Her words settled into the room—not with the earlier sharpness of questioning, but with a softer tone, almost like she was reminiscing.
It was as if Boojin was stepping back into memories she had walked through long ago, memories that had shaped the path leading her to where she stood now.
True, she had gained what she want when she pushed back against the powerful grip of the chaebol network, but she had also lost just as much—things like her freedom, and the dream of a family she could truly call her own.
As she spoke, her mind began to drift back to her younger days.
She remembered being a teenager full of hope, chasing after freedom and dreams.
But what she found instead was the hard truth—cold, unbending, and already carved out for her the moment she was born into the Samseong family.
With that name came expectations, not freedom. In a family like theirs, daughters weren't raised to lead—they were raised to be bargaining chips. Tools for alliances, trades made in the name of the "greater good."
Unless you were chosen as a successor, your life wasn't truly your own.
The school she attended, the people she was allowed to see, even the kind of future she was permitted to imagine—it had all been decided for her, long before she ever had a say.
When she became old enough to understand the truth, Boojin saw the invisible web that controlled every part of her life.
She knew she couldn't win against it, but still, she resisted in her own way.
Her first act of defiance came when she rejected the marriage that had been arranged for her.
She had been set to marry Kim Jaeyeol, the son of a powerful politician, it was a strategic move to tighten the family's ties to Korea politics.
But Boojin said no.
Instead, she made her relationship with her bodyguard, Im Donghyun, public. He had been by her side since she was a teenager, and while outsiders painted the story as a romantic tale of true love triumphing over social barriers, the truth was far from it.
She didn't love Donghyun—not in the way people thought.
Even their glamorous wedding had been nothing more than a performance.
She married him because it was the only way she could fight back.
He was easy to manage. He didn't come from power. He had no political ties, no strong family backing.
Compared to the politician's son, Donghyun posed no threat to her.
And in Boojin's eyes, that was exactly what made him the perfect shield.
Her marriage was a strategic rebellion, a calculated risk to assert some control over her life.
But the family didn't take her defiance lightly.
The consequences came swiftly.
Boojin lost control over most of her shares in Samseong, leaving her with only Hotel Shilla as her dowry.
Even then, she was only given 3.3% of the hotel ownership, the real control of the hotel business remained firmly in the hands of Samseong C&T, which held a 19.3% stake through a circular ownership structure.
Things only got worse after that.
When she refused the family's demand to cut ties with her so-called husband, they punished her even more.
The man she was originally supposed to marry, Kim Jaeyeol, who is now a prominent figure in Korean politics, was married to her sister Lee Seohyun a year after her own marriage.
It was a clear message. The family was cutting off Boojin's political connections and taking away any chance she had to become the next successor of Samseong.
This drove a deeper wedge between Boojin and the rest of the family.
But that was her way of standing her ground. And she never regretted it.
It was all she could do, unless she had the courage like Jihoon, who chose to sell everything tied to the family and walk away for good. But at that time, she wasn't ready to take that step.
Even so, she stood her ground. Her role in the family may have weakened, and her siblings might have walked away with more shares and greater influence, but she had no regrets.
With less power came less attention. Like Jihoon, she learned how to survive in the background—quiet, but free in her own way.
And she wasn't done resisting. She still had plans. She was still cooking up something.
Shaking off the distant thoughts clouding her mind, Boojin returned her gaze to Jihoon and spoke with a measured calmness.
"I know you're up to something," she said, her voice steady but curious. "Although I haven't quite figured out what it is yet, but I'll be honest with you—" she leaned forward slightly, "—I'm working on something too."
Jihoon tilted his head slightly, still calm on the outside, but inwardly, curiosity stirred, because his aunt Boojin wasn't the type to say anything without a reason.
"And not just me," she went on. "People like us—people that in families like ours—we're all planning things. Especially this year."
She paused, letting her words linger in the air before she asked, "Do you even know what year this is, Jihoon?"
He didn't answer. His expression didn't change, but a slight flicker in his eyes betrayed that he was listening closely.
"It's the time when the presidency changes it's hands." she continued.
That hit home more than Jihoon let on.
He already knew what she was getting at. In his previous life, he'd seen it unfold—the consequences, the aftermath.
But before he could fully align the present with his memories, Boojin pressed forward, her words cutting through his thoughts like a blade.
"I know you've been trying to stay out of all this," she said, her tone sharpening, "but if you think staying outside the circle keeps you safe—you're just being too naive."
Jihoon opened his mouth slightly, but Boojin didn't give him the chance.
"You think just because you're staying neutral, you'll be safe?" Boojin asked, leaning back in her seat with a long sigh. "That's not how this works, Jihoon-ah."
Jihoon didn't respond right away. He just looked at her, his expression unreadable.
"This is Korea," she continued, her tone quieter now, but no less serious.
"People like you—those who don't belong to any group—are always the first ones to get tossed aside when things get messy. Especially now, when every side is sharpening their knives."
She let the words linger in the room, watching his reaction.
"You think being distant means you're invisible. But in times like these, if you're not standing with someone, they assume you're standing in their way."
Jihoon slowly leaned back, folding his arms. "So what are you saying, Imo? That I should pick a side just to survive?"
Boojin's eyes didn't flinch. "I'm saying... if you're not useful to someone powerful, you're dispensable. That's how this country works and that's how everything has always worked."
There was a pause, before she changed course slightly. Her voice softened, almost reflective.
"Do you remember all the noise President Roh Moo-hyun made during his time in office?"
Jihoon gave a vague nod, but she wasn't really expecting an answer.
"He was a good man. He did a lot for this country—helped the economy, pushed for reforms, tried to redistribute power so that ordinary people could benefit and all... But don't forget, that came at the expense of the chaebols' interests."
Her gaze dropped briefly to the floor before returning to Jihoon.
"And changes like that… always comes at a cost."
She leaned forward again, her voice lowering.
"He touched the wrong nerves. Tried to cut into the chaebol's share. Tried to pull their hands off the steering wheel they've had for generations—including ours."
Jihoon frowned slightly. He could feel where this was going.
"And now?" Boojin said with a bitter smile. "Now that he's no longer in office, you can guess what they're already planning."
Jihoon stayed quiet, but his eyes sharpened.
"When someone like him threatens the system that feeds the elite…" she paused, her smile fading into something colder, "they don't just push back."
A beat.
"They erase him."
Jihoon sat silently, his hands resting on his knees, listening. Observing. Internally, he was already drawing connections to what he remembered from his past life—how it all spiraled once President Lee Myungbak took office.
"His successor," Boojin said, confirming Jihoon's thoughts, "is one of them."
"And the first thing President Lee will do when he took office is to cut Roh to pieces. Throw him in jail. Shred every policy he made. Undo every reform. Until everything is restored to serve the chaebols again."
She reached for her coffee and took a slow sip, giving both of them a moment to breathe.
Jihoon remained still, calm, thoughtful. But Boojin wasn't fooled by his surface composure. To her, he was still too young, too idealistic. Smart, yes—but not hardened. Not yet.
She sighed lightly, studying him.
"Your plan to stay neutral," she said after a pause, "it's not clever. It's reckless. You're practically waving a flag that says, 'Use me.' In this country, neutrality is weakness."
What she didn't know was that Jihoon had already taken that into account. She wasn't wrong, not entirely. But the wall he intended to build… it wouldn't just deflect the attacks. It would control how the pieces moved.
Still, Boojin's words hit home. She was right about one thing: he wasn't strong enough yet. Not in the political sphere.
After a long moment of silence, Boojin glanced at Jihoon again, her expression softening.
"So," she said gently, folding her hands on her lap, "do you understand what I mean now?"
Jihoon looked at her, but his thoughts were already spinning elsewhere. Her words had triggered something in him—something deeper than just understanding.
He nodded slowly, replying with a quiet, "Yeah…"
To anyone watching, it might've seemed like he was simply agreeing, taking her message to heart. But inside, Jihoon's mind had already moved several steps ahead.
He wasn't just processing her warning—he was already crafting a response.
A response to the weekness of his now.
Even though it had only been minutes since she began speaking, Jihoon had already laid out the rough shape of a plan.
Boojin's message was clear: power didn't always rest in money or talent—it often bowed to politics.
And in South Korea, he knew all too well how swiftly the prosecutors could act, how fragile a person's position became once politics started interfering.
No matter how clean your hands were, you could be taken down in an instant.
He had seen it before. Lived it.
From his previous life, Jihoon remembered exactly what would happen in the next few years.
The impeachment threats, the behind-the-scenes power plays, and ultimately... the downfall of President Roh Moohyun.
A man who had genuinely tried to change things in Korea, a really good man, good leader.
Roh wasn't perfect, but he had fought to give ordinary people more power, to shift the balance away from the entrenched elite and chaebol families.
He pushed for reforms—real ones—and challenged the very foundation of Korea's old-guard political and business structure.
But in doing so, he made too many enemies. And these kinds of people don't forget—and they certainly don't forgive.
As Jihoon sat there, the thought of that tragedy struck him again.
Roh's death on May 23, 2009—his quiet walk into the mountains, his final message written on the paper, and then the sudden, heart-shattering news of his suicide.
It wasn't just a political loss. It was a human one.
A man who had tried to fix a broken system, who ended up being crushed by it.
Like what Karl Marx had once said: when the profits to be gained are high enough, even morality and decency can be cast aside.
That was exactly what happened here. Falling of Roh's was profitable for everyone who held the reins and that is why they made sure it happened.
And it also served as a chilling reminder to everyone in high office: this is what happens when you stretch too far.
Even knowing what was about to come, Jihoon couldn't stop it. No one could. The wheels were already in motion, and greed was in command. It was too late for warnings, too late for caution.
But that didn't mean he was powerless.
What he could do—what he could only do—was prepare.
Jihoon would choose a side.
Not just any side. The right one. The smart one.
Jihoon know he wasn't like Roh. He couldn't afford to be. He wasn't built to be a martyr, and he had no desire to become one. Call it selfish if you must, but jihoon knew his limits and that path wasn't his.
But he was made for something else.
He had eyes—sharp ones. And a vision shaped by a lifetime he'd already lived.
Now, he had something even rarer: time.
Just enough of it to build something before the storm came crashing down.
And beside he wasn't out of support, because in his previous life, someone else had carried the torch after Roh's death—a man who made the system tremble, even without Jihoon's help.
He didn't change the nation overnight, nor did he try to reinvent everything. That was never his plan. What he did, though, was something far more personal—he stood up for a friend who had been betrayed. He avenged a fallen brother. He carried on Roh's legacy. He sought justice.
That, more than anything else and also why he chose to enter the Blue House.
That man was Moon Jaein.
Jihoon would seek him out eventually—not now, not yet. He knew Moon wouldn't turn him away.
Not when the time came. But to even if Jihoon want to stand at his door, Jihoon needed backing. He needed credibility, leverage, and a shield that could deter the wolves before they tested his walls.
So maybe Boojin was right.
For now, he had to step in—to join a group. Build alliances. Gain ground.
Only then could he walk into the future he was quietly shaping.
Across the table, Boojin studied him carefully. Jihoon's calm expression convinced her that he had finally come around. That her words had reached him. That he was, perhaps, ready to walk the path she had laid out.
She gave a small, approving nod, misreading the quiet in his eyes.
"If that's the case," she said, her voice softer now, "then it's time for you to meet the people."
She leaned forward, her tone warm but firm.
"People like us. The ones who don't want to be ruled by someone else's plan. The ones who'd rather write their own."
Jihoon didn't answer right away. His eyes lingered on hers, steady and unreadable. Not out of defiance—but calculation.
[Author's Note: Heartfelt thanks to Wandererlithe, JiangXiu, qinqin, OS_PARCEIROS, BigBoobs, Night_Adam, Daoist098135 and Daoistadj for bestowing the power stone!]