Giant Killer
The future of the Mirae Group hinged on Mirae Construction, its core pillar. Analysts predicted that whoever filled the vacant chairman’s seat among Chairman Jeon Myeong-heon’s sons would decisively shape the group’s succession. Political circles leaned toward the second son, Jeon Jae-gu, though whispers suggested the sixth son, Jeon Jae-jun, was rising fast.
Succession? What was this about? In his previous life, this had all unfolded in the year 2000. The war among the Jeon brothers over the Mirae Group’s succession had been dubbed the “Princes’ Rebellion.” Jeon Myeong-heon’s sons had waged a brutal battle over shares for the throne. In the end, there was no clear victor, and the once-mighty Mirae Group splintered into three separate companies.
The root cause was simple: Chairman Jeon Myeong-heon had passed away without establishing a clear succession plan. The process had stalled when his eldest son, Jeon Jae-cheol, died in an unexpected accident while overseeing the handover. The work had been roughly halfway complete, but with the designated heir gone, everything ground to a halt. The accident occurred around 1982. There had been ample time to select a new successor, yet Chairman Jeon never did. He had six children, five of them sons, but none besides the eldest had ever truly satisfied him.
Still, he had created vice president and director positions at the group’s key subsidiaries, forcing his children into open competition. Now, the unexpectedly vacant Mirae Construction chairmanship threatened to ignite the succession war a full decade early. Chairman Jeon was still in good health, and many of his loyal retainers remained. Fragmentation was the worst possible outcome for a founder, so the odds favored the emergence of a single successor capable of unifying the entire group.
“This could get interesting.”
Though the butterfly effect he had triggered had caused this, Yoo Jae-won felt no concern. If anything, he regretted that he lacked the capital to position himself for a slice of the profits. Still, the unfolding drama was the sort of spectacle best enjoyed with popcorn. He looked forward to the coming news. At the same time, a sense of caution stirred within him.
By removing that man through a three-cushion maneuver, he had inadvertently sparked the Mirae Group’s succession battle. Last year, when he had used computer simulations to predict Olympic outcomes and earned his father’s and President Hyun Mi-yu’s trust, no major variables had appeared in reality. Now that his presence had grown significantly, his influence had become substantial. Any major deviation in the future’s flow would be troublesome for him. He would have to tread carefully until ID Group was firmly established. Of course, if another such situation arose, he would not hesitate. Removing the former Mirae Construction chairman had always been a key objective in his master plan.
The reasons were clear. The man had accumulated many demerits, but the most decisive was his attempt to privatize and pollute the internet. The largest business domain Yoo Jae-won’s ID Group would claim was the internet itself. In its early days, the internet had carried a culture of mutual respect between users, inherited from the well-mannered chat culture of PC communications. Then came the double-edged sword of anonymity, and malicious comments began to appear. Such comments were an inevitable side effect of the internet age. Yet the man had been the one who weaponized them at the national level, mobilizing the National Intelligence Service and the military to devastate online communities and pressuring portals and major community sites to manufacture favorable public opinion.
For Yoo Jae-won, who aimed to build a world-class internet company, the man was the worst possible adversary. That was why, while drafting his master plan while awaiting death in his previous life, he had concluded that the man must be eliminated before he could become a true giant. Fortunately, he had met Chairman Jeon Myeong-heon earlier than expected and managed to topple the man without major incident. The man himself might not realize it, but the current method was actually the kinder one. The version stored in his Memory Palace had been far more violent.
ID Investment, Field Manager Hwang Jae-hong.
Before heading to the meeting with the owner of the farmland that had been put up for sale, Hwang Jae-hong pulled his business card from his inner pocket and examined it several times. Every time he looked at it, he felt a sense of wonder. The English letters “ID” were printed in silver foil, while “Investment” appeared in Korean Gothic type. Beneath them were the unfamiliar title “Field Manager” and his own name. On the back were the office phone number and address, printed in small letters. He had shed his identity as a real estate swindler and secured a proper, respectable job.
The amount of money he was handling reached a staggering 4.5 billion won—an enormous sum that someone like him, a mere worm, could never have obtained even after rolling around for a hundred years. Moreover, it was not money he could only look at, like salted fish hung out to dry by a miser. Although limited to the Bundang area, whenever he identified a promising plot of land, the purchase process began immediately. The purchase price was also more generous than what others offered. There was no need to resort to the underhanded tactics he had used during his days as a speculative real estate agent.
Hwang Jae-hong’s Crown sedan glided to a smooth stop at the destination. He stepped into the tearoom that served as the meeting place.
“Ah, Director, you’ve arrived!”
Thanks to the situation, he heard the title “Director” more than once. He had tried to correct people several times, saying he was merely a manager, but the rural folk preferred to call him Director rather than the unfamiliar title of manager. Because Hwang Jae-hong’s method of acquiring land involved sellers who had received high prices introducing others, the word “Director” had instantly become his de facto title.
At first, he had felt uneasy. However, the real director, Yoo Jae-won, and Yoo Jae-won’s parents—who came to stamp the contracts—placed little importance on titles. They had told him it was actually better this way, comparing it to how new recruits in the military police were sometimes given the next rank early. Furthermore, they said that once the company grew, founding members who proved their ability would have no trouble becoming executives or even directors. If he already felt secure now, what would it be like if he truly became a director? His motivation surged to 120 percent.
For this deal, he sat across from the other party with a combative posture, determined to achieve the best possible outcome.
“Well, well? Who’s this? It’s Jae-hong!”
The voice was familiar. After bowing in greeting, Hwang Jae-hong looked up to see a familiar face seated beside an elderly farmer. It was Chae Mu-seong, a senior who had once worked in the same line of business with him. The man’s mouth hung open in clear astonishment.
“So the big shot who’s been sweeping up land around the Tancheon River was you, Jae-hong?”
He was so shocked that he remained frozen with his finger pointed at Hwang Jae-hong. It was understandable. Hwang Jae-hong, who was already being called “Director” throughout Bundang, had become something of a local celebrity. The cumulative amount he had spent purchasing farmland already exceeded two billion won. It would have been strange if rumors had not spread.
“Senior Mu-seong, it’s been a while. Are you handling the brokerage for the elder’s land?”
“Huh? Oh! That’s right.”
Chae Mu-seong was also in the business, though his standing was slightly higher than Hwang Jae-hong’s. That was because he held a legitimate real estate brokerage license. Setting up a real estate office in a prime location within a growing city could bring in easy money. If one avoided distractions, one could buy a car, a house, and live comfortably. However, Chae Mu-seong had wanted more than a house—he had wanted his own building. Earning brokerage fees alone would never be enough to construct a building. With no major windfalls on the horizon and his spending habits having grown, returning to his original trade of brokerage was only natural.
Moreover, while the Bundang real estate market had been ordinary, the recent appearance of a big spender touring land and actually closing deals had raised suspicions. Chae Mu-seong knew the elder Mr. Ko and had joined the meeting by offering to handle the brokerage at a reduced commission. Seeing Hwang Jae-hong appear at that meeting had been a genuine shock.
For Hwang Jae-hong, however, the man was not particularly welcome. Although they had worked together, they had never been close enough to set aside time to catch up. Chae Mu-seong, with his brokerage license, had treated Hwang Jae-hong and others like errand boys and had even refused to share meals with them. Now their positions had completely reversed.
The elder Mr. Ko wanted to sell his farmland because the government’s rice price policy made farming unprofitable. The plot was so large that no one besides Hwang Jae-hong had shown interest in purchasing it. It was a vast 100,000-pyeong farmland in Jeongja-dong along the Tancheon River. Because it bordered the river, it was valued higher than farmland near mountains. The recent offer had been 4,800 won per pyeong, but the buyer was willing to match 5,000 won per pyeong. It was an offer too good to refuse. The total transaction value reached a substantial 500 million won.
Unable to handle such a large deal alone, Mr. Ko had naturally called upon Chae Mu-seong, whom he knew. Just as Hwang Jae-hong was explaining the payment method in detail, Chae Mu-seong interrupted.
“If I may ask, what do you intend to do with such a large plot of farmland?”
Chae Mu-seong, who had been sitting in stunned silence, suddenly spoke up. Mr. Ko shot him a glare, as if to say the documents only needed proper review and there was no need to interfere with a smoothly progressing deal. Yet Chae Mu-seong remained firm, insisting he needed to hear the reason.
Hwang Jae-hong suppressed a sneer at the man’s attitude. There were rumors that the government was planning new towns to address Seoul’s severe housing shortage, with Ilsan and Bundang among the likely candidates. Hwang Jae-hong’s aggressive spending had lent credibility to those rumors, but there was no certainty. Chae Mu-seong wanted to know whether Hwang Jae-hong had heard anything from higher-ups about the new town plans, but he had enough sense to ask indirectly.
“If they planned to build, they would have bought commercial or residential land. Buying farmland only makes sense for farming. Of course, it might one day be rezoned as green space, but no one knows when that will happen.”
“That’s true. I’ve been waiting and waiting, and now I’ve grown old. Even if I hand the land over to your company and the green space designation is lifted a few days later, I won’t regret it.”
Mr. Ko shot Chae Mu-seong another reproachful look and quickly continued speaking. Chae Mu-seong seemed to have more to say, but the atmosphere made it impossible for him to intervene. Thanks to that, the final contract was quickly prepared.
“We’ll deposit 50 million won as the down payment right now. The chairman’s parents will come tomorrow to stamp the contract on his behalf, and once the registration is complete, we’ll pay the remaining balance in full.”
“My, you’re as straightforward as they say.”
“It’s not me who’s straightforward, Director. It’s your own generous nature.”
After completing the provisional contract and confirming the deposit via phone call to the bank, Mr. Ko wrote out a receipt. “Well then, see you tomorrow!” With the money secured, the seventy-year-old man walked away with a vigor completely unlike that of most men his age.
“Let’s talk for a moment.”
Hwang Jae-hong was about to leave when Chae Mu-seong, who had remained seated until the end, stopped him. Ignoring the man would have been easy, but their past connection made him sit back down.
“My, our little rice cake has grown up so much. You just closed a 500-million-won deal in one sitting. You must have found yourself an incredible moneybags, huh?”
A sigh escaped Hwang Jae-hong at Chae Mu-seong’s words.