The Worse the Company, the Brighter It Shines
Jo Chung-sep examined the company names written on the paper once more.
They were stocks whose fundamentals and future value meant nothing at all—the kind of shares the market casually dismissed as junk stocks.
He could not understand why someone who was a son-in-law of the Ilhyeon Group would ask him to trade names like these. And it was no small sum, either. One hundred million won. The sheer size of the investment only deepened his unease.
Kim Seong-ho watched Jo Chung-sep’s eyes refuse to leave the paper and spoke calmly.
“Exactly as I told you a moment ago. Manage my account according to what’s written there.”
“Director… are you truly asking me to do it exactly like this?”
Jo Chung-sep finally looked up, staring at Seong-ho with open bewilderment.
Seong-ho simply smiled and nodded.
“Yes. For now. Once the trading on Sokyung Machinery is finished, I’ll give you a separate plan.”
“Ah… Director.”
Jo Chung-sep’s voice dropped carefully.
“You’re not… running some kind of scheme, are you?”
“Hahaha. Of course not. I’ll explain the reasons later. For now, just handle it as I’ve asked.”
Seong-ho brushed the suspicion aside with the promise of a future explanation, then tossed out a line designed to hook him.
“In the gaps between those trades, you’re free to operate the account as you see fit, Assistant Manager Jo.”
“As I see fit?”
“Yes. Follow your own reading of the market and manage my account.”
“Is that really true?”
The idea of being granted discretionary trading authority made Jo Chung-sep’s mouth water.
Seong-ho smiled faintly at the expression and offered something even more tempting.
“Ten percent of the profits. I’ll give you a success fee of ten percent. What do you say? Will you do it?”
“Ten percent…”
Jo Chung-sep looked down at the note again—Soyeong Packaging, Hudo Electric, Sokyung Machinery. The junk stocks made him hesitate even as the offer salivated.
Seong-ho understood exactly what was troubling him and spoke first.
“I won’t hold you responsible for any losses. In return, when it comes to the companies written there and any others I specifically ask you to trade, I need you to follow my instructions no matter what you think. As long as you guarantee me that much, I will never question the results.”
“Is that truly the case?”
“Yes.”
The promise of zero liability for losses left Jo Chung-sep stunned. If he could trade freely without bearing the risk, there was no reason to refuse.
“If you truly won’t hold me accountable for losses…”
He thought for a moment, then nodded firmly, as though sealing a decision.
“Then I’ll do it. When else would I ever put this kind of money into junk stocks like—ah, I mean, into names like these? Besides, outside the times you give me orders, I can trade however I like, and you’re offering ten percent. There’s no reason to turn it down.”
Delighted, Seong-ho extended his hand.
“Thank you. I’ll be counting on you.”
“Call me whenever you need anything. Morning or night, I’ll come running the moment you summon me. Thank you for trusting me with this.”
Jo Chung-sep seized the offered hand and bowed deeply at the waist.
This was the moment when Jo Chung-sep—who would one day found Hyundai Securities and rise like a prodigy of the securities world—joined hands with Kim Seong-ho and stepped fully into the stock market.
Kim Seong-ho and Lee Gyeong-eun went out on a long-overdue date.
Ever since their marriage they had lived in Pyeongchang-dong and never truly carved out time for just the two of them. Seong-ho’s new assignment restructuring Ilhyeon Hotel gave them the perfect excuse to head there together.
“I can’t even remember how long it’s been, Seong-ho. Should we just stay overnight at Ilhyeon Hotel?”
“Wouldn’t that look a little too obvious?”
“So what? We’re not kids. We’re grown adults who are already married. One night at the hotel on the pretext of work is perfectly fine.”
“Your mother will definitely scold us.”
At the mention of her mother, Gyeong-eun’s face twisted into a sulky pout.
“I honestly don’t understand her. What exactly about you bothers her so much that she picks a fight over every little thing?”
She stole a quick glance at Seong-ho as he drove, then softened.
“I’m sorry…”
“Sorry for what?”
“If I were you, I’d have exploded a hundred times already. They say a mother-in-law loves her son-in-law, yet in our house she acts like she can’t wait to tear you apart.”
Seong-ho smiled lightly at her words.
“It’s all right. In a way, I even understand her.”
“Really? You understand Mom?”
“Of course. If I had a daughter as precious as you, I might never have looked at any son-in-law twice. Yet she still puts up with me even when she’s angry. And we live under the same roof, after all.”
Still gripping the wheel, he glanced sideways at her.
“From her perspective, she’s already made a hundred concessions.”
“Seong-ho…”
Gyeong-eun gazed at him, moved that the man who had every right to resent her mother could still speak of understanding.
“Thank you for saying that.”
“No need to thank me. It’s simply the truth.”
He smiled at her, then returned his eyes to the road.
In truth, the words had not been spoken merely to please her.
Looking back, Mother-in-law was the best of the whole family.
Only after everything was over had Seong-ho realized that Chu Suk-ja—who had tried to devour him from the earliest days of the marriage—was still the most decent person among the Ilhyeon Group crowd. She had hated him because he was the scoundrel who had stolen her lovely daughter, not for any other reason. Even when she sneered and insulted him, she did it to his face. The sly backstabbing and the deliberate humiliations had never come from her.
You bastard! You ate my daughter!
Suddenly the words Chu Suk-ja had hurled at him the day Gyeong-eun died rang in his ears as if she were shouting right beside him. Seong-ho glanced at his wife in the passenger seat.
“Gyeong-eun. Your head really doesn’t hurt or anything, does it?”
“Not this again?”
She frowned as though the subject had grown tiresome.
“I’m fine, I keep telling you. We went to the hospital together last time. They said nothing was wrong. I’m perfectly fine.”
She even tapped her own head lightly to prove it.
The very first thing Seong-ho had done after waking in this second life was take Gyeong-eun to the hospital. In the previous timeline she had died suddenly of a cerebral hemorrhage, and he was determined to protect her this time. Yet the doctors had found nothing.
Is it simply that the time hasn’t come yet?
In the last life her death had still been years away. He wondered whether that was why nothing showed now.
Back then it had come without a single warning, after all.
No headaches, no dizziness, no numbness—none of the usual precursors. The hemorrhage had simply exploded, treatment had come too late, and her short life had ended.
“I’m really fine.”
Even as she insisted, she saw the lingering shadow on Seong-ho’s face and smiled brightly for him.
“If you’re that worried, I’ll get a brain scan every year during my checkup. Happy now?”
If it would ease his mind, she would endure the inconvenience.
Seong-ho nodded.
“I just worry too much. I won’t keep asking for tests, but when I do, please listen to me.”
“It’s not hard. All right. I will.”
He wasn’t tormenting her—he was fretting over her. There was no reason to refuse. Gyeong-eun answered readily.
Seong-ho released the gearshift and gently took her hand, then guided the car slowly toward the entrance of Ilhyeon Hotel.
“Huh? What’s this?”
Gyeong-eun frowned at the hotel entrance from the passenger seat.
“Why isn’t any staff coming out? There’s usually a valet right here.”
The car had stopped at the front, yet no one appeared.
“Let’s get out first. They might be busy with something else and simply haven’t noticed.”
“Even if they’re busy, a guest has arrived…”
Seong-ho stepped out first; Gyeong-eun followed. She looked around, half-expecting someone to hurry over belatedly, then peered inside the entrance.
“Wait—those people…”
The doorman who should have been standing at the door, the valets who should have been ready to take the car, and the young women who should have been manning the information desk were all gathered in a loose knot, chatting among themselves. They glanced once at Seong-ho’s car as it pulled up, then ignored it completely.
Gyeong-eun could not stand it any longer.
“Excuse me! Can’t you see a car has arrived? You’re supposed to valet-park it!”
Only then did the clustered employees turn their heads. None of them moved. The doorman answered for the group, voice thick with irritation.
“Just leave it in the parking lot yourself. We’re busy, so don’t come looking for us…”
“Excuse me—there’s a guest—”
As Gyeong-eun began to raise her voice again, Seong-ho stopped her.
“It’s all right, Gyeong-eun. Wait here a moment. I’ll park it myself.”
“But Seong-ho—”
He waved off her protest, climbed back into the driver’s seat, and left her no choice but to wait. While he was gone she glared at the staff until her face flushed crimson with shame.
When Seong-ho returned and saw her reddened cheeks, he laughed.
“Why is your face so red? Embarrassed?”
“Of course I’m embarrassed.”
She shot another look at the employees still lounging and gossiping as though guests did not exist.
“I’ve never seen staff act like this at any other hotel. How can it be our own hotel…? Father should have seen this. He would have fired every last one of them.”
“Hahaha. The Chairman doesn’t need to see it himself to make that happen.”
Seong-ho took her hand and walked her inside, lowering his voice.
“Have you forgotten? I’ll be coming here in a few days.”
“Ah! That’s right.”
Remembering that he had been assigned the hotel’s restructuring, Gyeong-eun clapped her hands in delight.
Seong-ho smiled at her sudden change of mood.
“Just the other day you were almost in tears because you regretted turning down the presidency of Ilhyeon Watch. Now you’re happy?”
“That was that, and this is this.”
She glanced back at the doorman who still would not open the door and the staff who sat smoking without so much as a glance of guidance, then turned to Seong-ho.
“Fire them all, Seong-ho. I can’t understand what they think guests even are.”
“Don’t get so angry, Gyeong-eun.”
He soothed her and pressed the elevator button himself.
“What we saw today is only the tip of the iceberg.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Ding.
The elevator arrived just as she asked. Gyeong-eun raised a hand, about to signal the elevator girl to wait—then froze. The attendant who should have been standing ready inside was nowhere to be found. The car was empty.
While Gyeong-eun stood flustered, Seong-ho actually smiled. The hotel was every bit the disaster he had expected.
Plenty of work to do here as well.
The worse a company was, the brighter restructuring could shine. Thinking of the high results waiting for him, Seong-ho gently guided Gyeong-eun into the elevator.