Changing Jobs (2)

Kim Chirok searched the internet high and low, but there wasn't a single company worth applying to.

There had been times before when a decent job posting would surface and he'd feel the urge to jump ship. Now that he was actually looking, though, there was nothing.

They say you can never find a thing when you actually need it—not even dog shit.

In his current situation, he couldn't simply walk away from H Heavy Industries just because he hated it. He had a paycheck to collect, savings to put aside, living expenses to cover. Until somewhere worth moving to actually appeared, quitting simply wasn't an option.

Most people would consider landing a job at H Heavy Industries a tremendous success. It was, after all, a bona fide major conglomerate. Holding a management position there was something to be envied—especially in a job market as brutal as this one.

And yet Kim Chirok was prepared to walk away from it all, in search of something better. The organization was stagnant, calcified, old. The employees were aging, content to coast, forever watching which way the wind blew. A place like this was no fit for someone as driven and ambitious as he was.

If anyone belonged here, it was his old classmate Jeong Chan-young. Chan-young's father was president of an affiliate, after all—H Construction, not Heavy Industries, but that hardly mattered. The mere words "the president's son" would have those aging managers and department heads falling over themselves.

The old-timers with decades of seniority might not have had an enterprising bone in their bodies, but when it came to reading the room, they were grandmasters. They'd rather huddle close to a man with connections behind him than one with a Seoul National University diploma and actual ability.

It had already been ten days since Kim Chirok started living out of a motel in Changwon.

He kept hunting for a job worth taking, but nothing caught his eye. Meanwhile, the harassment at the office only grew more vicious.

I can't tell if these bastards actually hate me, or if the Strategic Planning Office in Seoul sent down a separate order to freeze me out.

The whispering among the female staff had gotten worse, too. They seemed to have decided he was some kind of villain who'd tried to steal another man's girlfriend, and it was enough to drive ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him insane.

The only thing increasing these days was the drinking he did inside that motel room. Empty beer cans piled up around him.

Is this what I get for distancing myself from Bang Mihee? For staying away from that empty-can-headed bitch who got plastic surgery and only cares about luxury brands?

Then his mother called.

"Is the work manageable down there? It's hot there, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It's manageable."

Hearing his mother's voice, he felt tears welling up for no reason at all.

"You found a studio, right? It's not worse than the one in Incheon, is it?"

"Oh, it's great. Nice and spacious."

"Have you been drinking? Your voice sounds off."

"Ah, the people here wanted to go out for a company dinner."

"You're at a dinner? I'll let you go, then."

And with that, she hung up at once.

It was the thirteenth day since he had come down to Changwon.

A job posting leapt out at him. A well-known domestic investment securities firm was recruiting experienced professionals for its Macro Investment Division and its IB Division.

Damn it. These people only want the overseas crowd too.

In a situation like this, a domestically educated candidate like Kim Chirok was at a disadvantage. But he had already scored a perfect mark on his official English exam. He decided to apply.

If I had my pick, I'd want to work in Macro Investment.

Instead, he chose to apply to the Corporate Finance Division under IB—Investment Banking. The work there covered corporate fundraising, market analysis, and M&A-related deals. It was similar to what he had done in the Planning Office at H Chemical and on the Group Strategic Planning Team. He figured he had a real shot.

And since it was an experienced hire, they would probably match his pay grade. He'd have loved an Assistant Manager title, but he doubted they'd give him that right away.

Kim Chirok downloaded the application and filled it out with painstaking care. He had a photo taken previously, so he decided to use that. The certificate of graduation and a copy of his resident registration he would get the next day, once he was at the office.

I hope I get this securities job...

The next day arrived.

Kim Chirok planned to use his lunch break to issue the documents for his securities firm application. He logged into MySNU, Seoul National University's portal—but he hadn't used it in so long that he couldn't remember his ID or password. After a good deal of fumbling, the site finally opened, and he was able to print his certificate of graduation. He issued a copy of his resident registration online as well.

Then he sent the application to the securities firm.

Once it was gone, he felt strangely good. The veteran managers' haranguing now sounded like a lullaby. He could ignore the female staff whispering behind his back.

Then Jeong Chan-young called.

Chan-young's voice was remarkably bright. Maybe it was because he believed he no longer had any competition.

"Kim Chirok! It's me. Chan-young. Rough going down there?"

"Rough? Not at all."

"I hear there are a lot of old-timers. Isn't it hard?"

"Not really."

"Oh, by the way—I've decided to marry Bang Mihee. Both families have already met."

"Oh? Really? Congratulations."

"So these days I'm living with her in the Banpo apartment she bought."

"Yeah? Living with a beauty. I'm jealous."

"A beauty, huh. Haha. Thanks. Though Bang Mihee is definitely better looking than Lim Jae-geun's wife."

A beauty, my ass. You've never seen Bang Mihee's face before the surgery.

"I've never seen Lim Jae-geun's wife, so I wouldn't know. Isn't she pretty?"

"She looks a lot like him, actually. I don't think he married her for her looks. He married her because she's a judge."

"A Korean judgeship is about the best job there is."

"And they both play golf well. The four of us go sometimes. We were at Yongin Country Club just last week."

"I'm jealous."

"You should try dating a woman from H Heavy Industries. Gyeongsang girls are great, right?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen anyone I like."

"Your problem is your standards are too high. You need to look at your own level."

My level? What's wrong with my level? I'm short on money, not short on quality.

"Got it. I'll try lowering my sights."

"There's something I should apologize for, though. I thought you were secretly pining for Bang Mihee all by yourself. I misunderstood. I'm sorry about that."

I was pining for Bang Mihee? Puhaha. You bastard. What a joke.

"No. I never had a crush on her. I just thought she was pretty from a distance. We barely even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spoke. Let me know when you've set a wedding date."

"My father wants us to have the ceremony at a top-tier hotel, but I don't know which one would be best."

"You'll find one if you look. Congratulations again on marrying the most beautiful woman in H Group."

"Thanks! See you around!"

No sooner had he hung up than a veteran manager called him over.

"Mr. Kim! What kind of phone call takes that long?"

"Ah, it was Jeong Chan-young from the Strategic Planning Team. He said he's marrying the Group Chairman's former secretary."

"W-what? The Chairman's secretary?"

"Yes. There's a beautiful secretary named Bang Mihee. Jeong Chan-young started the same year I did. He's also the son of President Jeong of H Construction."

"W-what? The son?"

"So I could hardly just hang up. I figured I ought to congratulate him."

"O-of course you should congratulate him. You did the right thing, Mr. Kim."

It was the first time Kim Chirok had ever heard the word "right" from this particular manager.

He found the man utterly contemptible. The manager had been about to dress him down, then immediately tucked his tail the moment he learned who had been on the other end of the line.

The Strategic Planning Office had an auditing function, after all. Add to that the fact that the caller was the son of an affiliate president, about to marry the Group Chairman's former secretary, and the picture was clear. That was someone you curried favor with—not someone whose phone call you told a subordinate to cut short.

"Mr. Kim! Stay on good terms with that Jeong Chan-young. And invite him down here sometime. Tell him the Masan Fish Market has all kinds of excellent spots."

You bastard. You've never once asked me to go to the Masan Fish Market.

Several days passed.

Kim Chirok found ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it strange that the securities firm hadn't contacted him at all.

What kind of people are these bastards trying to hire that they haven't even gotten in touch?

They were probably only looking to recruit the overseas-educated types who'd studied abroad, he figured.

Of course there was value in hiring global talent—but there was plenty of work dealing with domestic companies, too. Analyzing Korean firms was something the overseas crowd might not even understand. An investment securities firm needed to strike a balance, hiring both foreign-educated and domestically trained people in the right mix. The more he thought about it, the more these people seemed to have it completely backward.

Restless and frustrated, Kim Chirok headed to the company break room. There was a smoking area and a vending machine. He didn't smoke, so he skipped the smoking room and went straight to the vending machine.

He was drinking a bottle of McCol, the barley soda, when a text arrived on his smartphone. It was from the securities firm. They wanted him to come in for an interview the day after tomorrow at ten in the morning.

That's more like it. They'd be fools not to recognize talent.

Kim Chirok told his team leader he'd be going up to Seoul tomorrow evening and returning the following afternoon. His mother was unwell, he said, and he needed to see her. The team leader clicked his tongue twice, then gave his approval.

The next day, Kim Chirok called his mother. He told her there was a meeting at Group headquarters the following day, so he'd be coming up that night. She was delighted.

That evening, he boarded the KTX and headed for Seoul.

The next morning at ten, he arrived at the investment securities firm in Yeouido.

A few men in suits were waiting in the reception area. They seemed to be here for the same interviews. Since this wasn't a new-graduate screening, most of them were around Kim Chirok's age.

When his turn came, he entered the interview room. Three interviewers sat facing him. The man in the center looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠older—an executive, by the look of him. He was the one who asked most of the questions.

"H Group is a major chaebol. Why do you want to change jobs?"

"A conglomerate is an organization where the system runs the show, not individual creativity. I'd like to move to an investment securities firm and put that creativity to full use."

"What was your primary work at H Group?"

"I did corporate analysis in the Strategic Planning Office, and I also handled corporate bond issuance. More recently I've been working at H Heavy Industries."

The interviewers asked a few more questions, mostly about why he wanted to leave his current job and what he was doing there now. They were hiring for experience, so they seemed to be probing his background to see whether he was a fit for an investment securities firm.

The somewhat younger interviewer on the left posed a question—in fluent English. He seemed to be asking whether Chirok could start immediately if hired. Chirok answered with a firm, energetic yes, in English just as fluent.

The older interviewer spoke again.

"Understood. We'll notify you of the result by text within the next week. Thank you for your time."

Kim Chirok bowed politely to the interviewers and left the room.

Kim Chirok returned to Changwon.

The moment he walked into the office, the manager started in on him, irritated.

"If you're going somewhere, you need to tell me too. You think talking to the team leader is enough?"

"I'm sorry. I'll keep that in mind from now on."

The manager launched into another round of harassment, even assigning him work that didn't need doing. The man seemed to think that having a Seoul National University graduate as a subordinate meant he himself was something special.

Kim Chirok had a fairly good idea why he'd been sent to H Heavy Industries. It was because of Bang Mihee and Jeong Chan-young. Director Jang had gotten ahead of things, he figured, to spare those two the discomfort of his presence.

The manager frowned and asked,

"So what were you doing in Seoul?"

"Director Jang from the Strategic Planning Office called me in."

"Director Jang? W-well, then of course you'd have to go."

Sure enough, the manager tucked his tail the moment a powerful name came up.

"The Director told me to come right away, so I left without having a chance to report to you, sir."

"Ah, ah. That's fine. If the Director of the Strategic Planning Office called, it must have been important. So what did he want?"

"He asked if I was having any trouble at H Heavy Industries. I told him the managers here have been treating me well, so I'm doing fine."

"Haha. Me? I haven't done anything particularly special. How about a beer on the way home? No—let's go to the Masan Fish Market."

"Another time. I drank quite a bit with the Strategic Planning Office staff in Seoul, so I'd like to rest tonight."

"Sounds like you drank yourself sideways up in Seoul. All right, we'll have that drink another time."

With that, the manager gave a loud cough, clasped his hands behind his back, and returned to his desk.