Chapter 177: Kergel (4)

A day had passed. Just 24 hours. But it had been a day full of talk and trouble.

To cut to the chase, Lee Taebaek had been appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Resistance. It was an appointment met with more dissatisfaction than approval, but since the former Commander-in-Chief had been so hardline, it was practically an unavoidable outcome.

Even after the decision was finalized, more than half the battalion commanders kept up their complaints. On the flip side, it was astonishing that nearly half had supported Lee Taebaek. And among them, the most unexpected was none other than 8th Battalion Commander Doctor Pepper.

Pepper had declared his support the moment he heard the three reasons the former Commander-in-Chief had chosen Lee Taebaek. He publicly pledged the entire 8th Battalion’s allegiance to the new commander’s banner.

Pepper was a man who judged people harshly. Partly due to his gifted background, but it was just his nature. The character was designed that way.

“…Honestly, it rubs me the wrong way. If it weren’t for that Sugar Water bastard, the backlash would’ve been huge.”

Kang Hyeonseong muttered as he rolled two walnuts in his fist. Tang Jihye nodded in agreement, arms crossed, just tilting her head.

“The guy we expected the most opposition from stepped up. That swung the undecided fence-sitters right over.”

It was already public knowledge that the 9th and 3rd Battalions had ties to Lee Taebaek. In fact, the freshly appointed Commander-in-Chief had leaned on them heavily right away, calling them in for advice just a day into the job.

And so this meeting had been arranged. It was essentially an emergency countermeasures committee. Any organization forms these with the leader’s closest allies. Call it favoritism if you want, but in business terms, it’s “the line.”

In other words, Tang Jihye and Kang Hyeonseong had ridden the right line early on.

“Jihye, aren’t you being too nice about Sugar Water?”

“Ugh, you fool.”

Tang Jihye recoiled in disgust, furrowing her brow as she scolded Kang Hyeonseong.

“That’s why the 9th Battalion has such a shitty reputation—because you let personal feelings cloud your judgment. I hate Pepper just as much as anyone. But sometimes, you could stand to learn from his example.”

“Me? Learn from him? Why the hell would I?”

“Just do it. Separate work from personal grudges. Look at Sugar Water. That guy supports a 9th Battalion grunt like you, no matter what the other commanders think.”

“Urgh…”

“Be grateful when it’s due. Give credit where it’s due. Stubbornness only gets worse with age. What, a three-knot punk fresh in the front seat thinks his ears are blocked?”

Tang Jihye clicked her tongue. A cinnamon-colored cross mark appeared on Kang Hyeonseong’s temple. He’d been scratched—scratched good.

“And you? A kid who just shed her trainee tag mouthing off to someone ten years older? No manners for your elders?”

“Hey, mister. You gotta act like an adult to get treated like one. Face value’s one thing, but inside you’re Peter Pan. Ha! The nerve to talk about being grown-up.”

“Hey, you little—!”

The bickering escalated into a full tussle. Lee Taebaek chuckled dryly. Ha, damn. Already exhausting.

For the record, this was the Commander’s Office. The nerve center of the organization, where gravity should reign.

Yet Kang Hyeonseong and Tang Jihye had claimed opposite ends of the sofa and were catfighting. It didn’t look like their first rodeo. The leather was worn in spots now that he noticed.

‘Former Commander-in-Chief… what kind of life did you even live…?’

Irritation surged on the other hand. No matter how he looked at it, this was a setup to dump the mess on him. He couldn’t shake the thought.

He wanted to grab the guy and chew him out for sticking him with this. But the bastard had slipped away in the blink of an eye.

‘Something about a business trip for a smoother handover.’

And the handover target was right here. Just fancy words to save face. The footwork was elite. Killing intent detection on point.

“Haa…”

A sigh slipped out unbidden, cutting the commotion short. He looked up to see Hyeonseong and Jihye glaring at each other, still tangled up. It was like a comedy movie paused mid-scene. Lee Taebaek snorted.

“……”

“……”

Soon enough, they slowly released each other’s collars and slunk back to their seats, looking sheepish. Lee Taebaek drawled indifferently.

“What. Why stop now.”

“Haha… You’re the one with the biggest headache, Taebaek. We got carried away. Sorry, sorry.”

Why was this guy’s character acting up? The sudden shift made him suspicious, but he could guess the reason.

Lee Taebaek’s support base was thin. Put bluntly, pathetic. These two were it.

Pepper had voted with the former commander’s decision. He hadn’t stated his personal stance on Lee Taebaek.

It was a grim reality. And now his two key allies were brawling like kids. His face burned just thinking about how cold-blooded he’d gotten.

But Tang Jihye didn’t care about that. The Tang Clan lady needed resolutions on the spot to feel satisfied.

“What’re you saying. You got carried away solo—we had nothing to do with it. Even if your head’s on a swivel, speak straight.”

“Ha, this punk. Why so cocky? Hey, Tang Jihye. Think one good line makes you untouchable?”

“Yeah. Untouchable. And since when does the Resistance have lines? One-Man Thousand Kill Kang Hyeonseong’s turned into a slimy politician now, huh.”

Kang Hyeonseong bristled. No helping it.

“Enough.”

He dialed up the edge a notch.

“If you’re gonna fight, take it outside—not in the Commander’s Office. If you can’t accept my decisions, I’ll hear you out with some show of force. In the end, this city runs on proof and results.”

“…Taebaek.”

“I won’t nitpick names. No armband flexing either. But Hyeonseong.”

Lee Taebaek met Kang Hyeonseong’s eyes.

“Not by choice, but the second I sat here, too many lives hang on my word.”

Then to the other side.

“Jihye, you’re a battalion commander—you know this pressure. But me? First time.”

Even in his past life, he’d never shed the assistant manager tag. Failed promotions one after another. Performance issues, was it?

Seo Team Leader had spilled that he’d siphoned dev budget for marketing booze-ups. Blood had boiled in reverse.

Anyway.

“…So my head’s a mess. Harmony is nice, but I guess my heart’s too small to vibe with the mood.”

“T-Taebaek, you? Narrow-minded? Nah. Our bad. Right, Jihye?”

“…Creepy…”

“This bitch really!”

“Ah, shit! Fine, my bad!”

Lee Taebaek sighed and stood. As he trudged toward the door, they asked in unison.

“Where to?”

He half-turned.

“Out for some air. Red Hare needs oiling anyway. You two make up here. …Not holding my breath.”

With that, the Commander’s Office door shut. They stared at it, then blinked at each other.

“We go too far?”

“You, not we.”

“……”

Daesung Group’s Chairwoman Ryu was inherently a beauty. Her perpetual scowl had just hidden it. Walking on thin ice daily would do that. Comfort bred its own problems.

“Oh my, what brings you? So nice to see you.”

But worries melted from her eyes when Lee Taebaek showed up. They brightened, her hidden charm shining through.

“Got business.”

“Always straight to it. Never even empty flattery.”

She pouted petulantly.

“Can’t waste the Daesung Group chairwoman’s time. Better for both if I cut to the chase, no?”

“Maybe? I could spare time for personal chats with you.”

“……”

Wasn’t this her default—timid, worn-down 20-something office drone A? Worn away by worldly woes.

People didn’t flip to exuding class overnight. Kang Hyeonseong too—it gave him chills. Waves behind lift the front, sure, but this was abrupt.

“Don’t glare just ’cause I teased. You look scary when you do.”

“Not glaring. Face just froze.”

“Fine, fine. Hang on. Grabbing my laptop.”

“Laptop for what.”

She tilted her head instead.

“What do you think? Gotta write the report.”

“Haven’t even heard the pitch. Presuming my ask?”

His question must’ve been cute. A soft smile spread on her lips.

“Your requests? I’d approve them outright if I could. That’s my personal take. But for budgets, we need formal reports. Only way to push board approval.”

She returned, flipped open the laptop, fingers flying. Text rained across her curved glasses.

“Megacorp chairwoman could ram it through. Got that pull.”

“I do. Did. But the coup had noise. We papered it over, but suspicion lingers.”

She adjusted her glasses. They glinted sharply.

“Two ways to handle it.”

First, purge the plotters.

“Cleanest short-term.”

“Shortsighted, yeah. Crowd psychology doesn’t bend to one-dimensional fixes.”

History proved fear politics’ limits. Instant results, but long-term? Organization crumbles.

Companies were human hives. Loyalty and trust endured, shallow or not. Fear was farthest from both.

“My takeover pitch was a new path from the old chairwoman. Going tyrant now? Lose my backers too.”

“Wise call.”

“Oh? Coming from you? Feels great. I’m weak to praise from you.”

Ignoring the shameless flirt, he pressed on bluntly.

“Second way?”

“At least pretend to respect the board. They know it’s fake. But unlike some…”

Thorns in the words. Eyes front.

“Gestures matter to them. Chairwoman sees them. That’s key. Silly, but leaders play nice. Preservationists.”

“…You know your stuff.”

“Years as old chairwoman’s secretary. Dad was exec too. Sick of them. There—done.”

She hit enter briskly, swiveling the screen his way.

“Write.”

Huh? What?

“Practice time. Your writing.”

“You… knew?”

How’d intel leak? Resistance lived on secrecy. Megacorp ears that sharp?

“You were Daesung once. Perks.”

She flashed pretty crescent moons with her eyes.

“Or call it private tutoring from a fellow throne-snatcher. Whatever floats your boat.”