The Least Expected Visitor
The news that the Republic of Korea had applied for an IMF bailout sent shockwaves not only through the country itself but across the world.
Japan’s Nikkei stock average recorded its steepest drop in a decade. Japanese companies had poured heavily into Korea, and the market feared that none of them would escape the fallout unscathed. That fear soon became fact. Barely a week after Korea’s request for relief funds, a private Japanese bank with more than sixty years of history collapsed, sending a chill through Tokyo: the same tidal wave that had hit Korea could easily swamp Japan next.
The Japanese government scrambled into emergency mode. It pledged unlimited liquidity to the banks to keep the markets from panicking and publicly stressed that, thanks to its swap agreement with the United States, there could be no shortage of dollars. Even Japan was on edge; Korea’s bailout request had shaken the entire globe.
Inside Korea the shock was far greater. Dozens of companies failed every day; tens of thousands of workers were thrown onto the streets. Parks filled with men in suits still clutching briefcases, while playgrounds that should have been full of children became gathering spots for adults with bread and milk cartons, scanning newspapers for any scrap of work. Households collapsed under the strain. Mothers who had once worn rubber gloves and aprons at home now joined the bread line, and children with house keys hanging around their necks waited alone for parents who returned only after dark.
Koreans fought desperately simply to survive. And in that desert of despair one faint light still burned.
While the job market had gone from freeze to total desertification, only the Ilhyeon Group announced large-scale open recruitment. Ilhyeon Electronics alone pledged to hire thirty thousand new employees. Ilhyeon Construction declared it would not halt a single development project and would take on five thousand construction workers. The hiring wave was not limited to electronics and construction; every other affiliate threw open its doors, welcoming both fresh graduates and experienced hands alike. In a drought, it was rain.
Ilhyeon’s efforts did not stop at employment. In a nation where every clock seemed to have stopped, the group announced it would push forward with new developments and new businesses at the same time. When the slowing train threatened to grind to a halt, Ilhyeon alone vowed to keep the wheels turning, however hard the effort. Ordinary people began saying, with genuine gratitude, that Korea was lucky to have Ilhyeon.
And the reason the group could afford such boldness soon became the talk of the nation: it had carried out a ruthless internal restructuring long before the crisis hit.
“I don’t know if the host remembers, but I have argued from the beginning that Ilhyeon’s method of restructuring is the only path that can save this country.”
“I remember. You called it a brilliant decision.”
“Exactly. Look at us now. Because they restructured early, Ilhyeon alone has stepped clear of the storm. And that is not all. While the rest of Korea’s economy has frozen solid, Ilhyeon is trying to drag the entire nation forward—by itself.”
The economics professor on television spoke with a face that had moved past admiration into something close to awe.
“Imagine if Ilhyeon did not exist. What would we do with all those people out on the streets looking for work? Viewers may not know this, but before the crisis even began, Ilhyeon was already extending interest-free loans to companies that were gasping for cash—against collateral, of course. That is the only reason things are not far worse.”
“Ilhyeon did that?”
“Yes. If they had not kept those firms breathing, we would not even see the last flickering embers we have now. Companies are still collapsing by the dozen, but without Ilhyeon’s help the fire would already be out.”
The host nodded in agreement.
“In a situation where the bailout leaves no hope in sight, I too believe Ilhyeon is our only remaining hope. Every Korean must feel the same. We all know Ilhyeon is standing alone against the wave that is crashing over this country.”
“Precisely. And the reason they can do it is the preemptive restructuring. In short, the power of restructuring.”
The professor looked straight into the camera, his expression grave.
“It is not too late. Every company should ask Ilhyeon for help with restructuring. That is the only way to survive this wave. Reach out your hand to Ilhyeon.”
Watching the professor’s face on the screen, Lee Chang-jong, Vice President of Ilhyeon Distribution, twisted his mouth in disbelief and switched off the television with the remote. He turned to Lee Jeong-eun, who sat beside him.
“That bastard must be on Kim’s payroll, right?”
“Could be,” Cha Yeong-su chimed in from Jeong-eun’s other side.
Chang-jong did not even glance at him. His eyes stayed fixed on his sister.
“Noona. Are we just going to sit here and take this?”
He covered his face with one palm.
“Do you have any idea how humiliated I’ve been?”
“So what exactly do you want me to do about it?” Jeong-eun asked quietly.
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then say it. Just looking for me isn’t going to produce a plan. Tell me. What should I do? Huh? What do you want from me?”
Her sharp words left Chang-jong speechless. Jeong-eun watched him for a moment, then let out a long sigh.
“I know why you’re like this. But what can we actually do? Our older brothers are standing there rock-solid, backing Kim Seong-ho.”
“Why the hell did Hyung-nim suddenly start taking that guy’s side?”
“You really don’t know?”
She looked at him as if he were an idiot.
“How do you think Second Brother got back into Ilhyeon Construction? Kim Seong-ho showed him the way.”
“The Seocho Town development… that was Kim’s idea?”
“What else? Do you honestly think Second Brother has the brains to come up with that on his own?”
Having grown up with him, Jeong-eun knew Lee Sang-jong better than anyone. Chang-jong, who had watched Sang-jong’s management style for years, also knew the Ilhyeon Town concept could never have come from his brother. The fact that it had come from Kim Seong-ho still stunned him.
“Why would that bastard tell Hyung-nim something like that?”
“Why do you think?”
Jeong-eun gave him another pitying look.
“Because of that he secured Second Brother’s support. First Brother was already on his side… With both of them backing him at once, what can the three of us do? You’re only Vice President of Distribution, your brother-in-law is a figurehead Vice President at Electronics, and I don’t even have a title. The three of us putting our heads together won’t change a thing.”
Chang-jong’s head dropped.
Restructuring Headquarters staff had stormed into Ilhyeon Distribution and turned the place upside down. Scores of executives had been fired for every kind of misconduct—from outright embezzlement of company funds down to petty abuse of subordinates. Every one of Chang-jong’s trusted men had been cut out. When those same executives came begging him to save them, he could do nothing. Even as a member of the royal family he was powerless against the authority Lee Tak-hyeon had poured into the Restructuring Headquarters.
Being stripped of face by some stray mutt whose origins no one even knew had planted a deep malice in Chang-jong’s heart. The humiliation was more than he could bear.
Bang!
He slammed his fist down on the table.
“I can’t take any more of this.”
“You can’t take it? What exactly do you plan to do by yourself?”
“If Noona won’t help me, I’ll do it alone.”
He shot to his feet and looked down at Jeong-eun, who still sat watching him.
“Don’t try to stop me.”
“I won’t. I won’t stop you, so go ahead and do whatever you want.”
“Fine. I’ll do whatever I want. Just watch.”
With that, Chang-jong left.
Cha Yeong-su watched his brother-in-law’s retreating back, then turned to Jeong-eun with worry in his voice.
“Should we really leave him like that?”
“And if we don’t, what are you going to do about it?”
“I’m not saying I can do anything… I just feel like we should try to talk him out of it.”
Yeong-su himself was not without resentment toward Kim Seong-ho. As Vice President of Ilhyeon Electronics he had been completely bypassed when orders went straight to the semiconductor and mobile-phone divisions. He had swallowed his pride only because Lee Tak-hyeon was openly throwing his weight behind the Restructuring Headquarters; there was simply nothing he could do. Still, he feared that Chang-jong, unable to control his temper, might try something stupid against Seong-ho and destroy himself.
“The person who put all that power in our brother-in-law’s hands is Father himself. If Chang-jong tries anything and Father finds out—”
“If Father finds out, that would be perfect.”
“What?”
Unlike her anxious husband, Jeong-eun looked as though she was hoping for exactly that outcome.
“If we can see how Father reacts when Chang-jong charges in, wouldn’t that work in our favor?”
“But if something goes wrong and he—”
“Do you think he’ll thank me if I look out for him? Is there anything in it for me if I help?”
“He’s still your younger brother. He came here asking for help…”
“You think he came here to ask for help?”
Jeong-eun snorted and stared at Yeong-su as if he were hopeless.
“Is your brain completely offline? Your father-in-law at least has enough political sense to land a decent seat, but you? Are you just wearing that head for decoration?”
“Am I wrong? He came asking for help, so helping him is what family does.”
“You idiot! He didn’t come to ask for help. He came to push me into facing Father for him!”
She shouted and snatched up the flower vase on the table, ready to hurl it. Yeong-su flung both hands over his face. Jeong-eun looked at him, sighed, and set the vase back down.
“Aigoo. If you can’t even see that, what’s the point of talking? You only kept your Vice President seat at Electronics because of me. Without me you wouldn’t have even passed the open recruitment. You got where you are because you picked good parents and a good wife, so stop thinking and just do what you’re told.”
She stood, looked down at her husband who still had his hands over his face, and spoke coldly.
“If you don’t understand, just sit still. Don’t go sticking your neck out and getting yourself beaten. The only thing you’re good for is standing next to me. Don’t forget that. Got it?”
With one last look of pure contempt she turned and walked out. Only when the door closed did Yeong-su slowly lower his hands. He glared after her with eyes full of resentment.
Leaving Jeong-eun’s house, Lee Chang-jong headed straight for Apgujeong. When the car stopped in front of the apartment complex he told the driver to wait and started toward the entrance.
“Excuse me a moment.”
A security guard stepped out of the booth and blocked his path.
“Who are you, sir? Who are you looking for?”
Chang-jong looked at the man who had stopped him and, strangely, seemed pleased.
“Good. You’re doing your job. Kim Seong-ho lives here, right?”
“Pardon? Who?”
The guard’s blank stare irritated him more than being stopped.
“You don’t know Kim Seong-ho? The Ilhyeon Group son-in-law.”
“Ah—the Headquarters Director? I know him, but why…?”
At last the name registered. Chang-jong tipped his head back and scanned the building.
“Which floor?”
He frowned again.
“Why the hell did that bastard move to a place crawling with people…”
When the guard still did not answer he looked down and repeated the question.
“You don’t know which floor?”
“He lives on the eleventh floor, but first—who are you, sir? I can’t just let anyone in.”
“I’m someone who’s allowed in, so get out of the way and stop making a fuss.”
Chang-jong shoved the guard aside and strode inside. The guard hesitated, torn between stopping him and letting him go. The man clearly knew Seong-ho lived there, yet his tone and manner were anything but friendly. In the end the guard hurried back to the booth and dialed the intercom to Seong-ho’s apartment.
“Yes?”
Seong-ho’s voice came through. The guard quickly explained what had just happened at the entrance. Seong-ho listened, then smiled faintly.
“It’s all right. That will be my older brother-in-law.”
After identifying the visitor and thanking the guard, Seong-ho hung up. He turned to Lee Gyeong-eun, whose eyes had gone round with surprise.
“It seems one of your brothers has come.”
“One of my brothers? … Which one?”
No matter which brother she tried to picture, none of them seemed likely to appear at their door. Seong-ho found her expression amusing and answered with a quiet laugh.
“Third Brother, apparently.”
“Chang-jong oppa?”
At the news that the person least expected to visit had arrived, Gyeong-eun’s eyes widened even further. In the next instant the doorbell rang, a fist pounded on the door, and Lee Chang-jong’s voice carried through from the other side.