Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Changing Times (1)
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Even if I had devised the most brilliant plan...
It was still a plan that would only shine with the passage of time.
I busied myself setting traps while leisurely biding my time.
And so, time passed since Yoo Jin-cheol's death... and I turned eight.
January 3, 1985. The third day of the new year.
"Hoo..."
I walked slowly through the snow-blanketed field, my mittens on. The streets of Sinchon were cluttered with Christmas tree decorations that hadn't been taken down yet, and the air was thick with the lingering vibe of the New Year.
My height had grown a bit over the past year, but my cheeks were still chubby. The ever-smiling mask over my cute yet melancholic face had become even more natural.
My speech had smoothed out, and it was easier to play the fool with feigned innocence. Now that my brain's capacity had improved so much, I'd even picked up all sorts of trivia from my past life that I hadn't known before.
"Ah, Uncle. Long time no see."
I flashed that mask brightly and bowed my head to the man before me.
"Yeah. Happy New Year. You've grown a year older too."
Kim Hae-ik, the Senior Presidential Secretary for Economic Affairs, said with an amused expression.
"Hehe. I'm eight now too. Come March, I'll be going to elementary school, right? It's so weird."
It really was weird. The thought of going back to elementary school was off-putting, but the novelty outweighed it.
I was the daughter of a chaebol family, after all. School life wouldn't be hard for me.
"It's nice seeing you act your age for once. Don't get too buried in adult affairs—go out, make some friends. It's not good for a kid's emotional development."
"Ugh, I've heard that plenty. Stop it, Uncle. It hurts my heart. You know why, right? I'm too smart to make friends. Is that why you came to Sinchon?"
I shrugged playfully.
The Sinchon streets, with Yonsei's Baekyang-ro visible in the distance, were packed with college students on winter break.
"...That's not the only reason. I did want to show you the university... but no. Let's just walk."
Tap, tap.
The middle-aged man's steps were slow yet quick, while the child's hurried gait was eager yet lagging. I swatted at the snowflakes drifting from the sky and spoke up.
"1984's already last year. Good thing the world's still worth living in."
I remembered Nam June Paik's [Good Morning, Mr. Orwell] being broadcast live. It was pretty cool.
-Thud.
"Whoa!"
Kim Hae-ik's foot must've caught on a stone; he stumbled and lost his balance for a moment. I quickly supported him and asked,
"You okay?"
He whispered quietly into my ear.
"KSIA agent's tailing us. Watch your words."
"...!"
I swallowed hard.
The Korea Security Intelligence Agency—later to become the National Intelligence Service—wielded near-absolute power under the dictatorship. They even tortured congressmen.
Why they had a tail on him... well, of course. High officials were always under surveillance.
I just hadn't noticed because we'd usually talked at Grandfather's house.
'Gotta drop the 1984 jokes.'
George Orwell was a famous communist critic, and <1984> slammed dictatorships.
To test my hunch, I casually struck up conversation as if I hadn't heard a thing.
"Watch your step, sheesh. Not exercising much these days? You're out of shape. Time to retire?"
=Are things politically rough for you lately?
"Haha. Just a slip. My joints are acting up, but I'm not that bad."
=It's fine. Par for the course under a dictatorship.
Hmm. Guess he's okay then.
I steered clear of politically sensitive topics, picking my words carefully.
"How's work lately? Must be tough with year-end stuff."
"Same old. Inflation headaches, debating which industries to nurture."
"Semiconductors are the future, in my view. Heavy industry has its place as a bridge, but high-tech development should be priority one, right?"
"Asking for funding?"
I nodded with a beaming smile.
"Yes."
"Heh, no private favors."
It wasn't about prying eyes. He was the type who wouldn't take requests regardless.
"Aw, too bad. But it's true, isn't it?"
Kim Hae-ik nodded reluctantly.
"Can't argue that. Who knew Daeha Electronics would skyrocket? How many people did they burn through?"
In the original history, he died before they made 64K DRAM, so his view on semis had shifted.
"Hehe. Secret. But we should hit 1M by next year."
"...Didn't you just do 256K two months ago?"
Kim Hae-ik looked at me anew, impressed.
"Mmm~ Mid-next year? That sounds right. I've invested a ton personally and even dabbled in the R&D."
I still remembered the researchers' wide eyes when this kid started meddling. So thrilling.
That's the fun of being a wunderkind. Originally, Daeha would've caught up at 16M, but I planned to accelerate it.
-Click.
We ducked into a building to escape the cold wind and the agent's gaze. After a quick glance, I spoke first.
"Something happen?"
Kim Hae-ik's eyes darkened briefly.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "I've been tasked with dissolving insolvent companies... and this one's blowing up."
That jogged a memory.
The Dongguk Group dissolution. The eighth-largest conglomerate, representing Busan, Ulsan, and Gyeongnam, getting dismantled.
"Dongguk Group?"
"Heh. Spot on. No surprise anymore, but your insight's uncanny."
"Well, Grandfather loves me for it. Nailed the 256K DRAM too, got more praise."
He'd already heard about the skimpy Saemaul Undong donation from Grandfather, so solid ground. But predicting a chaebol's breakup outside the president's sight? Tough for a normie.
And I wasn't a normie—I was already branded a genius.
"Jeez... Our chaebols have always been shaky, but this..."
"They see right through them, huh?"
"...Yeah."
Ignoring the president's word leading to dissolution? Overkill.
"Anyway... there's cause. Chairman Kang's been overextending. Chaebols thrive on debt-fueled expansion here. But back-to-back flops mean violations and cooked books aplenty if audited. Debt ratio's 900%—bad."
Problem was, that was 80s average. Double the norm, but not shocking then.
Anyone would cry foul—personal grudge.
"Poor Chairman Kang. What a way to end his career. Begging like a chaebol chairman."
"Nah, not that bad. He's still a chaebol head; they'll draw the line. If he bends at the right time, it'll end with some slashes and half the affiliates spun off. No more glory, but unavoidable."
"...?"
What?
The flow had diverged from original history. There, Chairman Kang lost everything, mooched off friends till the regime fell, sued unconstitutionally for his companies back late in life, then the IMF crisis tanked them before he could reclaim—and he died alone.
'Butterfly effect.'
The trigger for the president's ire was skimpy Saemaul donation, but the killer was the Ilhae Foundation IOU.
IOUs are from debtor to creditor—insulting. Even with excuses, defying a direct presidential fundraiser?
But the Aung San Mausoleum bombing that should've killed officials—and birthed the foundation for their families—never happened.
So no blowup over skimpy Ilhae donation. Plus, surviving officials could advise sanely.
Two months till the 2.12 election; Chun Doo-hwan wasn't rushed. He wouldn't know DJ's pre-election return yet, so relaxed.
Hence, a milder response than original history.
'Interesting.'
I'd already warped a chunk of history.
That thrill...
Addictive.
"Foreign Minister says it's better to tame than destroy for disciplining chaebols."
"Makes sense. Grandfather'll sweat the donations. Or not? Business-wise, profit in acquisitions... Daeha'll take some affiliates, right?"
"...Secret."
As good as confirmation.
"Sweet. Hehe. Hmm, can't let Uncle get the reins, so tell Grandfather myself... But dunno what's cut yet—gotta peek. Aw, gutsy. Real gutsy."
I chattered lightly, shaking my head.
"Not a big deal after all. Hmm... But why so serious?"
"Haha. Yeah, small potatoes for you. But... the election worries me. The era's shifting."
Now I got his look.
...The Dongguk dissolution was Chun Doo-hwan squeezing chaebols for election funds.
Politics and economy intertwined; Kim Hae-ik couldn't ignore the political undercurrents over mere chaebol busting.
President personally dismantling for funds meant his influence was waning enough to need desperate plays—or risk losing the election.
Makes sense. June Uprising's in '87. Keen Kim Hae-ik senses the winds early. DJ and YS wield massive sway even under dictatorship.
"Plenty of time left, right? At least two years."
"...Two years is short for old folks like me."
"It's a quarter of my life. And I've got bigger fish now—politics takes a backseat."
I shrugged. New regime's end was huge, but globally, something bigger loomed.
"Oh? Like what?"
Kim Hae-ik eyed me intrigued. My hits always paid off big—he expected it.
"The dollar. Isn't it too high?"
Plaza Accord in September: yen from 250 to 150 per dollar, cheap dollar policy.
Low rates. Low oil. Low dollar.
The Three Lows Boom—greatest prosperity since Dangun—approached.