The Biggest Fruit Is Mine

Executive Director Oh Mun-guk reported to Kim Seong-ho with a flushed, excited expression.

"A subscription frenzy for the Buy Korea Fund is sweeping the entire country. The breeze that rose after the first round of ads has evolved into a full-blown typhoon thanks to the second."

Kim Seong-ho listened while gazing at the newspaper spread open before him.

A massive headline about the Buy Korea Fund dominated the front page. A detailed analysis of the reasons behind the frenzy filled the pages that followed.

"At this rate, it looks like we'll sell out through the tenth offering."

"Excellent. Make sure the coordination with Shilla Future Asset is airtight so customers never have to wonder where they should go."

"Understood. I'll minimize any possible confusion for our clients."

Before the current frenzy had taken hold, internal opinions had been divided over whether cooperating with Shilla Future Asset was the right move. Some had argued that thriving together under competitive pressure might not truly serve Ilhyeon Securities' interests. They claimed it was strange to share customers they had worked so hard to attract when they barely had enough to poach from rivals in the first place.

That argument had not lasted long. Once customers began pouring in at a rate that left plenty even after sharing with Shilla Future Asset, there was no time left for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠such fretting. As a result, Ilhyeon Securities actively steered clients toward Shilla Future Asset. And as others watched that unfold, inquiries began arriving one after another.

"President. Other securities firms are requesting business discussions as well."

"They want to sell the Buy Korea Fund themselves, I take it?"

"Yes. How should we handle it?"

Oh Mun-guk asked carefully. This was a different situation from Shilla Future Asset. Shilla Future Asset had participated in Ilhyeon Securities' rights offering and forged deep ties with the company. The leadership and staff at Ilhyeon Securities all knew the representative of Shilla Future Asset was on close terms with Kim Seong-ho, so sharing customers never felt like handing them to outsiders.

Other firms, however, were pure outsiders. Sharing customers with them was an entirely different matter.

"We proceed according to plan."

"According to plan means…"

Executive Director Oh Mun-guk swallowed dryly.

"You're saying we'll open accounts for every firm that requests it?"

"Yes. Just as I said from the beginning, I don't want this confined inside our walls. I want it to spread across every securities firm. To make that happen we can't close ourselves off—we have to link up with others and keep building third-wave, fourth-wave momentum."

Oh Mun-guk could only stare at Kim Seong-ho in silence. Seong-ho looked back at him, smiled quietly, and spoke first.

"What is it? Do you think I'm getting too far ahead of myself?"

"No. Not at all."

Oh Mun-guk shook his head hurriedly.

"It's just… President, you seem so extraordinary that… I lost my words for a moment."

"Extraordinary?"

"Yes."

Oh Mun-guk nodded firmly.

"Most people find it hard to share what is theirs. Yet you don't. That alone makes you remarkable."

Kim Seong-ho smiled faintly at the praise. He lowered his gaze for a moment to the leather-bound diary resting on the desk.

I don't want this typhoon to die down as quickly as it did last time.

The diary recorded the previous Buy Korea frenzy in meticulous detail—along with everything that had followed and the aftershocks it left behind. Seong-ho had no intention of letting the present fund craze end as a fleeting burst of patriotism. He planned to keep the heat alive so that when the coming global storm struck, he could carve out a proper share for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠himself. That was why he sought expansion beyond Ilhyeon Securities and Shilla Future Asset to every firm in the industry.

Seong-ho lifted his head from the diary and issued his instructions.

"Open accounts so every firm can sell the Buy Korea Fund. But make it crystal clear that management can only be handled by the joint team we formed with Shilla Future Asset."

"Understood. We'll grant distribution rights only."

They could sell the fund. But only Seong-ho's side would manage it. He was willing to let the tree grow heavier with fruit and even share some of the harvest with those who helped cultivate it. He had no intention, however, of sharing the biggest fruit of all. Knowing exactly which fruits would ripen and how in the worldwide mania to come, he was not so generous a fool as to hand those over as well.

Oh Mun-guk left after confirming he would negotiate with other firms strictly on sales rights. Seong-ho watched his departing back for a moment, then returned his gaze to the leather diary.

"Soon the whole world will go mad together."

He tapped the diary, already envisioning that moment.

The Buy Korea fever only grew hotter. After the first advertisements promising profits came the second wave that stirred patriotism. People stopped viewing the Buy Korea Fund as a mere investment product.

It became the path to saving the nation. The path to reviving a Korean stock market smaller than a single Japanese corporation. The path to rescuing struggling companies, creating jobs, and restoring the Korean economy. The Buy Korea Fund was no longer just a way to make money—it was a vehicle for saving the Republic of Korea itself.

Then an announcement from the Blue House poured gasoline on the flames.

The Blue House declared that the internet would become the nation's future breadwinner and announced plans to blanket the country with high-speed networks. It also extended a hand to Ilhyeon Securities, requesting that the Buy Korea Fund actively support the related industries.

The public grew elated that the fund would aid the Blue House's new policies. Any lingering doubts about whether their own money would truly help revive the Korean economy were completely erased by the presidential residence itself. Those who had been watching from the sidelines without joining now formed lines of their own. Crowds thronged every Ilhyeon Securities branch, and rumors even circulated that waiting numbers for fund subscriptions were being traded under the table. Stories of part-timers hired simply to stand in line became commonplace. The heat was scorching, and the flood of people showed no sign of ebbing.

"Starting tomorrow, you can subscribe at other securities firms as well as Ilhyeon Securities. Those who arrived late, please return home and visit a nearby branch tomorrow."

An Ilhyeon Securities employee stood before the long queue outside the Seodaemun branch, cupping his hands around his mouth as he shouted. The waiting crowd immediately bombarded him with questions.

"You mean we can go to any securities firm?"

"Is it the exact same Buy Korea Fund that Ilhyeon sells?"

"Then does that branch manage the fund too?"

After enduring the barrage for some time, the employee cupped his hands again and shouted back.

"Starting tomorrow, every securities firm will sell the same Buy Korea Fund as us. Any fund bearing the Buy Korea name is identical, and even if you subscribe elsewhere, we will still manage it—so rest assured."

"Is that true? We can really join the Buy Korea Fund at other firms?"

"Yes. So those who came late, please don't exhaust yourselves standing in line. You can visit a nearby firm later. Once more for everyone: beginning tomorrow, every securities firm will accept Buy Korea Fund subscriptions…"

The people in line still looked skeptical. It was hard to believe that a fund created by Ilhyeon Securities and sold only through Ilhyeon and Shilla Future Asset would suddenly be available everywhere the next day. So they kept their places and waited for their turn. That scene did not last even one full day. Word spread that other firms were indeed selling the Buy Korea Fund—and the news went far beyond mere rumor.

Under the Securities Association's name, television, newspapers, and radio all announced that the Buy Korea Fund would be sold through every firm. Official association-level promotion of the fund was now underway. The fever finally swelled to typhoon strength. It seemed there was hardly a person left in the Republic of Korea who had not subscribed. The capital pouring in began to exceed astronomical levels.

"How much have we raised?"

"Why do you care?"

"What? Aren't you curious, Oppa?"

"Even if I am, we'll know soon enough."

"That's exactly why I want to know a little early."

Lee Jeong-eun scowled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at Lee Mun-jong.

"You're Vice Chairman, so of course you can find out before the rest of us. But I want to know."

"Be patient. The Chairman is right here…"

"He's not saying a word, is he?"

Jeong-eun glanced at Lee Tak-hyeon. Even now the Chairman merely sat lifting his teacup and drinking, offering no reaction at all. With a look that suggested she was being slighted, she turned back to Kim Seong-ho.

"Kim. How much? Hmm? How much have we raised?"

When Seong-ho only smiled without answering, her frustration boiled over and she spoke for herself.

"Last time I heard we'd raised three hundred billion… so maybe around one trillion?"

"One trillion, my foot…"

Mun-jong muttered with open scorn. Jeong-eun bristled and raised her voice.

"What? Is something wrong with that?"

"Is that the best you can come up with?"

"What are you talking about?"

Mun-jong looked at her as if she were even more pathetic.

"Don't you even remember what happened after the three-hundred-billion figure came out?"

"Why wouldn't I know?"

Jeong-eun glanced around at her siblings and raised her voice further.

"We ran the patriotism ads and the atmosphere exploded. Every securities firm is selling it now…"

"Right. And after all that the only number you can think of is one trillion? Tsk tsk."

"You said you don't know either!"

"I don't."

"We're in the same boat, so why are you acting like you know something? It's disgusting."

"Still, my scale is bigger than yours."

Jeong-eun snorted with a mocking laugh.

"Hmph. Big talk for someone who's just the same. Fine, let's hear what that magnificent scale of yours is predicting. How ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠much are you guessing, Oppa?"

Under her sarcasm Mun-jong did not so much as twitch an eyebrow. He simply looked at Seong-ho and answered.

"Three trillion. Am I right?"

"Three… trillion?"

The sneer froze on Jeong-eun's face.

"…Kim. Is that true? Did we really raise three trillion?"

She stared at Seong-ho. Every eye and ear in the room fixed on him. Seong-ho did not answer at once; he glanced sideways at Lee Tak-hyeon first, seeking permission to speak. Seeing that, Jeong-eun spoke up herself.

"Dad. Just tell him to say it—I'm curious."

"Even when we're discussing company matters you still call for 'Dad'?"

"Ugh, fine. Chairman. Please tell him to speak."

Faced with Jeong-eun's complete lack of fear, Tak-hyeon shook his head. He jerked his chin toward Seong-ho.

"She's curious, so tell her."

Seong-ho inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, then turned to Jeong-eun and stated the total raised by the Buy Korea Fund so far.

"The amount collected to date slightly exceeds ten trillion won."

"Huh?"

Jeong-eun frowned, briefly convinced she had misheard.

"I think I heard wrong. Say that again? How much?"

"The money that has come into the Buy Korea Fund so far is approximately ten trillion won."

Hearing the same answer a second time, Jeong-eun's expression hardened rapidly. Every sibling except Lee Gyeong-eun sat with rigid faces, staring at Seong-ho with trembling eyes.