Sovereign Default (2)

"He's so slow..." I muttered. At this rate, I'd be a grandmother before he got here.

Ham Cheon-ho, the president of Cheonma Sangsa, still hadn't returned home even though midnight had long since passed. I had already taken his entire family hostage, so what was the point if the man of the house himself was late? I had rounded up the housekeeper and the other servants hours ago.

His wife and children, who returned home only after the night had grown deep, were promptly added to the hostage lineup, their names joining the list of leverage to force the president's hand.

How amusing. The president's wife had a decent enough face, but her personality was absolute trash. Perhaps because she had used her looks to marry up and compensate for her lack of actual ability, she was the type of person who went on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a shopping spree at a department store even as the country was going under and her husband's company was on the verge of bankruptcy.

The children were slightly better off. At least they were doing the best kids their age could do to prepare to inherit their father's business. The kids, roughly my age and fresh out of their cram schools in Daechi-dong, were immediately shoved by Pavel's intimidating presence and lined up as hostages one by one.

It was nearly three in the morning when Ham Cheon-ho finally returned. By then, even I was beginning to nod off. It didn't help that I hadn't fully adjusted to the jet lag yet.

"My lady, he has arrived," Pavel reported.

"...Oh, right. I wasn't sleeping!"

"Of course. Please, stand up."

Snapping awake at Pavel's voice, I looked in the mirror and adjusted my clothes. Ahem. Shall we get going? The target's eldest son, who had been staring at me, was shaking his legs uncontrollably. I had brought him along specifically to maximize the psychological impact of the hostage situation.

"Why? Are you scared of what might happen?"

"..."

The eldest son's silence wasn't because he was paralyzed with fear. It was simply because he had been crying so loudly and annoyingly that I had gagged him.

"There's really nothing to worry about. As long as your dad makes a rational decision, this big sister won't have to resort to anything extreme, okay?"

I meant it. With his family's safety on the line, there was no way he would defy me. If he did make such a foolish choice, well, I would just have to send them all on their way with a heavy heart.

The president was visibly startled when a massive, mixed-race brute greeted him at the door instead of the usual servants.

"Hey, you bastard! You speak Korean, don't you? Do you have any idea who I am?!"

Hmm. Perhaps "furious" was a more accurate description than "startled."

"..."

"What, you don't?! What kind of fucked-up situation is this...!"

Screaming at the top of his lungs, the prospective puppet president stormed into the study. But the moment he saw me sitting in his desk chair, his voice abruptly died in his throat.

"A girl...? A child...?"

How rude for a first meeting. I might be female, but I was far past the age where anyone could call me a child. Feeling a prickle of irritation, I gave Pavel a subtle nod.

Pavel immediately forced our target to his knees on the study floor. The man's emotions, which had shifted from anger to confusion upon seeing me, instantly dissolved into pure terror when his eyes fell upon his eldest son—bound and gagged in the very chair Ham Cheon-ho himself had likely been sitting in just yesterday.

I pushed myself up from the leather chair with a soft grunt and grumbled.

"What took you so long? Were you staging a filibuster with your board of directors?"

"Is it money you want? There must be a reason you're doing this!"

He was briefly startled by the fact that I spoke fluent Korean, but having his own flesh and blood held hostage quickly made his attitude much more cooperative. And by "cooperative," I meant he had at least stopped hurling profanities. While this was a massive improvement, it would still be best to completely break his spirit before we got down to the actual negotiations.

I raised my hand, pointing a finger right next to Ham Cheon-ho's ear—

"Bang!"

—and fired a Magic Bullet.

Boom! The Magic Bullet grazed the prospective puppet's ear and slammed directly into the wall behind him.

"...?" The target looked around in utter bewilderment. He had felt a burning sensation whip past his ear, yet there wasn't a single scratch on his body—nor on the wall where the loud impact had just echoed.

It made sense, of course. This was a Magic Bullet designed solely for combat against other mages, meaning its physical force had been minimized to the absolute limit. It was meant to damage magical barriers; when it struck ordinary matter, it simply dissipated. Even if it hit a living human body, it would do little more than lightly rattle their soul.

I gave a bright, cheerful smile, casually waving my hand to disperse the thick residue of mana left in the air, just as I had done after picking the lock on his front gate.

Still looking dazed, the idiot glanced back and forth between Pavel and me, seemingly realizing that I was the one in charge.

Unlike dealing with that other idiot in Belfast who could only stare at my body, there was no need to hide my authority this time. The first move to establish dominance was complete.

Keeping my smile in place, I dismissed Ham Cheon-ho's assumption about wanting money.

"Hmm... not really? I mean, in the grand scheme of things, you could say I want money, but that's not my primary goal."

"Then what on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠earth..."

"Well, money will change hands... but, ugh, it's a bit complicated to explain."

Since adjusting the shares would inevitably require some form of cash flow, it was hard to deny it entirely. Even if it was an over-the-counter transaction, the principle remained the same.

But since our prospective puppet president wouldn't suffer any losses, it was ultimately a win-win situation. He would make money, and I would easily expand my influence over Korean society.

Sure, there was the minor, trivial detail of holding his family hostage to force the deal, but if the end result was good, then all was well, right?

I exerted my majestic authority as a major shareholder upon the president kneeling before me.

"Shall we start by convening a board meeting? We have quite a few major shareholders present in this room right now. Let's have a private chat—just us, without any other shareholders or meeting minutes."

"A board... meeting...?"

He was still slow on the uptake. I kindly introduced myself for the target's benefit.

"Ah, where are my manners? I'm the second-largest shareholder, Ka Ye-rin. And my friend here, who just pinned you to the floor, is the third-largest shareholder, Choi Ba-ul."

Of course, neither Pavel nor I personally held all those shares. As individuals, we only owned up to the limit that avoided public disclosure requirements. The rest was held by shell companies registered in the British Virgin Islands. God save the Queen, indeed.

In any case, thanks to the weakening Korean won and the skyrocketing investment returns from our head of finance, if we pooled the shares of all those shell companies, our organization could easily claim to be the second or third-largest shareholder. If he didn't like it, he should have had more cash on hand.

However, it seemed our dear president was curious about something else entirely.

"Excuse me, but... your real name..."

"Oh? It's an alias, obviously. You don't need to know my real name, so don't worry about it."

Every transaction in Korea would be conducted under borrowed names or this puppet's name anyway. Of course, if he worked like a dog and proved his worth, I might be willing to share the name 'Yerina Bronska' with him, just as I had with that IRA pig.

The profit we would reap from Korea during this foreign exchange crisis would provide a shadow for me and the organization to operate in. It would be perfect if we could establish a foothold for multi-faceted operations, both economically and socially.

With that hope in mind, I channeled Charm into my gaze and locked eyes with him.

Now, Ham Cheon-ho would be utterly unable to refuse my demand for this private board meeting.

Since Charm wasn't some magical mind-control app, the target still seemed intensely curious about how just two people had managed to bind and gag over a dozen servants and his entire family. He looked as if he wanted to ask at any moment, but the sight of his eldest son held captive kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Now, are you going to sit at the negotiating table or not? Just so you know, if you refuse, our next meeting won't be called a negotiation."

"I-I'll do it...! What... what do you want me to do?!"

"Before that, a small demonstration."

If he was that curious, there was no harm in answering one of his questions. Using a faint thread of telekinesis, I lifted the president's briefcase, which had been discarded on the floor, and brought it over to me.

"How...?"

The reaction of a normal human witnessing the supernatural for the first time was always the same. That look of wondering if it was some kind of trick was exactly what made being a mage so thrilling. Suppressing my rising sense of superiority, I answered his unspoken question while delivering a warning.

"I wouldn't get any funny ideas if I were you. The moment you try anything, I can strangle you to death anytime, anywhere. You don't think a briefcase is the only thing I can lift, do you?"

"..."

"I want an answer, not silence. I could always let you live and take it out on your family instead."

"I understand...! I swear... I will never, ever betray you!"

Satisfied, I kept the target on his knees and began rummaging through his briefcase. I needed to see what he had brought back from his marathon session with the other directors.

Since it was a trading company, most of the documents outlined plans to find a breakthrough through exports. Naturally, when exchange rates went wild, export companies thrived. The problem was that the exchange rate hadn't just gone wild—it had completely shattered.

It was a generic plan anyone could have come up with, and consequently, it offered no decisive solution. It would merely delay their inevitable bankruptcy and ruin. Since they weren't a massive conglomerate deemed "too big to fail," they couldn't expect a government bailout either.

"...Huh?"

It didn't take long for me to realize my assumption was wrong. Amidst the stack of internal company documents, I found a paper stamped with the official seal of the South Korean government. The stamp clearly marked the document as classified. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Where on earth did he get his hands on this?

While it outlined a reasonably logical plan, a different detail made me tilt my head in confusion.

Uranium...?

What on earth is this supposed to mean...?

Filled with doubt, I flipped past the government document and read the internal company memo attached behind it.

Only then did the source of my strange suspicion click. In this timeline, where the armistice line had been drawn just before Pyongyang and Wonsan, developing the uranium mines in Hwanghae-bukto was a natural outcome. Mining uranium didn't automatically mean developing nuclear weapons, either. There were plenty of non-nuclear states that exported uranium ore. Besides, nuclear programs weren't something you could easily hide. In my previous life, how long had North Korea or Iran managed to keep theirs a secret?

But what bothered me most was the historical fact that South Korea's former dictator had once tried to develop nuclear weapons behind America's back, only to be shut down. Although that ambition had naturally died out after a beast resembling a jaguar pulled the trigger, in this twisted timeline, the justification for this country to pursue its own nuclear weapons program once again was more than sufficient.

Piecing all these facts together, a single, chilling realization ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crystallized in my mind.

South Korea is hiding a nuclear program.