The Han Dong-hoon Story

PART 07 Han Dong-hoon the Human · Original Text 06

One late night in 2024, after finishing his campaign for the general election, Han Dong-hoon entered a convenience store near Suseo Station alone.

In his hands were a cup of instant noodles and a bottle of zero cola.

Sitting by the window, he poured hot water and waited three minutes, his eyes tightly shut. The exhaustion from running all day without rest wrapped around his entire body.

According to his aide's testimony, that day's lunch was only kimbap eaten in the car. When people recall the name Han Dong-hoon, they typically first picture the image of a "fighter" armed with cold logic and sharp tailoring, standing unflinching against the opposition in the National Assembly. Former chief of the Anti-Corruption and Organized Crime Division of the Supreme Prosecutor's Office, the youngest Justice Minister. Imagining him armed with cool reason and logic, one would expect to see him raising a wine glass at an upscale restaurant.

But the image of the "natural Han Dong-hoon" who sheds that armor and returns home is quite different. His most private spaces are not filled with grand symbols of power, but rather two cats, instant noodles, and zero cola.

He is what everyone recognizes as a devoted cat owner.

When he first opened Instagram in 2024, the subject of his first post was not the politician Han Dong-hoon. It was two cats: "Tani," with black fur, and "Yangyi," with long hair. Tani is a large cat, weighing nearly eight to nine kilograms.

He introduces Tani as a strong, large cat with surprisingly excellent athleticism. In contrast, Yangyi weighs just over four kilograms and was adopted from an animal shelter for abandoned cats. Though they differ in weight by a factor of two, these two rely on each other and get along well.

On a live broadcast, he spoke about the cats like this.

"Tani is large, but he looks after Yangyi and knows how to share treats." He added, "If Tani were just two or three times bigger, he would probably eat me." Though said in jest, his words carried deep affection for his pets.

When he lies down in bed after work, the two cats burrow to his side as if by agreement and settle down to sleep.

He confessed, "Watching the cats live carefree lives in free happiness makes me envious, and their simply being by my side when I am tired brings me great comfort."

No matter how important his position outside, the moment he opens the front door, he becomes an ordinary servant, feeding the bundles of fur and cleaning the litter box.

Behind the refined suit fit he typically wears, there are unspoken difficulties.

The reason he rarely wears black shirts is simple: "Cat hair sticks to it so much that it's too annoying to remove." In the way he laughs it off, saying that white hair from Yangyi is fatal on black clothes, we discover not the face of a perfectionist prosecutor, but that of a clumsy and tender "servant."

His tastes in food are so plain they border on elementary school palate. The Korean prosecution service is traditionally a place with strong drinking culture epitomized by "bomb shots." Within a culture where raising shots of soju with colleagues after all-night investigations was almost a ritual, Han Dong-hoon was an exception. He is unable to drink alcohol at all due to his constitution. Being congenitally lacking in alcohol-metabolizing enzymes, he would attend company dinners drinking cider or cola while still keeping his place at the table.

In the past, he once got caught up in the manga "Drops of God" and tried to drink fine wine, only to pass out immediately. It is well known that during a state dinner at the Yongsan Presidential Office, President Yoon Suk-yeol said, "Get me zero cola." Even the president knew and was considerate of his constitution. He spoke candidly during a live broadcast.

"I have no complaint about not being able to drink, but if I were born in my next life, I wonder if life might be somewhat more colorful if I could drink a bit."

The anecdote of him struggling on the way back after reluctantly sipping some makgeolli offered by elders he met after his victory in the Geumjeong by-election shows his human side. As a politician, it was difficult to refuse voters' goodwill. But his body was honest. His "soul food" is cup instant noodles.

His noodle preferences are specific: "Dosirak" and "Neoguri Spicy." The practicality of Dosirak noodles with their lid preventing broth from splashing, the warming taste of Neoguri with its spicy kick. Perhaps that flavor, which soothed his hunger during his prosecutor days when all-night investigations were routine, remains his greatest comfort. On a live broadcast, he revealed his own recipe, saying "a soft-boiled egg is the best with Neoguri."

His snack preferences are equally firm. When eating shrimp crackers, he sticks to his own method of mixing regular shrimp crackers with spicy ones.

When his energy dips, he reaches for banana-flavored milk. As someone who says "I've bought and worn my own clothes since childhood" with such conviction about his tastes, he pursues familiar and comfortable flavors over formality or fanciness when it comes to eating.

Cats, cup instant noodles, and zero cola. These are small but certain happinesses that allow Han Dong-hoon to step away from the complex and ruthless world of politics and return to being wholly himself.

Han Dong-hoon always emphasizes, "I will protect the very ordinary days of my fellow citizens." Perhaps the "ordinary day" he wishes to protect is not so different from his own peaceful evening hours, listening to his cats' purring as he empties a bowl of cup instant noodles after work.

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