Seeing the Future (2)

Korea’s number-one conglomerate: the Seoseong Group.

And from Seoseong had branched the Myeongseong Group and the Yuseong Group.

For a time the public had spoken of Seoseong, Myeongseong, and Yuseong in a single breath — the Beomseong conglomerates — and envied them for it.

That glory was long past now.

At some point, troubled affiliates had begun to multiply inside the Yuseong Group. The firm that underwrote their corporate bonds was Yuseong Securities. Yuseong Securities had dressed those junk bonds up as sound investments and sold them to the public.

That was the whole of the Yuseong Securities fraud, in a nutshell.

Was what I experienced in that dream real?

He needed to verify it before he met his uncle. But getting at internal documents is impossible. He held no official authority, and even in the dream his uncle had kept him from anything that mattered.

So he simply cross-checked the public financials and the bond-issuance records available online. That was enough. His goal wasn’t to expose the fraud; it was only to confirm whether the dream had been true.

And then—

“……It matches exactly.”

Every detail he had seen in the dream lined up with what he found in reality. Which meant the details of his own becoming the scapegoat might come true as well.

“I may actually have seen the future.”

What he had to do was clear.

Cut Yuseong Securities loose.

A few days later, Lee Jaseung went to Yuseong Group headquarters to see his uncle. He took out his phone, started a recording app, and opened the door to the chairman’s office.

“Uncle. You asked for me.”

“Ah, yes. Jaseung. Sit down.”

They sat facing each other on the sofa. Chairman Lee Jeonghwan asked,

“How have you been lately? Holding up all right?”

“I’m managing. Between preparing the inheritance paperwork I haven’t had a moment to spare. It’s more complicated than I expected.”

“Of course it is. With your parents gone so suddenly like that…… The grief must be heavy. Take care of yourself — body and mind. Your parents will rest easier knowing you’re well.”

While the formalities passed between them, Jaseung watched Jeonghwan with unhurried eyes.

No sign of suspicion yet……

Just an ordinary uncle fretting over his nephew. So what if he went straight to the point?

“What was it you wanted to discuss about Yuseong Securities?”

“You’re aware that succession work is starting across the business community these days?”

Jaseung nodded. The chaebols had begun handing management over to the third generation.

“Yes. My friends have been jumping onto the front lines of management as well.”

“Exactly. A full-scale generational shift is coming. Our Yuseong Group needs to prepare as well. You should start receiving some management training yourself.”

Plausible enough.

Yuseong Group had grown on the back of its steel business. The parent company, Yuseong Steel, would naturally go to the official heir — the eldest son. But what about the other affiliates? Yuseong Securities, for instance.

“I intend to leave Yuseong Steel to my son. But as you know, I only have the one boy. He needs someone who can stand beside him and help run the group. I’d like you to take charge of Yuseong Securities. With my son on steel and my nephew on the money, I wouldn’t have to worry about the next generation.”

There was nothing strange in the words themselves. A traditional cousin-management structure.

“And you’ve already worked in finance, haven’t you? Come into the group and take the securities arm. Your résumé is perfect for it. No one will object if you step in as CEO.”

Graduate from a top university, earn an MBA, put in time at a foreign financial firm, then return to take over a financial affiliate. The textbook career path.

The logic itself is airtight.

Jeonghwan’s proposal was reasonable from every angle, and it matched the classic chaebol succession playbook. If Jaseung hadn’t seen the future, he would have accepted without a second thought.

“I’m not sure. I’m not interested in Yuseong Securities.”

Jeonghwan’s eyebrows lifted a fraction.

“What do you mean, you’re not interested in Yuseong Securities?”

“I’m going to leave the Yuseong Group and build my own business.”

Jeonghwan’s eyes shifted — subtle, but unmistakable. He leaned forward and coaxed, voice smooth.

“Jaseung. Your parents wanted you to come into the group and carry on the family business. That was the last conversation I had with my brother. If you take Yuseong Securities, your position in the group will be secure. You should honor their wishes.”

A faint smile touched Jaseung’s mouth. Already dragging his parents into it. Knowing what he knew, the man’s impatience was transparent.

“That’s odd. Father always told me to go my own way. You wouldn’t have mixed up who you were talking to, would you?”

“Of course not.”

Jeonghwan fell silent for a moment, then began tapping the table slowly with one finger.

“Your inheritance process isn’t finished yet, is it? There are tax issues, valuation issues…… Without the group’s support, it’ll be a hard fight. If you turn this opportunity down, no one inside the group will stand behind you.”

“Ah…… So this is a threat?”

“A threat?”

Jeonghwan laughed.

“No, Jaseung. I’m just telling you how things are. You know what this world is like. Without the Yuseong Group, you’re nothing.”

“That’s true.”

Jaseung nodded calmly. In the future he had already kicked Yuseong Group aside once, and paid for it by being driven into the dirt. He knew exactly how merciless that bottom could be. Which was why, this time, he didn’t hesitate at all.

A group I’ve already thrown away once — I can throw it away twice.

“Then I’ll renounce the inheritance.”

“……?”

The too-casual tone made Jeonghwan late to grasp what he meant.

“……What did you say?”

The shares Jaseung stood to inherit came to roughly one percent. It didn’t sound like much — but at current market value it was worth two hundred billion won. An absurd sum to simply walk away from.

For the first time, Jeonghwan’s voice shook.

“What are you talking about? Renounce that?!”

“There are tax issues, the valuation is giving me a headache, and you say the group won’t support me. What else am I supposed to do? I’ll just give it up.”

Handing the man’s own words back to him, Jaseung stood.

“Find someone else for Yuseong Securities.”

Back at the penthouse, Jaseung cleared every inheritance document off his desk. The inheritance wasn’t what mattered now. Cutting cleanly was.

Dump every share. Liquidate every Yuseong Group asset I hold.

Financial products the group had created, real estate, art — anything with the Yuseong name on it had to go. He could not afford any entanglement with a group about to detonate a financial scandal. And once the scandal broke, every asset’s value would crater; better to sell before that.

Luckily I haven’t inherited yet, so it’s easy to unwind.

Inheritance was hard. Renouncing it was simple. A few forms, and he could sever himself cleanly from Yuseong Group.

After instructing his lawyer of his intent to renounce, Jaseung sank into the living-room sofa. His mind was crowded.

“……It was the future.”

What he had seen was the real future.

“When did it start?”

He traced the memory. After his parents died in the plane crash, he thought. At first he had woken in the night and assumed it was a nightmare. Looking back, though, the pattern was unmistakable. The day he saw the future was always a Friday, and the time he woke was always three in the morning.

“Friday, three a.m.”

A time he knew well. The hour his parents’ plane had gone down.

“Does that hour open the door to the future?”

He would have to check.

Friday before dawn. Jaseung deliberately stayed awake, seated at the desk in his study. Two fifty-nine and fifty-seven seconds. The wall clock above the display case of carefully arranged rubber balls ticked.

Fifty-eight seconds.

A change of pressure in his ears, the way it felt when a plane took off. Time seemed to stretch.

Fifty-nine seconds.

His sense of reality blurred, as if sinking underwater. And then—

Lee Jaseung entered the future.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking at the study.

Nothing’s different?

I scanned the room. Everything was as it should be. The hundred-million-won desk designed by George Nakashima. The table lamp imported straight from France. And—

Ah.

Something had changed. The display case that occupied one wall was different.

“My collection……”

The rubber balls of every design I had gathered from around the world — the art pieces I sometimes used as stress balls — were all gone. In their place, plain books stood packed tight on the shelves.

I let out a dry laugh.

At least I can tell which side is the future.

I took out my phone and checked the calendar. The moment I saw the date, a pleased smile settled at the corner of my mouth.

“One year ahead.”

That settled it. Every Friday at three in the morning, I entered the future.

More precisely, I possess my future self — but still.

The calendar held appointments my future self had recorded.

The Hannam-dong residence was Chairman Lee Jeonghwan’s house.

I made a dinner appointment at Uncle’s house? Why?

The moment I tried to recall, the memories my future self held poured into my consciousness — a strange sensation, another man’s past settling into place as if it were mine. Before long the memories sharpened.

— After I refused Yuseong Securities, Uncle had been furious, but he hadn’t abandoned the plan.

— He had tried to pin the financial fraud on the CEO. The CEO had chosen to blow the whistle instead, and the financial authorities had opened an investigation.

So Uncle ended up indicted. Still free on bail for now — but that won’t last.

Politicians needed to soothe the public. Prosecutors needed results. The public wanted punishment. Uncle was destined for custody, the same way I once had been in another future.

Which was why tonight at eight the Yuseong family was gathering at his residence — to decide the group’s direction.

I smiled. This future suited me rather well.

The future has changed.

The place that had been mine was now occupied ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠by my uncle. Kicking Yuseong Securities aside a few days ago had rewritten what was coming.

And that made me curious.

Then what becomes of Yuseong Group itself?

I arrived at the residence at eight-thirty. Familiar cars already filled the lot; everyone else was there. The housekeeper who had worked for my uncle since I was a child opened the door.

“Good heavens, you’re a full half hour late. The chairman was asking for you……”

“It took a little longer to get here.”

“Go on in. Everyone else is already here — they’re gathered in the study.”

I nodded with a short smile. I had lost track of time digging into what had happened to Yuseong Group over the past year. News articles and financial statements told the story: the group’s finances were dire.

Debt-to-equity ratio of six hundred percent.

An insane number. Two hundred percent was already a warning light; this was triple that.

Yuseong Securities had been the oxygen tank keeping them breathing.

And that oxygen tank had been blown apart by the fraud. The group was gasping, pale, without it. What would the end look like?

I opened the study door.

The family was already seated inside — cousins, my younger uncle, my aunts and their husbands. Worry and calculation mixed on every face. From the seat of honor, Uncle still held his authority and scolded me for it.

“You’re late. Everyone else was on time. The youngest one shows up last.”

Ordinarily I would have bowed an apology and taken the lowest seat. Instead I began to walk a slow circuit of the study.

Bewildered stares followed me. Coughs rose here and there. I didn’t care.

This isn’t reality.

That fact gave me freedom. Here, nothing I did mattered. I could crack the safe and read the files. I could rifle the drawers for burner phones. At the extreme, I could kill everyone in this room and never face a charge — the moment I woke, none of it would have happened.

So where should I look?

The study where Uncle’s power was concentrated. And within it, the place where the most critical information would be condensed—

The desk.

My wandering steps brought me naturally to it. Catching where my gaze had landed, Uncle slammed his armrest.

“Sit down this instant. Stop disrupting the meeting.”

The fluster in his voice was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠almost audible. Interesting. What was on that desk that made him react like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that?

I smiled.

“Shall I?”

And without hesitation I sat myself on the edge of the desk.

Low cries broke out around the room.

“Lee Jaseung!”

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Throw that bastard out. Father! Why did you even call him here?!”

I ignored them and scanned the papers strewn across the surface. Most were legal documents and financial statements, Korean mixed with English. Then one caught my eye.

The instant I reached for it, Uncle shot to his feet. His chair toppled backward with a dull crash. For a man his age, the speed was startling.

“Put that down at once. This isn’t like you — what’s gotten into you today?!”

At the same moment, the world rattled. The lights flickered. The landscape painting on the wall began to warp. A glass trembled, grinding out an ugly squeal.

I looked around. Everyone else was acting normally; I alone seemed to sense ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the wrongness.

Not much time.

I flipped straight to the last page and checked the summary. Almost simultaneously Uncle snatched the papers from my hands.

But I had already read them.

“Yuseong Group… dissolved?”

I saw Uncle’s face harden. The relatives stared at us with wide eyes. Clearly they hadn’t known either.

“Ah. So it was a secret.”

Well. Too late now. I’d already read it.

In that instant, the world collapsed.

Lee Jaseung opened his eyes back in reality. Future memory and present sensation tangled together, and a wave of dizziness hit him. He pressed his temples lightly with his fingers and steadied himself.

Three in the morning.

It felt like I was gone a long time, but no time has passed.

He waited for his head to clear and looked around. The study. And on the display case, his art pieces sat exactly as they should. The rubber ball resting dead center, without a millimeter of error, settled something in his chest.

He walked to the case, picked up a ball, and tossed it lightly, catching it again. The solid weight in his palm restored his grip on the real.

“Dissolution of Yuseong Group……”

He recalled the contents he had only glimpsed at the end. A document premised on dismantling the group. Proof that his uncle was seriously considering it.

“First time since the IMF crisis. If you want to leave a mark on history, I suppose you have to do it Uncle’s way.”

After the great conglomerates like Hanbo and Daewoo were broken up during the IMF years, “chaebol group dissolution” had become a forbidden phrase in Korean business. Who would have imagined it? Uncle himself had surely meant to keep it secret until the absolute last moment.

Which meant—

This is information only I have.

Yuseong Group’s creditors, its trading partners, its executives and employees — even the relatives — none of them knew. A bomb no one else had heard tick. The group’s current market capitalization stood at twenty trillion won. News that a conglomerate of that size was coming apart would send a tsunami through the financial markets.

It had to be used for something of equal value.

Jaseung rolled the ball under his fingers and thought. Yuseong Group dissolves. What happens then?

Yuseong Steel, Yuseong Securities, Yuseong Capital, Yuseong Construction…… Affiliates will hit the market in bulk. Sold all at once, they’ll go for far less than their asset value.

In a corporate fire sale, discounts of fifty to sixty percent off market value weren’t unheard of for a group this size.

In which case—

There will be sellers. There will be buyers. There will be goods. A market will form.

The moment the thought completed itself, Jaseung saw with perfect clarity what he should take in place of the inheritance he had renounced.

The market that Yuseong Group’s dissolution would create.

If the group is going under anyway……

The corner of his mouth lifted.

“Maybe I should sell Yuseong Group myself.”