Chapter 185: You Have to Speak Your Mind and Live
The negotiations with Mirae Motors dragged on intensely until late into the night.
Chairman Jin Myeong-il, the presidents of the affiliates, and even Jin Yoo-kyung attended the meeting.
“I agree with the idea of enhancing safety even in compact cars. But if the price goes up, consumers won’t like it.”
The comment came from a managing director at Mirae Motors.
The automobile industry depended on manufacturing, so its executives were extremely sensitive to production costs.
“I’m not too familiar with this, but how much does an airbag sensor cost?”
“It varies by order volume and sensor grade, but it’s just under two dollars each.”
The managing director answered immediately.
As an executive at a major corporation, he stood near the top of the ladder for salaried employees.
“So, to save money, you install only two airbag sensors in compact cars? Even though the public already criticizes them for deploying only when the impact angle is just right?”
The managing director maintained a neutral expression despite the pointed question.
“It’s all to accommodate the needs of consumers buying compact cars…”
“Chevy Spark has six airbag sensors. Consumers naturally want more sensors. Aren’t airbags a crucial safety feature in accidents?”
“…”
Compared with competing models, the decision was indefensible.
Some vehicle options were genuinely expensive, but many that looked costly amounted to almost nothing when purchased at scale.
A company the size of Mirae Motors bought components in enormous quantities at low prices.
“What is the point of building luxury cars to compete with German brands if you pinch pennies where you should not? Customers end up tearing you apart for cutting corners.”
I felt myself becoming as worked up as I did when confronting politicians, but I did not want to hold back.
Someone had to say it to Mirae Motors’ executives.
“People once spoke of food, clothing, and shelter as the essentials of life. Cars belong on that list now. Families travel in them, and people rely on them to commute. Seoul has excellent public transportation, but cars are indispensable in many regions.”
I addressed the chairman of Mirae Motors, its presidents, managing directors, executive directors, and the heads of its affiliates.
Back at Arcor, I could not even have met their eyes, but that was then.
“The cars Mirae Motors builds carry parents and children. An accident can cause permanent injury or death. You say a safety feature costing a few hundred thousand won is too expensive, yet do you truly want to save only a few thousand won per vehicle?”
“Well…”
“And you don’t even lower the selling price with those savings, do you?”
“…”
The managing director fell silent.
His silence only fueled my lingering anger.
“I saw online that in the US, you make anti-theft devices an option.”
“That’s to give customers more choices.”
“You know teen joyriding in Mirae cars became a trend in the US? Because security is so lax, they’re easy to steal.”
“…”
How many sins had Mirae Motors committed? There were far too many to count.
A quick internet search revealed endless examples of petty cost-cutting: removing side-mirror defrosters during model changes, deleting steering-wheel emblems, downgrading air-conditioning vents, and omitting the passenger light.
The list continued with missing washer-fluid warnings, no passenger-side keyhole, cheaper brake pads, and aluminum pedals replaced with inferior parts.
They were all tiny savings that customers might not notice immediately.
These practices were precisely what had made me hesitate after deciding to partner with Mirae Motors.
“Cost-cutting isn’t bad. Companies need profits, but there’s a line you don’t cross. Earth Car won’t do any of these shady cuts.”
The meeting was supposed to establish the principles behind Earth Car.
I was criticizing Mirae Motors harshly, but I needed to say what I believed.
The possibility that the partnership might collapse crossed my mind.
‘If they want to scrap it, fine.’
Profit was not everything.
What kind of partnership would it be if I could not even speak honestly?
* * *
“That insolent bastard. Father, are you just going to let him get away with that?”
As soon as Kim Shin left, Jin Tae-seop exploded.
He had repeatedly forced himself to remain silent while Kim Shin criticized Mirae Motors.
“He has no manners for someone in business.”
Because Chairman Jin Myeong-il had remained silent, Jin Tae-seop had bottled up his anger, but he could not shake his sense of injustice.
He had even assumed that speaking up would earn him points with Jin Myeong-il...
‘Guess not?’
Jin Myeong-il’s gaze was ice-cold.
“Jin Tae-seop.”
Jin Myeong-il’s low voice made him tremble.
“You only know half of what Mirae Group is.”
“Pardon?”
Jin Tae-seop shrank back.
For the acknowledged heir, being told that he understood only half of the group was a severe rebuke.
His younger brothers, Jin Min-seop and Jin Woo-seop, were also present.
Each of them ran a Mirae Motors affiliate, and both stiffened as they gauged the mood.
Mirae Group followed the principle of primogeniture.
Jin Tae-seop’s position as heir appeared secure, but his brothers would gladly seize any opportunity to replace him.
“Do you know what Mirae Group is? Do you know how my grandfather, called King Chairman, founded it?”
“Yes. He began with nothing, took over a rice shop through hard work, and then founded an automobile-repair shop. That was the beginning of Mirae Group. He expanded into construction and earned foreign currency in the Middle East when Korea’s economy was faltering. Then he risked everything on Saudi Arabia’s Jubail Industrial Port, the world’s largest project at the time, worth 945 million dollars. That put Mirae Construction on the global map and moved Korea’s construction industry into higher-value work.”
Jin Tae-seop recited crisply.
The founder’s stories had been memorized by every member of the family.
Jin Tae-seop believed that Korea’s economy could not have developed without Mirae Group advancing construction, shipbuilding, and automobiles.
“Correct. To build Mirae Group, my grandfather even scoured Cheonggyecheon for discarded US military toilets.”
Jin Myeong-il deliberately skipped over the glorious parts of the story.
“And what happened in the Middle East? He bowed his head to Arab clients every day to win a single construction contract. That is how Mirae Group was built. Should an entrepreneur place honor and pride above profit?”
“…”
Mirae Motors Group was very different from Isung Group.
Isung was so large, and the owner family’s stake so diluted, that succession was difficult.
Mirae Motors had secured controlling stakes early through favorable deals, making inheritance possible.
Even so, Jin Myeong-il constantly watched and tested his potential heirs.
“Yoo-kyung.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“What’s our job?”
“We must commit ourselves fully to Earth Car and build a cutting-edge factory that surpasses Tesla’s.”
Jin Yoo-kyung answered crisply.
She felt her brothers’ glares but ignored them.
She might not inherit the group, but this was the path Mirae Motors needed to follow.
Kim Shin also occupied a significant place in her heart.
“Why should we focus on the Earth Car factory?”
“Because it can allow Mirae Motors to leap forward by two or three stages.”
“How?”
He questioned her as though conducting a high-pressure interview.
Even his own children were constantly tested and required to prove their worth.
“Earth Car will not lack capital. Kim Shin can recruit leading electric-vehicle developers from Silicon Valley. If we build an ultramodern factory with them and develop next-generation vehicles, we can absorb their technology and apply their expertise to Mirae Motors.”
“Giga Press?”
“Yes. Tesla’s Giga Press is only one example. Electric vehicles use fewer components and have simpler structures. Online sales also improve margins, and Mirae Motors must move in that direction.”
“Changing sales isn’t easy.”
“Then we will change it little by little. The world is changing.”
Kim Shin wanted Mirae Motors’ manufacturing processes and technology.
In return, Mirae would receive equity in Earth Car, cash, and access to new technology through the collaboration.
“Yoo-kyung has vision. Good girl.”
Jin Myeong-il nodded.
In that day’s test, Jin Yoo-kyung had outperformed her brothers.
An owner had to read the situation and bow when necessary for the sake of future success.
Jin Myeong-il had only one concern.
‘Yoo-kyung and Kim Shin might be too much.’
Kim Shin had amassed astronomical investment gains and built his business in less than two years.
People did not change overnight, but a great deal could change in two years.
Kim Shin boldly demanded what he needed while, above all, following what he believed was the right path.
‘Kim Shin thinks of customers, not just money.’
He did not begin by asking what kind of car would make the most money.
He asked what kind of car would best serve the customer.
That was why he had confronted Mirae Motors over its past failings and demanded that Earth Car correct them.
Jin Myeong-il kept watching Kim Shin.
Jin Tae-seop saw only an attack; he could not see the reasoning behind it or the absence of personal hostility.
They were simply strong words about what lay ahead.
‘As Yoo-kyung says, Earth Car could leapfrog Mirae Motors.’
Jin Myeong-il thought he must stay sharp.
If Earth Car launched in three or four years, its technology and production capacity could surpass Mirae Motors.
If Mirae grew complacent, it could be reduced to a mere subcontractor.
* * *
I returned to Hannam-dong after an all-night meeting at Mirae Motors.
The empty apartment felt vast.
At more than one hundred pyeong, the penthouse was genuinely enormous.
“Can’t just crash like this.”
I turned on the PlayStation and played a round of Gran Turismo.
I deliberately drove an electric vehicle around the circuit while I thought.
‘I want to build great cars.’
I had never had a childhood dream like that.
Life had given me many opportunities, and I was finally turning them into reality.
My heart still racing, I fell asleep and did not wake until morning.
* * *
“Work’s way too easy these days.”
“Amazing, right?”
“Yeah.”
They were security guards at the Hannam-dong apartment complex.
The complex, one of the most expensive in Korea, employed guards ranging from their twenties to their forties.
Residents often treated them like servants.
“Park this for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Residents called on the guards for valet parking, food-delivery handoffs, and even help moving furniture.
Those services were included in the maintenance fees, and most high-income residents were at least polite when asking.
Then Kim Shin, who owned two penthouses, moved in.
The guards had expected managing the paparazzi at the entrance to become a nightmare.
“This is the photo line.”
“Got it.”
“Don’t snap pics freely—residents might complain. No interviews either.”
“No worries.”
The guards had not expected the Korean reporters to be so cooperative.
The residents’ attitudes changed overnight.
Those who had once ignored greetings now smiled warmly in return.
Parents instructed their children to bow to the guards.
Coffee and other drinks began appearing regularly at the guard booth.
“No noise complaints either.”
“Everyone’s careful.”
The complex was home to ministers, executives, and celebrities.
Petty disputes and quiet rivalries had once been constant, but now everything was serene.
The wealthy and powerful had become more cautious than ever.