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33.42% Genius Grandson of the Loan Shark King / Chapter 234: Chapter 234: Don’t Say Anymore!

Kapitel 234: Chapter 234: Don’t Say Anymore!

I remember the major events, but I couldn't quite grasp who Bush really was.

What I needed now was information about this Bush. I asked Han Gyeong-yeong about his staff, and I was able to gather ample answers.

I also shared with Han Gyeong-yeong, who was supposed to meet Bush with me, some details about the peace agreement between North Korea and the U.S.

"So…"

Perhaps it was too shocking; Han Gyeong-yeong struggled to articulate, suddenly gulping down a drink in front of him.

After downing his glass in an instant, he locked eyes with me.

"So you're saying you want to act as Kim Jong-il's special envoy?"

To be exact, I'm delegated with full authority, but it wasn't wrong, so I nodded.

"Ha…"

Han Gyeong-yeong sighed heavily, a look of concern creeping onto his face.

"Do you even realize how significant this is? You're from South Korea, after all."

"It just kind of happened. The urgency in asking for a special envoy was apparent. Plus, I received some help. I figured I should return the favor."

Even with my explanation, Han Gyeong-yeong still bore an unsatisfied expression.

"There are plenty of alternatives. How about investing in North Korea instead? We're good at that. Why keep meddling in politics, Mu-hyeok?"

His concerns held some weight. I knew that when businessmen warranted political matters, the outcomes rarely fared well. But to show my determination, I spoke firmly.

"Brother, even if we live in a world where most things can be resolved with money, the existence of laws remains unchanged. Those in power can't escape being oppressed."

Right here in our country, the turmoil from the IMF made it possible to seize the president by the collar.

But if South Korea were a dictatorship and Kim Hak-gwon were the dictator? It might have been impossible for me to establish a foothold here just like I am now.

"Mu-hyeok, you've already acquired enough wealth. What more do you seek?"

"Don't overthink it. This is about keeping a promise. It's also a chance to repay what my grandfather gave me at the end of his life."

Ultimately, once I mentioned my grandfather, he ceased his opposition.

Though his expression remained troubled, he pointed the way forward.

"I can't be sure about Bush, but if his aides hear this proposal, they'll definitely oppose it. It's much more favorable for them to leave a common enemy in East Asia rather than reconcile with North Korea. It's easier to maintain a mutual check than for the U.S. to oversee East Asia."

His opinion didn't stray far from my own thoughts, so I nodded lightly.

From their standpoint, it was far more profitable to leave North Korea as an enemy while maintaining tension in East Asia than to reconcile.

I mulled over Han Gyeong-yeong's words, which implied that any nation opposing the U.S. would not shy away from war.

"Still, you have to at least give it a try. Well, if it doesn't work out, I've got alternative plans, so it's all good."

"I wouldn't know. You'll manage well, I'm sure."

Nodding, Han Gyeong-yeong filled both our glasses to the brim.

"You take care of the inner circle like Dick Cheney. I'll have a chat with Bush one-on-one. In the end, Bush will consult his aides, but I need to grasp his thoughts accurately, without any interference."

Han Gyeong-yeong downed his drink, still serious as he rubbed his jaw lazily.

"Understood. I'll do that. Thinking about it, Eric might be better suited to handle them than I am. How about taking Eric along?"

"You want me to bring Eric along?"

"Eric's a former soldier. With his background, he should get along well with someone like Dick Cheney, who's also a neoconservative."

That made sense. With similar dispositions, he would naturally be more lenient towards Eric's stance.

Thinking about it, Eric might find it easier to communicate with Dick Cheney than Han Gyeong-yeong.

"Alright, let's do that. Just keep me updated later."

"Got it. By the way, how will you lead the conversation? Does Kim Jong-il really plan to give up his nuclear program? That's the only way for negotiations with the U.S. to happen."

He is sharp-witted. I pulled my drink slightly away from my lips and replied.

"He seems willing to give it up. I didn't realize, but the situation around Kim Jong-il is more complex than I thought. What we know doesn't cover everything."

"What? He's really giving up nuclear arms? Did he actually say that?"

Han Gyeong-yeong asked, genuinely surprised.

The thought that North Korea might be willing to relinquish its only weapon capable of threatening other nations left me in utter disbelief when I first heard it.

"Yeah. Surprising, right? I was shocked when I first heard it too."

"I never expected that. But they've already drafted the Geneva Accords. Will the U.S. really be satisfied with a similar agreement?"

North Korea had already frozen its nuclear program due to the Geneva Accords negotiated in 1994.

They received promises to assist in replacing the light-water reactors, but the construction had progressed terribly.

That was likely why the hardliners within North Korea were so restless.

Fully abandoning nuclear arms held a different significance. If this negotiation failed, Kim Jong-il would be compelled to resume nuclear testing as he did in the past.

"He said he's willing to yield nuclear arms in exchange for regime recognition and economic support."

"Sounds like they're in quite a rush. So what was your impression of North Korea? Did it seem urgent?"

"I really can't say. I only viewed Pyongyang. Beyond that, it could be hell for all I know."

As we shared drinks and conversations, the night deepened.

Having a drink with Han Gyeong-yeong after such a long time proved tremendously helpful in charting the course I needed to progress.

A few days had passed since arriving in Washington.

― Boss…

After several days of intensive treatment, Eva finally emerged from her panic.

Her voice was weak, as if drained of energy.

"Are you okay?"

― I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Boss.

"Withdraw from Japan immediately. The rest can be handled by Chairman Kim of Jungwoo."

To erase Eva's trauma, I compelled her to eliminate the source of her torment myself.

Yet that experience remained etched in her, refusing to fade. It seemed to have solidified into an even greater terror.

― No. It was my task. I want to finish it myself. Please, Boss.

"Are you sure? Your voice still shakes. You don't have to force yourself. You've done more than enough, Eva."

― I've improved a lot. Really.

Her voice came across the receiver, still trembling softly.

But the words that followed were resolute.

― I ask for your trust. I want to finish this.

"…Alright. But until we find out who attacked you, don't leave the Russian embassy. This isn't just a request; it's an order."

Silence followed for a moment. Soon, a weak laugh accompanied her response.

― Got it. Don't worry too much.

"Anyone even slightly involved will pay the price. Even if it's the Japanese government, they won't be exempt."

― I don't believe it was the Japanese government.

There was a strange certainty in Eva's voice. Feeling puzzled, I asked.

"Eva, why do you think that?"

― They know that the benefits of eliminating me far outweigh the liabilities they would incur by killing me.

Of course, Eva wasn't wrong. The Japanese government had no need to take such a risky move at such a crucial stage in negotiations.

Furthermore, if the Japanese government had truly been involved, it wouldn't have ended like this.

So then, who could it be? The questions loomed large in my mind.

Just then, I heard a knock on the door and checked my wristwatch.

"Eva, take it easy. I'll get back in touch once my schedule is done here."

― Okay, Boss. I'll be waiting.

It was time to meet with Bush, so I stood from the sofa and ended the call.

As I opened the door, Manager Ma and the security team filled the hallway.

"Let's go."

We left the hotel and set off for the building where Bush's presidential transition team was located.

"Boss Han and Eric have already left."

Nodding at Manager Ma's report, I glanced out the window, absorbing the rapidly changing scenery as I gathered my thoughts.

Eva, Japan, Il-sung, Bush. All sorts off terms jumbled in my brain.

Soon, the car halted in front of the building housing Bush's transition team.

Manager Ma and the security team exited first to converse with the Secret Service surrounding the building.

After a moment, Manager Ma returned to my limousine and opened the car door.

"Eric and Boss Han arrived earlier and have entered already."

As I stepped out of the car to enter the building, the Secret Service stopped me.

"We'll need to search you for a moment."

Knowing it was a necessary procedure to gain entry, I nodded obediently.

After thoroughly inspecting every inch of my body, the agents confirmed everything was clear and stepped aside, letting me through.

Finally, I could enter the building. With Manager Ma, I took the elevator to Bush's office on the top floor.

As the elevator doors opened, Eric and Han Gyeong-yeong were waiting for me.

"Boss, you've arrived."

Eric greeted first, and Han Gyeong-yeong nodded subtly.

I smiled gently at their considerate gestures in front of others.

"When did you both arrive?"

"It seems like about an hour ago. Let's head inside for now."

It hadn't been an hour of conversation, but hearing that they waited for me made me frown slightly.

Following Eric's lead, we traversed the corridor lined with security personnel.

Upon entering through the door the security guards opened, I spotted two men seated on the sofa. They shifted their conversation to me as soon as I appeared.

"Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld."

Their faces were familiar from the countless media portrayals I had seen.

Seeing two of the trio that had led the U.S. for eight years with Bush made me feel oddly nostalgic.

Even as I entered, Cheney and Rumsfeld remained seated. Their gazes held the characteristic arrogance of those who deemed others beneath them.

I stood still, meeting their eyes without flinching.

In a short yet tense exchange of glances, I broke the silence first.

"They're quite rude. It seems unnecessary to meet at all. I'll just be leaving."

"What?"

Eric's voice was stunned, but I turned my back on him.

Manager Ma swiftly grasped my intentions and opened the closed office door.

Without a hint of hesitation, I stepped outside the office.

Ignoring the guarded glances from the Secret Service, I strode confidently toward the elevator.

Han Gyeong-yeong and Eric followed behind, turning to glance back at Cheney and Rumsfeld before hurrying after me.

"Are you alright?"

Han Gyeong-yeong asked softly in Korean, but I didn't reply.

Manager Ma pressed the elevator button, waiting for it to rise from the ground floor.

"If we turn back now, we might never meet Bush again. Are you sure? This act would be throwing millions of dollars into the void, you know?"

"Don't say anymore!"

The rigidity of my face and my cold words silenced Han Gyeong-yeong.

I understood he spoke out of frustration, but now wasn't the time for thorough explanations. The atmosphere felt off, and Eric stood silently with a tense face.

The elevator arrived, and the doors slid open.

Once we all boarded, the elevator door began to close slowly.

"Stop!"

In that instant, Rumsfeld dashed out of the office, shouting.

At his shout, a security agent standing beside the elevator held it open.

The closing doors parted slowly, revealing Rumsfeld's bewildered face moving closer.

"Charlie, you know that by doing this, it's essentially severing our ties, right?"

Instead of answering, I crossed my arms and stared at him. His silent gaze seemed to agitate Rumsfeld, who let out a deep sigh.

"Ha…"

Rumsfeld's heavy sigh made me nod towards Eric who was standing behind me.

"Eric, I think we should step out now. Wait here and sort out the situation."

"Yes, Boss."

Bowing his head, Eric left the elevator.

His expression was fiercely determined. Eric stepped towards Rumsfeld first.

"Rumsfeld, why the rudeness? Our Boss has undoubtedly been your largest political donor. This was before Bush garnered any attention from Wall Street."

"Eric, you know full well that we've acted somewhat rudely, but the president-elect is waiting. To turn back now would be…"

Before Rumsfeld could finish, Eric interrupted.

"I understand. But the Boss has made a decision, and we will follow it. So please, cease the incivility. Otherwise, our good relationship with Black Bear and the U.S. military ends here."

"Are you threatening me right now?"

"Does my statement sound threatening? Don't forget who's willing to spill blood for the U.S. military."

Eric's tone was chillingly cold. Even Rumsfeld seemed momentarily taken aback, struggling to respond.

"Enough. Let's stop this pointless standoff."

Suddenly, a voice broke through the thick silence in the hallway. The owner of that voice was Bush, striding over from behind Rumsfeld.

"So you're Charlie?"

Bush approached, looking me up and down.


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