Chapter 71 – Swimming Emperor (15)
“Mr. Kang Moon-soo, Ms. Park Han-hee. We’re currently on duty!”
“Turn off the camera immediately!”
The police officers who barged into the room looked flustered.
I pretended not to care and said,
“Show me your faces or your name tags. If you break quarantine protocol and I get infected, I need to know exactly who’s responsible.”
“Kang Moon-soo…!”
“Stop recording at once!”
They ignored my request and just repeated themselves.
“How strange. Did I commit some kind of crime?”
“N… no.”
“Then why did you suddenly come here?”
“We received a report.”
“From whom?”
“We can’t disclose that for protection of identity.”
“What was the report?”
“We were told that the window of Mr. Kang Moon-soo’s hotel room was broken.”
I burst into laughter at their flimsy explanation.
“Hah! Someone claims they saw that from the ground?”
“What’s so funny?”
“Go outside and look for yourselves. It’s blocked by the outdoor garden and terrace with the open-air bath. You can’t see it unless you’re above the clouds.”
“……”
The officer realized his slip of the tongue, and his face stiffened.
“Han-hee. The video?”
“Still recording.”
“Save it now and send it to every contact you can. Don’t worry. I’ll take responsibility.”
“O-okay!”
The officers, sensing the situation wasn’t going their way, began to move.
There it is—their true colors.
They cared far more about Park Han-hee’s smartphone than the alleged crime scene.
Click.
They aimed the pistols on their belts at us.
“Stop right now.”
“Take your hands off the smartphone.”
Park Han-hee’s face turned pale with the fear of death.
“M-Moon-soo…”
“Do as they say.”
“…Okay.”
Tap.
She carefully set her smartphone on the floor.
“Now raise your hands over your head and move to the wall—gah?!”
Thud!
The moment the officer looked away toward her phone, I struck back.
I knocked aside the gun aimed at her with a kick—
“Urgh!”
Bang!
He fired straight at my heart without hesitation, but I dodged.
It hurts!
The distance was too close to avoid completely. But the same went for the officer.
“Gah?!”
My rising kick hit his jaw, knocking him out instantly.
I plucked the gun from the air as it fell from his limp hand.
“Freeze. Don’t move.”
“……”
The other officer reached for his fallen gun but froze.
“Go pick up the gun.”
“Moon-soo! Your side—there’s a lot of blood!”
“I’m fine. Go.”
“O-okay…”
Han-hee dashed over to retrieve the gun—
Bang!
“Aaagh?!”
The moment one officer moved to grab her as a hostage, I pulled the trigger without hesitation.
His scream rang out as the bullet pierced his leg.
Reloading, I spoke casually.
“Did you think I couldn’t shoot?”
“You… you shot a police officer! You think you’ll get away with this?!”
“Of course.”
“If you’re counting on that video, forget it! Don’t you remember it was cut off mid-way? You’ll be charged with obstruction and assaulting an officer!”
“Who said it was cut off?”
“Your smartphone is over there…”
The officer looked at the phone Han-hee set on the floor.
Then he realized something was wrong and trailed off.
“Here’s a quiz. Where do you think my smartphone is?”
“No way—!”
Whip!
He scanned the large room with sharp eyes and spotted it quickly.
My old-model smartphone, placed in the perfect spot to capture the whole scene.
And he fell into despair.
(Mr. Kang Moon-soo! Are you okay? You were shot in the waist!)
“Yes. It only grazed me. I never imagined something this horrifying would happen while on a video call.”
The dangerous first half was over. Time for the second.
***
I didn’t believe that every ministry in the Korean government was united in wanting me dead.
Of the people, by the people, for the people…!
Old-fashioned politicians who invoke “the people” whenever something goes wrong.
They look incompetent—because they are incompetent—but when they sense they can win votes, they bite into their rivals with rabid obsession.
“It’s the ruling party’s smear campaign!”
“This is a vile plot by the opposition!”
“This is a new gate-level scandal!”
“We’ve secured the recordings!”
“How fascinating.”
In an age where political crimes barely exist, it was a grotesque and rare spectacle.
Maybe the politicians’ pathetic behavior frustrated the citizens too?
Even ordinary people were voluntarily gathering evidence and submitting reports to protect the political party they supported.
“Captured by zooming in with a helicopter camera…”
“According to an eyewitness…”
“I saw someone armed with a gun…”
“I’m reporting a suspicious-looking man…”
It was a sight you’d never see in modern times, where the government typically handles everything on its own.
“Truly astonishing.”
I watched the whole process unfold from my hospital bed, relaxed.
Security detail?
That side was in chaos too—bribery allegations and incriminating evidence kept surfacing, forcing many officials to resign.
And at the end of every trail, one businessman was always involved.
“That’s the guy!”
My “girlfriend,” Park Han-hee—who practically lived in the hospital to “take care” of me since I had no family—was peeling an apple when she suddenly gasped and pointed at the TV.
“The cram school guy?”
“Yes! That’s him! No doubt!”
The man who told Park Han-hee at the academy to quit running and sing instead—then got brutally rejected.
Just as she once described, he had the pampered look of a wealthy second-generation chaebol.
“Looks like we found him.”
“The culprit caught on the apartment security camera looks just like him. Their build is almost identical.”
“True.”
A slim, delicate pretty-boy appearance.
From behind, he looked similar to Choi Kang-hoon, someone people often mistook for a woman.
The contrast was ridiculous.
Nam Hae-soo—the “Emperor of Swimming”—even at an age where he could drop dead and return to nature any day was still built like a man: broad shoulders, strong limbs.
In his prime, he had the sturdy physique of a true athlete.
But this guy…
“Chairman Hwang Hae-soo will be holding a press conference…”
“The court summonses Chairman Hwang Hae-soo…”
“Uncertainty over Chairman Hwang Hae-soo’s appearance…”
Hwang Hae-soo.
Chairman of one of Korea’s top five conglomerates.
A business prodigy who, at a young age, built a world-class company with his extraordinary investment sense.
“Of course…”
Maybe it was because he knew Korea’s future.
Now a major conglomerate chairman, he was investing astronomical sums into defense industries—money-eating monsters.
But still—
He was far too careless.
His true calling was athletics. He was never suited for politics or management.
Didn’t Kim Eun-jung prove that?
In her dream she was reborn as the youngest daughter of a noble count’s family, yet she behaved no differently than in reality.
And so she self-destructed!
Kim Eun-jung could never become Angelina Chimac.
“Hwang Hae-soo’s investment speculation allegations.”
“Hwang Hae-soo, predator of small businesses.”
“Is the Ministry of Defense owned by Chairman Hwang Hae-soo?”
“Hwang Hae-soo’s women.”
Even Nam Hae-soo wearing another man’s mask was no exception.
His success wasn’t built on ability, but on monopolizing future knowledge.
But to the outside world, it looked like he simply invested using illegal insider information.
“Where did Chairman Hwang Hae-soo obtain his information?”
“Land acquisition earned him 100x profit.”
“Hwang Hae-soo claims it was coincidence…”
“193 coincidences? Impossible.”
His allies—or those whose weaknesses he held—risked their necks to protect him, but it wasn’t enough to reverse public opinion.
Why?
Because 99% of Nam Hae-soo’s accumulated wealth was unproductive windfall income.
Real estate, stocks, cryptocurrency…
Utterly useless for national development, squeezing only the tears and blood of ignorant ordinary citizens.
So his public reputation was at rock bottom.
And the old-school politicians did not miss this chance.
“Ruling party issues statement condemning Hwang Hae-soo!”
“Hwang Hae-soo mocks the people!”
“Hwang Hae-soo will be judged!”
“The firepower is insane.”
It took only ten days for the once-untouchable conglomerate chairman to stand trial as a defendant.
And behind that momentum?
I played a major role.
“Mr. Kang Moon-soo, may we begin the interview?”
“Yes.”
“How is your injury?”
“Much better now.”
The press is the strongest army—one that sheds no blood.
“You were attacked by police officers working under Chairman Hwang Hae-soo’s orders. What do you think of him?”
“He’s the worst. He tried to kill me, someone he’s never even met and holds no grudge against.”
“Do you have any guesses why?”
“None at all. Do I run a business? Am I in politics? Do I invest? I’m just an athlete.”
I spoke confidently before dozens of reporters and cameras.
Nam Hae-soo. Are you watching?
You targeted my life—so I’ll give you the worst nightmare in return.
“I heard this wasn’t the first attempt on your life?”
“Yes. They sent a car full of gangsters after me, and even hired a sniper in a helicopter.”
“How did you manage to fight off so many gangsters alone?”
“I’m an athlete.”
“…Excuse me?”
“To explain a bit more, I was trained by Master Gomushin, the pride of Korean Taekwondo.”
“Ah! Master Gomushin!”
“He taught me humility when I was arrogant.”
That wasn’t flattery.
When I had no sword and couldn’t use the swordsmanship I learned from Valentine, Taekwondo was incredibly helpful.
It’s also why I endured Master Gomushin’s terrible foot odor and kept training relentlessly.
“Mr. Kang Moon-soo.”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything you’d like to say to the government?”
This was a pre-arranged question, agreed upon as a condition for granting the interview.
I delivered my prepared answer.
“It was such a shock that I seriously considered emigrating. I hope they show that justice still lives in Korea.”
A message aimed squarely at Nam Hae-soo.
The topic was sensitive, so the reporter quickly moved to the next question.
“Please say a word to the public, who are concerned about your health.”
“I’ll do my best to make sure I can compete in the Olympics without issue. Long live Korea. Thank you.”
Clap!
Clap, clap, clap!
Maybe it was the slogan at the end?
The reporters and hospital staff watching the broadcast began applauding enthusiastically, as if on cue.
Smooth.
Now that I had identified Nam Hae-soo wearing another man’s skin, the plan to provoke him by impersonating him was no longer needed.
“The true nature of the Hwang Hae-soo Gate revealed!”
“What grudge does he have against athlete Kang Moon-soo?”
“Who is responsible for the negligent security?”
“A national embarrassment—someone must pay!”
But the more my fame and value increased thanks to the Olympics, the further “Hwang Hae-soo’s” reputation would plummet.
Which meant I needed to follow through with my original plan: enter the Olympics and sweep every gold medal.
After the live broadcast ended…
“Mr. Kang Moon-soo, thank you for your hard work despite your injuries.”
“No, thank you. I feel like some of the frustration and injustice I’ve been carrying has finally eased.”
“Here’s my card. If you ever need anything, call me—I’ll come immediately.”
“That’s reassuring.”
Politicians and celebrities who knew where the wind was blowing came to visit me in the hospital.
If it weren’t for pandemic restrictions limiting visitors, even more would have come.
Thanks to that, I’m alive.
The quarantine rules, which were always annoying, felt very welcome today.
***
How easy life would be if everything went exactly as planned.
But then the impossible happened.
“It’s an honor to meet you. As you already know, I’m Hwang Hae-soo.”
“…Ha.”
Nam Hae-soo—who had pushed all responsibility onto his underlings and received a suspended sentence—had come to see me, supposedly to apologize.
Is this even real?
I was stunned by the archaic, nonsensical nature of the trial and verdict.
Hwang Hae-soo’s subordinate A tried to kill Kang Moon-soo.
Hwang Hae-soo’s subordinate B tried to kill Kang Moon-soo.
Hwang Hae-soo’s subordinate C tried to kill Kang Moon-soo.
Hwang Hae-soo’s…
Anyone could see it was all under Hwang Hae-soo’s orders. But the subordinates confessed it was their own independent action, and the trial fizzled out.
The true culprit walked out with only a fine and probation—effectively cleared.
“I’m very sorry you had to suffer through all that, Mr. Kang Moon-soo.”
Nam Hae-soo—wearing someone else’s skin—apologized in a tone utterly devoid of remorse.
“You have good subordinates.”
“They’re incompetent subordinates who can’t even carry out the tasks I give them.”
“But their loyalty is impressive.”
They went to prison in his place, when he was the one who should’ve been serving life.
“That’s because our company takes care of people in their old age.”
“A splendid company.”
“Thank you.”
Nam Hae-soo kept glancing at Park Han-hee, who was sitting close beside me.
Does it bother him?
Then I’ll make it bother him more.
“Does Miss Nam Soo-hee come to mind?”
“W-what…!”
The name of his daughter—who resembled a younger Park Han-hee.
Hearing it, he widened his eyes, unable to hide his agitation.
“Forget I said anything.”
“Who are you…?!”
Grab!
Nam Hae-soo clutched my shoulders with both hands and shouted aggressively.
“Mr. Hae-soo.”
“Let go.”
My bodyguards, sensing danger, stepped forward.
“How do you know Soo-hee?!”
But already having lost his composure, he didn’t back down.
“One question at a time—”
“I asked who you ARE!”
“I’m Kang Moon-soo. A shaman.”
It was a shame I never got to experience the old-era Olympics…
But I decided to end this boring story here.