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Translator: penny
Chapter: 008
Chapter Title: Still Not Enough
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A party broke out in Doma Township.
From six in the evening until midnight. Yoon-hyuk joined in without holding back. It was a rural bash, sure, but there were plenty of young folks around, so the vibe stayed fresh and lively.
Two massive pots hung in front of the village hall, bubbling with stew. Six charcoal grills were fired up too. Samgyeopsal and beef kept coming, and soju glasses clinked nonstop. Makgeolli was the star, as you'd expect in the countryside, but some seriously wild brews popped up out of nowhere.
Honey mead, snake wine—stuff that looked downright ferocious just kept appearing.
"Anyone wanna pick a song?"
The village head grabbed the mic, buzzing with excitement and hamming it up.
Instantly, a wave of cheers zeroed in on Yoon-hyuk.
"Nah, Yoon-hyuk's gotta go first!"
"Sing one!"
"Sing one!"
"Yoon-hyuk, fighting!"
"He's so handsome!"
Yoon-hyuk took the mic.
A politician can't sit out a moment like this. You won't get far playing it prim and proper. When it's time to match the energy, you go all in.
Yoon-hyuk could nail girl group dances, hip-hop, R&B, ballads—you name it. Grandparents? Oh, he's got that repertoire locked and loaded too.
"Mak-geol-li~ One shot~!"
He poured his soul into it, drawing from the sweet and bitter lessons of a life spanning over 120 years across his past regressions.
"Whoa!"
"Yoon-hyuk!"
"Our mayor-to-be can sing too!"
"He could win Mr. Trot!"
The elders clapped like crazy, and the young crowd roared with laughter.
"Next singer?"
Yoon-hyuk handed the mic back to the village head, whose shoulders were already bouncing, though he was still playing shy.
"How about you?"
Yoon-hyuk offered the mic to Kim Ji-eun, the college volunteer.
"Eek!"
She freaked out and bolted.
Right then.
"Me."
Someone boldly jumped forward. It was none other than Doma Township's star vocalist, Jang Yu-ri from third grade at Doma Elementary.
"Hit-chu-whit too-too-too-too!"
Yu-ri belted out a Billboard hit. Her skills were legit, but not a single elder had a clue what it was.
"Is this that Baby Shark thing?"
"Cute too-roo-too-roo-too?"
"No, it's not!"
Yu-ri fumed at being babied.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The party wound down around one in the morning, and Yoon-hyuk headed home.
But.
"Huh?"
The door was locked.
"I'd usually leave it open since there's nothing worth stealing anyway, even if a burglar broke in."
Yoon-hyuk unlocked it and stepped inside—and nearly passed out from shock.
Whoosh—
Water was running in the bathroom, and right by the door sat a pile of women's clothes. Not grandma pajamas, but wide-leg pants and a hoodie with cute cartoon characters.
'Holy shit.'
For a split second, he froze, and in his ears rang the death knell of his political career.
Click!
To make matters worse, she was about to come out.
"No!"
Yoon-hyuk lunged and grabbed the doorknob.
"Kyaa!"
A scream erupted from inside.
"Wh-who are you?!"
She sounded terrified, and Yoon-hyuk yelled back.
"Who are you? This is my place!"
"Uh... uh-oh."
He couldn't see her face, but her total panic came through loud and clear.
She was babbling incoherently.
"Oh no! Sorry! I must've gotten the wrong house!"
"Wrong house?"
"The village head wrote down directions on a note, but his handwriting's so bad..."
Yeah, that tracked.
"O-okay, I'll step outside. Count to ten, then come out."
Yoon-hyuk caught his breath and retreated. Politics threw all kinds of curveballs at you.
Luckily, this seemed like it'd end as a funny mishap. If he were any more famous, he might've suspected a ruthless political hit job.
"Talk about a hangover cure."
He patted his racing heart.
He waited on the old wooden bench where he'd once scarfed down rice cakes with Jang Yu-ri, her parents, and the village head. About five minutes later, she emerged, fully dressed—ears beet red.
"Sorry! Really, I'm so sorry!"
The moment Yoon-hyuk saw her face, he froze in surprise.
'Oh my God.'
Fate had a twisted sense of humor.
Come to think of it, Kim Ji-eun was a third-year in design at Korea University. This girl was in the same department.
'Ji Hye-min.'
His wife in his second life. His wife again in his third. Mother of his kids.
His lifelong partner.
Milky skin, neat teeth with slightly prominent front ones, the way her nose turned pink in the chilly night air like now. Those innocent puppy-dog eyes.
He knew that face inside out.
Her damp hair carried a whiff of shampoo—apple-scented. Fresh from a hot shower, her skin was still warm and dewy. Yoon-hyuk felt the air around him heat up.
"Wh-why are you staring like that..."
Caught in his gaze, Ji Hye-min shrank back awkwardly.
"Let me see the note."
Yoon-hyuk took the slip from the village head. Yeah, the handwriting was illegible.
"It's not #15, it's #16."
"Yes! Sorry!"
"No worries. Take care. Forget anything?"
"Nope! Seriously, so sorry!"
Ji Hye-min bowed repeatedly and dashed for the gate.
But.
"Th-the door won't open...!"
She yanked at it in full meltdown mode.
"Door won't open!"
"It's a push door."
Yoon-hyuk opened it for her.
"Eek... sorry."
Ji Hye-min's face burned crimson with embarrassment. Touch it, and it'd probably bleed.
"Sorry!"
She fled through the gate.
Who'd have thought their first meeting would go down like this? Even a fourth-time regressor hadn't seen it coming.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The next morning, the village elders saw Yoon-hyuk off at the bus stop, arms loaded with rice cakes and soybean paste. He politely declined.
"Can't take stuff like this if I'm gonna do politics right."
"You ain't a politician yet."
"Building the habit early."
The village bigwigs looked bummed but didn't push.
"We owe you big time, Yoon-hyuk."
"Don't sweat the mayoral race. We'll back you hard."
"We'll make sure you win."
He appreciated it, but they were laying it on thick—enough to worry him.
"Just be careful with election laws."
"Of course!"
"We're pros at that!"
"No worries!"
Jang Yu-ri and the Doma Elementary kids waved goodbye too.
"Take care!"
"Thanks!"
"Come play again, uncle!"
With the hearts of Doma Township's residents won over, Yoon-hyuk boarded the bus again.
Next time he visited, it'd be for the campaign trail.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Never thought our boy would end up on TV."
His parents had caught the broadcast news segment on Doma Elementary. When he got home, they both eyed him like he was a stranger.
"Your apartment group chat's blowing up again."
His sister showed him the residents' chat. Chaos. Stuff like he couldn't run for mayor, send him to Congress, how a nobody without any admin power pulled that off.
One message stood out:
- lololol already like this and imagine the dopamine hit when he gets mayor powers over the budget
Exactly the reaction Yoon-hyuk had hoped for.
But it still wasn't enough. Not by a long shot.
As Assemblyman Park Dae-man had said, Mir City wasn't a metropolis, but it wasn't some podunk town either. Winning over apartment dwellers and rural elders wouldn't cut it for mayor here.
"Gonna head out for a bit."
Yoon-hyuk unpacked, then headed for the door. Mom wasn't thrilled her long-lost son was bolting already.
"No dinner?"
"Grab something at the convenience store."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Yoon-hyuk's first stop: the local print shop.
"Need an outdoor signboard made."
Small enough to fit in a car trunk. Ten thousand won.
Wheels on the base made it mobile. Lots of places overlooked them outdoors since you could move 'em quick.
But Yoon-hyuk played it safe and got prior approval from Mir City Hall's urban design department.
He picked up the finished signboard three days later at four p.m.
Set it up by exit 1 at Mir Station, in a spot that wouldn't block foot traffic.
Then: one table, one chair, a binder, and pens.
Five-thirty p.m.
Commuters started climbing the station stairs after work.
Yoon-hyuk's target demographic.
'Pangyo commuters.'
People think you need big money, fame, or a fancy career to run for office.
Not true.
Real politics? You can do it with a ten-grand signboard, paper, and a pen—right on the street.
Like this.
[Aspiring Politician Independent Lee Yoon-hyuk]
[Signing Campaign for More Trains on Commute Routes]
Passersby glanced at the sign.
And sure enough, someone couldn't resist.
A young woman.
"What's this petition for?"
"Surveying subway ridership and crowding, collecting signatures for more trains."
"Whoa..."
She winced at "subway crowding" like it was a curse.
"No clue if it'll work, but the Mir-Pangyo line needs changes. It's hellish even among hell lines."
She filled out the survey:
① What times do you ride the Mir-Pangyo subway? (6 a.m., 5 p.m.)
② Do you think the Mir-Pangyo line has too-long headways? (Insanely long)
③ How bad is the crowding on the Mir-Pangyo line? (Extremely extremely extremely x100 serious)
④ Do you think the Mir-Pangyo line needs more trains? (Please add them)
Since it doubled as a petition, he got name, age, address (district only), and contact info.
"Thanks."
"This'll get more subway trains?"
"Yep. Submitting it as a citizens' initiative to City Hall."
"Hope it works."
She gave a quick cheer and left.
"Adding subway trains?"
Next: a guy in glasses.
"Petitioning for more trains."
"I'll sign."
A woman in her early forties joined.
"Gimme those papers!"
A briefcase-toting man huffed up.
Soon, a line formed behind the table.
"Mir-Pangyo needs to get its act together."
"Make City Hall bureaucrats ride it to work."
"Lee Yoon-hyuk? I'll remember that name. Fighting!"
"New to politics? Fix this, and I'll vote for you in the presidentials—please!"
It turned into a flash mob scene, citizens swarming.
The collective rage from Mir-Pangyo's hellish subways was fueling Yoon-hyuk's political base.
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