I Became a Scoundrel of a Chaebol Family-Chapter 277

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Out of courtesy for the dead, the AV was only used to travel between Muyeol Land and Incheon Port.

For the trip to the City Council, I used a car, even though it was a bit inconvenient.

Of course, it wasn’t because I actually respected the dead or anything.

It was just one of those lingering traditions in politics and finance.

In such a bleak and ruthless world, this kind of courtesy had become more of a compulsion than anything.

The idea that the sky should be left open for the souls of the dead, while the living walk the ground—

that kind of superstition still had a grip on the ruling class,

even in the ultra-high-tech society of 2077.

It was pretty hilarious, honestly.

I arrived at the joint memorial altar in front of the City Council around 6:20 PM.

The site was already packed with figures from all walks of life.

As if timed perfectly, a cold winter drizzle began to fall.

It soaked the air, and the gray clouds hanging low made the mood even heavier.

Click.

Soo-ah opened the car door for me.

I stepped out onto the ground.

Secretaries holding black long umbrellas stepped slightly aside, and Chief of Protocol Seo Aram checked my appearance.

She straightened my coat collar and brushed off a bit of dust near my neck.

Meanwhile, the car drove off to park, and nearly a hundred people surrounded me like bodyguards.

“Why the hell is it raining now?”

I like rain in general, but not this kind of weak drizzle.

I’d rather get completely soaked.

Dozens of secretaries and security, dozens of assembly members,

and their assistants moved en masse with me, so I drew attention wherever I went.

People who recognized my face either panicked and bowed or instinctively stepped aside.

Even those who didn’t recognize me learned who I was through whispers and responded with a slight delay.

There were various kinds of reactions, but ultimately, the foundation of all of them was fear.

The madman chaebol heir who wiped out fifteen district mayors.

The madman who drowned an assemblyman in the ocean when he asked to go back.

And now—the madman who finally obliterated the ruling party’s leader, the Incheon Mayor, and ruling party assembly members.

To them, I was the underlying cause of death for every person honored at this memorial.

And that very person was walking into the altar like nothing happened.

It was chilling.

They probably saw me as a human disaster on par with Go Minji.

Of course, that was partially intentional on my part.

‘Those in power should be feared.’

“I-I didn’t expect you to come...”

A group approached.

It was the national and regional leaders of the Better Tomorrow Party, along with some senior members.

The party leader, much older than me, lowered himself dramatically.

“Of course I came. I’m involved in all this, in my own way. It would’ve been wrong not to show up.”

“....”

At the word “involved,” they swallowed nervously and fell silent.

“Still, I didn’t think our first meeting would be in a place like this.

I’d hoped to meet under more formal circumstances.”

“I-I’ll come visit you personally later.”

“I’d appreciate that.

Have you laid your flowers yet?”

“Y-yes. Ah! The altar is that way.”

The party leader stretched out an arm to indicate the direction.

His fingertips, touched by the falling rain, trembled slightly for some reason.

“Thank you.”

I gave a slight nod and walked past them.

The group stepped aside to give us room.

Soon, a civil servant appeared.

He bowed at nearly a full ninety degrees and guided us forward.

Click, click...

The deeper we went, the more crowded it became—

especially with journalists.

Everyone was busy snapping photos for political clout, signing guestbooks, and carrying out formalities.

But the moment I appeared, all that noise and movement froze and redirected toward me.

It felt like walking through a moment where time had stopped.

‘Come to think of it, this is probably my first appearance at a public event.’

During the Namdong Industrial Complex reclamation, I did knock out a district mayor on live broadcast,

but that was more of an “incident” than a public appearance.

So this could be considered my first real official showing in front of society.

Rustle.

I carefully placed a single white chrysanthemum and lit incense before bowing in silence.

In front of me was the portrait of Mayor Choi Cheol-kyu.

‘You should’ve listened.’

I offered a final word to the soul, then stepped back.

The assembly members who came with me also began laying flowers one by one.

“Smelling all this incense makes me wanna smoke...”

But I restrained myself—at least out of basic courtesy.

I’m pretty picky about smoking etiquette.

We’re lighting incense for the dead.

It would look ridiculous if the living were puffing smoke right next to it.

‘Next life, be born a good little obedient slave.’

++++

After laying the flowers, I left the memorial altar.

Along the way, some gutsy reporters tried to rush in with questions.

As expected, reporters were sharp.

They figured out the general reason and motive for my visit, and asked accordingly.

“With this incident triggering mayoral and district by-elections in over a hundred districts, how do you view this unprecedented political vacuum, and what do you think should be done about it?”

“There are rumors of your past feud with the late Mayor Choi Cheol-kyu, and alleged ties to the wave of mass defections from the ruling party. Are you considering entering politics yourself?”

“Many people were shocked and frightened by the overwhelming wave of mechas that filled the sky. As the grandson of the Koryo Group, do you have any comment on this?”

“With the death of the late mayor, the special prosecution was naturally dissolved. Do you have any thoughts regarding the numerous allegations of Mayor Choi Cheol-kyu's ethical and legal misconduct?”

I gave appropriate answers each time.

“I’m not a politician or a public official, so these aren't matters I can speak about directly.

However, I’ll make sure to share my thoughts with some of the lawmakers I’m close to.

Consider it advice from one concerned citizen.

I’ll do my best to think carefully and speak responsibly, so that this chaos is resolved swiftly and the lives of Incheon citizens are not affected.”

“I haven’t considered any political moves yet.

But given the situation, as the grandson of Koryo Group, I’ll do what I can to contribute to society in a positive way.”

“I’m not part of Militaris, but as family, I can say one thing:

whether it’s mechas, Knights, or any kind of Militaris force—

they all exist to protect the citizens and the people of this country.

It’s understandable that some may feel fear and shock,

but please remember—the enemy will feel far greater terror and panic.

Keep that in mind and rest easy.”

“I have no comment on the deceased’s unethical or illegal actions.

I’m not a legal expert, nor am I a political figure.

However—”

I had something to say to that last question.

I stopped walking.

Everyone around me froze in sync.

As I organized my thoughts, a reporter thrust their phone forward, eyes gleaming like they’d just landed a big scoop.

“But as someone who takes morality, law, and ethics very seriously,

I do feel some regret.

If the late mayor had been more ethical,

if he had respected the law—

he could have been a far greater role model to many more people.”

“A-are you confirming that the deceased had legal and ethical problems?!”

“Well. ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) I wouldn’t want to single out any individual.

However, I’ve long voiced opposition, as someone working in the entertainment industry,

against distorted sexual values, exploitative sexual favors, and inhumane contracts.

As someone who’s held firm to that stance, I can only say that I find the current state of Korean—and Incheon—politics to be disappointing.”

“Considering the controversy surrounding the deceased,

and the public backlash against unethical behavior by politicians and public figures—

could you comment on that?”

“Personally, I believe that anyone with legal infractions should step down from politics.

Even now, there are rules tied to party nominations,

but they fall far short of meeting public expectations.

If I were ever in a position to draft party regulations,

I would enforce an absolute ban on all criminal records—no exceptions.”

That’s the only way to make the Permanent Special Prosecutor Office effective—

from investigation to sentencing to total case closure.

You wouldn’t even need to go through the trouble of killing anyone.

Just one sentence:

‘You’re a criminal.’

And they’d be done.

Of course, it’d be best not to rely on internal party rules.

What we need is to write it into election law itself.

If we get that far, even the Special Prosecutor could rule like a dictator.

“No exceptions, you said?”

“Yes. No exceptions.

Whether it’s a suspended sentence or a fine,

any criminal conviction should result in absolute exclusion.

Honestly, I wish we could write that into law.

That’s what I believe political justice should look like.”

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