The Real-Name Decree
The Financial Real-Name System. “My fellow citizens, we are finally implementing the real-name financial transaction system. From this moment forward, all financial transactions will be conducted under real names only.”
It was Sunday evening, August 8, 1993. On television, President Kim Young-sam was delivering an emergency address. The setting was Cheong Wa Dae, and the format was a special statement. The press release circulated by the Blue House was titled “Presidential Emergency Economic Order on Real-Name Financial Transactions and Confidentiality.” The content was the Financial Real-Name System, something Yoo Jae-won already knew well.
What was interesting was the scene behind the President. Seated in chairs were the Blue House staff and ministers who could attend the State Council meeting, all looking visibly shocked. Though they tried to maintain composed expressions for the live broadcast, it was impossible to hide completely. The one who managed his expression the least was, of course, Prime Minister Jeon Myeong-heon.
As the Prime Minister and a full member of the State Council, he sat in the very front row, which meant he appeared frequently on camera. It was clear proof that President Kim had prepared the Financial Real-Name System under the strictest secrecy. According to what Yoo Jae-won knew, President Kim Young-sam had already collected resignation letters from every member of the working group preparing the system. He had also warned them that if any information leaked, the entire team would be arrested, and he repeatedly emphasized that they must stake their lives on keeping it secret.
The twenty officials preparing the Financial Real-Name System had been confined for two months in a public housing apartment in Gwacheon, Gyeonggi Province, unable to return home, all to maintain absolute secrecy. There were even legendary stories of high-ranking officials who had been sent abroad on business trips only to be taken straight to the dormitory upon their return, or who had been escorted to the airport for departure only to be redirected to the dormitory instead of boarding their flights.
That was why it was obvious Prime Minister Jeon Myeong-heon had received no prior notice until just before the announcement. After all, this was the same Jeon Myeong-heon who had casually shared with Yoo Jae-won the news that a North-South summit was being pursued. Yet this time, he had not received a single word of advance notice. It was not only the Prime Minister who had been kept in the dark. Even President Kim’s closest aides had received no prior contact, so perfect was the security.
Thanks to that, with the Daejeon Expo successfully opened and the first weekend underway, television networks that had been preparing special programs were forced to interrupt them and instead broadcast explanations of the Financial Real-Name System, triggered by the President’s emergency order, along with its aftermath. However, the quality and depth of the programming left much to be desired. It amounted to little more than hastily summoning a few financial experts and listening to their commentary. Even those so-called experts, called in on short notice, lacked proper preparation and could not provide adequate explanations.
“The timing is perfect.”
Yoo Jae-won knew that the Financial Real-Name System had originally been announced at 7:45 p.m. on August 12, after the State Council meeting, when the President had called an emergency press conference. Now it had been announced four days earlier, at 8 p.m. on the 8th. While the entire nation’s attention was focused on the Expo’s opening, the government had delivered a spectacular blow to the back of the head.
The Financial Real-Name System would have little direct impact on ordinary citizens. The ones hit hardest were those with large financial assets and corporations. So while the media was in an uproar over the real-name system now, in a few days the coverage would once again be dominated by the Expo. There was one thing that would bring it back into the spotlight, however: at the end of his address, President Kim had urged the National Assembly to pass the Financial Real-Name System Act on the 12th and 13th.
Although the real-name system had gone into effect immediately under the President’s emergency order, it had not yet been legislated. That was why President Kim, hoping to avoid confusion, had asked the National Assembly to pass the law as quickly as possible. This was also the point where the President’s concern showed through. If the ruling party held a majority on its own, there would have been nothing more to say. But since that was impossible, cooperation from the second and third parties was essential.
Beep!
An alarm sounded from Yoo Jae-won’s Shell Book. It was a message from Chief of Staff Choi Kang-wook and other executives at the Korean branch. Most of the reports concerned the Financial Real-Name System. Hwang Jae-hong, the Korea manager of ID Investment, had immediately reported on the preparations made in response to the system’s implementation.
Yoo Jae-won had repeatedly warned since last year that the Financial Real-Name System might be enacted, and he had instructed the Korean branch of ID Investment to be ready to respond at any time. As a result, starting with the third investment product, ID Investment had prohibited anonymous subscriptions. Nominee accounts were naturally filtered out as well. When subscribing, applicants were required to present photo identification and confirm the subscriber’s identity. This was an order that would never have been followed if, like conventional banks, sales staff had been pressured with individual quotas. In the rush to meet targets, they would have accepted anonymous or nominee accounts without question.
The distinctiveness of ID Investment was evident here. There was no performance pressure on sales staff. Customers were bringing their money of their own accord, so there was no need to push sales aggressively. On the contrary, the rumor that they were filtering out illicit funds had actually eased their situation, so everyone had diligently followed Yoo Jae-won’s instructions.
Now, with the President’s emergency order activating the Financial Real-Name System, Yoo Jae-won’s foresight was being recognized at an even higher level. Moreover, the neatly organized report, as if it had been waiting for this day, fully reflected the efforts of the Korean branch of ID Investment.
“Good. Even if an inspector shows up tomorrow, there won’t be any problems.”
Reading Hwang Jae-hong’s report, Yoo Jae-won felt a surge of confidence.
Ring ring!
This time it was a phone call. Though the caller ID did not display, Yoo Jae-won could easily guess who it was.
“Yes, Mr. Prime Minister!”
—How could the President do this to us!
As expected, Jeon Myeong-heon’s voice, filled with frustration, burst out the moment the call connected.
—Does this man even consider us partners in governing the country? How can he treat the Prime Minister like a figurehead?
Even through the phone, it was easy to picture him fuming.
“You’re right. This time he went too far. Did he only inform you right before the announcement?”
—I found out an hour ago. He called me to the Blue House saying there was something urgent to discuss, then just issued a one-sided order. I finally learned what it feels like to be treated like a figurehead.
Since the Financial Real-Name System had been prepared in complete secrecy, with staff recruited confidentially and confined in an apartment in Gyeonggi Province, there had been no reason to inform Prime Minister Jeon Myeong-heon in advance. The Prime Minister had surely witnessed how the Hanahoe faction had been dismantled, yet he still did not seem to fully grasp President Kim’s methods.
—Should I go to the National Assembly and turn everything upside down?
“Come on, don’t do that.”
Yoo Jae-won quickly tried to dissuade him.
—Why not? If we keep accepting this, we’ll become pushovers in no time. Sometimes you have to raise your voice.
“In my opinion, the timing isn’t right yet. Do you know what the President’s approval rating is right now? This announcement is going to bring him enormous public support. There’s no need to deliberately stand in the rain during a downpour. Instead, you should focus on gaining something practical.”
—Practical gains?
“When the special session of the National Assembly opens on the 13th, there’s no law saying only the Financial Real-Name System has to pass. We could push through a few reform bills that the Tongil National Party has proposed, so people will say the party is doing its job properly.”
—Hmm, do we really have to do it that way? Is there no other option?
The Prime Minister had not suffered any financial losses from the Financial Real-Name System. Yoo Jae-won had been warning about its sudden implementation since last year, and Jeon Myeong-heon, who followed Yoo Jae-won’s words like gospel, would have taken appropriate measures. What angered him was exactly what he had said: being treated like a figurehead rather than a governing partner.
“Yes. Responding emotionally might feel good in the moment, but it will ultimately lead to greater losses. Right now, it’s better to play along.”
Yoo Jae-won calmed Jeon Myeong-heon once more, but this time he added a condition that had not been there before.
—Understood. For now, I’ll play along!
Jeon Myeong-heon had understood Yoo Jae-won’s words. He immediately grasped the implication behind the phrase “for now.” The current approval rating was soaring as if it would pierce the heavens and reach space, but it would not last forever. Jeon Myeong-heon understood that perfectly. Moreover, since the Tongil National Party’s cooperation was essential for passing the Financial Real-Name System Act in the National Assembly, they could use it as leverage to push through reform bills that the Democratic Liberal Party had been hesitant about.
The reform bills proposed by the Tongil National Party were so radical that even modern progressive parties would pale in comparison. The repeal of the National Security Law was just the basics. That was why many people believed the legislation would never pass— even the Tongil National Party’s own lawmakers thought so. But the most important thing was that Yoo Jae-won had no intention of letting that happen.
The current situation presented a good opportunity to enact reform bills. Of course, it was not something like repealing the National Security Law. Yoo Jae-won had pushed two specific bills to Jeon Myeong-heon. One was the revision of Article 2, Paragraph 1 of the State Compensation Act—commonly known as the double compensation prohibition clause—which prevented military personnel, military civilians, and police officers from claiming damages from the state. The other was the Special Disaster Act, which held executives and business owners accountable for negligence in the management and supervision of large-scale disasters.
It would be ideal to secure both, but the first might require a constitutional amendment, so Yoo Jae-won believed the Special Disaster Act was more likely to pass first. Its key point was that in accidents resulting in thirty or more deaths, not only the company’s executives but also the business owners themselves would face prison sentences of seven years or more. It also included provisions ensuring that victims’ compensation would be paid by the state first, with the state then seizing the business owner’s assets to recover the funds, enabling the fastest possible compensation.
Defining the scale of a disaster by the number of deaths might seem extremely inhumane, but it was unavoidable for precise enforcement. Soon, national disasters would erupt like mushrooms after rain, and this law would serve as a warning to those who had pursued reckless development solely for profit.
“Is this enough?”
While others would have been scrambling, Yoo Jae-won, who had finished his preparations long ago, had completed all his arrangements with just a few phone calls. It seemed there would be no major issues with his departure the next day, but then came one more unexpected call.
Ring ring!
“Jae-won, you have a call! It’s Chief of Staff Choi.”
While he was busy packing for his trip, his parents called out to him.
“Yes.”
He would normally let most calls go to voicemail, but if it was Chief of Staff Choi Kang-wook, he had to take it. Yoo Jae-won, who had been packing items available only in Korea into his suitcase, immediately stood up and went to answer the phone.
—Chairman, Chairman Choi Hyun-hee of Ilseong Group says he would like to meet with you. He says it’s regarding Ilseong Electronics.
As expected, Choi Kang-wook’s message was no ordinary matter.
“Is he asking me to come to him again this time?”
A few years ago, Chairman Choi Hyun-hee had once suggested they meet. Yoo Jae-won had been about to comply but then changed his mind and turned back. Since then, a cold war had persisted between them. The battlefield of that cold war was on Ilseong’s side, so there had not been much commotion at ID Group, but each of Ilseong’s affiliates had been thrown into chaos.
The biggest bomb currently shaking Ilseong was the outside directors who had been forcibly installed through their substantial shareholdings. Directors appointed by ID Group had been parachuted onto the boards of Ilseong Group affiliates—boards that had never been opened to outsiders—and these directors were now exposing every instance of embezzlement and breach of trust that had previously been carried out as routine practice. By recruiting capable individuals from academia and civic groups who had passionately advocated for chaebol reform and parachuting them in, each one was performing their duties at 120 percent and producing remarkable results.
Thanks to the complaints and lawsuits filed by those installed by ID Investment, more than ten people had already been arrested. Most were department heads and section chiefs handling operations, but there were also quite a few at the director level. Moreover, there were currently around twenty additional cases in progress, and that number was only likely to grow, not shrink. Naturally, because of this wave of lawsuits, Ilseong and pro-chaebol media outlets were in an uproar, claiming that ID Investment was exercising undue rights. Their argument was that investment firms should only invest and not interfere in management. Of course, it was an argument without any logic. Exercising the rights inherent in stock ownership was entirely legitimate. The value of stocks themselves originated from the ability to intervene in management, and the pinnacle of such value investing was M&A. Therefore, the actions taken by ID Investment under Yoo Jae-won’s delegation were also legal. If it had been illegal, Ilseong’s legal team would have immediately moved to put a stop to it, but they remained completely paralyzed.
In any case, in this situation, when Yoo Jae-won had demanded Ilseong Electronics shares in exchange for the Coppermine technology, Chairman Choi Hyun-hee and the people at Ilseong Electronics must have been horrified. Yet they could not simply refuse, because without the Coppermine technology, they would be expelled from the semiconductor market in an instant.
HPC certification was already becoming the industry standard. Major computer manufacturers were in full swing preparing to release PCs with perfect HPC certification as quickly as possible. Intel and AMD had also announced that they would release their latest CPUs with HPC certification as early as the beginning of September, or at the latest by the end of October. Graphics card manufacturers were also active, as were memory manufacturers. Large orders for HPC-certified memory were pouring in to memory semiconductor companies like Micron, Mirae Electronics, and Kumseong Electronics. The only exception was Ilseong. Because they lacked the Coppermine technology, there were no orders for HPC-certified memory. They had not yet reached the point of idling their factories due to existing contracted volumes, but it was clear that dark clouds were gathering over the company’s future. Recently, some large-volume orders had been canceled with penalty payments, and the signs were unmistakable.
In this situation, Kim Hyuk-soo, the head of the Future Strategy Office, had tried to negotiate with Yoo Jae-won through some kind of trick, but the talks had collapsed before he could even get to the main point.
—That is not the case. He said that if you set the time and place, he will move accordingly. There is also a report from the intelligence team that Kim Hyuk-soo, head of the Future Strategy Office, has been placed on standby.
“Ah, so this time he’s planning to do it properly.”
Since Chairman Choi Hyun-hee had said he would move personally, Yoo Jae-won wanted to meet him at least once and hear what he had to say.
“Then let’s meet tomorrow morning. I’ll push my departure to the U.S. to the evening. Please prepare a venue appropriate for his stature, Chief of Staff Choi.”
—Yes, understood!
Asking for a grand reception for Choi Hyun-hee did not mean that the desire for revenge accumulated from his past life had faded. If it were up to him, he would not even want to offer a glass of cold water. He had only asked for a suitable venue out of consideration for ID Group’s public image.
Yoo Jae-won had nothing to lose. There were plenty of ways to recover the funds he had poured into acquiring a large stake in Ilseong Electronics without incurring a single penny of loss.
The next day.
Yoo Jae-won met Chairman Choi Hyun-hee in a business meeting room at the Seoul Mirae Hotel. Chairman Choi Hyun-hee looked exactly as Yoo Jae-won had often seen him in the news during his active years. In his later years, his face had been softened by the gentle curves of age, but now it carried a strong, sharp, and angular impression.
Choi Hyun-hee, who had arrived first, scrutinized Yoo Jae-won from head to toe with sharp eyes. At that sight, Yoo Jae-won felt an urge to ask what impression the man was getting from him. But they were not close like Jeon Myeong-heon, and Yoo Jae-won had no intention of becoming close in the future.
“I’m Yoo Jae-won.”
“Choi Hyun-hee.”
Yoo Jae-won offered the greeting first. Since both men’s names were essentially their titles, the greeting ended there. Yoo Jae-won leaned back comfortably in the plush chair. However, if Chairman Choi Hyun-hee, like Kim Hyuk-soo, began with an absurd story, he was prepared to stand up and leave immediately.
Soon, Chairman Choi Hyun-hee spoke first.
“Chief Kim made a big mistake. I apologize. Now, tell me what stake you want. I’ll give you as much as I can.”
Chairman Choi’s statement far exceeded Yoo Jae-won’s expectations.