Lee Shin stands in front of the camera.
“Where should I start? I’ll just start from the beginning. A few months ago—when I had made a mistake and was spending time reflecting—I came across a guild. It was a guild that, despite its prestigious name, looked utterly shabby.
For some reason, my eyes were drawn to it. They kept making wrong choices at the doorstep, failing, getting frustrated—just like me. But it was arrogance on my part. This guild never gave up. They never backed down. They were a hundred times cooler than I was, who would always give up and run away. That day, I fell in love with the Mir Guild.
That was the beginning of my journey to Busan.”
No clickbait.
Diction kept as restrained as possible.
A story told plainly in a clear voice.
In this way, Lee Shin became not the notorious troublemaker of the national team, but a young man regretting his past—someone who had gone down to Busan alone to save his small, personal guild, and eventually a passionate young man who fought against the cartel of unscrupulous companies.
“When I think about it now, things were strange from the beginning. Why was the company we could contract with fixed for each district? Why were they the ones doing the inspections we were supposed to do? Why did they act like they were doing us a favor by providing basic information on the production process or ingredient labeling—things we had a right to? And what was with that whole bulk order favoritism?
Even to me, a rookie representative, this looked like a distorted structure. So I asked questions, but they told me I didn’t know how the world worked, or scolded me for being so uptight when ‘things are better when they’re smooth.’ They even got angry, saying I was the one abusing my power.”
Logical and calm but underneath—emotional and heartfelt.
He controlled himself to portray a steady, restrained anger.
“Many people think that in the relationship between guilds and suppliers, the suppliers are always in the weaker position. But suppliers exploit this frame to put pressure on the guilds.
What’s worse is that the guilds they target are lower-league guilds where such pressure works. The strong prey on the weak. They only ever tear into opponents weaker than themselves.”
A side of him that was heavier and more serious than usual.
The weight only truth can carry.
Before anyone realized it, people were being moved by the unprecedented appeal of Lee Shin—Charm 101.
“I dare say, everything is wrong. Even though I’m young and lack social experience, I know how to tell right from wrong. This is… not… fair.”
When the boiling point of emotion was finally reached— the climax of the story’s rise and fall— this was the moment Lee Shin had prepared for the tears.
Clutching his chest, he tore the scroll hidden in his inner pocket.
“This is wrong. This is very, very wro… ng.”
Nausea came with dizziness.
Lee Shin held his head and bowed deeply.
To an observer, it looked as if he was so overcome with immense sorrow that he could not keep his body upright.
Tightly bitten lips, a trembling chin.
He was pitiful.
So fragile, it seemed he might collapse if someone so much as touched him.
And then—
Drop—
When a single tear squeezed out, the emotional dam he had held back burst all at once.
From his choked throat came one final line:
“Wrongdoings… must be corrected.”
That was it.
The SBC Culture Department’s legendary episode of 24 Hours: Wrongdoings That Must Be Corrected ended like that.
And from here— the world would see what happened when Charm 101 went all in on squeezing out tears.
________________________________________
Viewer rating: 20.1%
These days, with cable and OTT dominating, people breathe a sigh of relief if a show hits even 10%. Yet this was not a variety show or a drama, but a dull exposé program—and it broke 20%.
It was only natural for TV stations to be thrown into chaos.
It’s bad enough when your cousin buys land and you get jealous, but how much worse when your industry rival hits the jackpot?
“Look! If you have eyes, look at this! The culture department hit 20.1%. What’s our weekend variety rating? 7.3%. And you still won’t book Lee Shin?”
“…I’m honestly curious. While SBC was hitting a ratings home run, what exactly were our oh-so-great, oh-so-proud KBC people doing? I won’t say more. Bring Lee Shin in.”
Everything came back to Lee Shin.
And no wonder—his tearful scene in the 24 Hours special hit a minute-by-minute rating of 31%! And in just half a day, the YouTube Shorts clip had 10 million views!
At this point, the star of the special was obvious.
While broadcasters focused on ratings, the public was fixated on Lee Shin’s tears.
└ Lee Shin… squeezed out tears?
└ My heart is broken ㅠㅠ God Lee, please don’t cryㅠㅠ
└ Damn, I thought he’d rather punch than take a hit, but why’d he come back beaten up like this… makes me upset…
Like him or not, the sight of a fearless troublemaker crying was shocking in itself. Naturally, it drew attention to the incident.
└ Damn, it’s Hellgate Busan. A cartel? In this day and age?
└ I work in the industry… and it’s not just Busan, this kind of thing happens all over the country… all sorts of illegal acts are still carried out under the name of “industry practice”…
└ I knew this would blow up someday lol There’s a reason big corporations rarely expand into the provinces. The cartels are crazy strong.
└ Is the local government doing nothing?
It started with the most issue-sensitive YouTubers—
— “Guys, did you see it? Lee Shin crying… turns out it’s gasligh—”
— “Today, let’s talk about the deep-rooted evils in the provinces…”
Then newspapers that smelled money—
[ Corruption Carried Out in the Name of “Industry Practice” ]
[ Stronger Than Contracts: “We’re All Friends Here” and the Cover-up of Illegal Acts ]
And finally, other broadcasters rolling on the floor in jealousy over SBC’s success—
[ KBC Special Project: The Reality of Local Guilds ]
[ NBS Special: The Camera Knows — Rolling Up Sleeves to Eradicate Corruption ]
The tear that started in Lee Shin’s eye became a trend in the blink of an eye, turned into an unstoppable public opinion wave, burned through the entire internet—and finally reached its last stop: Yeouido.
________________________________________
Sitting at the head seat, the Prosecutor General tapped the desk with a rolled-up newspaper.
“What did you decide to do about this?”
“…”
“…”
It was an abrupt, blunt way of speaking, skipping all preamble—but the prosecutors present were his direct juniors.
From the tiny snippet of text visible on the rolled-up newspaper, they could guess the topic.
[ …Corruption… Outdated… ]
Corruption. Outdated. Add in today’s hottest issue, and the answer came quickly.
“If it’s about the supply gate case, we’re preparing for it. Right?”
“Given the public interest, we’re taking some extra time for secondary and tertiary verification to ensure there are no loose ends.”
“Kids, are you still going to talk in circles here? Do I have to spell it out—that you’re dragging your feet to protect your faction? Right?”
“S-sorry!”
“We’ll correct that!”
The Prosecutor General’s mild scolding made the prosecutors bow their heads deeply.
The “Busan Supply Gate” had now dropped the regional label and became just “Supply Gate.”
In just a few days, what had been a local corruption case had, thanks to public interest, spread nationwide.
Now that the matter had grown this large, the prosecution had no choice but to tread carefully.
Especially for the “higher-ups” in this room, whose interests were tangled in the matter.
And in that sense, they were in trouble—because their boss happened to be a man obsessively devoted to self-preservation, famously known in their class as a “white heron” for his spotless integrity.
“Have I ever said anything when I see you pocket something? I let it slide if you just take enough to be reasonable. Who doesn’t understand juniors stuck living far from home? Huh?”
“That’s right.”
“Yes, sir!”
“I know exactly why you’re stalling—trying to secure an escape route for your juniors. But right now, we don’t have the luxury of escape routes or waiting.”
The Prosecutor General’s usually gentle eyes glinted with menace.
“You listen to the radio? I have one on during my commute, and they’ve been talking about this case nonstop. I looked it up and saw the TV stations are running specials. Even my daughter asked me at lunch today how this is going.”
“S-sir, I don’t think we need to be swayed by public opinion…”
“That’s right. If we just give it some time—”
“And if something blows up, you’ll take responsibility then?”
“…”
“…”
No matter how provincial the case, could the prosecution really have been unaware of corruption on this scale?
—Once things have progressed this far, it’s a disaster for them either way.
If they knew, it proves they were part of the corruption; if they didn’t, it proves they were incompetent. A lose-lose situation from hell.
“Understand how serious this is. People are starting to ask—what are you hiding that you won’t investigate? If you keep hesitating, they’ll come for us instead.”
“…”
“I’d like to give the kids time to sort themselves out, but we’ve already passed the point where we can just ‘test the waters.’ Push forward for now, and when the ones who fall quiet down, pick them back up discreetly. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Let’s do it right, okay?”
Go on.
Bowing low, the two juniors left under his dismissal order.
It seemed the matter was settled.
But then—there was a moment when the Prosecutor General’s expression changed noticeably.
“…Hoo… damn it…”
It was a rather crude curse to be coming out of the mouth that had, just moments ago, been gently admonishing a junior but it was understandable.
Right now, the Prosecutor General was cornered.
“How the hell did you find out?”
It began a few days earlier.
On a weekend evening, while spending time with his family and later enjoying his hobby in his study, he received a phone call.
— “Hello. Prosecutor General Kim Cheol-jung, right? Nice to meet you. This is Lee Shin, representative of the Mir Guild. Have you eaten yet?”
Yes, Lee Shin.
This guy was the root of the problem.
Just a few days ago, Lee Shin had been shedding pitiful tears on TV, but now he was brandishing a knife on his tongue and threatening him.
— “It’s been pretty warm for you lately, hasn’t it? Prosecutor General, I hear you got a nice little something from that new highway we’re building. You must be feeling cozy.”
— “Hm? You still haven’t taken off the mask?”
That’s right.
Though the Prosecutor General was known to everyone as upright and incorruptible, once you peeled back that mask, the story changed.
In truth, he was an ambitious man hiding his true nature while aiming for even higher places.
— “You cut out the small fry and only take from big shots like LeeDo. You’ve nailed your sales point. It’s nice for both sides when the math is easy, isn’t it?”
— “Hm? Hey~ blackmail? You’re underestimating me, Prosecutor ~ How could this little thing be called blackmail? Honestly, how many people in the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office haven’t taken LeeDo Group money?”
— “By the way.”
But then—
The words that followed from Lee Shin sent a chill straight down his spine.
— “You do realize that having ties to Kirin is another matter entirely, right?”
There’s an unspoken rule.
Those tied to LeeDo never tie themselves to Kirin.
The reverse is also true. These two rival groups in the industry clearly identified friend from foe, and it was well known that anyone who broke this rule would be punished by both sides.
Only then did he realize who this brat really was.
The young master of the LeeDo family that moves the nation.
The eldest grandson of Money Demon, Lee Sang-byeok.
— “I see being Prosecutor General really isn’t for just anyone. I knew you had ambition, but your nerve is as big as the Pacific Ocean.”
— “How did I know? Well, if you just follow the story, it comes up. That’s where you test the waters and then get tossed out over an illegal gambling scandal… Oops, that’s a spoiler. Forget I said anything.”
And then he felt it—something he’d forgotten, but had once desperately craved.
It was…
— “I won’t say much. Just investigate the current supply gate thoroughly. Thor-ough-ly. If you do, this fact will never come out of my mouth.”
A gap in class.
No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t reach it—a gap utterly beyond his grasp.
That gap existed between Lee Shin and himself.
•••
[ Supreme Prosecutors’ Office steps in: “We need to closely examine the current supply gate.” ]
From that day, the supply gate incident entered a new phase
