Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Meeting the Old Tiger
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Late at night.
Even after all the employees had clocked out, I stayed behind alone, grinding away at my work. The impending release of our new title was part of it, but the real driver was the report Jin Seol-hwa had delivered.
[Jack Ryden's third son, Matthew. Excellent prospects.]
[Future Distribution's succession unstable. High acquisition potential if targeted shrewdly.]
The first item on the agenda: Matthew, Jack Ryden's third son.
Intel said he was a big baseball fan, and if we could improve his condition during this clinical trial, it was the perfect chance to bring him over to our side.
'Teaming up with Jack Ryden would be like strapping wings on a tiger.'
If someone asked what politicians had to do with business?
Who knows.
Politicians wield near-absolute power during their terms. Especially when outside pressure mounts—they're the ones who can shut it down.
And Jack Ryden? He was an S-tier heavyweight in America.
US troops were stationed in Korea, Japan, you name it. Regular soldiers steered clear of politics, but in certain situations, they had every right to step in.
That's why we'd dodged so many coups back home.
Sure, the US military couldn't meddle in Korean politics—that'd be interference in internal affairs. But having USFK in your corner? It made enemies think twice.
Plus, Jack Ryden had visited Korea a year ago for an off-the-books summit with the president and prime minister.
'He's even in the running for America's next president.'
Already under fire in the press for "racial discrimination" over crackdowns.
Jack Ryden pulled overwhelming support from Black and white voters alike—a total cheat code.
At this rate, the White House within a decade wasn't out of the question.
'Hand this off to Jin Seol-hwa.'
She was crushing it. Made me proud.
If she ever came to Korea, I'd have to get her a gift.
The next item was surprisingly the family background of Yoo So-geum, the one I'd run into at the Ilseong Hotel.
'Future Distribution's succession in flux?'
I stared off at the distant mountains shrouded in darkness, deep in thought. That led me to the Future Group's family tree.
Sure enough, Future Distribution—spun off from the main affiliates—had no clear heir.
Chaebols stuck to primogeniture as a rule.
Back in the day, Korea had that heavy son-preference culture.
Sons over daughters.
Modern times had chipped away at the bias for most folks, but not in chaebol land.
The old guard still favored boys.
'Future Distribution has no sons.'
Yoo Kyung-soo had one originally.
He was the designated successor.
If not for that freak traffic accident...
'The culprit's inside Future.'
A big rig smashing into his path.
And the driver drunk?
Too neat.
The trucker went to prison, but the unease lingered.
Jin Seol-hwa's take: Dig hard into Yoo So-geum's drug mess and Yoo Kyung-soo's heir woes, and victory could come easy.
Lots of cracks showing.
With all these weak spots, he'd only survived this long because he was straight-up Future Group blood. Otherwise? Every rival would be circling.
Future Distribution commanded thirty percent of Korea's retail market.
Wholesale, retail, online sales, franchises, logistics, delivery—the works.
Distribution was the bedrock infrastructure, the most vital sector.
In the '90s, shopping malls exploded.
Conglomerates bled for monopoly control.
Now Future Distribution owned it lock, stock, and barrel, but back then? Pure Warring States chaos.
'Yoo Kyung-soo...'
The old-timer once dubbed a tiger in business circles.
Even if they joked he was now toothless.
Still a threat.
Final call: To swallow Future Distribution, boot the old man out.
Oil and water.
A grind till one dropped dead.
"President."
Im Yun-ah stepped into the office. Like me, she hadn't left yet.
Covered in cold sweat.
"What's wrong? You look awful."
"Call from Future Distribution."
"!"
Future Distribution?
Yoo So-geum's mess blowing up?
"Who called?"
Im Yun-ah's face tightened.
Her expression screamed trouble.
"Future Distribution's president, Yoo Kyung-soo."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Here we are."
Felt like an isolated island.
Sky-high walls you couldn't scale, clusters of buildings inside.
'A hanok in this day and age...'
Blending cutting-edge construction with timeless charm.
Polished wood exterior gleaming, built to shrug off a typhoon.
"Where you from?"
Middle-aged guy who answered the bell at the massive gate.
The estate manager, no doubt.
Chaebols and their live-in staff.
Hell, Im Yun-ah handled my chores.
"Appointment with President Yoo Kyung-soo."
"Ah! President Kim Do-jun. The master of the main house is waiting."
Trailing him deeper led to the sprawling main hall, dwarfing the rest. No ramshackle relic—this was hanok done right.
Money poured in waves.
'Pond the size of a field, crawling with koi.'
Not a handful.
Hundreds gliding, tails flicking gracefully.
Why elders loved koi: symbols of power, endurance, triumph.
Chaebols raised them for that climb to success. Ilseong Group rumors had a monster setup.
The main house was vast.
Room to play soccer, walls lined with antique art.
"Only invitees from here on."
He blocked Im Yun-ah.
Mind games?
Her bodyguard-secretary eyes locked on me, primed to take him down on command.
"Yun-ah, wait here."
"President, you sure?"
Why she asked: Enemy turf ahead.
Whatever.
Basement dweller turned player or not, Yoo was twice my age.
No fear needed.
"Yeah. I'll go solo."
"...Got it."
Spotted Yoo Kyung-soo right away.
Parked at the head of a luxury sofa setup.
I stared him down. No seat taken.
"Grab any spot."
"..."
You kidding?
Anywhere but top meant the foot of the table.
That screamed inferiority.
"Future Group's hospitality leaves much to be desired."
"!"
His eyebrow twitched.
"Cheeky kid."
Unfazed, I fired back at his irritation.
"Cheek got me this far. Business demands a hide thicker than steel, no?"
"Heh heh heh, such a mouth..."
"Hahaha, you don't look the part of some group reject nursing grudges. Elderly now—kick back, throw pots or something."
Sparks flew.
Him, Future Distribution president.
Me, Starlight CEO.
Kept DJ Investment in the Philippines and Selig stateside under wraps.
If he knew? Might foam at the mouth.
Total market cap nearing 100 trillion? No way he'd play me like this.
First strike landed.
Yoo rose slow, slid to the junior seat.
Yielded top spot. Couldn't play stubborn now.
Half an hour burned on seating alone.
"Fine, youth needs that fire. Impressive."
"Looks ain't enough. I back it up."
"You really think you can take me?"
"Yes. Give me time, and I'll have the chops to yank Future Distribution's sign down soon."
"..."
No brag.
Selig wraps ALS trials, floods Korea with cosmic cash. Even top-dog Ilseong sweats then.
Jin Seol-hwa's genius brain plus Wall Street's Olivia in tandem. God knows what chaos those two unleash here.
'Like dropping predators into a herbivore pen...'
Spoils roll in passively, but the fallout? Nightmarish to picture.
"Kim Do-jun, right?"
"Yes."
"Did some digging on you. Not bad. Hit a lucky streak? Cocky over one puny game studio."
"..."
"Ever hear of Ma Chun-dong?"
As if.
Public security's got him. Fate's sealed.
Creative accounting and fraud? Grave in China.
No slap on the wrist.
"One guy siccing public security? Illogical. Ruthless cleanup, though. What's your deal?"
Yoo had it twisted.
Jin Seol-hwa fed Ma to them.
PMC buddy I'd saved owed her—now central gov spook.
Pondering my move.
Then his curveball deal.
"I'll wipe this slate clean if you take our So-geum out once?"
"!"
What?
Me, on a blind date with Yoo So-geum?
This geezer off his rocker?
But no snicker here.
His play was crystal.
'Thinks he can gobble me up.'
Old ginger burns. Pure sly fox.