Chapter 193
Chapter 193
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 193
Chapter Title: A Flower Blooms Amid the Ashes
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A flower blooms amid the ashes.
Before long, the car was pulling into Busan's industrial park, crowded with gray factories.
The unfamiliar scent of the sea mingled with the smell of iron, seeping through the cracks in the window.
That's when Han Yura, resting her chin in her hand as she looked at me, asked,
"But if the subcontractors refuse to deliver... is that going to be a problem? They still have to supply the contracted products, and some have year-long deals, right?"
"You're right. Contracts have to be honored."
I agreed readily, and Han Yura gave me a puzzled look.
I smiled at her.
"We'll deliver the parts specified in the contract, on the specified date, at the specified quality. Completely honestly. But everything else? Gone."
"What do you mean?"
"The relationship between Taesung and its subcontractors isn't just on paper. It stands on an invisible power dynamic of 'A' and 'B.' We're breaking those invisible rules."
I counted on my fingers as I explained our real battle plan to her.
First, eliminate all the unpaid labor disguised as 'customary practice.'
"Taesung suddenly demands night-shift production for 'urgent orders'? In the old days, we'd cave. Us? We'll reply, 'Send over the contract for overtime pay first.'"
"They demand a sudden design change? We'll hit back with, 'Then let's renegotiate the delivery date.' From now on, we charge ironclad prices for everything we used to do for free under the guise of tradition."
Second, legal slowdowns using 'quality' as a weapon.
"If the contract specifies a quality tolerance of '5% error margin,' we'll deliver at exactly 4.9%."
"It'll barely pass muster, but it'll subtly spike defect rates on Taesung's final assembly line. Why the defects? We just followed the contract. Can they prove otherwise?"
Third, and most crucially: amplifying 'supply chain risk.'
"This is the key. Credit rating agencies fear 'future uncertainty' more than immediate cutoff."
"The owner of a subcontractor supplying Taesung's core parts suddenly becomes the hostile 'Kim Cheolsu'? What happens next year, or the year after, when contracts expire? They'll have no choice but to deem Taesung's supply chain highly unstable. That single judgment slashes their credit rating."
Han Yura grasped the true meaning of my explanation and asked,
"So, you're going to tank Taesung's credit rating?"
"Yeah. Everything we've done so far wasn't about dropping their stock price—it was about dragging down their credit rating itself."
I answered matter-of-factly.
Stock prices? Honestly, if I sat at a computer and really tried to manipulate charts,
cutting all of Taesung Group's subsidiaries to a tenth of their current value in a year would be child's play.
That brute-force approach wasn't my style.
The car slowed as it entered the industrial park entrance. Looking at the rundown factory buildings, I said to Han Yura,
"Alright then. Shall we go create the first blood clot to block that old fox's veins?"
At my words, Han Yura looked at me and asked,
"You really think turning just this one factory into a point of 'resistance' can take down that massive old fox?"
I flashed her a sly grin.
"This one factory? It's nothing. It's just a sample to show the 'symptoms' of the disease."
I pointed first at the factory outside the window, then toward Seoul.
"Right now, Choi Yang's spreading rumors of 'pro-Japanese traitors' in Paju, splashing filth on the old fox's face. That's 'reputational risk.' It's a cancer cell smashing their ESG ratings and sparking boycotts to erode sales."
"And here in Busan, starting with this factory, we'll poke at their veins. Trigger 'supply chain risk.' We don't even need to cut deliveries outright. Just use contracts as an excuse for slowdowns, nitpick everything, and plant the idea that 'this company could disrupt production anytime.'"
I finally revealed the heart of this grand scheme.
"A company with a trashed reputation and unstable supply chain. You think credit raters will leave their grade alone? No. When the rating drops? Interest rates spike. Borrowing gets hellish. Especially that 2 trillion won corporate bond maturing at year-end. Think they can roll it over?"
Only then did Han Yura's eyes light up with fierce understanding.
"They can't. They'd have to cough up 2 trillion in cash, and that old man doesn't have it. So in the end, they'll have to dump prime assets at fire-sale prices."
I nodded in satisfaction.
She was the perfect partner.
"Exactly. That old bastard Cheon Myeonghwan will have to sell off the 'power' he's built, piece by piece, with his own hands."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Kya, true Busan man! So cool, man."
After a few rounds of push and pull, I inwardly admired the president's back as he stamped the 15 billion won factory contract without hesitation.
Clean, straightforward business—no dragging his feet.
As we exited the factory gate, a hot sea breeze blasted us.
Walking toward the car Lee Soohee had waiting, Han Yura adjusted her sunglasses and asked,
"So, what's next? Straight back to Paju?"
"........."
I looked up at the unfamiliar Busan sky in silence for a moment.
She couldn't possibly know what that brief silence meant.
Han Yura seemed to write off my complicated thoughts as mere fatigue or whimsy, clicking her tongue.
"Dumbass, let's go... Eat some pork bone stew or whatever."
I shot back instantly at her words, as if I'd been waiting.
"You said you wanted to eat."
"You fucking idiot."
As always, her curse marked the end of our conversation.
We slid side by side into the car door Lee Soohee held open.
Without a word of question, Lee Soohee drove to the most famous pork bone stew joint nearby.
The dingy restaurant was thick with steam, boiled pork smells, and thick Busan dialect chatter.
Han Yura and I took a corner table and ate our stew in silence.
Lee Soohee ate at a nearby table, vigilance unbroken.
"So, heading to Paju for real now?"
Han Yura asked casually after draining her bowl.
I stared down at my empty stone pot.
A 15 billion won factory.
Taesung's credit rating.
All these grand plans...
I had to admit it to myself.
They were all excuses.
I'd come to Busan to see 'Mom' under the pretext of work.
Acknowledging that cleared the tangled calculations cluttering my head like magic.
I stood, paid the bill, and left the restaurant.
Back in the car, I didn't hesitate anymore.
"Yura."
"What."
"Head back to Paju with Lee Soohee. I've got some business to handle first."
Han Yura glanced at me, then smirked and slipped on her sunglasses.
She didn't pry into my 'business' excuse.
"Whatever you say~~"
She drawled in that teasing, elongated tone of hers.
I got out of the car, and she said nothing more.
That was our way.
The car carrying Han Yura and Lee Soohee pulled away, leaving me alone again.
I pulled out my phone from my pocket, checked a saved address, and hailed a taxi.
It had been 25 years since our first meeting. This was the second.
The taxi stopped in front of a peeling three-story apartment building.
Damp air, heavy with the salt of the nearby sea, enveloped me.
I sent the taxi off and stood before the rusty iron gate.
Unit 202. Ring the bell? Knock? Or...
Just turn back now?
A whirlwind of thoughts raced through my mind.
As I hesitated there for ages, a faint singing voice drifted from beyond the firmly shut door.
'...Life is now, amor fati~!'
A child's voice.
But so familiar, achingly familiar.
The voice of my most beautiful child in the world, belting out trot at eight years old with perfect pitch.
Why was the angel's voice that should be in Paju coming from here?
In that instant, every doubt vanished from my head.
I raised my hand without thinking and pounded hard on the rusty iron door.
Thud, thud, thud!
Rustling sounds came from inside, and moments later, a click as the door opened.
Go Yuna.
My sassy little sister's face scowled at me like I was a nuisance.
"Oh, you're here? Sis is inside."
"........."
Damn that wife of mine...
Regretting the 'Busan business trip' excuse I'd muttered that early morning as I left the Paju house, I stepped inside.
In that brief moment of taking off my shoes, the scene before me froze me in place.
In the middle of the living room, Haneul was joyfully singing trot to a phone accompaniment.
And filming her with eyes full of the world's purest adoration was my wife, Yoon Chaewon.
Her smile turned toward me.
As if she'd known from the start I'd come here, it was the most natural, serene smile.
"Oh, you're here?"
"Daddy~~!"
Haneul spotted me at the same time and toddled over on tiny feet, latching onto my waist.
I instinctively wrapped my arms around her back.
The familiar, sweet scent from my child.
And beyond that.
My child, cradling her newborn by the sea—'that woman,' my mother—gazed at me awkwardly.
"...Um.... You're here?"
A cracked, hesitant voice.
I couldn't respond.
My gaze turned to my wife, Yoon Chaewon, smiling calmly at me amid it all—the architect of this moment.
No, fuck...
Is there any other woman in the world who'd drag her husband into self-imposed exile like this?