The Madman Who Hires Five Thousand

Until recently, Koo Hoe-jin, Chairman of KG Group, had not commanded much respect in the business world.

He had ascended to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chairmanship of a corporate giant in his forties on the strength of a single qualification: being a third-generation chaebol heir, with no real track record to speak of. Naturally, plenty of people in the industry watched his leadership with open skepticism.

Whenever he was invited to Federation of Korean Industries events or official government functions, the older chairmen would always receive his greeting first, half-bowing with a barely concealed air of condescension. To Koo Hoe-jin, these were men of his father's generation, so he thought nothing of their behavior — but lately, they had changed completely.

The chairmen now competed to approach him, feigning familiarity, desperate to get a single word in. Production hadn't even begun yet, and already they were begging him to route the first shipments their way — which Koo Hoe-jin found enormously, considerably burdensome.

"I'm sorry, but I have no authority to decide how Veratian is distributed."

"What on earth—"

"Production volumes are far too low at the moment. When it comes to allocation between nations and companies, we are strictly bound to follow the government's established policy."

Koo Hoe-jin had anticipated the all-around pressure that would descend on KG Group the moment Veratian first appeared before the world. That was precisely why he had deflected every difficult situation by insisting that KG Group would handle production only, while distribution would be managed entirely by the Korean government.

And it wasn't just Korea — CEOs of the world's most prominent global corporations were reaching out, all hoping to meet him at least once. In an instant, he had become the most sought-after star in the business world, showered with the attention and goodwill of countless executives, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and KG Group had transformed overnight into a company ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠known to every corner of the globe.

Not only KG Group but the entire constellation of battery-dependent industries was riding high. With Veratian now being hailed as the future industry propping up the Korean economy, Koo Hoe-jin had no choice but to treat Kang Gun — Limitless's genius scientist — with the utmost caution.

When the call came out of nowhere, he canceled or postponed every appointment on his calendar for the coming month and traveled all the way down to Cheongju himself.

"I'm sorry… you want to run a construction company?"

Koo Hoe-jin asked again, dumbfounded. But as if to prove it was no joke, Kang Gun nodded with a perfectly serious face.

"That's right. Now that three trillion won has come in, I'm thinking of expanding the company in earnest. So I've been mulling over what business would be worth pursuing… and construction seemed ideally suited for growing a company's scale."

"The thing is, we don't have a single employee at our company who knows anything about construction. I suppose we could recruit experts from somewhere or other, but that takes time, and handing executive responsibilities over to complete strangers doesn't exactly inspire confidence… So I was wondering what to do, and then it suddenly occurred to me — you, Chairman."

Kang Gun grinned and picked at the dishes spread out before him, then said with an utterly guileless face:

"KG Group has a construction affiliate, so I figured you'd know the industry better than I do. I wanted to ask for your advice."

"……."

It was a situation that left him speechless. Koo Hoe-jin sat in silence for a long while, at a loss as to where or how one would even begin to correct this man, before carefully opening his mouth.

"Well, first of all… expanding the company's scale just because a windfall came in is not exactly sound management strategy."

He lifted the teacup before him, then set it back down. After a beat, he continued with a grave expression.

"And, Representative Kang — construction is not the easy industry people imagine. Especially not in times like these."

The aftermath of interest rate hikes had made financing difficult; project financing loans had frozen solid, and construction firms unable to withstand interest payments snowballing like avalanches were defaulting one after another, with entire projects collapsing in a chain reaction. An unexpected war had sent material prices soaring through supply chain disruptions, the economy had soured, and as household debt ballooned, the government's panicked tightening of lending regulations was piling unsold apartments on top of everything else. It was the worst of all possible situations.

And so Koo Hoe-jin explained, in as much detail as he could muster, the deep freeze currently gripping the construction industry, laying bare the grievances of KG Construction.

"Construction may look like big money, but the actual net margins are laughably thin. Labor costs are climbing at a terrifying pace, skilled workers are nearly impossible to find, and we can barely scrape together unskilled foreign laborers. On top of that, this industry doesn't run on money alone. Unions, regional cartels, subcontracting disputes, permitting battles, litigation… the headaches never stop coming."

That might have flown in the old days when major projects rained down from the sky, but these days the business offered little in the way of profit. Remembering how KG Construction's earnings had shrunk quarter after quarter until it was now posting outright losses, Koo Hoe-jin let out a deep sigh without meaning to.

"My advice, Representative Kang: stay out of this industry. It's a sewer with nothing worth finding."

"Besides… aren't you already doing something you're good at? What your company needs right now isn't a new business — it's consolidation. Focusing on R&D would do far more for Limitless's growth, if you ask me…"

It was thoroughly realistic, coldly rational advice.

Privately satisfied that he had delivered the kind of bone-and-flesh wisdom befitting a senior figure in the industry, Koo Hoe-jin picked up his teacup once more and took a sip.

"Mm… I understand what you're saying, but I've already hired the employees, so backing out would be rather difficult."

"I'm sorry? Employees you've already hired could simply be reassigned to other roles — that's an easy problem to…"

"About five thousand of them?"

"……!"

At those words, Koo Hoe-jin sprayed the tea he'd been swallowing in every direction.

"Cough… what on earth are you saying? How many did you hire?"

"Five thousand… no, to be precise, 5,125 new hires this time."

KG Construction was a company with a market capitalization of roughly four trillion won.

Its entire workforce numbered only about 4,500 — and the head of Limitless had just hired more people than that. At those words, Koo Hoe-jin's eyes trembled wildly.

"No… what are you… five thousand people? As full-time employees…?"

"Yes. I looked into it, and apparently the manpower that goes into building even a single apartment complex is no joke. And even that seems woefully insufficient, so I plan to keep increasing headcount gradually."

"!!!"

And then Koo Hoe-jin understood.

The man sitting before him had just committed an act of sheer madness — hiring every last day laborer who worked the construction sites as permanent, full-time employees.

"Representative Kang! Are you out of your mind! Who on earth does something that insane!"

Losing his composure in an instant, Koo Hoe-jin shot up from his seat and exclaimed. Then, without realizing it, he kept drumming the table as he pressed on, his reaction growing more heated by the second.

"Most of those people vanish the moment a short-term project ends! Day labor, subcontracting, outsourcing — that's the industry's basic operating model! If you hire them all as permanent staff, how do you possibly absorb those costs? It's absolutely impossible!"

It was a low-margin industry to begin with.

Which meant that squeezing costs wherever possible was essential to extracting any profit at all — and so, through Koo Hoe-jin's eyes… no, through the eyes of any stray mutt on the street, hiring every day laborer as a permanent employee was unambiguously insane.

And yet…

In the eyes of Limitless's representative, it was not.

"Why shouldn't I hire them as permanent employees?"

"I'm sorry? Well, that's…"

"Is building cheap the thing that matters? If we hand construction over to short-term day laborers, does everyone end up happy?"

"……."

Day laborers, living hand to mouth.

With no job security, no benefits to speak of, working in the heat when it was hot and in the cold when it was cold, they belonged to the lowest rung of society, looked down upon by everyone. And so… it was work that no young person in Korea wanted to do.

"Who exactly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠volunteers for construction work? Everyone avoids it. The job is dangerous and grueling, the pay and treatment are poor, and society looks down on you for doing it… In the end, there's no one to hire, so the whole industry leans on foreign workers, doesn't it?"

"It's not a hidden-picture puzzle — the contractors hide every manner of defect and garbage inside the newly built homes, and because underqualified day laborers slap the work together however they please, the flaws pile up endlessly. Bugs pouring out of the furniture in a brand-new apartment, mold blooming on the walls, water leaking from the ceiling, cracks running up the pillars… a total catastrophe, really."

"……."

"And that's the current reality of the Korean construction industry, isn't it? Shoddy work, corruption, collusion, subcontractor exploitation, material substitution. Because everyone chases short-term profit, people are actually saying that apartments built thirty years ago are far more trustworthy than the ones going up today."

As Kang Gun condemned the state of the construction industry without pausing for breath, Koo Hoe-jin could say nothing at all. What he said was true — the deteriorating conditions of recent years had indeed unleashed a flood of slapdash construction and fraud across the industry.

"That's why I'm starting my own construction company. I couldn't exactly trust anyone else's."

"No subcontractors, no outsourcing, no temporary workers. Highly trained employees and trustworthy professionals will do the building themselves. I'll have them work with the conviction that they're building the very ground their own lives stand on."

Kang Gun added with a light smile:

"The cost? It'll cost a hell of a lot. It might even be inefficient. But buildings put up properly will still be standing strong fifty years from now. And the people living in them will be far happier for it."

Limitless's buildings were destined to boast the most expensive construction costs in all of Korea. But listening to him, Koo Hoe-jin finally understood. From the very beginning… this man hadn't entered the construction industry to make money at all.

"Isn't it the perfect business for blowing three trillion won on? It's not a business for making money — it's a business for spending it. Well, I do plan to keep expanding headcount, so the losses are going to shoot through the roof…"

"But hey, KG Group will be working hard to bring in the operating funds, so I don't imagine there'll be any problems, right?"

"……."

Faced with the realization that KG Group was the very pillar that would prop up Limitless's insane venture, Koo Hoe-jin had no reply whatsoever.