the police?”

“Wasn’t the company’s handling also problematic?”

The questions continued almost as if they had been scripted in advance.

Choi Hyewon answered the prepared ones herself.

Whenever a difficult question came up, a spokesperson from the women’s organization answered instead.

Yubin kept raising her hand, but they refused to call on her.

Finally, when the prepared questions had nearly run out, she was the only reporter with her hand still raised.

The organizers could no longer ignore her.

“The female reporter over there.”

“I’m Seol Yubin from Daehan Daily.”

Yubin stood.

“You said earlier that you plan to sue Executive Director Ahn and seek damages. Are you taking no action against the company?”

At the mention of the company, Choi Minjung’s expression immediately hardened.

Director Kim Hyeongseok, sitting beside him, also darkened.

“If what Ms. Choi Hyewon says is true, then the HR director who closed the case without charges, the coworkers who gave unfavorable testimony, and ultimately the company itself would also appear to bear responsibility.”

Choi Hyewon looked slightly flustered and turned toward the lawyer from the women’s organization beside her.

After receiving a whispered explanation, she brought the microphone back to her mouth.

“We plan to address that later.”

“One more question—”

As Choi Hyewon’s side hurried to wrap things up, Yubin requested a follow-up.

“You’re aware that Handong Construction and Executive Director Ahn currently have a hostile relationship, correct? Did Handong Construction persuade you in any way to revive this old allegation?”

“No. ...The victim is having a difficult time right now. We’ll end the press conference here.”

The lawyer answered on her behalf and quickly left the stage.

Yubin immediately got up and hurried after Joo Rihye, the head of Haeoreum, the women’s organization that had hosted the event.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?”

Joo Rihye looked as though she wanted to avoid her.

“I’m busy right now...”

“It’ll only take a moment.”

“Go ahead.”

“How did Haeoreum first learn about Ms. Choi Hyewon’s situation?”

Joo Rihye looked slightly flustered.

“Th-The victim contacted us, of course.”

“Looking at the original incident, there seem to have been fairly clear circumstances behind the conclusion that the accusation was unfounded.”

“That’s why we’re saying the result was manipulated.”

“Then why did she remain silent at the time?”

“Reporter, you’re a woman too. How can you say something like that?”

What does being a woman have to do with this?

The question was whether she had actually been victimized.

“Gender aside, this is a criminal matter. If a crime happened, the offender should be punished.”

“The police will deal with that.”

Joo Rihye turned away as if she had nothing more to say.

“One last question.”

“What is it?”

“Renting the Grand Ballroom at L Hotel must have been extremely expensive. Did Haeoreum pay for it directly?”

Even wedding rentals here could cost more than one hundred million won.

That was an enormous amount for a small civic organization that largely survived on government subsidies.

“O-Of course.”

“Could I see the expenditure records?”

“Why should we show you that?”

“There are Handong Group PR staff here, and most of the reporters attending are industry-beat reporters.”

“So?”

Joo Rihye apparently wasn’t the type who could lie to her own conscience very well.

Once cornered, her eyebrows twitched slightly, and her speech became clipped and stiff.

“I was wondering whether Handong Group paid the venue fee for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Should I ask the hotel?”

The hotel had no obligation to tell her.

But Yubin guessed Joo Rihye wouldn’t know that level of detail, so she simply threw the question out.

“...I don’t know.”

Joo Rihye hurried away.

Yubin became convinced that Handong Group had paid the venue fee too.

If they had more time, they probably would have disguised the arrangement somehow.

But they had been in such a rush that they hadn’t had time to handle every detail.

Yubin immediately called Harok and reported everything.

Harok was officially a culture reporter.

Yet neither of them found this strange anymore.

On this investigation, Harok was still effectively Yubin’s first-line senior.

“Put it up as an internal intelligence report first, then write a Reporter’s Notebook column or something.”

A Reporter’s Notebook was essentially a journalist’s personal column.

It allowed a reporter to mix personal observation and judgment into what they had seen and heard in the field.

Reporters often used the format when they wanted to sharply criticize wrongdoing.

“Okay.”

“But you said Senior Chu Jiyeong was there?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t tell me Industry is planning to write about this.”

For now, Daehan Daily was taking the side of Ahn Changwan.

In principle, the media should remain neutral and report news impartially.

But the world didn’t really work that way.

Every newspaper had its own editorial line and position.

If a story conflicted with that line, or contradicted reporting already done by the company, it was often deliberately ignored.

Under normal circumstances, Daehan Daily should have pretended Choi Hyewon’s press conference didn’t exist.

But they had sent an Industry reporter.

And not some first- or second-year rookie.

An eight-year veteran.

That meant they intended to write something.

Social Affairs attacks them while Industry speaks for them.

What a well-run company. Tsk.

“If they weren’t going to write it, they wouldn’t have sent someone as senior as Chu Jiyeong.”

“Talk to your Chief first. No matter how dysfunctional the company is, the message we send outside still needs to be consistent.”

“Okay.”

Articles about Choi Hyewon were already appearing online one after another.

Every one of them represented the position of Choi Hyewon, the person holding the press conference.

“Report this internally right away. I’ll call Executive Director Mun.”

“Okay.”

“Executive Director Mun?”

“Well, if it isn’t Reporter Baek Harok. What brings you to call me?”

His voice sounded unusually cheerful.

Apparently, the recent counterattack was working well enough to put him in a good mood.

“Your company is hanging by a thread, but you sound like something good happened.”

“Of course not.”

“Do you feel no guilt at all about destroying someone who worked with you for years?”

“Are you recording this?”

“You know me. I’m old-fashioned. I don’t do things like that. And don’t worry, I have no intention of turning this conversation into an article.”

Harok always kept promises like that with sources.

Keeping off-the-record agreements was an important virtue for a reporter.

Breaking one might produce a single scoop.

But in the long run, the reporter’s credibility collapsed and sources began avoiding them.

“You’re part of an organization too, Reporter Baek.”

“I am.”

“Organizations have their own logic. We have our difficulties too.”

“So that justifies destroying someone who gave more than thirty years of his life to the company?”

“If he had stayed quiet from the beginning, none of this would’ve happened. If he truly loved the company, he never should’ve given that interview to Daehan Daily.”

Harok was dumbfounded.

Mun Byeonggeol was a salaried employee too.

Yet he was talking as though he had personally transformed into the owner.

“How many people can stay quiet when they’re being blamed for something they didn’t do?”

“He could’ve handled it quietly. For example, he could’ve contacted us privately.”

“That aside, bringing up a sexual harassment allegation that was already cleared is going too far.”

“My philosophy is simple. Once a war begins, throw every available resource into it and win first.”

“Did you ever think about how humiliating this would be for his children?”

“He brought it on himself.”

Phewww.

A man so thoroughly brainwashed by the logic of capital that he was practically a zombie.

Spend the rest of your life as a servant.

“So, to win this war, you rented out that expensive Grand Ballroom too?”

“What?”

“Just so you know in advance, this will probably become an article by tomorrow.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

A veteran denial tactic.

His acting was so polished that he could have won a Best Actor award.

“You know Seol Yubin went to the press conference, right?”

“We weren’t involved in the press conference...”

“Stop denying everything. Yubin met Senior Choi Minjung there.”

“Ah, well, Ms. Choi Hyewon was still once our employee. We thought we should provide some support because she suffered something so difficult.”

“So you provided convenience?”

“That’s right.”

What company went this far for a former employee?

“Anyway, Handong Group must still have plenty of money despite how difficult things are. Paying more than a hundred million won for a ballroom without blinking...”

“I never said we paid the rental fee.”

“That’s easy enough to check with the hotel or the civic organization.”

There was a brief silence, as though Harok had caught him off guard.

“You didn’t think anyone would verify that part, did you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Keep denying it if you want. I’ll just tell you one final thing.”

“I always take Reporter Baek’s valuable advice deeply to heart.”

Does this bastard think I’m joking?

He was still acting relaxed.

“You know the phrase too much is as bad as too little, right?”

“Yes.”

“In my view, this entire situation is a textbook case of overdoing it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your response was excessive from the very beginning.”

He was referring to the single phrase second- and third-generation chaebol heirs that had appeared in the celebrity-focused drug article.

Trying to erase that one line had started the snowball.

Mun Byeonggeol had regretted that decision ever since.

Every day, he blamed himself for reacting too early.

A momentary misjudgment that one small sentence might later become dangerous had blown the entire situation open.

“Well, that was...”

“And your response to Executive Director Ahn is the same. You overdid it.”

“Did we?”

“The snowball is still rolling.”

It was a warning.

Mun Byeonggeol knew Baek Harok’s reporting ability too well not to feel nervous.

But they were already riding the tiger’s back.

There was no getting off now.

“So hold your breath and wait for the final credits.”

Let’s see just how big that snowball becomes.