Create the Opposite of What They Want
Jo Byeong-jin peeled the eggshell stuck to his hair with his fingers.
"Ugh... the smell."
He scowled at the stench that clung even after scrubbing and scrubbing, then glanced at Kim Seong-ho, who was casually wiping himself down as if nothing were wrong.
"You okay? You look completely unfazed."
Jo Byeong-jin still found it bizarre that Seong-ho had not shown a single sign of displeasure since they arrived. Any normal person would have been disgusted and foul-tempered by now, yet Seong-ho kept acting as if none of it mattered.
"I'm used to it."
"Used to it? To this?"
Jo Byeong-jin held out his mottled arms and the towel reeking of rotten egg, his face pure disbelief.
Seong-ho tossed the half-wiped towel onto the table and sat down.
"Yeah. Used to it."
Realizing Seong-ho was not joking, Jo Byeong-jin stared at him strangely. He had no idea where Seong-ho could have experienced anything like this. That was only natural—everything Seong-ho had lived through belonged to a previous life, not this one.
For a man who had rarely faced labor unions with a smile, this sort of thing had been everyday business. So of course he was used to it; even the smell that made Jo Byeong-jin wrinkle his nose felt ordinary to him.
The conference-room door rattled open. Temporary manager Han Yu-cheol walked in with the union representatives, their heads bound in headbands.
"Ugh."
Han Yu-cheol clapped a hand over his nose the moment the reek filling the room hit him. Realizing its source was Seong-ho and Jo Byeong-jin, he hurriedly apologized.
"I'm sorry."
"Not at all. We wiped ourselves down as best we could, yet the smell won't leave. If you aren't too cold, shall we open a window while we talk?"
"Yes. That would be better."
Han Yu-cheol lowered his hand but still held his breath against the unbearable stench. He went straight to the window, flung it open, drew in a few lungfuls of cold air, and only then managed a relaxed expression. After another few breaths of clean air he returned to his seat and introduced the union men who had entered with him.
"This is Union Chairman Park Geun-yong. Beside him is former Union Chairman Kim Gwang-myeong, who now serves as advisor."
"A pleasure. I'm Kim Seong-ho, head of the Restructuring Headquarters at the Ilhyeon Group."
Seong-ho extended his hand. Chairman Park Geun-yong merely scowled, glancing back and forth between the offered hand and Seong-ho's stained clothes. Seong-ho turned slightly and offered the same hand to former chairman Kim Gwang-myeong. Kim only stared at it as well, showing no intention of taking it.
Seong-ho looked down at his own palm and gave an awkward little laugh.
"I wiped it as thoroughly as I could, but it's still filthy. Let's save the handshake for later. Shall we sit and talk?"
He sat first. Jo Byeong-jin took the seat beside him; opposite them Park Geun-yong and Kim Gwang-myeong settled in, the arrangement itself declaring their confrontation. Han Yu-cheol withdrew to one side, making plain he would remain a spectator and simply watch how the meeting unfolded.
Once seated, Chairman Park Geun-yong spoke first.
"I think it best we make our position clear at the outset."
"Please do."
"As you saw and felt on your way in, we reject the Ilhyeon Group's acquisition of Doa Motors. So we ask that the Ilhyeon Group withdraw from the takeover first."
Park's face was set hard; his tone left no room for compromise. Seong-ho, who had expected exactly this, merely nodded and answered without fluster.
"I've seen the news as well, so I already knew the Doa Motors union dislikes the idea of an Ilhyeon takeover. Coming here has shown me you dislike it even more than the press reported. Still, Chairman, shouldn't you at least hear what vision our group is bringing?"
"Whether you have a vision or not is irrelevant to us. We have no intention of going forward with the Ilhyeon Group. If, after hearing our will, the group still insists on acquiring us... then we will have no choice but to resort to extreme measures."
"Extreme measures?"
"We could shut the workplace down."
Kim Gwang-myeong spoke the threat in Park's place. Seong-ho turned his head toward him.
"I believe there's a misunderstanding. A workplace lockout is something the employer does—that is, the company. It is not something a union can carry out."
"I think it is you who misunderstands, Headquarters Chief."
Park Geun-yong gave a mocking little smile.
"A lockout is not the exclusive right of the employer. If we simply lock the factory gates from the outside, that too becomes a workplace closure."
"Lock the gates from the outside?"
Jo Byeong-jin stared from Park to Kim in open astonishment. The two men were announcing, with complete calm, that they would commit an illegal act. Standing a step apart and watching, Han Yu-cheol observed that Seong-ho showed not the slightest surprise at their words.
Escorting Seong-ho and Jo Byeong-jin back to their car, temporary manager Han Yu-cheol wore a troubled look.
"We're in a difficult spot ourselves. It's hard to understand why the union is so hostile toward the Ilhyeon Group. Frankly, the creditors have no reason to turn you away. Our goal is simply to recover as much of the investment as possible."
He stood in front of the car as the two men prepared to climb in.
"Once you're back, think of a way to soothe the union. Offer a consolation payment after the acquisition, or some other form of compensation—wouldn't that change their minds?"
Seong-ho gave a short, dry laugh, opened the car door, and looked at Han Yu-cheol.
"The union—and everyone else, it seems—is laboring under a misconception."
"Pardon? What do you mean?"
"We have not yet decided whether we will even participate in the bidding."
"What?"
Han Yu-cheol took an involuntary step closer. Seong-ho smiled at him.
"I don't know how the rumor started that the Ilhyeon Group is taking over Doa Motors, but nothing has been decided."
"Isn't Ilhyeon acquiring Doa?"
"The government announced a competitive bid. You know that, don't you?"
"But that's only a formality, isn't it?"
"Formality or not, the bidding will proceed, and only the preferred bidder can move to the next stage. We, however, are still carefully considering whether to enter the bid at all."
"You might truly choose not to participate?"
"Do I look like a man who came all this way just to make a joke?"
Seong-ho settled into the car and spoke through the open window.
"Tell the union not to worry either. I've seen everything with my own eyes, so I'll report to the chairman in the most negative light possible regarding our participation. We'll be going first."
He finished and gestured for Jo Byeong-jin to drive. With that parting remark they left the Doa Motors Gwangmyeong plant. Unlike their arrival, no one threw eggs at the departing car. No one chanted slogans; the union members who had blocked the gate were nowhere in sight.
Jo Byeong-jin drove out of the plant without trouble, rolled the windows down so the smell could escape, and turned to Seong-ho.
"You really thinking of skipping the bid?"
"If they hate us this much, we have to give it serious thought."
"Yeah. They really do hate us. Why go that far? Even if they're desperate for a German company to buy them, this is too much. At least they should listen to what we propose, right? Instead they start with threats to lock the factory from the outside without even hearing us out."
Remembering the conference-room conversation, Jo Byeong-jin shook his head. Seong-ho gazed through the open window at the receding plant.
"When you hear strange stories from the people around you, it's easy to form the wrong idea."
"So the union's been hearing weird stories about us?"
"Otherwise there's no reason for them to hate people they barely know this much—even if the German firm is a global giant."
"True. Doesn't make sense any other way."
Jo Byeong-jin agreed that someone was deliberately spreading a negative image of the Ilhyeon Group among the union. One question still niggled at him.
"But who's talking us down?"
"Who else? The ones who profit by making us look bad."
"So the ones who gain by bad-mouthing us... you mean the German company?"
Seong-ho smiled and turned toward the driver.
"They're not the ones who matter."
"Aren't they the ones who matter most? They're competing with us for Doa Motors."
The corner of Seong-ho's mouth lifted. He was remembering the Doa Motors takeover battle from his previous life.
"The ones who profit most by smearing us aren't the German company—they're the creditors."
"The creditors? The people who lent Doa Motors money make the biggest gain?"
Unable to follow the logic, Jo Byeong-jin glanced sideways while keeping his hands on the wheel. Seong-ho looked out the window a moment before answering.
"They're stirring up the union so they can recover even one more won. That's why the union turned hostile toward us."
"What do they actually gain by making the union hate us?"
"Didn't you hear him just before we got in the car?"
Seong-ho turned from the window. Jo Byeong-jin recalled the words and spoke them aloud.
"You mean that Han Yu-cheol guy telling us to come up with ways to soothe the union?"
"Exactly."
Seong-ho's smile widened.
"Every new method for coaxing the union that gets added to the package automatically drives the bid price higher."
Jo Byeong-jin nodded.
"I get it. Raise the consolation money and you have to enlarge the whole bid scale, so the final bid price rises in proportion. Ha—those bastards used their heads."
He frowned, remembering how Han Yu-cheol had pretended to be looking out for the Ilhyeon Group.
"Something felt off the whole time. Management was the one who told the plant we were coming, yet somehow the union already knew and was waiting at the gate. I thought they just kept a permanent watch, but when we left there was no one left at the gate—so that wasn't it either. That Han Yu-cheol character must have tipped the union off in advance."
"Most likely."
Jo Byeong-jin glanced at Seong-ho, who agreed, then asked,
"We're not just going to take this, are we?"
"Of course not."
At the firm answer Jo Byeong-jin looked at him with eager eyes.
"So what are we going to do?"
"Create the opposite situation of what they want."
"The opposite situation?"
"Make them lower the price for us of their own free will, right?"
"Make them cut the price themselves? That sounds good."
Jo Byeong-jin's face lit with anticipation. He stepped on the accelerator, already impatient for that moment to arrive.
When Kim Seong-ho stepped through the front door, Lee Gyeong-eun met him in the entryway and immediately covered her nose.
"What on earth is that smell?"
"Could you bring me a large bag?"
"A bag? What for?"
Still pinching her nose, she asked. Seong-ho was already peeling off his outer jacket and tie.
"I think these clothes will have to be thrown away."
"Thrown away?"
"Yes. Because of the smell."
Gyeong-eun looked at the suit crusted with dried rotten egg and grimaced.
"Wait just a moment."
She disappeared inside and returned with a large laundry basket.
"Take everything off and put it in here. I'll wash it."
"Wouldn't it be better to throw it out? I doubt washing will remove that smell..."
"Seong-ho, do you know how much that suit cost?"
"I don't."
"Do you know how many times you've worn it?"
"I don't know that either."
Even though the reek was overpowering, she took the clothes directly from his hands and dropped them into the basket.
"The jacket and trousers alone cost over five hundred thousand won. Today is only the third time you've worn them. How can we throw something like that away?"
Seong-ho smiled as he pulled off his dress shirt and added it to the basket.
"Moments like this make me think you're more thrifty than I expected. I always assumed chaebol families never worried about money."
"My late grandfather once told me something. He said if you want to become rich, you have to save. He also said you can never become rich if you don't. I believed he was right, so I simply live by those words. Aigoo—the smell!"
Seong-ho stood stripped to the waist and quietly watched her. In Lee Gyeong-eun's determination to follow her grandfather's teaching, he saw the image of the founder of the Ilhyeon Group overlapping her own.