A Woman's Obsession (1)
Kim Chirok's family owned no real estate. They didn't even have a home of their own — they lived on monthly rent, among the city's working poor.
When he joined the company, Chirok had been unable to submit a guarantor's property tax assessment certificate. Even a modest townhouse would have generated such a document, but they had nothing of the kind. So he had substituted a surety insurance company's guarantee in its place.
Small companies never asked for a guarantor's property tax certificate. Some conglomerates, however, did — especially of people whose jobs involved handling money. At H Group, submitting the certificate with one's hiring paperwork was written into the company regulations.
A flush of embarrassment crept through him. Failing to produce his parents' property tax certificate was proof of poverty, plain and simple. Colleagues like Jeong Chan-young, who lived in luxury apartments in Gangnam, would have paid hefty property taxes. And if those families owned additional real estate besides their apartments, the bills would have been steeper still. The company could take one look at that document and take the measure of a man's parents.
Why would someone at the level of President bring that up now, as if she didn't already know? Why mention the guarantor's property tax certificate at all?
Kim Chirok wondered whether the smile on President Jeong-hee's face had been a sneer.
Was she smiling because she was thinking, How poor must he have been, that he couldn't even submit a guarantor's property tax certificate with his hiring papers? Using a surety insurance policy was perfectly acceptable. It wasn't a disqualifying factor.
Then again, there was another way to read it. Maybe she had smiled because she thought he was impressive — a kid from a family with nothing who had still graduated from Seoul National University. Either way, he couldn't settle his mind.
What does it matter, as long as you do the job well after you're hired? Why demand a document like that? Plenty of companies don't even ask for it.
With that thought, Kim Chirok looked at President Jeong-hee with a stiff expression. She closed the approval folder, rose from her seat, and extended her hand.
"Now that you're here, I expect you to work hard. I have high hopes for our open-recruitment employees."
A rich perfume drifted from her as she stood.
So it wasn't a sneer? She's giving me credit for clawing my way into a SKY university from a household with nothing?
Kim Chirok left President Jeong-hee's office. Director Jang called him over.
"What did President Jeong-hee ask you?"
"She just told me to work hard, and that she has high expectations for the open-recruitment staff."
"Is that so?"
Director Jang tilted his head, wearing the look of a man who didn't quite believe that was all.
The next day, Kim Chirok received financial data on H Group's subsidiaries from Assistant Manager Song. The group had more than thirty affiliated companies, but for now he had only been given materials on six of them.
"You did a lot of management analysis at H Chemical, didn't you?"
"I did."
"Then you'll handle this just fine. A second-year with real experience like you is a lot better than some clueless new hire. After you analyze the numbers, though, you'll also need to put forward opinions — things like future direction."
"Understood."
"And our Strategic Planning Office also has an audit function."
"Ah, is that so?"
"At H Chemical you only dealt with a single company. Here, we look at the entire group. If something looks suspicious after a management analysis, we can go out on an audit right away."
"Hmm. I see."
"And if you do go out on an audit, the subsidiaries will probably wine and dine you."
"Are we allowed to accept that?"
"You can't take envelopes of cash, but if they buy you a meal, that's fine. Play it right and you might even get a taste of the finest delicacies from all eight provinces."
"I see."
"Among the company materials I handed you, H Distribution's inventory assets and accounts receivable have been growing unusually fast compared to the previous period. That's worth checking into."
"Got it. I'll keep a close eye on it."
"If an order comes down to establish a new business while you're in the middle of management analysis, you'll have to drop everything and handle that instead. A task force gets assembled to draft the business plan. Right now, though, there's no new-business directive."
"Understood."
"I'll swing by the computer room for a bit. There's a file I need to pick up."
"Sure. Go ahead."
Kim Chirok began examining the materials Assistant Manager Song had given him in detail, pulling up supplementary data on the company intranet as well. At H Chemical, he had had no access to other companies' information. Here in the Strategic Planning Office, he had been granted administrator privileges — he could see everything.
He was in the thick of it when the phone rang. It was his cohort, Jeong Chan-young.
"It's me. You show up and you don't even come say hello?"
"Ah, I just got a new batch of work assigned. I've been swamped."
"Well, welcome to the office. We joined the company together, but I was the only one who ended up in Strategic Planning. Honestly, I felt bad about that."
Sorry, my ass. If you got here on Daddy's connections, you ought to enjoy the perks without the guilt trip.
"Don't be. There was plenty to learn at H Chemical too."
"Your mentor's Assistant Manager Song Yi-hwan, right?"
"That's right."
"That bastard hasn't been talking shit about me, has he?"
"Not that I've heard."
"Assistant Manager Song looks at me a little sideways. He's an assistant manager, sure — but he doesn't need to puff his chest out at me, does he? Just wait. By the time I make Manager, he and I will be at the same rank."
If you've got a daddy-pass like his, I suppose that's how it goes.
Assistant Manager Song was in his second year at that rank, and several years older than either Kim Chirok or Jeong Chan-young — three or four years, at least. But the idea that they would be equals once Jeong made Manager sent a chill through him. Kim Chirok said,
"You're in charge of protocol, right?"
"The secretaries handle the day-to-day. I only step in for protocol support when VIPs come in from overseas."
"So the higher-ups must be fond of you."
"I hear I do good work. Ability in a company isn't just about what school you went to or what grades you got."
Hmm. Sounds like this guy's taking a shot at me for being a Seoul National University grad.
"That's true. Corporate ability is a different animal."
"Oh, by the way — the alumni are getting together next Saturday. You should come."
"All of them?"
"No, just the Dogok Clique."
The Dogok Clique referred to the friends who had grown up in Dogok-dong — not the ones from Daechi-dong or Yeoksam-dong. Some of them had since moved elsewhere, but for convenience they still called themselves the Dogok Clique.
Those same friends had once shut him out because he lived in a semi-basement apartment. Now that he had gotten into Seoul National University and was working in a chaebol group's Strategic Planning Office, they included him.
Out in the real world, Kim Chirok had learned the hard way how much connections mattered. He wanted to hold on to his alumni network, at least. His classmates had good careers; they were wealthy products of the Gangnam 8th School District, and their fathers' professions were formidable. He wasn't about to let that network go — even if, back in school, they had treated him like an outcast and ignored him like a dog.
"All right. I'll be there Saturday. Where are we meeting?"
"An izakaya near Gangnam Station. Your old nemesis, Attorney Lim Jae-geun, will be there too."
"Since when is Lim Jae-geun my nemesis?"
"Heh heh. Wasn't he?"
To this day, Kim Chirok ground his teeth at the mention of Lim Jae-geun, the prosecutor's son. The scar on his head from Lim's beatings was still there, like a medal he could never take off. But he couldn't let that show.
Meeting up with friends meant spending money. Drinks at a Gangnam izakaya would add up even if they went Dutch. For someone putting three million won a month into a savings account to buy a home, it was no small burden. Still, he didn't want to abandon the network. Among those alumni were a prosecutor's son, a hospital director's son, and — currently on the other end of this call — a conglomerate president's son.
The next day arrived. He was working at the office when the phone rang again. This time it was Oh Ha-young, from the General Affairs Department at H Chemical in Incheon.
"Oh my, how is it that you never get in touch?"
"Excuse me?"
"We agreed to meet at the midpoint between Guwol-dong in Incheon and Bongcheon-dong in Seoul. Near Sindorim Station, remember?"
"Ah, th-that..."
"Come out this Saturday evening. You know the Pascucci across the street from Sindorim Station? Let's meet there at five."
"I, uh, I don't think I'll be free this Saturday..."
"Don't lie to me. I'll be waiting."
And with that, Oh Ha-young hung up unilaterally.
Meeting Oh Ha-young filled Kim Chirok with a strange sense of burden. She was the only daughter of a family that owned a hotel — he could have leaned on them for financial help — but that wasn't the path he wanted.
The alumni gathering is next week, so it's not like I'm actually busy this Saturday... Should I just meet her once, no strings attached?
From his place in Bongcheon-dong, Sindorim Station was only six subway stops. Nothing too burdensome. And this time, he decided, he would drop a subtle hint that she should stop calling. No matter how he looked at it, Oh Ha-young's personality was too aggressive for his taste. Kim Chirok liked women who were intellectual and demure. And honestly, the fact that she hadn't gone to a good university bothered him too. So did the way she led with her father's wealth.
I may not have money, but I've got my pride.
It occurred to him that he hadn't called his former superiors at H Chemical. A week had passed since the transfer — a courtesy call was the least he owed them. In particular, he ought to phone Director Park and Manager Lee, the two men he had served under. He called Director Park first.
"Director? It's Kim Chirok."
"Oh, Kim Chirok! How are you settling in over there?"
"The work is similar to what I did at H Chemical. Management analysis and corporate bond issuance. They say I'll also do feasibility studies for new ventures from time to time, but I haven't gotten to that yet."
"You've got a good head on your shoulders. You'll do fine."
"Thank you for looking out for me all that time, sir."
"I didn't do much of anything. But that transfer of yours — that was because President Jeong-hee remembered your name, wasn't it?"
"It seemed that way, yes."
"I knew it. My hunch was right. Come visit sometime. I'll buy you something good to eat."
"Thank you, Director."
Then Kim Chirok called Manager Lee.
"Manager? It's Kim Chirok. I've been so busy with the handover I haven't even had a chance to call."
"Don't worry about me. But you ought to call Oh Ha-young. She's probably been waiting herself sick. Have you spoken with her?"
Kim Chirok considered mentioning that he was meeting Oh Ha-young at Sindorim Station this Saturday, then decided against it. What he didn't like was the way Manager Lee kept trying to pair the two of them together. Manager Lee had to know they weren't a match — and hearing him talk as if they were left a sour taste.