The President's Reckoning
"My fellow citizens, whom I respect and love dearly, this is Jeon Myeong-heon speaking." President Jeon Myeong-heon stepped before the cameras. His expression was rigid, devoid of any warmth. That was only natural. The cameras prepared for today were not connected to the "Conversation with the President" page on Nextcom. They were broadcast cameras. And this was live.
"First, I offer my sincere apologies to the people for the discomfort caused by the recent reports of my past moral failings. As a man of insufficient virtue, I have no words to offer, even if I had a hundred mouths."
Jeon Myeong-heon delivered a clean apology regarding the scandal. The reporters were stunned. The press materials distributed beforehand had made no mention of any apology for the scandal. With that unexpected opening, Jeon Myeong-heon began his prepared address.
"The media has been filled with debate over how to handle Daeho Group. Some argue that we cannot let a 'too-big-to-fail' company collapse, warning that mass unemployment would derail our barely recovering economy. I disagree."
Jeon Myeong-heon spoke with finality. "The government has currently identified 16 trillion won in accounting fraud at Daeho Group. In just the past few days, that figure has grown by another 6 trillion. Many seem to treat accounting fraud lightly, but it is a grave crime that undermines the very foundation of capitalism—trust. In essence, 16 trillion won of Daeho Group's assets simply do not exist."
Jeon Myeong-heon was openly targeting Daeho Group. The Blue House sat at the apex of Korea's intelligence apparatus. It had long since determined that Kim O-jung stood behind the scandal that had recently embarrassed Jeon Myeong-heon. At the same time, a screen beside him displayed a simplified breakdown of Daeho Group's assets and liabilities. Assets barely exceeded capital. The moment Jeon Myeong-heon announced the 16 trillion won in fraud, that amount vanished from the asset column. Daeho Group's liabilities suddenly towered far above its assets.
"To keep such a company afloat would require unlimited taxpayer money. I oppose pouring astronomical sums into an enterprise with little chance of recovery. More importantly, bailing out Daeho would send a dangerous signal to other conglomerates. I will put an end to the practice of executives enjoying every luxury through reckless management, only to beg for salvation with tears when their companies falter. Even if it were Mirae Group, my stance would not change."
Jeon Myeong-heon's face was filled with grim resolve. When he mentioned Mirae Group, his gaze wavered slightly. "At the same time, I will formally request that the National Assembly strengthen penalties for economic crimes beyond their current level."
This was the true purpose. Jeon Myeong-heon had not taken the stage merely to announce a harsh fate for Daeho. His real target was the reinforcement of criminal law regarding economic offenses.
"The Conversation with the President page on Nextcom includes a petition board. Petitions that receive significant support are reported directly to me. Do you know what the most common petition is? Demands to punish swindlers. And every single one of those frauds was committed for money."
It would not be an exaggeration to call present-day Korea a republic of fraud. Swindling occurred across every stratum of society. Conglomerates like Daeho Group committed massive accounting fraud, while small and medium enterprises struggled with dishonored promissory notes. Even in rural villages, people absconded with mutual aid funds or vanished after borrowing money.
"The root cause lies in the collapse of trust." A high level of trust was essential for capitalism to flourish. Yet Korea's own credit had collapsed during the IMF crisis. In such an environment, citizens had chosen the path of self-preservation, and fraud had spread widely.
"Restoring collapsed trust will take a long time. But what must come first is decisive punishment for fraud."
As Jeon Myeong-heon read from his script, Yoo Jae-won came to mind. Yoo Jae-won had strongly argued that strengthening punishment for economic crimes was a prerequisite for restoring national credit. When he heard that even those who embezzled hundreds of billions of won could walk free after two or three years in prison, Jeon Myeong-heon had felt a pang of conscience even as he nodded in agreement.
Mirae Group had not been free of slush funds either. There had been instances where hundreds of billions of won in hidden funds were exposed. Yet the punishment, as Yoo Jae-won had said, had been light. First-instance courts handed down prison sentences, but by the third instance, most cases ended in suspended sentences. That had been convenient when he was a businessman. But now that he was steering the great ship called Korea, his perspective had reversed 180 degrees.
Wherever he looked, swindlers swarmed. It was not that the country lacked money; it was that too many people were busy defrauding one another. One statement resonated with him most deeply.
"Korea is a nation of democracy and capitalism. Losing a lifetime of savings is no different from having one's entire life stolen."
This was a Korea without any meaningful social safety net. When a household economy collapsed and people were thrown onto the streets, no one came to their aid. That was why the fear of layoffs was so immense, and why the media exploited it so skillfully. Whenever the Jeon Myeong-heon administration tried to take a hard line, the media applied the brakes. Yet the situation of fraud victims was even worse. In one dairy farming village, a single mutual aid organizer had absconded, causing damages of 2 billion won. The victims, and even their families, would carry the aftermath for the rest of their lives.
Even if the swindler was caught, the problem remained. Those who embezzled hundreds of billions could hide their assets somewhere and serve two or three years before walking free. Actual relief for the victims was impossible.
"In a capitalist society, economic crime is a serious offense. Personally, I believe it is greater than murder. Murder may end at the individual level, but the damage from fraud spreads in an endless chain. To fundamentally break this vicious cycle, I have concluded that strict punishment for economic criminals is necessary, and the Blue House and the party are in full agreement."
Jeon Myeong-heon then displayed the guidelines for the revision of the criminal code. "This is a bill jointly drafted by members of the Tongil National Party and the Democratic Party, and I fully support it."
It was radical. The era when first-time offenders received suspended sentences as a matter of course was over. Massive damages would bring heavy prison terms. Where the current code had upper limits depending on the offense, the ruling party's proposal set lower limits. Suspended sentences would only be possible for damages of 100 million won or less. Anything above 100 million won meant mandatory imprisonment. Five hundred million won brought at least five years, one billion won or more brought at least seven years, and damages in the tens of billions would mean life imprisonment with no possibility of reduction.
That was not all. The bill would aggressively pursue the recovery of damages, extending the scope of seizure even to the families of the perpetrators. If family members could not explain the source of their increased assets, those assets would be presumed to be hidden proceeds of fraud and subject to seizure. Under such provisions, not only Kim O-jung, chairman of Daeho Group, but everyone involved in the accounting fraud and fraudulent loans would remain in prison for life. The same would apply to other chaebol families. All the illegal and extralegal abuses they had committed over the years could finally be halted through strong punishment. Using subordinates as shields would have its limits; once the amounts exceeded hundreds of millions of won, prison sentences would follow immediately.
Of course, the courts remained a concern. No matter how well the laws were written, if judges wielded their gavels poorly, everything would come to nothing.
"This is a decision made after careful consideration to ensure that grotesque corporations like Daeho Group never appear again, and to protect ordinary citizens from economic crime. We will also hold the mastermind behind Daeho Group and his family fully accountable according to law and principle."
Having finished his address, Jeon Myeong-heon bowed to the cameras and left the stage. There was no question-and-answer session, but the announcement was so shocking that the reporters scrambled to file their reports and articles.
The fastest reaction came, naturally, from the citizens watching in front of their televisions. Public opinion, previously divided over whether to dismantle or preserve Daeho Group, rapidly consolidated toward dismantling after Jeon Myeong-heon's speech. Between those who wanted to save Daeho and President Jeon Myeong-heon, who declared he would use the group as a test case to establish law and principle in Korean society, the people could easily tell who truly had their interests at heart.
"Our Grandfather Jeon Myeong-heon is truly remarkable."
Watching the broadcast, Yoo Jae-won clicked his tongue in admiration. He had been the one to encourage Jeon Myeong-heon, but he had not expected the president to carry it out so flawlessly. Yoo Jae-won's method of persuasion had been surprisingly simple. He had reminded Jeon Myeong-heon that those who entered the Blue House always ended tragically. Even former President Kim Young-sam, who had started strong, saw all his achievements washed away by the IMF crisis. Presidents before him had fared worse. Except for Choi Kyu-hah, they had been ousted, assassinated, executed, or imprisoned. Even Choi Kyu-hah had not completed his term after a coup. It was a parade of unfortunate presidents.
Yoo Jae-won had told him that if he wished to become a successful president, he must look only to the people and move forward. He had sent Jeon Myeong-heon some of the plans from his master blueprint in document form, and after countless phone calls, they had reached this day. At the same time, the decision to clash head-on with the media from the very beginning of his term had also been Yoo Jae-won's idea. It was true that Korea's media was in disarray and bore responsibility for the IMF crisis, but there was a more fundamental reason. Even if Jeon Myeong-heon governed with good intentions, people would inevitably appear who would exploit his name for their own gain. If relations with the media were good, such people would naturally receive protection. But if the media was locked in open conflict with the administration, the enraged press would serve as a vigilant watchdog, tearing into anyone who stepped out of line.
In any case, the strengthened penalties for economic crimes announced today were Jeon Myeong-heon's decisive measure born from this approach, and Yoo Jae-won fully agreed with it. If applied without exception—from petty local fraudsters to the chaebols themselves—it would become a powerful tool to rein in market power that had run wild like an unbridled colt since the beginning of the twenty-first century. With the Tongil National Party and Democratic Party coalition holding a majority in the National Assembly, passage of the strengthened criminal code revision was expected to proceed without issue. The conservative New Korea Party, having lost the presidential election, was consumed by internal strife between Kim Young-sam's faction and the old Minjeong Party faction from the Chun Doo-hwan and Roh Tae-woo eras, leaving it with no strength to obstruct the reform drive.
"So Kim Young-sam's faction will become the Grand National Party, and the Minjeong faction will merge with the United Liberal Democrats?"
The more the conservative forces split, the better it was for Yoo Jae-won. Fewer people would be able to apply the brakes to the powerful reform drive he was conducting with Jeon Myeong-heon as its icon.
Yoo Jae-won spent some time browsing Nextcom's news page before closing the browser. The program that appeared next was the ID Group integrated business processing system, which had recently entered trial operation. Commonly known as an ERP program. Electronic document approval was basic, and it allowed one to see the entire group's business processing status at a glance. Of course, viewing all materials and documents across affiliates required a super-administrator account, which had only been issued to Yoo Jae-won and a handful of others.
Incidentally, when Yoo Jae-won announced that ID Group would develop its own ERP system, SAP had gone into an uproar. SAP had long dominated the ERP market, and the company feared that ID Group, the software industry's colossal giant, was entering its own backyard. It was a misunderstanding. Yoo Jae-won intended to use the newly developed ERP system exclusively within ID Group and had no intention of selling it to other companies. That was because the ID Group-exclusive ERP being built contained a special secret: integration with artificial intelligence.
As soon as the data center was completed, Yoo Jae-won had begun machine learning for natural language processing. Recently, he had been developing an image analysis module. Soon, the natural language processing system and image analysis module would be combined, creating tremendous synergy. It was like combining linguistic ability with vision in a human being. Even in its current state, it would be possible to search using image files or find desired images using specific keywords. If the image analysis performance was further advanced, it would even become possible to locate specific individuals in street CCTV footage. When these modules were eventually completed and artificial intelligence was fully realized, it would not only assist with company operations but could eventually manage the company itself.
However, that was still far in the future. Yoo Jae-won set aside his thoughts and turned to what he could do immediately.
"Well then, shall we begin shopping?"
Yoo Jae-won opened the list reported by Vice Chairman Choi Kang-wook of Korea. The field operatives of the White Tiger Fund were elites from ID Investment, but the person in charge of operations was Choi Kang-wook. As a result, countless people sought him out, and Choi Kang-wook was working himself to the bone with an impossibly packed schedule. Beyond his own assigned duties, he carried a sense of mission as a Korean to overcome the IMF crisis, driving himself relentlessly.
The list Choi Kang-wook had sent was on an entirely different level from the ones Hwang Jae-hong had carefully selected in the past. It included Daeho Group, currently Korea's biggest issue, as well as Ilsung Electronics and even Mirae Electronics—major subsidiaries of the largest conglomerates filled the list.