Chapter 8: The Pink Whirlwind is Coming!

10 minutes before the press conference

Han Seoyoung couldn’t sit still and muttered anxiously.

“This place feels more chaotic than I expected. Even if we tell them not to use flash, they’ll ignore it, won’t they? Ugh, what should I do? Should I go up with them? Would that make me look too much like a guardian?”

“……”

Unable to bear it any longer, Bong Soohee picked up a back scratcher.

She lightly tapped Han Seoyoung’s head with it.

“Ouch! Why did you hit me?”

“Stop rambling. You’re giving me a headache.”

Han Seoyoung was a junior from Kang Jiwoo’s college days.

Bong Soohee, on the other hand, was Kang Jiwoo’s college peer, and naturally, the two knew each other, though they weren’t particularly close.

“Aren’t you worried about this at all, senior?”

“What’s there to worry about? It’ll probably flop anyway.”

“What? Flop? How can you say that?”

“Well, do you think they’ll do well in that state? Their wits are basically at an elementary school level now.”

Bong Soohee didn’t seem to have much faith in Kang Jiwoo.

“But wasn’t it your idea to hold this press conference in the first place?”

“It was.”

“Then are you saying you suggested the press conference knowing it would fail?”

“Precisely because it’s bound to fail, it’s more endearing. If someone’s too skilled, they’re not cute anymore. It’s their clumsiness that makes them both cute and pitiable. After the press conference, I’ll bet my right hand their approval rating will break 15%.”

There was some merit to Bong Soohee’s reasoning, but Han Seoyoung’s concerns weren’t about approval ratings.

“How can you say something so irresponsible! What if the candidate ends up traumatized?”

“Traumatized from what?”

“Do you even know how hard they’ve been preparing for this? Or how much pressure they’re under? They’re so delicate that just raising your voice sends them hiding behind the curtains!”

Bong Soohee didn’t respond and instead scratched her back absentmindedly, staring at the distance. She hadn’t considered that point, and it left her feeling slightly embarrassed.

But Han Seoyoung felt just as awkward.

“Haah… Sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up like that… I’ll step out to the car for a moment.”

“Hurry back. It’s starting soon.”

—

The night before

Han Seoyoung was deep in thought.

What could she do to help Kang Jiwoo?

She tried to think from a child’s perspective rather than an adult’s.

The notes Kang Jiwoo had written gave her a hint.

“Can’t we make people look like Tannipings?”

That was the train of thought.

A vision of mascot costumes flashed through Han Seoyoung’s mind—those silly costumes she had made during her early days in politics.

If they wore those to cheer, it might lift Kang Jiwoo’s spirits.

“They won’t be able to see much from the back anyway. Our party members will be in the front row, so it might even have an effect.”

Thus, the mascot cheering plan was born.

—

“Director Bong! Wear this!”

“Nope. No way I’m putting something on my head that smells like it’s been rotting in storage for 20 years.”

“You should at least wash your hair before making complaints like that!”

Swoosh.

She plopped one onto Bong Soohee’s head.

“Representative Park Seokji, you wear one too!”

“No, I have my dignity as a lawmaker. How could I wear something like this?”

“For the party, sacrifice! The good of the party comes first!”

Squeak!

Another one landed on Park Seokji’s head.

The rest of the mascot costumes were distributed among the party members.

Over ten people donned mascot suits and stood in the front row, waving enthusiastically toward Kang Jiwoo.

“Candidate, you’ve got this!”

“Jiwoo ping, stay strong!”

“You can do it!”

“Show off your cuteness to the fullest!”

Was this a press conference for a presidential candidate or a kindergarten talent show stage?

Regardless of the atmosphere, the mascot cheering tactic seemed effective.

“The candidate’s expression has changed!”

Their adorable face was the same as ever, but their eyebrows had shifted.

It was as if they had resolved to do something, with their eyebrows now shaped like a determined V—reminiscent of the “Angry Sparrow” character that used to be popular.

—

“Hello! I’m Jiwoo ping!”

“So ridiculously cute!”

Their mistakes were minor.

In fact, the mood lightened.

Thankfully, Kang Jiwoo didn’t seem too daunted and read from the script.

“… My policies and beliefs have not changed. If I become president, I will prepare to work hard. Our party members will also strive together.”

The speech flowed smoothly.

Of course, their eyes were glued to the script.

Still, it was admirable to see the young candidate trying their best to read in front of so many people.

The content of the speech wasn’t particularly important.

This event was more about showing Kang Jiwoo’s progress—proving that TS Syndrome was real, that they could stand before the public, and that they had the ability to deliver a speech.

And perhaps, it was a step further.

“…I will work hard to become a president you can trust!”

“How adorable!”

It was a stage to showcase Kang Jiwoo’s cuteness to the world.

Standing on a chair because of her short height, peeking out just her head from behind the podium, jumping off the chair with a polite bow, hands clasped, bending 90 degrees.

“Adorable…”

Clap clap clap clap!

Even the most skeptical reporters found themselves applauding.

She was truly a being made of pure cuteness.

“We will now proceed to take questions. Due to the candidate’s circumstances, I, the chief secretary, will answer on her behalf.”

The answers to the questions continued in a conventional manner.

The press conference ended successfully.

The live broadcast drew a total of 1 million viewers domestically

and 1.5 million globally.

It was an unprecedented record for a live broadcast by a domestic politician.

“Do you have Kang Jiwoo’s dress in stock?”

“Apologies, customer. All sizes are sold out.”

A whirlwind swept the world.

It was dubbed the “Pink Whirlwind.”

For example, the clothes she wore, from a popular fashion brand, sold out completely.

“Are all the other colors sold out too?”

“Yes, customer. I’m sorry, but all related items are also out of stock.”

Kang Jiwoo’s outfit from the press conference—

a simple and modest dress—became a massive sensation in the fashion industry.

Especially among mothers wanting to dress their children similarly.

It reached the point where retailers couldn’t keep up with the demand.

Even political commentators softened their stance a little.

– Kang Jiwoo’s press conference has become a huge topic. What are your thoughts?

– I found it cute.

– That’s it?

– Haha. What else can I say about a child? I’d rather critique the party than the candidate…

Critics became more mild-mannered.

There was a reason for this: public opinion.

Headline: Panelists’ Remarks on Kang Jiwoo Collected

(Screenshots of panelists criticizing Kang Jiwoo)

“Are these guys out of their minds?”

“What? Telling her to go to a mental hospital?”

“Is that something you say to a young girl? Seriously, what the hell?”

“From now on, anyone who messes with Jiwoo is dead meat…!”

(Meme of a frog charging with a knife)

“Our Jiwoo is everything lol.”

“The panelists are gross, but honestly, so is this post.”

“Because of Kang Jiwoo, the political forums are polluted.”

“More like purified, actually?”

Headline: I Just Want Kang Jiwoo to Be President

“I wish Kang Jiwoo could serve as president, even for just five years.”

“She’s just so adorable.”

“Let’s make her president.”

“If the kid wants to try it, just let her. Stop being so stingy about the presidency.”

“Why so stingy about electing a president? Lololol.”

“Even politics are cute now lololol.”

Headline: I Want a Young Girl President

“When she hopped off the chair after the press conference, I realized— I’ve always wanted a young girl president.”

“What the hell is wrong with this pedo?”

“Oh, he meant a ‘young girl as president,’ not literally.”

“Say it right, you almost got reported, dude.”

“Lololololol.”

Public interest and support surged.

Even the panelists adjusted their tone, lowering their criticisms of Kang Jiwoo.

A social atmosphere emphasizing the need to protect children also played a role.

While they had no qualms about verbally sparring with Kang Jiwoo, the “debate gladiator,” it felt morally wrong to criticize a little girl.

Even the harshest commentators had some compassion.

The fact that the opponent was an elementary school-aged girl weighed heavily on their conscience.

And then came the time for the long-awaited approval ratings announcement.

Party members gathered in one place, waiting for the results.

“Candidate Jo Seoyoung of the New Wind Democratic Party: 36.8%, ranking first.”

“Candidate Yoo Hangseol of the Republican Party: 31.5%, ranking second.”

“Candidate Kang Jiwoo of the Future Marriage Ginkgo Korea Party: 15.1%, ranking third.”

“15%!

Our candidate got 15%!”

“No way! Is this for real?!”

“She did it! Our candidate did it!!”

Everyone reacted as if they couldn’t believe it.

Frankly, neither could I.

“How did we exceed 15%…?”

To be honest, 15% was a number we couldn’t even dream of reaching.

And yet, with just one press conference, boom—it happened.

A thought suddenly crossed my mind.

“Cuteness is power.”

It was undeniably true.

It almost made me afraid of the cuteness we possessed.

“Well done, Kang Jiwoo! Let’s give our candidate a celebratory toss!”

“Hooray! Hooray!”

“Kyaaah!”

I felt my body lifting off the ground.

“What the heck is this about tossing me into the air?

I really hate bumping into people or stuff like this.”

“Eeheehee! Heheheh!”

But despite myself, I started laughing.

Elementary kids really do love this kind of thing.

“Candidate! You were amazing!”

“How did you do it so well?”

“Was it nice having us cheer for you?”

“Yes! Because Director Ping, Manager Ping, and Party Member Pings cheered for me, I was able to do my best!”

“Aww, look at that. She said ‘Manager Ping’~ So cute~”

The cheerful chatter lasted only a moment.

“Alright, alright. Calm down and take your seats. We’ve got a mountain of issues to tackle.”

“Did we decide to settle the campaign slogan first?”

“That’s one problem, but revising our promotional strategy is the top priority.”

The problem was glaring.

The banners hanging everywhere still featured the old Kang Jiwoo.

All promotional materials, including videos, were the same.

Effectively, it was as if we had replaced the candidate mid-campaign.

And the real kicker? Our party had no money.

We’d already stretched the budget to its limit, and there was no way to produce new promotional materials to the same standard as before with the funds we had left.

“We can’t replace all the promotional materials.

We need to identify which ones are realistic to update.”

And so began the promotional strategy meeting.

Party members pitched their ideas one by one.

“Wouldn’t it be better to replace the banners?”

“Let’s distribute new flyers.

They’ll reach far more people than banners.”

“Printing and distributing a single flyer nationwide costs over 500 million won…”

“Forget that; let’s start with video content.”

“Assemblyman, do you even know how much video production costs?”

“Do you think I’m an idiot? I know someone who can do it cheap! They’re a total professional!”

As the discussion heated up, Han Seoyoung stepped in to calm things down.

“Let’s hear from Director Bong.

He’s our party’s promotional advisor, after all.”

All eyes turned to Bong Suhee.

In the corner, she was quietly pulling at her own cheeks.

Apparently, she had been bribed with the chance to watch Taniping on my smartphone.

This devilish woman.

It’s my phone to begin with, but she took it and now acts like she’s doing me a favor.

“Director? Any thoughts?”

Bong Suhee looked at them with a blank expression.

Here it was—the face.

The face of a Tibetan fox.

A sloth.

A capybara.

And Bong Suhee.

A face like someone who’d accidentally flushed their brain down the toilet.

Eventually, the party members lost patience and continued pushing their opinions.

“Large banners come first, no?”

“Promotional flyers are more effective!”

“Video content is the way to go…”

This was the issue with our party.

Too many cooks in the kitchen.

The fact that our name was “Future Marriage Ginkgo Korea Party” says it all, doesn’t it?

A mishmash of various minor parties that merged together.

No one wanted to compromise on their original party name, so we ended up with this monstrosity.

In the middle of the chaos, Bong Suhee finally spoke, almost lazily.

“Why don’t we just make a TokTok challenge?”

Cha-ll-en-ge…?

“???”

A challenge is certainly accessible…

But what kind of challenge?

Surely, she’s not thinking of making us do a dance or something?

“Oh no, I’m terrible at dancing…”

“You don’t have to dance.”

Thank goodness it’s not dancing.

“Then what do we have to do…?”

Bong Soohee’s expression turned strange.

Something about it was unsettling.

It felt like she was going to make us do something even worse than dancing.

At last, she answered.

“It’s simple… we’ll—”