The Hidden Card
Every employee of the Ilhyeon Watch Gumi plant had gathered inside the factory.
Production workers, development staff, even headquarters personnel who had come down from Taepyeong-ro—more than four hundred people in all—waited for the announcement that was about to begin.
“President, what do you suppose he’ll say?”
Executive Director Ju Seong-su asked quietly of Do Eun-cheol seated to his left.
Do Eun-cheol, President of Ilhyeon Watch, had no clearer idea than anyone else what method Kim Seong-ho intended to use so that employees would leave of their own free will and even thank the company for it. Still, he kept his arms folded, stared up at the podium, and gave a short snort of laughter.
“Obvious, isn’t it? He’ll plead that the company is in trouble and ask them to leave.”
“And you think they’ll actually go?”
“Of course they won’t.”
Do Eun-cheol’s mouth curled. He turned to Ju Seong-su, voice thick with anticipation.
“Which means he’ll have no choice but to play the dismissal card. The union will explode the moment he does.”
His smile twisted higher.
“You know what happened to every one of our predecessors, don’t you?”
Ju Seong-su nodded slowly. The story was famous: every reformer who had come to Ilhyeon Watch had left with failure instead of reform.
“If you don’t adapt the way we have, you can’t survive here. Being the Chairman’s son-in-law won’t change a thing.”
Do Eun-cheol cast a sidelong glance at the employees sitting rigid and ready.
“Look at them. Every last one of them has protest gear tucked under their jackets, waiting for Assistant Manager Kim to finish speaking. Heh. Even if headquarters had made the announcement downtown and then shipped him down here it would have been bad enough—yet he comes all the way to the factory himself? I already knew he was crazy, but he’s crazier than I thought.”
Certain of the outcome, Do Eun-cheol twisted his lips again and looked back toward the podium.
“We stay quiet. When Assistant Manager Kim is crying and begging for help, that’s when we step in. Then Ilhyeon Watch stays under our control, just like always.”
Bang Ju-gyeol, who had overheard the muttered monologue, felt a flicker of relief—yet an uneasy feeling refused to leave him. Kim Seong-ho had already produced the unexpected card of relocating the company; what if he now produced something even more astonishing to resolve the crisis?
Can I really rest easy?
Bang Ju-gyeol glanced at President Do, who was already cheerfully asking Ju Seong-su whether there were any decent bars in Gumi and ordering him to call suppliers the moment the announcement ended so they could go drinking. While Bang shook his head at the sight, Kim Seong-ho stepped onto the podium.
Tap-tap.
He tested the microphone with a fingertip, then brought it to his lips.
“Good afternoon, everyone. Family of Ilhyeon Watch. I am Kim Seong-ho, Assistant Manager from the Ilhyeon Group Strategic Planning Office, dispatched here for the restructuring of Ilhyeon Watch.”
After the brief introduction he outlined the company’s present condition.
“The Ilhyeon Group has worked hard to devise a recovery plan for a company that has fallen into complete capital impairment. As a result we have chosen relocation…”
As he justified the move, the atmosphere among the gathered employees darkened by the minute. Quite apart from the company’s troubles, the personal inconvenience of relocation was all they could think about, and resentment rose. Kim Seong-ho on the podium felt that hostility perfectly well.
“That concludes the background for the relocation decision. Now let me explain why all of you have been asked to gather here today.”
As he prepared to get to the heart of the matter, Do Eun-cheol’s smile grew even deeper. It did not last long. Kim Seong-ho began to speak of something no one present had ever heard of—or even imagined.
“To ease the burden on Ilhyeon Watch employees who will be inconvenienced by the move, the company plans to provide relocation expenses and housing support. We will work with commercial banks so that you may secure low-interest home-purchase loans, and once Ilhyeon Watch is restored to health we intend to convert those loans to interest-free. For those of you who simply cannot move and therefore have no choice but to leave the company…”
He paused and glanced at Jeong Byeong-ju. A moment later the large screen behind him lit up, revealing the second plan Kim Seong-ho had prepared. After confirming that everyone could see it clearly, he continued.
“Employees who retire by the end of this year will receive a special consolation payment. Department Heads will receive the equivalent of thirty months of base salary; Deputy Department Heads, forty months; Section Chiefs, fifty months. Assistant Managers and below will receive a flat fifty million won in addition to their ordinary severance.”
The hall erupted in murmurs. No one had ever heard of special consolation money paid on top of severance.
Kim Seong-ho waited for the noise to settle, then returned to the microphone.
“We at the Ilhyeon Group regard every one of you as family. Just as a mother packs rice balls for a child setting off on a journey, we have prepared this consolation money for the family members who must leave us. I do not pretend it will transform your lives. But I believe it will buy you time enough to find a new nest.”
Faces that had been dark with resentment now carried smiles. The protest gear hidden under jackets was forgotten; every ear strained for Kim Seong-ho’s next words.
“Applications for this special consolation payment—which we are calling the Voluntary Retirement Plan—will be accepted for exactly fifteen days, starting now. Please consider carefully and apply within that window.”
Looking out over a hall that no longer held the slightest edge of hostility, Kim Seong-ho smiled and stepped back from the microphone.
“That concludes the announcement regarding company relocation and the special consolation payments.”
He left the podium and walked straight out of the hall. The employees of Ilhyeon Watch watched him go for a moment, then turned to one another with flushed faces and rapid voices.
“What? Fifty million? They’re giving fifty million on top of severance?”
“Section Chiefs get fifty months’ base pay, Deputy Heads forty—how much is that even?”
Simple arithmetic, yet they were so stunned they kept counting on their fingers. Another worker, beaming, spoke up.
“My wife already told me to quit once she heard the company was moving. Perfect timing. With consolation money on top, I’m out. What about you?”
“Obviously I’m quitting too. They’re handing out free money besides severance—shouldn’t we be grateful? An opportunity like this won’t come twice. Grab it with both hands.”
The workers buzzed with excitement, determined to seize the chance. Even the union that had prepared an anti-relocation demonstration could find no grounds to oppose it. Talk of relocation and resistance vanished as if it had never existed; every conversation now revolved around the special consolation payments.
That changed atmosphere reached Kim Seong-ho and Jeong Byeong-ju even as they left the hall. Jeong Byeong-ju glanced back at the noisy crowd and said,
“It really was radical. The whole mood flipped in an instant.”
“I told you it would change all at once, didn’t I?”
Jeong Byeong-ju kept shaking his head in wonder.
“I never dreamed a method like this existed. Once you offer consolation money, no one has a reason to oppose the move. People who want to come along get housing support; people who want to leave take the money and go.”
He swept a hand toward the other factories visible beyond the plant.
“And Gumi is full of factories, so finding new work won’t be hard. For the production workers of Ilhyeon Watch, nothing could be better.”
“Which is why I said they would leave thanking us.”
“I had no idea something like this was possible.”
Jeong Byeong-ju looked at Kim Seong-ho with open admiration.
“How on earth did you come up with it?”
Kim Seong-ho only smiled. In the future the method would be commonplace; for now it was not. Paying extra consolation money to people who left would become ordinary only after a far larger upheaval a few years down the road.
Jeong Byeong-ju stuck out his tongue at the silent smile.
“I’ve always known Assistant Manager Kim wasn’t ordinary, but you’re even more impressive than I thought.”
“You flatter me.”
“It’s not flattery. I mean it.”
Jeong Byeong-ju caught Kim Seong-ho’s arm, stopped him, and thumped his own chest with an open palm.
“I was genuinely impressed. From today on I’ve decided that whatever Assistant Manager Kim proposes, I’ll follow without question.”
“I’m glad to hear it. There was a great deal I still needed to do with you, Section Chief, and knowing you trust me that far makes me feel I’ve gained a solid ally.”
“A great deal still to do? Isn’t the employee problem at Ilhyeon Watch finished?”
Kim Seong-ho looked back at the still-heated hall.
“The rank-and-file are settled, but the executives remain unsettled, don’t they?”
“The executives… right.”
Jeong Byeong-ju’s expression darkened slightly.
“The real headaches are still left.”
He glanced toward the part of the hall where the executives sat.
“We can’t hand special consolation money to executives. Even if we did, they wouldn’t leave. Do you have a method?”
“That will be the third reform.”
Still gazing at the hall, Kim Seong-ho smiled faintly.
“Watch closely. The executives will leave Ilhyeon Watch by a very different route from the ordinary employees.”
The “different route” did not sound pleasant. Jeong Byeong-ju asked no further questions. Just as he had declared moments earlier, he now trusted whatever Kim Seong-ho intended to do.
Kim Seong-ho started walking again; Jeong Byeong-ju followed him out of the Gumi plant.
On Sunday the main topic of conversation in Pyeongchang-dong was, inevitably, Ilhyeon Watch.
Lee Mun-jong and Lee Sang-jong pressed Kim Seong-ho as though they could not believe their ears.
“You’re actually going to throw extra money at people who want to quit? Kim Seong-ho, are you in your right mind?”
“They won’t leave otherwise. And we can hardly fire them outright, can we?”
“When a company relocates, employees follow—that’s natural. Anyone who can’t follow simply leaves. Paying people who are already walking out the door—are you planning to run a charity?”
Neither Lee Mun-jong nor Lee Sang-jong could grasp the Voluntary Retirement Plan Kim Seong-ho intended to implement. Kim Seong-ho did not find their reaction strange; in this era it was the only reaction one could expect.
“In the short term cash is leaving the company, so it looks like a loss. But we are clearing out high-salaried deadwood and replacing them with younger workers who cost less. Over the long run it is a clear gain.”
“Even so…”
Lee Sang-jong glanced at Lee Tak-hyeon. The Chairman’s opinion was the only one that truly mattered. Lee Tak-hyeon, who had been quietly drinking tea on the sofa, saw his son trail off and shot him a look of pure disdain.
“Did you imagine Kim Seong-ho simply charged ahead without consulting me?”
“Not exactly, but still…”
“Still what? Even a calculator can tell you which side is profitable.”
Lee Sang-jong fell silent as if he had swallowed honey. Lee Tak-hyeon clicked his tongue in greater annoyance.
“Tsk. You two ought to bring me original ideas of your own once in a while. Sitting in the Vice Chairman’s and President’s chairs just because you’re my sons—have a little shame. Kim Seong-ho.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“We’re among family. Drop the ‘Chairman’ and just call me Father.”
Ordinarily, even when speaking business with Lee Mun-jong or Lee Sang-jong, Lee Tak-hyeon insisted on being called Chairman rather than Father. The warm smile that accompanied the invitation therefore left everyone in the room stunned.
“You handled this well. Does that mean the reform of Ilhyeon Watch is finished?”
Kim Seong-ho, however, felt the dagger hidden inside that smile. He knew perfectly well that if he answered “yes, it’s finished,” the warmth would turn to ice in an instant. That was why he still held one more prepared card. And he was more than a little curious to see how Lee Chang-jong—the fourth son and Vice President of Ilhyeon Distribution—would react when that card was laid on the table. Smiling, Kim Seong-ho prepared to answer Lee Tak-hyeon’s question.