Episode 47: Sorry for Being Cute

Kang Jiwoo’s approval ratings kept rising.

The party members were ecstatic.

Han Seoyoung was also happy.

But at the same time, she was afraid.

“I have to do better…”

The primary reason for Kang Jiwoo’s soaring approval ratings was none other than Kang Jiwoo herself.

Her overwhelmingly destructive cuteness was the secret behind her popularity.

The next most significant contributor was Bong Soohee.

Bong Soohee’s output was unmatched by any other party member.

Without her, the candidate would have already been replaced by Park Seokji.

And compared to them, what about herself?

As Kang Jiwoo’s closest aide and de facto acting party leader in her role as Chief Secretary…?

“I’m not good enough.”

The external evaluations weren’t bad.

She was performing well in handling the immense responsibilities suddenly thrust upon her.

But it wasn’t enough to satisfy herself.

“Keeping the party running isn’t enough. I need to respond to the flood of negativity, stabilize the fractured atmosphere within the party, and support the candidate…”

Han Seoyoung gathered the opinions of party members.

She engaged in many conversations with Kang Jiwoo to understand her inner thoughts.

She synthesized all the information and made decisions.

Without realizing it, she had become the party’s ultimate decision-maker.

With authority came responsibility.

The weight of responsibility bore down on her chest.

It was a pressure far beyond anything she had felt when thrown into society after graduating from college.

“Did the senior always endure this kind of pressure?”

Kang Jiwoo, before her TS transformation, came to mind.

The “Pink Storm” had been so overwhelming that it overshadowed everything, but the original Kang Jiwoo had also been called a political whirlwind.

Taking over his work made her realize it.

“The senior was a monster…”

Not an ordinary human.

She had sensed it since their college days, but experiencing it firsthand made it all the more tangible.

“Sigh. If only I could ask for advice from the senior…”

She muttered and shook her head to clear her thoughts.

Dwelling on how hard it was would only make it harder.

Right now, she had to tackle the tasks before her.

“The negativity is the problem.”

Kang Jiwoo’s approval ratings were setting new records daily.

As much as the approval ratings rose, so did the intensity of the negativity.

Conspiracy theories spread, led by conservative YouTubers.

The claim was that Kang Jiwoo had not actually undergone TS.

They argued that the entire TS story was a fabrication.

“Conspiracy theories are fine. Only those who want to believe them will believe them anyway.”

The real problem was the doubts about the candidate’s qualifications.

“Entrusting the administration of the nation to an elementary schooler is a national disaster!”

“An epitome of incompetence, unable to do anything alone!”

“The worst political scandal in constitutional history!”

The claim was that Kang Jiwoo lacked the necessary abilities.

The most significant issue was the alleged lack of communication skills.

“They say her intelligence is that of a nine-year-old. She looks like she’d cry if criticized even a little. Can someone who can’t control their emotions communicate effectively?”

The presidency required strong communication skills.

In that sense, the communication handicap of a child was fatal.

“Above all, the president must exhibit political leadership. They need to lead both the ruling and opposition parties. Do you think the politicians in Yeouido or the lawmakers would follow an elementary schooler? This isn’t child’s play…”

All of these statements were from Gansina.

It was true that Gansina was annoying, attacking Kang Jiwoo 24/7.

She even resorted to extreme expressions just to get an article published.

But when it came to the arguments themselves, they weren’t entirely unreasonable.

“This is the issue that resonates most with the centrists. I have to break through it.”

Winning over the centrists was essential.

Without them, victory was impossible.

Thus, they had to prove Kang Jiwoo’s competence.

Or at least make it look like she was competent.

That was Han Seoyoung’s role.

There were several strategies in mind.

But none of them were groundbreaking.

“If the candidate could directly address the criticisms, there might be a chance to turn the tide. But there’s no way the candidate can handle this level of negativity, which is hard even for an adult…”

Approval ratings had risen.

But Kang Jiwoo’s party was still the underdog.

They were surrounded and pummeled by lawmakers from both the ruling and opposition parties.

As such, Han Seoyoung leaned toward a classic response.

“In the end, the best option is to fight fire with fire.”

Responding to negativity with negativity.

Kang Jiwoo’s party had fewer speakers and weaker impact.

Therefore, they had to raise the intensity of their statements.

To the point where Gansina’s remarks would seem mild in comparison.

This had already been decided in a meeting.

High-intensity negativity would start tomorrow.

But then…

“Is this really the best I can do?”

It felt uncomfortable, like a small thorn caught in her throat. 

Han Seoyoung mulled over it for a long time. 

Finally, she reached out to Bong Soohee.

Me: Bong Soohee.

Me: I need some advice.

As soon as she sent the message, she regretted it. 

Why did she contact Bong Soohee of all people?

“I can’t ask Representative Park for advice…”

Park Seokji was a veteran politician, practically a senior figure in their party. 

However, Kang Jiwoo, prior to TS, had explicitly warned against seeking his counsel.

“Representative Park has spent his entire career in the Republican Party. He’s a veteran in a greenhouse, so to speak.”

There were no hard feelings involved. 

It was simply that his tendencies didn’t seem likely to yield any useful advice.

Bong Soohee: One Java Chip Frappuccino.

Me: What?

Bong Soohee: Counseling fee.

Me: —

Me: I’ll get it for you tomorrow.

Bong Soohee: Send it now.

Bong Soohee: I’m at a café anyway.

“Unbelievable. Counseling fee? As if she’s a professional counselor…”

Grumbling, Han Seoyoung sent the payment.

Bong Soohee: So, who’s the person you like?

Me: What? Who said anything about that?

Me: I’m not asking for relationship advice!

It started playfully, but it couldn’t stay that way.

Han Seoyoung’s concerns were serious.

Me: It’s about countering negativity.

Me: It’s already been decided, but…

Me: I’m starting to think it’s the wrong approach.

Me: It feels like it’s destined to fail miserably…

Me: If it were Kang sunbae, she’d have made a different choice.

Bong Soohee: So?

Me: I think I should pause the negativity strategy and take another day and a half to think it over.

Me: But… is that okay?

Bong Soohee: You’re the one with the final say, aren’t you?

Me: True, but…

Me: What if delaying makes everything worse?

Me: What if my decisions lead to a devastating loss in the election?

Before TS, Kang Jiwoo had been a genius.

So was Bong Soohee.

No matter how much effort she put in, Han Seoyoung felt she could never match them. 

They had reached a realm beyond understanding, one that ordinary people couldn’t fathom.

But she was not like them.

She could only chase after their shadows.

Could someone as lacking as her really make such bold decisions?

The pressure made her stomach churn. 

She even felt the impulse to throw everything away and run.

Bong Soohee’s reply didn’t come for a long time. 

After five minutes, the notification disappeared, and a short answer arrived.

Bong Soohee: Just do it.

“…?”

The weight of her worries and the time spent waiting seemed far too disproportionate to the answer she received.

Me: That’s it?

Bong Soohee: Yep.

Me: Give me back my gift card.

Bong Soohee: Already used it.

“Argh…!”

Something inside her felt like it might explode.

She was taking this seriously. 

Why was Bong Soohee treating it so flippantly?

She felt resentful, as if she were the only one concerned about the party’s fate.

Sensing her frustration, Bong Soohee added,

Bong Soohee: Just trust your gut.

Me: Yeah, I know.

Me: And if I fail, it’s entirely on me.

Me: I’ll just take full responsibility

Me: …and quietly fade into obscurity.

Han Seoyoung knew the truth. 

There were no definitive answers.

She just wanted to hear something comforting.

Something like, “You can do it,” or “You’re not the only one to blame.”

Some warm, albeit useless, words of reassurance.

She simply wanted someone who could empathize with her.

But Bong Soohee wasn’t that kind of person.

Instead, she sent two photos.

They were images of Earth as seen from space.

Bong Soohee: The first Earth is where Kang Jiwoo wins because of you.

Bong Soohee: The second Earth is where Kang Jiwoo loses because of you.

“……”

Han Seoyoung scrutinized the two photos.

There was no difference between them.

After all, they were the exact same picture.

Bong Soohee: No matter who becomes president, from space, it’s all meaningless.

Me: ……

Me: That’s true.

Bong Soohee: Yup. So just go for it.

“Burp…”

Out of nowhere, I burped.

It felt like the heaviness I’d been carrying since lunch was finally lifting.

‘Fine. Let’s just do it.’

I made up my mind.

I decided to hold off on countermeasures for now. 

Instead, I resolved to come up with a new plan by tomorrow, even if it meant staying up all night.

Having made that decision, I felt a lot lighter.

I wanted to see Kang Jiwoo’s adorable face, so I stepped into the living room.

But then—

“Uuuuuuh…”

“…?”

Kang Jiwoo was crying, tears streaming down her face, holding a colored pencil in her hand.

“C-candidate! Why are you crying?!”

“I-I’m not crying…!”

Her face, desperately holding back tears, looked pitiful.

I hurried over and hugged her tightly.

And that’s when the floodgates opened.

“Huuuuuaaaaang…!”

“What on earth happened?”

“T-T-T-TV…!”

“TV? What about it?”

“They called me cute… but they were making fun of me…”

The news was on TV. 

It seemed like she had heard a negative remark from Kanshinah.

“I told you not to watch the news!”

“I-I wasn’t trying to! I was just watching… Heochuping… and… sniff…”

“Okay, okay. No more tears.”

“Sniff… O-okay… hnnng…!”

I kept patting her on the back.

Her eyes were still red, and she was hiccupping, but she seemed calmer now.

That’s when I noticed the drawing on the table.

“What’s this?”

“A… sorry card…”

“A sorry card?”

“Instead of a thank-you card… I drew a sorry card…”

Looking at it, it seemed to be meant for Kanshinah.

It was a drawing, likely of Kansina, alongside scribbled words:

I’m sorry for being cute.

I won’t be cute anymore…

For a moment, Han Seoyoung felt a lump in her throat.

“You don’t need to write a card! It’s not your fault; Kansina is the bad one! You don’t have to listen to what bad people say!”

I spoke more harshly than I intended, anger bubbling up inside me.

Even so, Kang Jiwoo replied calmly.

“But I’m a presidential candidate. I have to listen. That’s how I can become a good president…”

Kang Jiwoo was trying to face the negativity directed at her.

Her voice lacked confidence, but there was no hesitation.

‘Is she… growing?’

Maybe something was changing inside her.

But—

‘With that mentality, facing so much criticism is impossible.’

Kang Jiwoo was still delicate.

Wasn’t her crying earlier proof of that?

Facing constant criticism would only give her unbearable stress.

‘If she doesn’t feel the stress, then it’s solved, right?’

A flash of inspiration struck me.

We can’t make Kang Jiwoo smarter.

We can’t make her tougher.

So why don’t we make ourselves dumber and softer?

“Candidate, you’ll definitely become a great president. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Really…?”

“Yes. Just trust me and the party members.”

Han Seoyoung made a firm resolution.

For the soft, naive candidate Kang Jiwoo to win the presidency—

She would nerf the world itself.