Chapter 112
Chapter 112
Translation: Godtl
The days of being corporate zombies were over.
For Kim Du-yeong, and for the executives here as well.
Until now, even when they came to work, hadn't they all been living each day like corpses—days where it wouldn't be strange if they stripped off their suits tomorrow and walked away?
But now, for the first time in a long while, the office was brimming with energy.
"So, what's the situation?"
"After looking into it, the companies that acquired our divisions are in serious trouble. Back then, we dismantled and sold off the shipping business at the highest price the industry had ever seen, didn't we?"
"You're saying they overextended themselves to buy us out?"
"Yes. Most of them borrowed emergency funds from banks, but even that wasn't enough, so it seems they also tapped into other financial institutions."
There was a reason they had pushed themselves to such extremes.
Because at the time, the price had been justified—worth every penny they'd paid.
It wasn't just blind greed driving them.
Who could have possibly predicted it?
That in the 21st century, a pandemic would sweep across the entire world.
"As a result, all those companies are now on the verge of bankruptcy. Some have already been put up for auction."
"If we were to acquire them now, what would the price be?"
"Less than 30% of what we sold them for. It's no exaggeration to say their value has absolutely plummeted."
In short, the shipping divisions that had been sold at premium prices were now practically worthless.
"In fact, even if we took on all the debt those companies are carrying, the price would still be far cheaper."
"To that extent?"
"Yes. Word is spreading fast that the shipping industry is finished. With borders closing due to COVID and factories shutting down everywhere, there's nothing left for shipping to do. Yet the maintenance costs are still exorbitant. There's just no way to sustain it."
A chill ran down Kim Du-yeong's spine at that.
What if the European Union hadn't forcibly dismantled Gwangun Shipping?
Kim Du-yeong, true to form, would have kept acquiring shipping companies nonstop, buying up vessels until the operation grew too massive to sustain.
And then, if the pandemic had hit like this—what would have happened?
Just like the shipping firms now reduced to ruins, Gwangun Shipping might have suffered catastrophic damage and collapsed under its own weight.
"So, in the end... does this mean President Jeong Jin-ho was right again?"
"Yes. It's beyond astonishing—frankly, it's terrifying. Could President Jeong Jin-ho have really foreseen things to this extent?"
That, Kim Du-yeong didn't know.
Looking purely at the situation, it was the EU and nations worldwide that had forced the shipping divisions to split off—not Jeong Jin-ho's doing.
"But come to think of it, didn't President Jeong Jin-ho let go of the shipping business surprisingly easily? After all the effort we put into building it up. At the time, we all thought his behavior was strange too."
That was also true.
Kim Du-yeong had also wondered if Jeong Jin-ho was giving up too soon—without even putting up a fight.
"Do you think... it might have been intentional?"
"What do you mean?"
"That President Jeong Jin-ho knew things would turn out like this, so he deliberately pressured the UN contacts to make it happen. To make it look like the company had no choice but to split. That way, we could sell at an inflated price, riding on public sympathy, and then wait for a moment like this to—"
"Enough."
Kim Du-yeong let out an incredulous laugh.
"Now you're writing fiction. Why don't you just say our dear President Jeong released the virus himself?"
"It's just that the timing is so uncanny..."
"Drop it. Enough with the nonsense. Let's do what President Jeong said and focus on our jobs now, alright? We've all been resting long enough, haven't we? Just collecting paychecks with nothing to do. Time to clear the backlog. Let's burn the midnight oil for once."
Is there anything employees hate more than being told to work harder?
Yet here they were, grinning from ear to ear at the idea of pulling an all-nighter.
"Alright, alright. No time to waste. First, let's decide which companies we should reclaim as top priority. And you said there's absolutely no one looking to buy shipping firms now, right? We'll wait until they're completely parched, then swoop in with a single drop of water. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
After ushering the executives back to work, Kim Du-yeong let out a long sigh alone.
"He deliberately dismantled the shipping business...?"
The words one of the executives had spoken kept echoing in his head.
What if Jeong Jin-ho had really orchestrated this—pressured them into breaking up the shipping division precisely for this day?
"...Just how far ahead is President Jeong seeing?"
Kim Du-yeong swallowed dryly.
"Is... is this really the right move?"
"Honestly, I don't know anymore. We just have to follow orders."
The National Pension Service employees were in such high spirits that they might as well have been singing in celebration—their massive 700 trillion won short position had paid off spectacularly.
700 trillion transforming into 1,000 trillion—it was pure magic.
The greatest dopamine rush of their lives.
For the foreseeable future, the National Pension Service wouldn't have to worry about running dry.
With the crisis over and no more nail-biting tension, they assumed the entire 1,000 trillion would now be funneled into safe assets.
"Well, just like always, I figured we'd dump about 50% into bonds and park the rest in blue-chip stocks to sit tight. But now they're saying to throw everything into regular stocks? Didn't the experts predict prices would keep dropping, hitting -50% from here?"
Even Director Jo had assumed that after this insane gamble, the National Pension Service would revert to its old risk-averse self.
And the chairman, too, had seemed ready to unwind positions and shift funds into safe assets—until he got off the phone with President Jeong Jin-ho.
Then the orders changed: sweep up all the stocks currently hitting rock bottom.
"So, in the end, this is President Jeong's call again?"
"Pretty much. Hell, this whole insane 700 trillion short-selling play was his strategy to begin with. But I'd never speak ill of the man."
Jeong Jin-ho was practically a national hero.
He had saved future generations from a devastating financial reckoning.
The only regret was that they couldn't publicly credit him for it.
"But what if we lose it all this time? If the market really crashes another 50%, we're screwed. And now the chairman's even ordering us to secure shares off-market as fast as possible..."
When they'd built their short positions, they'd taken three months—steady, methodical, balancing speed with stability.
But this was different.
Dumping 1,000 trillion all at once would shake the market, so the directive was clear: secure shares off-exchange, fast.
"Is Gwangun betting the market will recover quickly, even after crashing through its mental support levels?"
There was a reason the markets had collapsed this hard.
A global pandemic—unforeseen by anyone—had wiped out every sector.
Bankruptcies snowballed, triggering the fastest stock market crash in financial history.
A record no one had ever seen before.
"But this isn't 100 trillion—it's a trillion won."
And instead of gradually building long positions over months, they were being told to secure them as fast as possible.
The problem? The one giving these orders was a stock market savant.
Which meant he knew exactly what 1,000 trillion represented.
And yet, he'd still given the command...
"Does that mean the market will rebound just as fast as it crashed?"
Honestly, he didn't even want to think about it.
His sanity had already been hanging by a thread since the moment they'd taken that 700 trillion short position.
"But the real problem starts now, doesn't it?"
"Huh?"
"The fact that our pension fund shorted 700 trillion is already spreading like wildfire in financial circles. You think other countries are just gonna sit back and let that slide?"
"..."
He was right.
A move of this scale couldn't stay under wraps.
And countries like the U.S. wouldn't just watch idly.
After all, the real terror of a nuke isn't the blast—it's the fallout.
＊＊＊
Trent felt like the universe was screwing him over.
Of all things...
A once-in-a-millennium global pandemic had to hit during his term?
Normally, he could just blame the last president for whatever mess cropped up, but this? No chance.
Before pointing fingers, he had to slam borders shut and stop this damn plague in its tracks.
And the people? They refused to listen—wearing masks, avoiding gatherings of four or more? Forget it.
Hell, some didn't even know what a mask was, let alone how to wear one.
"And now, while the world's suffering through this, I hear there are people who made billions off it?"
In a crash this brutal, there were always those who struck gold with lottery-like put options. Like the guys who made a killing after 9/11 betting on the right derivatives.
"But this time, it's a national institution?"
"Yes. The South Korean National Pension Service."
South Korea... South Korea, huh.
To Trent, South Korea was an important country.
There were ongoing issues regarding US military defense costs, and above all else, there was North Korea to consider.
Trent was currently playing the role of mediator between North and South Korea to improve their relations.
Not that he was actually trying to make them hold hands and sing kumbaya toward reunification or anything.
It was purely to boost his approval ratings—to achieve the legacy of being the peacemaking president who accomplished what no one else could: peace between the Koreas.
"And you're telling me they executed short selling on this scale? You expect me to believe that?"
But this was beyond ridiculous.
Seven hundred billion dollars in short selling?
"We also found the scale unbelievable at first, but over several months, if they gradually built positions across global markets, it wouldn't be impossible. They likely established positions in nearly every market—the US, Europe, Asia—and profited from it all."
That alone was shocking, but the real issue lay elsewhere.
"And it's now considered an established fact that Gwangun is behind all of this."
"Gwangun?"
It was a corporate name he'd been hearing a lot lately.
Especially among the chaebols.
"Gwangun's mysterious maneuvers trace back to China. A consortium there pressured Gwangun and seized control of the Tianjin Port project. Shortly after, the unexplained Tianjin Port explosion occurred, completely dismantling that consortium. Since then, Gwangun has become a core partner in China's Belt and Road Initiative."
"And China just let that happen?"
"Yes. That's the astonishing part. Rumor has it Gwangun had connections high up in the Chinese government, and the consortium made the fatal mistake of targeting them without realizing it. They were all purged."
That actually sounded plausible when it came to China.
Wasn't that a place where purges happened multiple times a day?
"The problem is, Gwangun predicted the oil price volatility, stockpiled in advance, and became a leader in the shipping industry. They acquired numerous shipping companies, establishing absolute dominance at sea. And their first target was Taiwan. They blatantly went after TSNC, collapsing the semiconductor market."
Trent remembered that too.
The fall of TSNC had sent shockwaves through the semiconductor industry.
"With TSNC gone, Kangsung seized control of the entire semiconductor market, and Nvidia was also shaken. Gwangun acquired AMC, secured market share with Kangsung's help, and—"
"That's when the server issues started too, wasn't it?"
"Yes. A joint operation between Gwangun and Kangsung."
"But why the hell did we let that slide?"
"Well... you've never been particularly fond of Nvidia, Mr. President. They supported the opposition during your campaign. Though, to be fair, most corporations did. On the other hand, Kangsung was our biggest supporter."
The political funds Kangsung had sent.
Gwangun had been behind that too.
"That's why we turned a blind eye to some of their moves. But when they took over the SNS and OTT markets, then systematically brought down Japan, France, and the UK, we realized the danger."
They even weaponized their overwhelming influence on social media to incite the Yellow Vest movement in France, forcing President Péron's government—which had tried to counter Gwangun—to its knees.
"So Hong Kong was their doing too?"
"Yes. Not content with collapsing financial markets by exploiting Brexit, they capitalized on Hong Kong's pro-democracy protests to trigger capital flight. Singapore, their biggest competitor, stayed out of it and took a massive hit—their markets were severely shaken."
As he listened to the report, Trent blinked dazedly.
Was this really something a single corporation could pull off?
If all of this was intentional, it would be a design surpassing even artificial intelligence.
"Gwangun's influence grew so vast that the EU moved to cripple their shipping operations."
"And even that was part of Gwangun's plan?"
"Yes. Judging by the outcome, Gwangun deliberately dismantled their shipping assets to sell them at a premium—only to buy them back at rock-bottom prices later."
Which meant Gwangun had anticipated the COVID pandemic too.
"You're not saying they caused COVID...?"
"We can't confirm that. The WHO still considers it a natural outbreak. There's speculation about the Wuhan lab, but the exact origin remains under investigation. What matters is that Gwangun made another fortune from this crisis."
"What about the National Pension Service?"
"It was probably just a smokescreen to hide their true identity. In other words... a shield. Those maniacs shorted hundreds of billions of dollars, after all. All the criticism will be directed at the National Pension Service, not Gwangun."
So they intended to come out completely unscathed to the very end.
"We should probably restrain them before Gwangun grows any larger."
"Even though they helped us? No—wait. Is there even any legal basis to punish them in the first place?"
"Well... it's true they executed massive short positions, but since they spread money across global markets, it's hard to argue they disrupted the markets. But we can always fabricate a pretext, can't we?"
Even if they had to manufacture a pretext, they needed to rein those bastards in.
For the first time in a while, Trent found himself agreeing with his advisors.
But then a thought suddenly struck him.
If these people were terrifying enough to orchestrate things to this extent... surely they must have anticipated the U.S. government stepping in?
***
When the chairman contacted me about unwinding our positions,
I briefly skimmed the stock market with my intuition.
The markets had always been scraping rock bottom.
But that day, instead of hitting bottom, a fantastical vision of the market springing up like a coiled spring flashed before my eyes.
And it was rising high—fast.
So I advised closing all positions and loading up on stocks according to the portfolio I specified.
"But that chairman really listens to our Jin-ho, doesn't he?"
"Well, after successfully shorting 700 trillion won, wouldn't you follow his every word?"
"Ha. True enough. Our Jin-ho practically saved future generations, didn't he? Hahaha."
My hyung burst into hearty laughter, though this wasn't exactly the time for it.
"So... just how bad is the situation?"
"From what I've heard, not just the EU but even the U.S. is scrutinizing the markets, trying to uncover the truth about the National Pension Service and our Gwangun."
"Is there anything legally problematic?"
"We didn't disrupt the markets by slowly building our positions. We didn't manipulate stock prices either. But given the sheer scale of 700 trillion won, they'll probably latch onto anything to bleed us dry."
Hyung silently nodded before turning his gaze toward me.
"Jin-ho. Don't you worry."
"Huh?"
"If things go south, I'll take the fall. You all were just following my orders."
"No. Hyung. What are you saying?"
"Looking at how things are unfolding... it's not looking good. Unless they have a scapegoat to burn, they won't let this slide."
Hyung was prepared to shoulder all the blame.
Just like the chairman of the National Pension Service.
But that was unacceptable.
'Isn't there any way out?'
So far, my intuition had steered us through many crises, but neither I nor my hyung had ever suffered for it.
Which meant there had to be at least one loophole this time too...
But finding it through intuition alone wasn't easy.
I had to assess the entire situation.
"By the way, I heard AstraZenon has already received funding from various countries and started vaccine production... while others are taking twice as long as us, right?"
"Ah, yes. That's correct, Vice President."
"Then, to avoid astronomical losses, countries will have no choice but to buy our vaccines, won't they?"
We had already completed Phase 2 clinical trials.
And they were a resounding success.
The results showed a 95% efficacy rate in suppressing COVID.
"Plus, according to WHO reports, even if other vaccines perform well, stabilizing the situation will take at least 3-4 years due to mutations. Until then, we'll have to keep supplying booster shots, won't we?"
"That's... right?"
"And by then, most governments will have changed hands, won't they?"
A strange shiver began creeping up from the soles of my feet.
"Then why not offer cheap vaccines to the countries targeting us as leverage for negotiations? We'll ensure the fastest, most stable vaccine supply—just don't touch us until the situation stabilizes."
"...?"
Before the vice president even finished speaking, the tingling shiver that had been confined to my feet surged through my entire body.
"So, Vice President... you're suggesting we use the vaccines to blackmail—"
"Not blackmail. Buying time. Their approval ratings have already bottomed out because of this crisis, so the next election will inevitably bring regime changes. By then, everyone will have forgotten, won't they?"
I silently stared at the vice president, who sipped his coffee nonchalantly after dropping that bombshell.
This year's employee of the year...
No. This year's executive of the year.