Too Much Candy
When evening came, Seoha's family headed for the main house.
The streets of 2006 Seoul flashed past the car window. In the bright spring weather, the city was showing off a brilliant, vivid energy.
Gangnam is dazzling even now.
With a few small differences here and there, it seemed Gangnam was still Gangnam after all.
Seoyun, seated in the middle of the back seat, soon drifted off to sleep. Her head tipped over onto Seoha's shoulder. When Seoha nudged her aside, she flopped the other way, only to lean back a moment later and settle her head right against her again.
Sigh. This little rascal.
This was hardly the time to be dealing with that.
In 2008, Haewon Group would slam headfirst into the financial crisis. As its flagship subsidiary, Haewon Electronics, wobbled, the crisis would spread through the entire group. The financial affiliates would be sold off one by one, and even the hotel and department store would be carved into pieces for disposal.
Her father would step down, taking the fall for the financial division's losses, and the company her grandfather had built over a lifetime would pass into the hands of the creditors. The Jang family's stake would all but vanish.
What would remain for them was a handful of leftover affiliates and a modest portion of the family's assets.
Even that would be more than enough to live comfortably, though…
Honestly, those leftover assets alone amounted to wealth ordinary people couldn't even imagine. Sums no amount of lottery winnings could ever touch.
…But knowing all this, am I really supposed to just sit here and do nothing?
If the group had fallen apart because Grandfather's management was catastrophically bad, there would be nothing anyone could do. But as far as Seoha remembered, Haewon Group was not a conglomerate that had vanished simply from managerial incompetence. It was a company that had made aggressive investments during a boom and then couldn't climb over the wave called the global financial crisis in time.
If anything, Grandfather is a genuinely capable executive.
Not because he doted on Seoha—later generations' assessments said the same.
What sank Haewon Group was the financial crisis, yes, but…
Semiconductors. That's the real problem.
The semiconductor chicken game. Along with the Lehman collapse of 2008, it was the mountain Haewon Group would have to cross.
And Seoha…
Since I was reborn as the granddaughter of a chaebol group, it'd be downright unfair if it all went under, wouldn't it?
Her goal in this life: to eat well and live well. And while she was at it, to live in style as the granddaughter of a chaebol family. She was burning with resolve to make it happen.
People had already gathered at the main house.
"There's my Seoha."
Her grandmother, Han Myeongsook, was the first to greet her.
"Hello, Grandmother."
"Here comes our birthday girl."
When Han Myeongsook moved to scoop her into her arms, Seoha went to her obediently. It had felt awkward at first, but she'd long since grown used to it.
"Where's Grandfather?"
"He's inside, talking with your uncle."
In the living room, her uncle Jang Youngjun and his son Jang Taeyun had already arrived, and the family of her aunt, Jang Sukyung, was there as well. As always, the adults exchanged their usual greetings and settled into seats around the room.
Seoha sat beside her grandmother. She was nominally the guest of honor, but there wasn't much for her to actually do. She was a six-year-old squirt, at an age where eating well and going to kindergarten regularly was already exceeding expectations. In a few years, the adults would start pestering her about studying and studying abroad, but for now, listening to their well-wishes and collecting presents was about the full extent of her duties.
Before long, the meal began. True to its purpose—a birthday feast for the granddaughter Chairman Jang Taeguk adored—the table was quite lavish. Not that the people seated around it seemed particularly impressed.
Among relatives who hadn't seen one another in a while, the talk began with ordinary small talk. School stories about the children, accounts of who had traveled where, that sort of thing. The hotel had decided to bring in a new head chef from abroad, apparently.
Then, quite naturally, the conversation drifted toward business.
"Father, Electronics had a better quarter than we expected."
It was Jang Youngjun who spoke. At the head of the table, Jang Taeguk raised his head.
"Memory? I've seen the report."
"Yes. Server demand is strong, and mobile demand keeps climbing as well."
"Good. And the pricing?"
"We expect it to hold steady for the time being."
Jang Taeguk gave a slow nod. Seoha silently spooned up her seaweed soup. She'd heard this story many times already—the semiconductor boom, rising demand, strong earnings. The early tremors of the great semiconductor rally that always came before the chicken game.
Jang Youngjun continued.
"This went up in the report just now, so—to that end, I believe the new line should proceed on schedule."
Seoha's spoon stopped.
"Is that so? I haven't seen it yet. What's the scale?"
Jang Taeguk asked. Youngjun answered, "We're looking at an option to enlarge it somewhat from the original plan. Since we're building anyway, it's more efficient to future-proof the line for leading-edge processes at the same time."
"It'll cost a hell of a lot of money."
This time, Jang Taeguk's gaze shifted to Jang Youngmin. Youngmin set down his water glass and replied.
"Electronics has its own cash reserves, and financing capacity is more than sufficient. We would need to watch the growing share of foreign-currency borrowing, though."
"At today's rates, borrowing is practically free money. Nobody runs a business without leveraging someone else's cash."
Jang Youngjun said. Youngmin conceded with a shrug. "Well, for now, it's manageable."
2006: the decision to massively expand Haewon Electronics' production capacity. It would later be cited as one of the starting points of Haewon Group's downfall.
Of course, a company doesn't collapse just because it built one factory. The problem was what came after.
The market was good, so competitors would expand too—especially Taiwan's semiconductor companies, pouring out money with state backing, literally by the fistful. Production would rise, and supply eventually overshooting demand was the natural course of things.
Memory prices would collapse catastrophically, but Haewon, already committed to its factories, wouldn't be able to stop easily. On top of that, the financial affiliates would pile into overseas derivatives and real estate project financing—all on the premise that the boom would continue.
And then, 2008. That premise would collapse all at once. Semiconductor losses. Exchange rates. Foreign-currency debt. Financial losses. Project financing. All the way down to a liquidity crisis.
Haewon Group had survived the IMF crisis, but faced with this second wave, it would finally go under—or so Seoha remembered it.
In other words, Haewon Group was currently sailing its ship straight into a storm. And Seoha was one of its passengers—trapped in the body of a small child who couldn't do a single thing about it.
"Seoha, dear."
Her grandmother, beside her, called out. Seoha lifted her head.
"Hm?"
"Why aren't you eating?"
"I am eating."
"You've been holding that spoon for ages."
Only then did Seoha realize she'd been frozen mid-motion. She'd been concentrating on the adults' conversation too hard.
"I was just… thinking about something."
From across the table, Jang Taeguk let out a hearty chuckle. "What could a six-year-old have to think so hard about?"
The adults' eyes all turned toward Seoha. On any ordinary day, she would have let it slide with some vague answer. But not today.
Because the golden window for Haewon Group to survive had not yet closed.
This was the plan she'd been quietly building ever since she'd gained enough control over this little body. And today, she decided, was the day she would start putting it into motion.
Seoha looked for a moment at her grandfather, Chairman Jang Taeguk. The company was at its very peak right now. Once this year ended, it would likely post the best results in its history. Grandfather knew that all too well—that was exactly why he wanted to invest even more.
Semiconductors had always been a winner-takes-it-all industry, where the victor claimed everything. Japan's semiconductor companies had already demonstrated the lesson back in the 1980s.
And I can't exactly come out and say a financial crisis is coming.
Even Michael Burry—the man whose fame as the master of the short position spread across the world through the film The Big Short, the idol of the short-selling gentlemen themselves—was, at this very moment, eating through his margin day by day, drumming his fingers and praying for nothing more than the market to please, please crash.
The only thing she could say now had to be an innocent question, asked from the viewpoint of a six-year-old. But one that cut straight to the heart of the matter.
"Grandfather."
"Yes?"
"Do other companies build factories too?"
The table went quiet for a moment. Jang Taeguk raised an eyebrow.
"Factories?"
"Uncle said you're building a new one."
"He did, didn't he."
"Do other companies build them too?"
Jang Youngjun laughed. "Our Seoha's been listening to the grown-ups' business talk, has she?"
Seoha nodded. "Yes."
"They do. Everyone's building. The product sells well."
"A lot of them?"
"A lot."
Seoha asked again. "Then what happens if there's too much of the product?"
Every gaze at the table swung to Jang Youngjun. This time, even he didn't answer right away. After a slight hesitation, he replied with an odd expression on his face.
"That can happen. That's why the adults analyze the market."
"But everyone's building because they all think it'll sell well, right?"
"That's right."
"Then what if everyone's wrong?"
At Seoha's words, Jang Taeguk's gaze turned to his granddaughter.
"What put that idea in your head, Seoha?"
Seoha shrugged. "Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"I like candy. And Seoyun likes candy too. But even if there were a gigantic mountain of candy, I don't think we'd buy all of it."
At her answer, the corner of Jang Taeguk's mouth lifted slightly.
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Who taught you to think like this, hm?"
"Nobody."
Seoha picked up her spoon again. "It just seemed that way."
Jang Taeguk asked nothing more. Before long the meal resumed, and Jang Youngjun smoothly moved on to another topic.
On the surface, it was a conversation about nothing at all. Still, Seoha was satisfied—because she had seen her grandfather, who had been leaning back comfortably in his chair just moments before, sit up and take his back off the rest.
And a man like her grandfather would have caught the meaning buried in her words. Of course he would—the 1980s semiconductor chicken game among Japan's companies, the fall of the American semiconductor industry, and the company that grew fat on the fishermen's spoils amid it all: Samsung Electronics and Hyundai Electronics.
And Haewon Electronics.
One down, for now.
She'd tossed a small pebble into the water.
After the meal came the cake. Five candles were lit. Seoyun was the most excited of anyone.
"Seoha! The fire!"
"I know."
"Whoosh—blow!"
"I'm doing it. Play with fire and you'll wet the bed, you know."
"Me too!"
"It's my birthday, so I do it."
"Together!"
"No."
Seoyun's cheeks were already puffing out like bread rolls. Seoha narrowed her eyes the instant her sister was about to blast out a breath—
and clapped her hand over the girl's mouth.
"Mmph!"
Then, quick as a flash—whooosh—she snuffed out the candles herself.
"You have to make a wish, dear."
Grandmother said.
A wish…
Seoha gazed at the candle flames. In this life, if there was something she wanted to buy, she would buy it. If there was something she wanted to eat, she would eat it. If there was somewhere she wanted to go, she would go. She would live loving whatever she loved, to her heart's content.
Mm. And as the granddaughter of a chaebol family, if at all possible.
Seoha looked past the candles at her family. Her mom and dad, smiling. Her little sister, whimpering and straining to pry Seoha's hand off her mouth. And a little ways off sat her grandfather.
People she had never once had in her previous life.
Family.
First, let's start by protecting them.
That was the wish Seoha made.