The Chairman's Ascent
Rule Breaker
“Heh heh.” Park Sang-o couldn’t hold back his laughter. He had never imagined that a minor incident along the Nakdong River would be enough to propel him into the chairman’s office. It was something he had yearned for so desperately that he dreamed of it every night, only for the vision to vanish like a mirage the moment he opened his eyes each morning. Lacking any real ability, he had been forced to watch his eldest brother inherit the chairman’s seat simply because he was the firstborn. Then came the leak of pollutants from a small affiliate in the Nakdong River industrial complex, triggering an enormous backlash. A nationwide boycott, political vetoes, and even a presidential warning combined to create the greatest crisis in the group’s history.
The former chairman Park Sang-yong’s actions made the severity of the situation crystal clear. Greedy and utterly incompetent, the eldest brother had never been the type to listen to family or expert advice. He ran the group and made personnel decisions like a lone wolf, guided solely by his own whims. When the Nakdong River phenol incident erupted, he hastily convened an emergency countermeasures meeting with executives. Dissatisfied with their responses, he even called a family meeting.
“I’ll take all the heat from this storm, Brother. You can return once the skies clear.”
Park Sang-o had spoken the very words his brother most wanted to hear. Park Sang-yong had no desire to shoulder responsibility for the accident, nor did he want to suffer any financial loss. The moment his younger brother volunteered, the elder brother seized the opportunity. Admitting full responsibility for the incident, he stepped down, and Park Sang-o’s appointment as the third chairman proceeded without a hitch. None of it would have been possible without the Nakdong River accident.
“The only pity is that the succession came without any transfer of shares.”
Though incompetent, Park Sang-yong was not entirely thoughtless. His instinct for self-preservation was so sharp that even Park Sang-o had to acknowledge it. The moment he realized the crisis facing the group was no ordinary matter, he handed over his position to the very man he had always kept at arm’s length. Park Sang-o’s ascension occurred without any movement of the group’s controlling shares; it was arranged exactly as Park Sang-yong dictated, as though he were merely installing a salaried president. Still, Park Sang-o belonged to the royal family and held a modest stake, so he was not quite the same as an ordinary hired hand.
“Brother made a mistake.”
It had been a hard-won seat. He had promised to return it once the crisis passed, but Park Sang-o had no intention of keeping that promise. The amusing part was that Park Sang-yong already knew his younger brother would never give it back. That was why he had chosen succession. Using the plummeting stock price of Busan Brewery, he was preparing to transfer the controlling shares of Busan Group to his own son. Even if Park Sang-o stubbornly refused to step down, the next successor would be Park Sang-yong’s child.
“That matter can be dealt with later.”
Seated in the chairman’s chair, Park Sang-o felt relaxed. For now, handling the Nakdong River phenol contamination incident took priority. He pressed the intercom and summoned the chief secretary to hear a report on the measures he had ordered days earlier.
“Did you grease the wheels properly?”
The moment the chief secretary entered, Park Sang-o fired the question without offering him a seat. The secretary, accustomed to such treatment, immediately handed over the file he had brought.
“Yes, sir. Everyone you specified received their envelopes. Not a single person refused.”
“Of course not. This is exactly the kind of situation where those bastards stand to make a killing.”
Park Sang-o’s solution to the crisis engulfing Busan Group was the most traditional method imaginable: widespread lobbying. He had distributed massive cash envelopes to politicians, prosecutors, and even officials at the Ministry of Environment. Promising that if they helped smooth things over this time, greater rewards would follow, he slipped bundles of money disguised as gift sets into the trunks of their cars. The size of the bribes varied by rank. Agency heads received apple boxes in their trunks, department heads got gift sets, and working-level staff received boxes of Bacchus energy drinks.
“What about the reporters?”
“Yes, sir. Marketing department staff are handling them exclusively. Since the former chairman issued a clear apology and prepared pollution prevention measures, we should see positive media coverage soon.”
“Good. Spend as much money as needed. I want every negative impression wiped clean within a month. By the way, have you identified the money trail or backers behind the boycott?”
“Ah, there are rumors it’s Crown Beer’s doing, but we haven’t confirmed anything yet. And…”
The chief secretary’s voice trailed off. While the boycott was spreading nationwide, there was no hidden mastermind behind it. The consumer boycotts targeting Busan Brewery and the franchise chains operated by Busan Group were entirely spontaneous. Yet Park Sang-o, who had lived his entire life inside the chaebol bubble, far removed from ordinary reality, could not comprehend such a thing. The last time he had said as much, he had been thoroughly scolded.
“What?”
The same thing happened again. At the words “we haven’t confirmed anything,” Park Sang-o shot to his feet and kicked the chief secretary squarely in the shin.
“Gah!”
The hard rubber sole of his shoe struck like a military boot, sending a sharp wave of pain through the man’s leg.
“You’ve grown lax. Still haven’t found them?”
Park Sang-o, who had never set foot in the military, launched into another of his army lectures. The relentless scolding left the chief secretary unable to deliver the rest of his report—that several “Busan Group Boycott” clubs had been created on Nextcom, with posts flooding in at an alarming rate. Multiple clubs had formed, and lists of consumer goods produced by Busan Group, along with the franchises it operated, were being compiled and shared. Products such as Coca-Cola, Burger King, KFC, and Nestlé—items Busan Group imported and distributed domestically—were being actively circulated.
“Get out there and find them right now!”
The secretary had been about to mention the club creators when he was unceremoniously thrown out of the office.
“Ugh, that idiot. If it weren’t for his loyalty, I’d have fired him long ago. No one else would hire him anyway…”
The chief secretary had worked with Park Sang-o for nearly twenty years. Even the closest of friends rarely shared such depth. Only Park Sang-o would kick his most trusted subordinate in the shin while saying something like that. Still, the report that cleanup efforts were proceeding smoothly brought him a measure of relief. With that weight lifted, other thoughts began to surface.
“By the way, should I keep an eye on that nephew of mine taking over the shares?”
He had decided to think about it later, but the matter refused to leave his mind. If possible, he wanted to block it. If possible, he wanted to buy those shares himself. It wasn’t as though he lacked the money. The funds being funneled to politicians, the judiciary, and the media came not from company accounts but from Park Sang-o’s personal pockets. Of course, those large sums were slush funds accumulated while running Busan Group’s affiliates. He had quite a bit saved up. If he used it to purchase the shares, he could secure a far more stable grip on management.
“Hmm. There must be a way…”
Park Sang-o’s mind began working overtime.
At the same time.
“President!”
The door to the president’s office at Deokjin Rice Bran Oil Factory burst open as a young woman charged toward President Park Sang-kwon like a charging bison.
“Miss Kim? Calm down first!”
Park Sang-kwon, seated in his plush chair reviewing documents, responded with perfect composure despite the sudden charge. Miss Kim, the factory’s accounting manager, had been with him since the company’s founding. They had worked together for over ten years and were as close as siblings, knowing everything about each other. Yet neither had ever crossed the invisible line between them. To Miss Kim, Park Sang-kwon was a good president; to him, she was like a trusted lady of the house who could be left in charge of the company’s internal affairs.
“President! What kind of trouble have you gotten into?”
“Trouble?”
“Four hundred and forty billion won just appeared in the company account! Are you telling me that’s not trouble? Don’t tell me you actually took out that collateral loan you mentioned! Do you have any idea how expensive interest rates are these days? I told you I’d find a better option!”
Miss Kim’s voice rose as though she had become his actual wife. It was understandable—every morning on her way to work, she stopped by the post office to check the company’s current account transactions. While online banking would have allowed her to review everything from her desk, no bank offered such services yet. That morning, as usual, she had processed the passbook at the ATM and discovered an amount she could never have imagined: 440.94 billion won. Though Miss Kim had handled large sums as accounting manager at the largest factory in Deokjin Industrial Complex, today’s figure was unprecedented. She was shocked—and suddenly terrified. After the Nakdong River phenol incident, President Park Sang-kwon had suddenly demanded a massive amount of capital and ordered her to explore mortgaging the entire company. It had been the greatest crisis the company had faced in over a decade.
“Haha, that’s just the settlement from a small investment.”
“What? A settlement?”
“Chairman Yoo Jae-won of ID Group. Check the sender’s name.”
At the mere mention of Yoo Jae-won and ID Group, Miss Kim understood instantly. President Park Sang-kwon had bragged about Yoo Jae-won so often that words could not describe it. Spotting his potential early and investing had paid off spectacularly—that story was already famous. The scale of the windfall, however, had only been described in vague terms until today, when the numbers finally appeared. Four hundred and forty billion won was a first.
“Originally it was around 489 billion.”
“What? Four hundred and eighty-nine billion?”
Out of goodwill, Yoo Jae-won had intended to transfer the entire investment profit immediately by purchasing Park Sang-kwon’s investment account at market value. Though stunned by the unimaginable returns, Park Sang-kwon quickly regained his composure. The arrangement was riddled with conditions that could later be criticized as preferential treatment. While Yoo Jae-won’s close ties to the current administration made it safe for now, there was no guarantee the next administration would feel the same. Having witnessed many companies destroyed after falling out of favor with the government, Park Sang-kwon had insisted the transaction be handled through proper channels. As a result, he had paid a penalty and a commission on the profits. After all deductions, roughly 49 billion won had been subtracted, leaving 440 billion.
“No! Why would you accept less than the amount he offered to give you first? Why?”
Having been shocked by 440 billion, Miss Kim now reversed course and demanded an explanation for why he had voluntarily taken less.