Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Swiss Bank (1)
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Ahead lay the vibrant energy of youthful revelry, while behind stood grand mansions piled high with gold. Itaewon.
Up so high that the thumping music from the entertainment district faded away—that was where the residence of Han Hwa-gi, Finance Headquarters Director of Ammunition Group, stood.
And beneath the towering wall, two black sedans glided to a smooth stop.
“Ah, hyung had to pick today of all days to go drinking! What a mess this is, seriously!”
The younger brother, Han Seo-hu, stepped out of the car.
His strawberry nose from all the booze he’d chugged made him grumble at his older brother.
“Hey, damn it… Dad’s gonna chew me out again because of you!”
Han Seo-ho, the eldest, had already endured enough of such complaints during the drive.
From his deeply furrowed brow, it was clear his feelings were hurt.
“You’re blaming me for this? Who could’ve known Dad would summon us in the dead of night?”
“Bullshit… Earlier you were all ‘let’s prove it with results’ and lecturing me nonstop, and now you’re backpedaling?”
Han Seo-ho pulled his tie from his pocket to straighten his appearance.
He seemed to think his thoroughly wasted brother’s words weren’t worth responding to.
Popping a chocolate into his mouth to mask the alcohol breath, he headed for the gate. His sharp retort was aimed at his brother.
“Cut the drunken whining and get your head straight. If you’re just gonna spout nonsense inside, keep your mouth shut instead.”
* * * *
A chill in the air. The stench of booze. Two entirely different atmospheres swirled in Han Hwa-gi’s study.
Evidently displeased with his sons’ states, Han Hwa-gi merely flicked his eyes toward them.
Without even turning his head their way, he spoke.
“You both drank, I take it.”
“Ah, yes! We three siblings got together for the first time in ages this evening to bond a bit! Haha!”
Han Seo-hu answered as if it were something to brag about. Watching him, Han Seo-ho rubbed his temples like he had a headache.
‘That idiot always picks the most useless words…’
He knew his father was cold and ruthless, despite being family. When Han Hwa-gi looked this irritated, it was best to tread carefully and match his mood.
Han Seo-ho racked his brains and spoke up quickly. He chose a direct approach.
“You mentioned the bastard illegitimate son who dares covet what belongs rightfully to you, Headquarters Director—no, Father.”
His father’s gaze, which had regarded the two pathetic failures like trash, softened slightly.
Han Hwa-gi turned his head just a bit, directing his eyes at his eldest son. He lifted his chin faintly, as if awaiting the next words.
Sensing the shift, Han Seo-ho knew he’d hit the mark.
“And… we’ve devised how to deal with that mongrel who dares bare its fangs at the next master of Ammunition Group.”
“As expected from the eldest. At least one of you has some brains. A relief.”
Praise emerged from the lips of Han Hwa-gi, who was usually as cold-blooded as they come. And it was directed solely at his firstborn.
Han Seo-ho let out a sigh of relief.
Thirty-five years as the eldest son. All that time eating scraps under his father’s eye had paid off.
‘Phew, he bought it. If I keep this up…’
Of course, in a fair world, for every earner, there’s a waster.
In critical moments, your own side always had a troll.
“Hic, uh, but Dad. Why didn’t you call Seo-hee here?”
Still buzzed, Han Seo-hu tossed out the question with a hiccup.
He was on the verge of ruining the mood Han Seo-ho had so carefully set.
‘Ugh… That useless moron who’s never helped once in his life! If your head’s empty, at least read the damn room!’
Fuming inwardly at his brother’s pathetic display but unable to show it, Han Seo-ho held back.
Fortunately, his father didn’t erupt in anger.
“…Seo-hu, you have much to learn from your brother.”
“It’s my fault for not guiding him properly. Might as well teach him now.”
Han Seo-ho thought it worked out for the best. Establishing the dynamic of the competent older brother and inept younger one could only improve the picture.
For the first time ever, he showed his brother a gentle side as he began explaining.
“The clan elders see Ammunition Group as the Han family’s sole property. The shareholders’ meeting is heavily influenced by the clan council. Get it now?”
“Nope? Your explanation’s such a mess, I can’t grasp it at all.”
With booze fueling him, Han Seo-hu clearly despised his brother’s facade.
He went on, making obnoxious sounds to needle him further.
“And Seo-hee’s Han family too, right? What’s the problem?”
“Once Seo-hee marries and has kids, those kids won’t be Hans. That’s the limit of a married-out woman.”
“Oh yeah… True. Those old fogeys and their outdated thinking. Stuck at Cheonghak-dong level.”
Han Seo-ho sneered inwardly at his brother’s disheveled state and clouded judgment.
‘Idiot… Yeah, that’s your place. No need for you to worry about that subprime stuff he mentioned.’
To him, his brother’s talk of some US financial crisis seemed trivial.
After all, tracing it back, it all stemmed from the head of that illegitimate son he so despised.
“Seo-ho, you’re deep-minded. Broad perspective too.”
“You flatter me, Father.”
“As you said, the clan council’s influence is immense. So Seo-hee will gradually be pushed out of group management.”
Han Hwa-gi rose and pressed his right hand firmly on Han Seo-ho’s shoulder. The highest show of trust he could offer.
“The eldest must step up, then. The second son too, shape up.”
“I’m always ready to be your strength, Father. Just call on me.”
His firstborn’s reliable demeanor seemed to genuinely please him after so long.
Deciding to offer a bit more trust, Han Hwa-gi cautiously spoke.
“There’s a secret I can’t even tell the group executives. No, not even the servants. It concerns the late chairman.”
“What kind of…?”
“Untagged money lies dormant overseas somewhere. Over the past decade-plus, traces of funds leaking from the books.”
The late chairman’s untagged slush fund.
Surely stashed in anonymous overseas accounts beyond the reach of the tax office or prosecutors.
And… on a scale that could serve as a lethal dagger in the decisive moment.
Han Seo-ho’s mind sharpened as he carefully raised a hand to ask.
“Do you know the amount, by chance?”
“Not precisely, but factoring in laundering and routing through tax havens…”
The atmosphere was so tense even his Adam’s apple bob wasn’t audible.
Having calculated mentally, Han Hwa-gi finally spoke.
“Roughly… 100 million USD. About 1,000 billion won in Korean currency.”
“1,000 billion won!”
1,000 billion won.
Pure cash, 100%.
With that much slush fund, in a crisis, you could buy friendly shares and play white knight.
If management control was secure, it could serve as capital to spin off a major affiliate.
“Depending on use, it’ll at least prime the pump. In a truly pivotal moment.”
* * * *
Subtly—or perhaps blatantly—money-minded as she was, Cheongju-ssi rightfully belonged in this Pyeongchang-dong mansion.
Her cooking skills alone rivaled any Korean restaurant chef.
After finishing the late dinner and patting my full belly, she brought dessert tangerine tea and said to me.
“Young Master, once you’re done eating, the Little Madam wants you in her room for a bit.”
“What’s it about?”
“No idea. Why would this old lady know?”
Mom had looked like she had something to say since I got home.
She’d just held off because my head seemed preoccupied.
“Phew… What the hell is Kim Won-cheol up to, anyway.”
Kim Won-cheol.
The man creasing my brow even now.
This morning.
When I said we’d need 2,000 billion won to win the share battle, he pondered, then nodded.
‘2,000 billion. 2,000 billion… Not sure about the rest, but I can cover half at least.’
‘How do you plan to scrape together 1,000 billion won?’
Honestly, I hadn’t expected much from him. His talk and demeanor around that sum hadn’t seemed serious.
The way he cracked the office door to check for listeners before shutting it was straight out of a comedy.
But the note scribbled in the corner of that paper couldn’t be dismissed lightly.
-Yang Taek-su, Ammunition Group Vice President
-Han Yul-san, former Han clan council secretary
‘Swiss bank. Yang Taek-su has the ID, old man Han Yul-san has the password. Both were your father’s men.’
‘Swiss bank… Overseas slush fund? Did Father hide it separately?’
Yang Taek-su, Han Yul-san, and Kim Won-cheol.
Father had dispersed control of the overseas slush fund among the three.
Fate’s prank, perhaps?
The Kim Won-cheol before me held the personal details of those with the ID and password—a key man of sorts.
‘Set it up for defending management control. In exchange rates, Korean money… roughly 1,000 billion won.’
*Knock knock!*
Lost in thought about this morning, I’d arrived at Mom’s room at the end of the second floor.
“Seo-jun, you finish eating? Come in, come in. Mom has something to tell you.”
“What’s up, Mom?”
“Shh!”
She pressed her right index finger to her lips, signaling silence. It felt like a spy movie game—I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Jeez. What’s got you acting like this today, Mom?”
Only after the door shut did she grant me speaking rights. Even then, her volume was barely a whisper.
After tapping on her laptop for a bit, she turned the screen toward me.
“It’s yours now, son.”
“Mo…m? What is this…?”
Stocks worth over 10 billion in pure valuation.
Even more shocking were the details. Financial assets left untouched for 20 years, never withdrawn once.
It felt touching, like they’d been waiting just for me, for this exact moment.
I couldn’t find words. Mom pinched my cheek lightly and said.
“I’d kept it as emergency cash in case we got kicked out of this house, but I don’t think we need to worry anymore.”
“Mom…”
“With such a capable son backing me up, no way we’d get chased out. Aigoo, my handsome boy.”