Numbers: Episodes 5-6

by alathe

What’s the worst place you could run into your ex? A board meeting certainly ranks. A rooftop may, in fact, be worse. One thing’s for sure: our steely-eyed heroine has more schemes up her sleeve than her ex-fiancé has skeptical expressions… and the two are about to collide.

EPISODES 5-6

They weren’t kidding about that brooch. Ji-soo — or, rather, Joyce — is merciless. She waits until Ho-woo has finished his presentation before cutting him to shreds. The plan he’s outlined to save Soma Tech depends on periodic loans. If taking someone’s money is a crime, she says, airily, then this is like murder. A blind racehorse never wants to be put down. But it can’t see the bigger picture. Wounded by this volley of hilariously brutal analogies, Ho-woo stares at his noona in disbelief. He’d sort of thought she might be proud of him. So much for that.

Meanwhile, Seung-jo’s kicked-puppy look has reached epic proportions. As soon as the meeting finishes — game, set, and match to Joyce Jang — he drags her by the arm to his one place of comfort: the roof. Then, he hugs her, hard. In his eyes lurks the condensed pathos of 101 dalmatians, each one limping. Alas, it seems Ji-soo is not a dog person. She slaps him. How dare he worry about her after sabotaging her father! The Ji-soo he once knew is dead. And now the resurrected Joyce is ready to kick financial ass, destroy priceless artwork, and glare eye-daggers at Vice President Han — who’s torn between dislike and respect.

Ho-woo is at his wit’s end. After an impromptu lecture from Yeon-ah, he learns why HK Equity wants to drag Soma to bankruptcy court: to guzzle up the firm with its debts already cleared. And so, he invades Ji-soo’s hotel room, announcing a desperate gambit. On his laptop are the blueprints for Soma’s 3D printing tool. If she doesn’t reconsider, he’ll publish it open-source, rendering Soma worthless prey. Alas, if there’s one thing Ji-soo knows, it’s financial chicken: she refuses to budge.

Ji-soo’s tenacity proves near fatal for Soma’s CEO. Plunged into despair, he overdoses on pills. In a flurry of reawakened trauma, Ho-woo calls for an ambulance. Meanwhile, we learn there’s more to Ji-soo than immaculate fashion sense and fabulous comebacks. The next time we see her, she’s weeping behind her sunglasses before her father’s ashes. Afterwards, she runs smack into Ho-woo. They sit outside on separate benches. Haebit’s destruction, Ho-woo announces, wasn’t Seung-jo’s fault. His report was secretly altered — and Jisan turned a blind eye. As for Soma’s CEO? He’ll survive… just. That man was weak, Ji-soo cuts in. Ho-woo, sensing the subtext, firmly disagrees. The CEO fought till the end, under immense strain. The same was true of Mr. Jang.

Later, Ho-woo tries to rattle Seung-jo out of his Ji-soo-induced agony. Isn’t this the part where they save the day through unlikely teamwork? Alas, it seems they can’t bromance their way out of this one: Seung-jo has a very busy brooding schedule, and is fresh out of starry-eyed idealism. But inspiration strikes during a chat with Yeon-ah. It’s a shame, she chuckles, that you can’t pawn a company like a watch. Ho-woo stops, seizes her by the shoulders, and thanks her profusely. Leaving her much-flustered, he races to the patent office… where someone has beaten him to the punch. Someone tall, sardonic, and puppy-eyed!

Ji-soo, Vice President Han, and CHAIRMAN JIN TAE-SOO (Kang Shin-il) of Jisan gather to discuss how they might best devour Soma. Ji-soo eyes Chairman Jin with distaste, remembering Ho-woo’s warning. But before she can do anything, in strides Seung-jo, looking very smug indeed. He’s armed, as ever, with paper! As of today, Soma’s debt has been entirely repaid. Enter Ho-woo, looking equally delighted. Soma’s 3D tech has been pledged to the patent office, and the loan is enough to soak up their debts. The boys are back in action: foiling schemes and doling out justice through zany financial loopholes!

Still, it’s a stale victory. Make no mistake, Ji-soo tells Seung-jo later: I don’t forgive you. All right, he replies, keep hating me. Just don’t hate yourself. She flinches as he plucks away the sword brooch on her lapel. Later, he’s in a dour mood, which he merrily inflicts on Ho-woo. Accountants, he warns, aren’t warriors for justice. It was lax management that put Soma in jeopardy — next time, you might be taking them to court yourself. This only slightly dents Ho-woo’s spirits. I daresay the lesson would have sunk in more if he hadn’t been busy flirting with Yeon-ah. Right in front of Seung-jo and his Desk of Despair!

Later, Ho-woo and Ji-soo — or, perhaps Ji-soo is more accurate after all? — meet in the park. Relations have thawed a tad: they’re sitting — albeit a meter apart — on the same bench. Why is she with HK Equity? She has her reasons. But stay out of it, she warns. Even I can’t glean much information. Still, she tells him of a suspicious file she stole a glance at: a deposit confirmation with HK Equity, from a redacted sender. The only hint of their identity? “AN”.

Totally coincidentally, there’s a new player in town… the formidable AHN SEUNG-YEON (Bae Hae-sun), Vice President of Auditing. Returning after a health crisis, she’s outraged to find one of her people ousted by Vice President Han: the all-too-principled Kang Hyun. This, she decides, means war. And by war, of course, she means a meeting! Here, she intends to seize the Advisory Department’s dearest prize: Jisan Bank. After all, it’s high time… for an audit. Vice President Han fires back the only way he knows how: via profits. Advisory can extract billions from Jisan. Remind him, what can Auditing offer…? Ah yes. Financial transparency. Very laudable. No one cares.

Meanwhile, Ho-woo lovingly updates his murderboard. Next to Vice President Ahn’s name goes a post-it note: “AN?” But suspicion works both ways. Vice President Ahn makes a point of meeting him. I understand, she says, that you encouraged Hyun to leave. I’m sure there was a good reason. I just can’t forgive you, is all. I want you to leave Taeil.

Another day, another scheme. Ji-soo has a task for Vice President Han, who looks downright delighted to be included. HK Equity owns a bakery franchise called Cake Bean. She wants him to sell it — as fast as possible. Ho-woo bursts into Seung-jo’s new office with the news, though, not before mocking him over his promotion. Turns out, selling bad loans earns you a spanking new title… or, at least, it does when you’re filthy rich, and your dad truly wants to irritate you.

Seung-jo is apathetic about all things Cake Bean, right up until he learns that Ji-soo is involved. Then, he’s all over it. He catches her in the hallway and makes with the fervent arm-grabbery, urging her not to get involved with his father. Her reaction is one of superb disdain. And so this is the story of how Seung-jo ends up heading the Cake Bean project — whilst scrutinizing every inch of paperwork. It’s good to be thorough, he insists to Ho-woo. At Taeil, we sell trust, not reports. Moreover — we must protect Ji-soo from harm.

Ho-woo has his work cut out for him. New projects — and new enemies — aside, he’s determined to identify the limited partner sending money to HK. He’s fortunate enough to do his thinking in front of Yeon-ah. Till now, Yeon-ah’s characterization has been threadbare, but this episode presents a delightful twist. She’s a spoiled rich kid! And boy is she charming about it. Currently, she’s laughing over dinner with her father… who’s none other than Chairman Jin. She needs a favor: could he ply his contacts for some info? She’s really trying to date someone here.

Ho-woo is eating late with his two best friends, SONG YEO-JIN (Do Yeon-jin) and GONG HEE-SAM (Kim Sun-bin), who are almost as important to him as they are… well, utterly peripheral to the plot. It’s here that he receives a call from Yeon-ah. Much to everyone’s jealousy (Yeo-jin), fascination (Hee-sam) and awkwardness (Ho-woo), she makes a glamorous appearance, merrily sharing a drink or five. As the evening wanes, she waxes tipsier, sliding a napkin towards Ho-woo. Scrawled on it is the name of HK’s limited partner. Chairman Lee of Sanga. Moments later, she drops off to sleep. Ho-woo watches her, softly.

Speaking of Chairman Lee… things are looking rough for him. Like, “my debts have debts have debts” rough. Or like, “brandishing a golf club at my lackeys in a screaming fit” rough. Vice President Han and Hyeong-woo present a solution: why not purchase Cake Bean, using it to sell the empty Sanga Village? Behind this suggestion lies an intricate web of agendas. First, there’s Ho-woo’s recent advice to Vice President Han: if you want to sell, make the buyer feel like they’re earning something. Second, there’s Ji-soo, who last night appeared to Hyeong-woo like a specter. Make amends for my father’s death, she’d said. Prove to me you’re better off alive.

There’s just one problem: the cake is a lie. In the middle of investigating Cake Bean’s stock, Ho-woo and Yeon-ah encounter a protester who’s chained himself to a delivery truck. His livelihood was ruined by this all-too-sparkly franchise. Cake Bean has been busting its franchisees — hence HK’s need to sell it, sharpish. Vice President Han likely knew this… and Ji-soo, almost certainly.

I’ll break the news to Seung-jo, promises Ho-woo. He proceeds to tell him absolutely nothing. It’s a clumsy deception: Seung-jo overhears Yeon-ah discussing their findings, and looks stung. Is hiding things from me, he asks Ho-woo, your specialty? You’re one to talk, Ho-woo snaps back: you knew from the start — and hid it because of Ji-soo. Can you still claim Taeil trades in trust? Yeon-ah, meanwhile, is horrified at Ho-woo’s behavior. Seung-jo’s attempts to remonstrate with Ji-soo remain humiliatingly futile. In short, everyone is angry, embarrassed, and feeling their pride as accountants rapidly deflate.

Ho-woo decides to warn Chairman Lee — who, unfortunately, has left for the airport. Luckily, Yeon-ah has a flashy car and a flawless disregard for traffic safety. Seung-jo, having had the same change of heart, rushes there himself, buying the first ticket he can name to get past immigration. This time, it’s Ho-woo who beats him to the draw. (Can you imagine how effective our boys would be if they actually communicated?) All Seung-jo gets is a 14 million won glass of champagne, and a newfound appreciation for his pupil’s deviousness. Because Ho-woo planned this all along. The reason he delayed was so he could warn Chairman Lee about Cake Bean personally — and watch his trust in Vice President Han evaporate.

Striding coolly away from the airport, our dream team crowd round a laptop… only to boggle at the results. The patent for Cake Bean’s refrigeration tech still belongs to HK. What’s more, it’s one of plenty. As our heroes search for the licensed owners of HK’s abundance of patents, they discover a catalog of the rich and influential — or rather, their children. Ji-soo isn’t collecting patents, realizes Ho-woo. She’s collecting people. Sure enough, across town, his incomparable noona is meeting with a politician, offering him refrigeration tech. It’s a means of soliciting bribes from dodgy donors: offer local manufacturers the patent, and use it to shield the cash transfer. Joyce Jang is playing the long game.

This means Ho-woo’s work is just beginning — time to hit the archives for some extracurricular snooping! To his horror, he’s interrupted by Yeon-ah, who’s very interested in his research. Ho-woo, looking thoroughly hand-in-the-cookie-jar sheepish, mumbles about whether she has boundaries at all. Let me join you, demands Yeon-ah, unperturbed. Let’s do it right this time. Cooperation.

The character development gods have been kind! We’re blessed not only with the ruthlessly fabulous Ji-soo, but a new and improved Yeon-ah. Admittedly, Yeon-ah’s still relegated to sidekick, but boy does her self-possession and lackadaisical approach to accountancy make sense now: it’s all part of her nepo-baby charm. Meanwhile, Ji-soo is an absolute dream. If there’s one thing I love, it’s a character who’s turned herself into a performance, sacrificing integrity to a greater goal. My favorite book isn’t The Count of Monte Cristo for nothing! I’m enjoying Ji-soo’s quiet camaraderie with Ho-woo. Whilst I hope she and Seung-jo get to communicate in more than longing glances and looks of disdain soon, I won’t knock it: those are some good longing glances.

The plotting has become a cat’s cradle of corruption, financial manipulation, debt trading, and accounting jargon — and I for one am loving it. Do I periodically need to pause the episode to decipher what Joyce is up to this time? Yes. Does each new twist make me squeal in delight? Absolutely. (Am I disproportionately proud of knowing what a limited investor is? That too!) I like that this show tests our limits; whilst it’s prepared to handhold us over how patent law works, this is required for understanding its convoluted twelve-step schemes. Numbers has really found its footing this week — I’m excited for the wheeling and dealing that lies ahead!

 
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