After finishing his call with Muhyuk, Han Kyungyeong closed his eyes and organized his thoughts.
A mont later, he opened them again, pressed the bell, and summoned his secretary.
“Olivia. Cancel everything on my schedule. I need to attend a party on Wall Street.”
“Pardon? You an cancel all of your appointnts?”
Han Kyungyeong nodded and rose from his seat.
“Yes. Cancel everything. And Olivia, get ready to go to the party with .”
“Whew.... If you suddenly cancel like this, the other side will be uncomfortable. At least let give them a heads-up. Tell what’s going on.”
“Sothing more important ca up. Tell them we’ll reschedule later—and that we’ll compensate them with sothing else.”
“Sothing important?”
“Yes. I got a call from the boss.”
Only then did Olivia understand why Han Kyungyeong was canceling everything.
“Understood, boss. I’ll ask for their understanding and set up new appointnts.”
“Thanks, Olivia.”
“No problem. That’s what I’m paid for.”
Olivia flashed a bright smile, and Han Kyungyeong smiled back.
“Make the calls quickly, then let’s go buy so clothes. Tonight’s party only allows entry with a partner, so I’ll need a favor. I’ll pay you back by buying today’s outfit—plus a bonus.”
“Of course, boss.”
After Olivia left, Han Kyungyeong walked over to the window.
The sun had set, and darkness had settled in.
But Wall Street’s night never slept. Brilliant lights and constantly moving cars turned it into a city of light.
All kinds of human desires mixed together, filling New York.
Two hours later.
Han Kyungyeong attended President Bush’s campaign party together with Olivia.
At the fundraising party for President Bush—whose approval gap over the Democratic candidate was quite large—many guests had already arrived and were enjoying themselves.
A presidential campaign party gathers all kinds of people.
From ordinary citizens who support the candidate, to politicians and political operatives, and above all, the donors—the main reason the party exists.
Hollywood stars, singers, and other celebrities also attended in large numbers.
At these fundraising parties, they sotis gave speeches supporting the candidate or put on performances.
After surveying the banquet hall, Han Kyungyeong let out a whistle and made a fuss.
“This is the inner circle that moves Arica. No matter how many tis I co, I can’t get used to it. Don’t you think so, Olivia?”
“Boss, you should mind your conduct. You’re the face of Dreamhigh. Every single action you take reflects Dreamhigh’s class.”
“I can’t tell if I ca with my secretary or my mom. Don’t be so serious. They’re all familiar faces anyway—can’t I have a little fun? It’s a party.”
As Han Kyungyeong was grumbling, soone who recognized him approached.
“Jas.”
Only then did Han Kyungyeong stop teasing Olivia and turn toward the man calling him.
“Ah, Murdoch. Long ti no see.”
“Haha! It’s been a while.”
Han Kyungyeong smiled broadly and shook Murdoch’s hand.
“I heard you were in the UK. Did ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ you co back just for the party?”
Murdoch released Han Kyungyeong’s hand and nodded.
“Of course. We’ve always supported the Republican Party.”
Murdoch’s dia empire had always backed the Republicans.
In the United States, it was hardly unusual for dia figures to openly support one side.
Murdoch was especially known as a hard-line Republican supporter.
“This is the last fundraising party, isn’t it? I had to attend.”
Han Kyungyeong, well aware of Murdoch’s inclinations, simply smiled and nodded.
“That’s right.”
“I hear Dreamhigh donated the most. Massive contributions in both presidential elections.”
“It was the boss’s decision.”
“Well, if it’s Charlie, that sounds about right.”
At the ntion of Muhyuk’s decision, Murdoch readily accepted it, then glanced around and spoke in a lowered voice.
“Wall Street doesn’t like Republicans. You know that, right?”
Instead of answering, Han Kyungyeong gave a tiny nod—so small no one else would notice.
Wall Street investors generally leaned heavily toward the Democratic Party.
Normally, the wealthier people are, the more likely they are to support conservatives. Yet Wall Street—where the richest Aricans gathered—supported the Democrats.
Perhaps because of that, Democratic fundraising parties were more likely to attract Wall Street investors, while Republican ones rarely saw the real heavyweights.
But this presidential election was different.
“Doesn’t it strike you as funny too, Jas? Supporting the Democrats, yet coming here to a Republican candidate’s fundraiser and selling smiles.”
As Murdoch said, Wall Street’s big players had turned out in force at the Republican fundraiser.
They were smiling and chatting with people from President Bush’s camp.
In hundreds of years of Arican history, elections where one side held such overwhelming dominance were rare.
So even Wall Street, which leaned strongly Democratic, had no choice but to attend.
“What can you do? Arica, Britain, Korea—it’s all the sa. In any country, you have to stay close to those in power if you want to get anything, right?”
At Han Kyungyeong’s casual remark, Murdoch let out a snort.
Just then, a man stepped up onto the stage in the hall and tapped the microphone.
He was an ordinary citizen who had co to give a support speech.
“Hello, everyone! I’m honored to stand here today and support President Bush’s re-election.”
The speaker sounded as if he’d been handed a script in advance. For an ordinary supporter, his delivery was unusually smooth.
“For the past four years, President Bush has proven himself to be a strong and decisive leader who always puts the needs of the Arican people first. He made bold decisions to protect the United States from dostic and foreign threats, and he has worked tirelessly to create jobs, promote economic growth, and provide healthcare for all Aricans.”
It was a speech so predictable you could guess what was coming next.
Han Kyungyeong looked at Murdoch with an exasperated expression.
“I’ve heard it so many tis I’m sick of it.”
“Haha! Still, listen along.”
Murdoch replied casually while offering applause to the speaker.
Han Kyungyeong felt uneasy in this situation and swept his gaze around.
“Above all, what impressed most is President Bush’s unwavering commitnt to our military and their families. He understands the sacrifices our soldiers make every day to protect our nation, and he has done everything possible to support them—improving pay and benefits, providing the best training and equipnt, and ensuring top-level dical care when they return ho.”
As he was scanning the room, Han Kyungyeong spotted soone from the list Muhyuk had ntioned.
After excusing himself to Murdoch, he moved in that direction with Olivia.
“Finally, the most important reason I support President Bush today is his honesty and adherence to principle. Even when it’s unpopular or when circumstances turn against him, he speaks his mind and stands by what he believes.”
The supporter’s raised voice drifted over as background noise.
Leaving it behind, Han Kyungyeong greeted the man.
“Good evening. Chairman John Bogle.”
John Bogle, who had been listening to the speech, turned toward Han Kyungyeong.
Recognizing him instantly, he greeted him with exaggerated warmth.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Wall Street’s heretic! The king of investnt himself—Jas!”
“Haha. You flatter . It’s been a while.”
While Han Kyungyeong and John Bogle exchanged greetings, the speech was nearing its conclusion.
“In tis of hardship like these, we need a leader like President Bush. With courage, vision, and experience, he can guide us through the challenges ahead. I urge all of you to join in supporting President Bush’s re-election. Let’s build a stronger, safer, and more prosperous Arica together. Thank you.”
When the speech ended, Han Kyungyeong clapped chanically, while John Bogle applauded with genuine admiration.
Amid the whistles, cheers, and applause filling the hall, the two continued their conversation.
“What reason would we have to et?”
“Still, Chairman—you’re a living legend of Wall Street. Because people like you were here, soone like could build a foundation to invest the way I do.”
“Haha! I’m grateful a young investor thinks so highly of .”
John Bogle laughed heartily, clearly pleased by Han Kyungyeong’s respect.
“By the way, how is your health? I heard that after a heart transplant, you need lifelong managent.”
It wasn’t idle chatter—it was genuine concern.
Han Kyungyeong truly respected John Bogle as an investor.
John Bogle was the founder of the Vanguard Group. He had joined Wellington Managent as an investnt manager and risen all the way to CEO—an iconic figure.
But even monkeys fall from trees.
During his tenure as CEO, Wellington Managent failed a make-or-break rger.
Taking responsibility, he stepped down and went on to found the Vanguard Group.
After founding Vanguard, he imdiately created the first index fund—the “Vanguard 500”—and gathered investors.
Wall Street mocked and ridiculed him.
Yet John Bogle endured it all and eventually turned Vanguard into one of Wall Street’s foremost asset managent firms.
“My heart? It feels like I’ve been given a new life. Fortunately, there haven’t been any serious side effects.”
John Bogle smiled, touching his left chest.
After the transplant, he handed the CEO position to John Brennan and stepped back as honorary chairman.
But if he chose to, he was still soone who could move the Vanguard Group.
John Bogle was Vanguard, and Vanguard was John Bogle.
That was why Han Kyungyeong sought out John Bogle rather than the current CEO, John Brennan.
“So, what brings Wall Street’s heretic to treat with such warmth? Is there sothing you want?”
“It sounds like I’m talking to you because I want sothing. That hurts, Chairman. I’m just paying my respects now—not as a heretic, but as a mber of Wall Street greeting soone I admire.”
Han Kyungyeong joked lightly, but John Bogle studied him with a smiling face.
A sharp gaze brushed past him, but Han Kyungyeong only maintained his good-natured smile.
He had no intention of rushing things.
Move too fast, and trouble was guaranteed. He needed to enter their inner circle slowly.
Those who ran mutual funds were different from Wall Street investnt bankers.
They prioritized the interests of the shareholders who entrusted them with money above all else.
“May I greet you like this from ti to ti?”
At Han Kyungyeong’s question, John Bogle nodded.
“If you don’t mind an old man like , you’re welco anyti.”
Han Kyungyeong offered his business card first. John Bogle accepted it and handed over his own.
After that, Han Kyungyeong continued moving through the party, eting the heads of asset managent firms that held shares in Chevron.
* * *
Michael contacted the day before I entered North Korea.
With his return ho only a day away, Michael ca to see .
The mont we t again, Michael bowed his head deeply.
“I’m sorry. I was rude back then.”
Seeing an Arican bow like that was a first for .
Watching him apologize stiffly, I gestured for him to sit.
“That apology will suffice. Now sit.”
Over the past few days, he had been gathering information on what kind of person I was.
I’d already been inford of that through the people I had placed on him.
“Do you now know how to deal with ?”
“Just as you said then—I was told that what you require is neither threats nor pleas, but a deal.”
“Correct. I prioritize deals. One-sided dependence benefits neither party.”
Michael nodded in agreent.
“You’re right. I want to be involved in the exploration and developnt of Block 7. No—I need the achievent of having secured it. If I’m going to expand my influence within Chevron.”
“Now you’re finally speaking honestly. Very well. I understand what you want. So tell —what can you give in return?”
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