The Little Prince in the Ossuary-Chapter 112 : Past (7), king

Past (7), king
Chairman Go Guncheol had finally gotten his hands on Paradise. It was a timely succession of well-prepared traps, and also a kind of capitalist magic, where just 1% of shares could change management rights.
During the divorce trial, paradise Group's heir denied the affair. But the evidence was overwhelming. Go Ah-young was a one-sided victim. The alimony ballooned astronomically. What's more, she was recognized as having contributed more to the formation of the wealth than her husband. That was because she was a member of the executive board of Hye-seong Group and, from the beginning, one of the major shareholders of Paradise Group.
The media covered the court's result in bold headlines. It's not unusual for the control of a corporation to change as a result of a chaebol family's divorce. But this time, they said, it was on a different level. Not just corporate governance, but the structure of power in the country had changed.
Now Go Ah-young became the manager of Paradise Group. But everyone knew. It was her father, chairman Go Guncheol, who was the true ruler.
Ah-young agreed with that view.
'That's right. In reality, it's just a nominal trust.'
Nominal trust. When the registered owner and the real owner of the property do not match. The shares in Paradise Group that Ah-young originally held were, on the surface, hers, but in reality, they belonged to Chairman Go Guncheol.
Typically, such arrangements are used as a shortcut for inheritance. But Chairman Go Guncheol was different. In the past, he had paid every last penny of the billions in gift taxes.
That was the fairness the tyrant pursued, and a move paving the way for the future.
And so, even today, he was furious.
"What the hell? Tax evasion? How much did you save? You son of a bitch! You dare try to steal my shares?!"
The Paradise Group's accountant had gone pale. It must have been an attempt at proving his ability to his new employer.
He ed: until now, paradise Group had various ways to reduce its taxes, and now, under Hye-seong Group's influence, even more efficient tax saving and evasion would be possible.
The tyrant roared at his executives.
"You listen too! Pay every tax you're supposed to pay! And if you can pay a tax, find it and pay it!"
After the gap filled with nothing but rage, another burst of anger followed.
"I am a fair merchant! I don't care what other robber worms do! The reason I pay taxes is so I have the right to demand more! More taxes! More rights! I pay the price! The nation must provide compensation accordingly! I am the major shareholder of this country!"
The accountant's attempt to steal shares had that meaning. The chairman's view of the state was an extension of running a business. He was someone who converted everything in this world into monetary value.
In the same vein, those who try to shirk paying taxes have no right to exercise their rights. That was why he was hostile to other managers. Those worm brats who were freeloaders.
A value system that seems fair at a glance.
But Ah-young sighed inwardly. Both the standards and the methods were absurd.
The tyrant demanded compensation he believed to be proper. That "proper" was by his own standard. He prioritized his version of business ethics over the law. That was why, at times, he traded what should not be traded.
'Like that boy's body.......'
Ah-young took in the sight of her furious father's youthful face. Then she compared it with the boy born in winter. The boy had never borne such an expression. He was someone else. Only that, from the same features before the negotiations, she could recall echoes of what once was.
What would happen to this country? With an old boy raging like that, occupying the throne.
Until now, the chairman had drawn his own lines. The rights he gained stopped at the price he paid. In that sense, he was a strict man.
But by taking Paradise Group, chairman Go Guncheol could now pay much more in taxes. Perhaps even more than half of the nation's budget. Now, what her father would demand, the daughter could hardly imagine. There would be no limit to his demands.
Long ago, when she was still immature. The father who hated his daughter denied everything the child learned at school.
"The people are an illusion. They're just savage pig-dogs."
He did not trust humans.
"Yeah, there are shares. Tiny, grain-sized shares. But even those meager shares are too good a necklace for those bastards. They spend it without insight or reflection...... They split into camps based on birthplace, generation, academic background, profession, and gender. When they criticize each other, it's never about sorting out right and wrong. They just latch onto each other's faults like dogs to turn it into their own vested interest. Busy to take someone else's rice bowl, busy to keep their own. If they can just keep their own, whether it's right or wrong doesn't matter."
He spoke again.
"In this shameless world, the answer is money. Everything has to be economic. Because you can't trust a contract that isn't economic."
Ah-young disliked her father's worldview, but indeed, that was what the world was really like.
The people of the world respected her father. The reason was simple: wealth. Paying a lot of taxes amounted to patriotism. All of his inhuman words and deeds were colored as pioneering business philosophy.
Ah-young sank into her thoughts. It was a meeting about the management of Paradise, but no one asked her opinion. A stand-in. A decoration. A shackled fate, never allowed to be the subject even once.
Thus, when the meeting ended and the chairman told her to stay behind, it was unexpected.
"What is it?"
To the daughter's question, her father replied.
"I'll keep your child for a while. When you get home, they'll already be gone, so just know that."
Ah-young froze. A chill with no substance seeped to her core. She stammered and asked again. The reason—why her child, why he took them. Her father spoke with ridicule.
"Even if the seat you're sitting in is nothing but a husk, if your thinking is shallow, it could get troublesome. Since you seem to be deluded into loving your child, for now it will be a useful safeguard."
Cold turned to heat. It swelled burning, pouring out through her lips. All that was left became tears. With shaking hands, she threw everything within reach. But none of it flew straight toward her father.
At the sight of his daughter exploding, the aged king was satisfied. Seemed the safeguard was well chosen.
#April Vengeance, Fort Roberts (1)
The days preparing for "Manifest Liberation" were monotonous. Repeated missions to secure advance routes and stockpile supplies.
Then, one day, an FBI agent came to see Gyeo-ul. The agent greeted the young officer with a crisp salute and a formal posture.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Joanna Gibson, supervisory Special Agent of the National Security Division, federal Bureau of Investigation."
Her visit was a surprise. Agent Gibson requested a private audience with the young officer from the brigade commander, and the arranged meeting room was fully isolated from outside contact. Why would the FBI be interested in Gyeo-ul? What did she want to say? Was he suspected of something?
With no background information, 「Perception」 would not activate.
He had never experienced a situation like this. For now, Gyeo-ul returned the greeting cautiously.
"Pleased to meet you, agent Gibson. May I call you that? Sorry, I don't exactly know what level Supervisory Special Agent is..."
"That's all right. Roughly equivalent to captain, but the FBI and the Army are totally separate organizations. Different roles and sizes. A one-to-one comparison doesn't make sense. In actual operational situations, I'd have oversight authority—but authority to supervise and to command are completely different concepts. So feel free to speak comfortably."
Her words were explicit and clear. Gyeo-ul responded with a question.
"Operational situation? Do you mean I'll be assigned to the same operation as you, agent Gibson?"
"Yes, that's correct. The CIA has requested that First Lieutenant Han Gyeo-ul be sent to them. Before we proceed further, could you sign this, please?"
With a businesslike smile, she handed over a document. A nondisclosure agreement, promising to keep mission details secret even after it ends. Gyeo-ul hesitated.
"Do I have the right to refuse?"
"No."
Her answer was clear, delivered without hesitation. She took out another document.
"Take a look at this. Deployment orders from the Department of Defense and the Containment Line Command."
It declared that First Lieutenant Han Gyeo-ul, attached to the 160th Regiment "7th California", was temporarily relieved from current duties and reassigned to support a different operation at the CIA's request. Gyeo-ul could even see Colonel Laughlin, the brigade task force commander's signature, on the order.
At that point, hesitation became meaningless. He, too, did not hesitate. Taking Gibson's pen, he neatly signed his name.
"Thank you for your cooperation."
As she gathered up the paperwork, Gyeo-ul asked another question.
"You said it's a CIA operation. Will you be participating as well, agent Gibson?"
"Oh, that's protocol. Domestic CIA operations must be supervised by the FBI. The operation is under CIA control, the Department of Defense is dispatching you to support it, and the FBI's role is to monitor for national interest or procedural issues."
Too many cooks spoil the broth. Perhaps sensing Gyeo-ul's worry by 「Perception」,
Joanna Gibson's smile grew even more transparent than before.
"Think of me as the car's brakes. I keep things from running wild. Normally, I don't intend to interfere with the operation itself. No need to be concerned."
"Can you explain the mission I'm to undertake?"
"Detailed information can only be delivered after you're on the transport plane..."
"How long until then?"
Pressed by Gyeo-ul, she paused, then offered some limited information.
"I suppose you're quite curious. I'll tell you everything I'm allowed to at this point. First, the duration is... uncertain. The CIA thinks it may last several months, at most."
"......"
"The operation itself began a while ago. For this particular phase, only First Lieutenant Han Gyeo-ul and I will deploy together, but there's already sufficient personnel at the site. The Agency just decided, for some reason, that they needed you."
If the mission had already started, there must have been a previous supervisor. Domestic operations call for FBI oversight. That a new supervisor was being sent meant, for one reason or another, the previous one could no longer serve.
'And they're taking me along... so they need combat ability.'
It seemed likely the previous supervisor had been killed in action. That proved the mission's danger.
After this brief explanation, agent Gibson told him the departure would be at 21:00.
"I've heard there are people you personally look after, first Lieutenant. You might wish to notify them: just that you've got a special assignment, and will be leaving for a while... that sort of thing."
"Thank you for your consideration."
"Then please come to the parade ground by 20:30. All preparations are finished, so just bring your personal gear. If you have no further questions, let's meet again then."
Any more questions would be pointless. Gyeo-ul nodded once and stood up.
From the moment Gibson had come to find him, Gyeo-ul had no other official duties. He was excused from Operations, so he immediately went to find his allies and deliver the news. Everyone was bewildered. The ones most anxious were the two heads of department, especially Min Wan-gi.
"This isn't good."
The middle-aged scholar let out a deep sigh.
"Until now, we managed to suppress various issues while the little leader was around—religion, factions, all of it. Everyone was cautious because of you. Same goes for relationships with other organizations. Frankly, it's quite a sensitive period..."
"There's no help for it. It's an order."
Gyeo-ul felt as if he was being forcibly separated from the flow of the story.
No matter how great you yourself become, you're swept away if the world moves against you.
--------------------------- Author's Postscript ---------------------------
#Editing
The story was forwarded again. For now, there will be no interference regarding brutality.
But about scenes aimed at punching holes in your stomachs... basically, the author's inner child—that is, scenes for mature audiences—will need to be completely cut.
That's another sad thing for the author. Personally, I thought I wrote those parts to be extremely off-putting...
#Q&A
Q. Gomsi-ju: @Editing, it should be faster now than when you first started writing, right?!
A. Not at all. It's actually much harder to fix parts I painstakingly wrote, than to write them in the first place.
Q. Oshin4: @Whatever, but could you sign my print edition, great eldritch being?
A. They say they'll print 1,500 copies in the first run, but there's no way I can sign all those. Hahaha. I'll probably just offer a few signed ones as prizes at an event...
Q. Geujipjjukumi: There's a typo~!! "Embed it deep into the socket" x "Embed it deep inside" o
A. rumen: It's not a typo. The eye socket is called an "anwa" in Korean.
Author: As rumen said, but if the word feels difficult... I'll consider just changing it to "eye socket."
Q. Klinen: @The Board still doesn't have enough childlike innocence, I guess. For such an innocent story, to criticize the depiction of violence—when over on webtoons they'll dismember a main character the next episode and still get serialized... may you never lose your childlike innocence as a great eldritch author.
A. The author's inner child ran dry long ago. Nowadays, I barely get by day to day. Tears are flowing...