The office was empty.
Cho Seoyoung was fiddling with something.
It was a card printed with a photo of her younger self.
Looking at it brought back memories.
Cho Seoyoung, the single-minded prosecutor.
Her nickname had been born from taking on corruption in both the prosecution and the government.
The path had not been smooth.
She endured contemptuous gazes from senior and junior prosecutors alike, as well as from political figures.
Those stares often turned into real threats.
“Dear! It’s chaos right now! The police have stormed our house and are taking everything!”
Her home was raided.
Charges of leaking secrets, bribery, embezzlement, breach of trust, and abuse of authority—more than ten accusations were pinned on her.
Is there anyone who, when thoroughly investigated, is completely spotless?
Rare, but they do exist.
So they targeted Cho Seoyoung’s family as well.
“Tax evasion and luxury collection… the Cho Seoyoung family’s path of tax evasion.”
“‘Black money’ flow discovered in niece’s account… Double standards of the hypocritical prosecutor.”
“Cho Seoyoung, the single-minded prosecutor, embroiled in controversy over halting a conglomerate investigation five years ago.”
Articles poured out.
It was all expected.
There was no way she could remain unscathed after challenging both the prosecution and the government.
Even her own party had tried to dissuade her, warning that going too far would lead to complete ruin.
That it would become unbearable.
Despite knowing all this, Cho Seoyoung didn’t stop.
Neither the oppression she faced,
Nor the disdain and attacks from colleagues,
Nor the public’s scorn
Burned hotter than the fire within her.
But now, that fire was gone.
All that remained was the ashes of what once burned.
Then Kang Jioo appeared.
And he swept away the ashes, blowing gently to revive a tiny ember.
“Standing in front of the public as a child must have been terrifying. Yet he found courage…”
A child who seemed barely in the lower grades of elementary school.
Despite relentless negativity, he hadn’t abandoned his campaign.
He stood strong in the presidential debate, facing his opponents head-on.
Not only that, he moved everyone’s hearts.
“Teacher… this is for you.”
Right after the debate, Kang Jiu handed her something.
It was a card printed with a photo of her younger self.
[Thank You Card]
“Cho Seoyoung Dae-Pho! Thank you for saying so many good things today!”
The handwriting, clumsy and crooked, read “Dae-Pho” instead of “Dae-Pyo” (representative), making her chuckle.
“Right. There was a time when I was fiery and bold like a cannonball.”
But now…
Ashamed of herself, she couldn’t finish the thought.
Knock, knock.
Someone knocked on the office door.
“Representative, it’s Jang Sori.”
“Come in.”
It was Jang Sori, a young political aide about 20 years younger than Cho Seoyoung.
“Did you get what I asked for?”
“Yes, I did, but…”
“Then sit down.”
The office was soon filled with the savory smell of chicken.
Jang Sori had brought chicken, and Cho Seoyoung pulled soju out of the fridge.
She poured soju into a paper cup.
“Soju’s okay, right?”
“Representative, you can’t drink during the presidential campaign.”
“Oh, come on, just one glass.”
“Let’s go with zero-calorie cola instead.”
“I can’t win against you, Jang Sori.”
In the end, she gave up on the soju and poured cola instead.
There was a reason she was called Jang Sori today.
“You must have a lot of pent-up frustration with me, don’t you?”
“Not at all.”
“Don’t lie. I yell at you all the time, ignoring everything you say. You must’ve wanted to punch me.”
“Haha…”
“Say what you couldn’t before. Right here, right now.”
“Alright.”
Jang Sori didn’t hesitate for a moment, despite the sudden change in mood.
Perhaps it was the fire burning inside her—
A fire reminiscent of Cho Seoyoung’s own in her youth.
“The overemphasis on external image is a major issue. Of course, image matters, but your approach is outdated. To win over moderates, you need to abandon these old methods…”
‘She’s hitting all the right points.’
Jang Sori’s words felt like arrows piercing her heart.
Being in pain means there’s a deeper meaning behind the words.
“Thank you for speaking honestly.”
“I’m just doing my job.”
“Doing one’s job is a lot harder than it sounds.”
Doing your best in your position—while it seems obvious—is not an easy task.
“I’ve never said this to anyone before, but sometimes, I’m just so scared. The way people point fingers at me, the way they drift away from me…”
Cho Seoyoung once did her best in her position.
As a result, she gained popularity but had to endure harsh criticism and immense pain.
“That’s probably why I kept making bad decisions. Even so, I thought it was fine. I’ve achieved so much already, I don’t need to keep fighting or breaking myself anymore. I thought I deserved all of this. But then that kid came along and tore me apart.”
Kang Jiwoo.
Her politics are innovative.
Not just new, but sharp.
She pierces the hearts of politicians stuck in complacency.
Why am I standing here?
Why did I start in politics, and why can’t I let it go even now?
Kang Jiwoo’s politics posed these questions to Cho Seoyoung.
Now it was Cho Seoyoung’s turn to answer.
“Chief Jang.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you so much for staying by my side.”
The people who hold their ground.
The people who quietly do their work.
Even when they are applauded, they don’t know how to take credit.
This world is moved by such people.
I wanted to create a world that comforts people like them.
“Starting tomorrow, I want you to serve as the Director of Strategic Planning.”
“Me, Director of Strategic Planning?”
It was a position already held by a senior member of parliament.
If Jang Sori were placed in that position, it would be an extraordinary and bold move.
“Let’s start from scratch and completely overhaul everything.”
Cho Seoyoung’s campaign was on the brink of transformation.
—
Cho Seoyoung, candidate of the New Breeze Democratic Party, is leading with 31.5%, though this marks a 2 percentage point decline.
Yoo Hangcheol of the People’s Republican Party is in second place with 26.4%, experiencing a significant drop of over 5 percentage points.
Kang Jiwoo of the Future Marriage Ginkgo Korea Party is at 22.4%, showing a significant rise in approval ratings! The gap with the second-place candidate is now just 4 percentage points!
The approval ratings skyrocketed.
22.4%.
Only a 4-percentage-point gap with Yoo Hangcheol.
The even crazier fact was…
“The current figures don’t even fully reflect the public opinion after the TV debate! Considering that…”
“The ratings will rise even more! We might even overtake Yoo Hangcheol!”
“Amazing!”
Could I really surpass Yoo Hangcheol?
Unbelievable.
It was incredible, the only way to describe it.
“Ha ha ha! Our Jiwoo did it! You did it!”
“Kyahhh!”
Park Seokji lifted me up in the air.
He tossed me up several times, laughing brightly.
“I heard the ad-lib about the sundae soup granny? This is sheer political genius! Absolute genius!”
“Heheh…!”
I couldn’t stop laughing as Park Seokji played around with me.
The party members surrounding us clapped, which added to the good mood.
“Our Jiwoo is the best! Is there anything you want to eat? Grandpa will buy it for you!”
“Oh my, Representative Park! You might hurt yourself!”
“It’s fine~”
Park Seokji continued to play with me for quite a while.
“Wow! Congratulations on breaking the 20% mark!”
At that moment, a party member appeared.
It was someone I hadn’t seen in ages, despite us working in the same headquarters.
“I guess all my hard work campaigning in the provinces paid off! Hahaha…!”
The atmosphere cooled.
It was no surprise—after all, the one speaking was Representative Kim Shinbae, who had previously advocated for merging the campaigns.
“Oh, our adorable leader! Congratulations! You’re so precious, I should give you a kiss!”
“Eek…!”
Kim Shinbae approached.
I quickly hid behind Park Seokji.
What a lunatic.
I could understand wanting to associate with a rising candidate, but suddenly offering a kiss? Was he out of his mind?
“Representative Kim, why is the Chief of Staff roaming around the provinces instead of attending meetings?”
Park Seokji shot back.
Kim Shinbae chuckled, feigning nonchalance.
“Come on, roaming around? How could you say such a thing? I’ve been working tirelessly to clean up messes.”
“Your mouth keeps running… So, what brings you here?”
“Well, I’m an integral part of the campaign, aren’t I? There’s a ritual to pay respects to our ancestors, so of course, I had to be here.”
Today, the party was holding a traditional ritual.
They had prepared offerings like a pig’s head, rice cakes, liquor, and fruit to pray for a smooth election campaign.
It was supposed to have taken place a day before the campaign began.
However, due to various delays, coupled with my TS syndrome, it had completely slipped my mind.
I was going to let it slide, but elder Park Seokji insisted that it was better to do it, even if it was late, and pushed ahead with it.
Kim Shinbae inspected the table and clicked his tongue.
“If we’re going to do it, shouldn’t we use a real pig’s head? Do you think the ancestors will lend their help with just a picture displayed on a tablet?”
“Kim, you really don’t know anything, do you? Who still uses an actual pig’s head? This is how it’s done nowadays.”
“Still, this is a bit…”
“There’s fruit and dried pollack here. What more do you need? Stop complaining and just pour the offering of liquor.”
Kim Shinbae placed the liquor on the table.
He was the last one to go. Everyone bowed.
“Good work, everyone. Let’s clean up quickly and head back to the office.”
The atmosphere suggested the ritual was wrapping up nicely. That is, until Kim Shinbae went ahead and ruined it.
“By the way, don’t you think it’s about time to decide on a ministerial post?”
Ministerial post?
Oh, dear.
Kim, you’re drinking kimchi soup without even getting the rice.
Drinking kimchi soup is one thing.
But he seems to have lost all sense of discretion too.
“At the very least, I think we should secure at least three positions for the Ginkgo Party, including myself.”
It was a strategy to shove himself into the front row by any means necessary.
From Kim Shinbae’s perspective, he must have been feeling the pressure.
Judging by the situation, it didn’t seem like winning was an empty dream anymore.
And if he did win, his neglected party duties might come back to haunt him and threaten his position.
Kim Shinbae glanced at me sideways, then smirked.
“When you think about it, this is a loss for me too. If we can’t guarantee this much, the morale of the party members will drop significantly…”
What a gentle way to say, “If I don’t get a position, I’ll cause internal trouble.”
Now he was outright making threats.
The gazes from the party members were sharp enough to pierce.
This was a time when unity was crucial.
But with Kim Shinbae constantly sowing discord, dissatisfaction was bound to pile up.
To put it bluntly, if he were a political heavyweight, it might be understandable.
If elder Park Seokji was a snakehead in a pond, Kim Shinbae was no more than a frog.
In other words—
“Hey, Kim Shinbae!”
Park Seokji, the master of playing strong against the weak.
Kim Shinbae was just his prey.
“Do I need to beat some sense into you?!”
“Representative Park! What’s with the harsh words…?”
Kim Shinbae was left speechless because Park Seokji had grabbed a weapon.
It was the dried pollack from the ritual table.
“Stay right there! Are you stopping or not?!”
“Eek!”
Kim Shinbae stumbled backward, flustered, as Park Seokji charged at him with the dried pollack swinging in the air.
I muttered quietly to myself, “Grandpa Pollack… go win…”