The Cheonmun Acquisition
The acquisition of Cheonmun was handled at lightning speed. With the owner family's moral hazard and attempted flight by sea combined, even the complex succession procedures were pushed through in no time.
"Arthur, you've worked hard."
"Not at all. The stage was already set — all I did was sign a few papers."
I'd been cooped up at home trying to decompress from all the stress, but when I heard the acquisition was finalized, I just sent Arthur a quick congratulations and hung up.
Now Black Ridge Capital is the official owner of Cheonmun Group.
The CEO position is vacant for now, so Arthur's serving as interim head. We'll fill the seat once we find the right person.
"Come to think of it... should I change the company name?"
The barrage of negative news over the past few days had severely damaged the company's image.
> If you want to change the name, you can. Do you have anything in mind?
"Hmm... no. Let's see what we can actually can do with the company name first. Donations, whatever."
I should at least get out of the house instead of just sitting here thinking. I've been holed up for almost three days straight, and it's starting to feel suffocating.
After a long time, I went out, grabbed a bite, and dropped by the office.
"So, any good ideas?"
I had too many ideas, actually — so many that it was hard to pick the right one.
> The Oh Seong-moon family stashed away just under 2 trillion won in overseas tax havens. How about putting that to use?
"They socked away 2 trillion? Man, they really loaded up."
> How about we recover that money into the group, toss in some of our own funds, and flip public opinion through donations and support programs?
That's a good idea. It's money that came out of those bastards' pockets anyway, so using it to cover their sins feels fitting.
"I like it. As for the money... the amount's too large to just dump it all into an orphanage foundation. Let's set up a foundation under the company name and channel as much as we can toward good causes."
> A wise choice. Where should we direct the donations?
I mulled it over for a bit, and a few good ideas came to mind.
"What would have the biggest impact on public sentiment?"
> Hmm... we could focus on rare and incurable disease support, or youth assistance programs.
We should target areas that require a lot of funding but don't generate social profit — the kind of causes that are chronically underfunded.
"Don't announce the donations right away. Let's bring in the new CEO first and make the announcement together. That'd look better from every angle, right?"
> Understood. Anything else you'd like to instruct?
"Nah. I don't have anything more to add, do I?"
> No, sir. I'll proceed with this then.
A man who once served as the head of management support at one of Korea's top conglomerates. Han Jeong-woo.
But when he refused to follow the owner family's inappropriate orders and openly criticized them at the board meeting, he lost his entire career overnight. The industry branded him uncontrollable, and despite his stellar resume and track record, he couldn't return to the front lines. He went back to his hometown and helped his parents with their work.
He was stacking rice sacks from the mill outside when he spotted two large SUVs and a Maybach cutting through the rural village, heading straight for him. Cars he only saw occasionally in Seoul.
"...What's this?"
Han Jeong-woo narrowed his eyes at the unexpected motorcade. He'd suffered so much stress over the past few years that he could have tried to rebuild abroad, but instead he'd come home to help his parents. Now this random convoy.
An uneasy thought crossed his mind, but this place had too many eyes — it couldn't be that.
He set down the rice sack he was carrying and watched the vehicles. They stopped right in front of him.
'Foreigners? Why would foreigners...'
The men who stepped out of the Escalade were burly Westerners, not what he'd expected. He blinked in confusion as the Maybach door opened and a young man stepped out.
"Mr. Han Jeong-woo?"
He said his name outright, confirming that they really had come for him.
"Who are you? I'm? You don't look like you're here to buy rice."
"I'm here to buy something more precious than rice. Your time, Mr. Han Jeong-woo's time."
The young man had a clean, kind-looking face, but the words made Han Jeong-woo snort.
"My time ended five years ago. Haven't you heard the industry gossip? Anyone who hires a guy like me will find their owners clutching their chests in pain."
"That's why I'm here. I've already removed the kind of owners who would clutch their chests after seeing what you can do. Would you spare a moment to talk?"
He'd deliberately been rude, but the young man just calmly asked for his understanding. Han Jeong-woo's eyes widened.
"There are a few too many eyes out here. How about we talk inside?"
Judging by the way the foreigners around him carried themselves, this kid seemed to be from a pretty wealthy family, but he was remarkably polite.
"Well, fine. Come on in."
Han Jeong-woo led him inside and set a drink down in front of the young man.
"You seem like the son of some wealthy family. I'm afraid this place is too shabby."
"I actually like places like this, so it's fine. Would you take a look at this?"
He handed over a tablet. Han Jeong-woo turned on the screen and found a sea of numbers, graphs, and familiar logos staring back at him.
The ownership structure. The recovery of the former owner family's slush funds. Real-time proof of assets from those recovered funds.
"...I don't pay much attention to the outside world these days, but the Cheonmun affair was so big that even I heard about it. Are you the one who took over Cheonmun?"
The rumors he'd heard about Cheonmun during his time at the front lines weren't exactly positive. Yet, that same Cheonmun had essentially collapsed and been swallowed by a private equity fund. And now it hit him — this man was the real owner of Black Ridge Capital.
"That's right. I'm the owner of Black Ridge Capital, the firm that acquired Cheonmun. Though no one outside knows that."
"Why are you showing me this? I left the industry over five years ago."
"The board has been cleaned up. Someone's temporarily running the group, but he's from the financial sector and isn't suited for this side of things. That's why I need your help."
"That's a lot to take in. Setting aside the fact that you're the owner of Black Ridge... why me?"
"I've reviewed your career history. Cheonmun needs someone upright like you right now. If you accept my offer, I guarantee full autonomy as a professional manager."
Full autonomy for a professional manager. To him, that sounded like a dream.
How had it been at his last job? He'd worked under people who sat at the top of the company — people with average or below-average ability who'd only gotten there because they were born into the right bloodline — and they'd thrown every kind of tantrum imaginable before he got kicked out.
Looking at the young man in front of him — early twenties at most — if he'd built a company the size of Black Ridge, there was no way he'd done it on his own merits alone.
"I'm well aware of my own abilities. And my tendencies too. I own the company, period — I don't interfere in anything. Of course, there might be a few times when I need your help and come asking."
"Guaranteed autonomy... That sounds like a dream to someone like me. But I've never seen a chaebol actually keep that promise. Aren't you just one of them?"
He smiled bitterly and threw out a fairly rude remark. Most early-twenties chaebol sons or grandsons would lose their composure hearing something like that.
"You're misunderstanding. I'm not a chaebol. I don't have parents either. I'm just a lucky bastard."
"Then who are those men outside? From the way they move, they look like bodyguards."
"To know that, you'd at least need to sign a non-disclosure agreement... Anyway, my offer is exactly what's written there. You can even ask Arthur, who's running Black Ridge. He's on the same terms."
On the outside, he was acting like he'd given up, like he was being negative, but hearing the young man's words, his heart was pounding like crazy.
"Will you... will you really do everything you've written here?"
"Of course. I can swear on it."
All his life, he'd made decisions based on solid evidence — but there was something different about what this young man was saying.
The chaebol who'd promoted him to head of management support had said similar things, but the fundamental feeling was different.
"Could you give me a moment?"
"Of course. Should I come back in a few days?"
"It won't take that long. Give me half a day."
He'd maintained such a consistently cynical attitude the whole time that I thought I'd have to give up on this one, but toward the end of the conversation, I saw a shift in his eyes.
"...He'll take the offer, right?"
Objectively speaking, I'd made him a really good proposal, but sadly, human beings aren't creatures That act purely on rational thought.
> On the surface, he's negative and pessimistic, but he has no choice but to accept. Someone like him isn't meant to spend his life hauling rice bags in a village like this.
"He said half a day, so it should be about time for him to reach out, shouldn't it?"
I sat on a rice paddy embankment watching the sunset, feeling at ease.
Zzzzz—
My phone vibrated. Without even looking, I knew who it was.
"What does he say?"
> He says he'll come here. Said he's packed everything.
"Interesting guy. Guess I'll wait a bit."
Still, I couldn't greet him sitting on the roadside, so I stood up and dusted off my pants.
I stood there spacing out for a moment, and in the distance, I saw that man walking toward me in a suit.
"Sorry I'm late. Is that offer still valid?"
"Of course. Welcome aboard."
We shook hands, and on the drive back to Seoul, he finished signing everything.
"By the way... was there a particular reason you decided to join?"
He'd looked shaky near the end, but Han Jeong-woo had maintained a negative front the entire time.
"You know the friend who's the CEO of Neo Gate? He's an acquaintance through mutual connections. I called him and asked. When I heard that he'd received the exact same offer and was working exactly as promised, I was convinced."
"Good to hear. Still, you'll be playing on a much bigger stage than he is, so you won't have time to get bored with life."
"I heard you didn't go to him in person..."
Arthur must have sent someone to the Neo Gate CEO.
"That's right. But since you'll be leading Cheonmun, I thought it was right to come see you in person."
Not that I minded getting a little countryside healing while I was at it.
"I'm planning to hold the inauguration ceremony tomorrow morning. You can simultaneously announce the plan to return the recovered slush funds to society."
"Understood. I'll do my best."
At 9:30 AM, the first floor of Cheonmun Group headquarters in Jongno-gu, Seoul, was packed with reporters who'd gathered for a press conference. Given that the name "Cheonmun Group" had dominated the society and economy sections for the past week, and some sparks were even threatening to spread into politics, it was only natural that a flood of journalists had shown up.
"Reporter Park, I heard the CEO they're announcing today is Han Jeong-woo — is that true?"
"Who's Han Jeong-woo?"
"You know, that crazy bastard who went head-to-head with Tae-woong years ago and got fired."
The murmuring reporters fell silent as a man walked up to the podium. The man who'd been wearing comfortable clothes and working at the rice mill was nowhere to be seen. Han Jeong-woo stepped onto the podium in a perfectly fitted navy suit, his face cleanly groomed — no trace of the past five years' gap visible.
"Hello. I'm Han Jeong-woo, taking office as the CEO of Cheonmun Group as of today."
The podium was bathed in white from the camera flashes. Han Jeong-woo held his silence for a moment before speaking.
"This gathering today is not only my inauguration ceremony. It is also a moment to announce the atonement for the wrongdoings Cheonmun Group has committed over the decades it served as one pillar of the Korean economy."
Han Jeong-woo took a sip of water and continued in a calm voice.
"The previous management trampled on the law and morality for their own advancement. The result was a collapse in corporate value and losses for countless shareholders. I, Han Jeong-woo, am here today to bid farewell to Cheonmun Group's past wrong decisions."
Han Jeong-woo flicked his hand, and a large screen behind the podium lit up with complex financial transaction records.
"The audit conducted by the largest shareholder, Black Ridge Capital, has fully captured and recovered 1.89 trillion won — the slush funds the previous management had secretly accumulated and hidden in overseas tax havens over a long period. This money is not legitimate corporate profit. It existed outside the books, created through illegal means."
Nearly 2 trillion won. The reporters collectively gasped at the sum — comparable to net profit — and began hammering their keyboards.
"Representative Han! Recovering that massive amount of funds to the company would benefit the shareholders, but won't you inevitably face criticism regarding social responsibility? How do you plan to address that?"
A reporter immediately raised a hand and fired off a question.
"I believe corporate assets and shareholder social responsibility should be separate. The money belonged to Cheonmun, so it must return to Cheonmun. However, Black Ridge Capital has made a separate decision."
Han Jeong-woo smiled as if he'd expected that question and continued.
"In commemoration of the acquisition of Cheonmun and in recognition of our social responsibility, Cheonmun Group and its largest shareholder will contribute 200 billion won from our personal assets to establish an independent foundation dedicated to helping the socially disadvantaged and children with incurable diseases."
As soon as he finished speaking, the podium was once again engulfed in white flashes.