Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Swiss Bank (2)
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My vision blurred slightly, as if tears were about to spill over.
It was because of the years it took for Mom to receive that seed money from the terrifying grandmother for the first time, and the effort she put into growing it.
And even more so... because before my regression, she had supported me in prison with this money.
“Mom... I don’t think I can accept this money.”
Mom must have had so many worries.
A concubine—no, a woman with an illegitimate child—how much scorn she must have endured in the Han family of Ammunition Group.
Derisive gazes, and the money that grew bit by bit each year. She could have just packed up and left somewhere far away with it.
But Mom didn’t.
“Don’t say that, dear.”
Mom took a step closer and hugged me tight. My expression, which I’d been forcing to stay calm, finally let my true emotions show.
“I prepared this for today. Mom doesn’t care how you use it, Seo-jun.”
“Thank you so much... Mom.”
And so, a touching mother-son scene unfolded.
After we both composed ourselves, I finally started to take in the details of the investment amount.
-[Stock Holdings Ratio] Ammunition Heavy Industries 11.5%, Ammunition Construction 14%, Ammunition Securities 9%....
Mom’s stock portfolio was mostly filled with Ammunition Group affiliates.
“Mom, these are mostly Ammunition Group stocks?”
“I just went with what I knew best. My PB—private banker—recommended them too.”
Ammunition Group affiliates.
Though their end was near, based on the economic cycle up to now, they had been the best choice.
They had ridden the mid-2000s economic boom, with stock prices soaring to the heavens.
Red arrows showed the investment returns. Mom seemed to like the PB who had proven their skill with results.
“That PB said to hold for now and liquidate by the end of the year. The timing’s good, right?”
“By the end of the year...?”
Well, well.
Not just the time to enter, but the time to exit too. They had nailed the timing spot on.
Whoever this PB was, their investment sense was exceptionally sharp.
A sudden instinct flashed in my mind. I needed to learn more about this person.
Carrying that thrilling feeling, I asked Mom,
“Mom, do you happen to know who that PB is?”
“Oh! I forgot to mention that too. Well, her name is....”
Was she drawing a blank? Mom pulled out a business card notebook from the desk drawer.
And ‘that kid’?
I’d thought they were quite experienced given their market insight, but it turned out to be a young PB?
“Found it! I always forget. Ho ho ho.”
Like Captain Hook finding Treasure Island, Mom held the business card triumphantly over her head.
Then that small piece of paper landed in my hand.
On it was a name and title that felt vaguely familiar.
-[Ammunition Capital Comprehensive Finance Team] Yoo Se-na, Manager
“Yoo Se-na... Manager?”
“She used to handle me at Ammunition Securities, but she transferred here this year? I was so sorry to see her go.”
I remembered now.
Yoo Se-na Manager. This woman was definitely in the personnel file that Grandmother had given me.
And right away, a strange unease hit me.
Something in the way Mom added that detail sparked an instinct.
An instinct that I had to secure her, no matter what.
“Yoo Se-na Manager... She grew it to over 10 billion won, so she can probably handle 100 billion later, right?”
* * * *
The Han family of Ammunition Group.
With their strong Confucian traditions, at least the direct line was buried at the ancestral grave site.
In the season shifting from late summer to early autumn, an elderly man with gray-white hair stood before the grave in the drizzling rain.
The man, looking dazed, was Ammunition Group’s Vice President Yang Taek-su.
“Sigh, Chairman, why did you leave this old man behind so suddenly without a word....”
Yang Taek-su Vice President scattered the bitter tears in the liquor glass over the grave.
Mixed with the falling rain, the soju flowed across the grass, stinging harshly.
From the Gumi Munitions Factory explosion compensation to the next chairman succession battle. The burdens on the frail old man’s shoulders seemed ready to crush him at any moment.
Especially since he had stopped by Gumi to see the site before coming here.
The devastation left him even more at a loss for how to handle the aftermath.
“Vice President, perhaps we should go now. You’ll catch a cold in this rain.”
“...Yes. Let’s head out.”
His body had grown cold.
Deep down, he wanted to join the Chairman, whose body had also grown cold, right then and there.
“If only this weren’t the case....”
Yang Taek-su pulled a notebook from his jacket’s inner pocket.
The reason the old man couldn’t rest in peace. It was the traces of the late Chairman written in that notebook.
Beyond the worn leather cover, the first page held a twelve-character mix of letters and numbers.
The ID for a Swiss bank account containing 100 billion won in slush funds.
“What should I do? If only I could use it for the Gumi factory compensation....”
Yang Taek-su shook his head.
With the compensation already at 3.8 trillion won, this was a drop in the bucket.
If this slush fund had to be used—if it must be used—
It would suit as war chest funds for the battle over management rights. For the throne.
“Hm?”
The raindrops on the car window had stopped, and sunlight peeked through the clouds.
As if it had never been, the dark path ahead was now brightly lit. Yang Taek-su needed an existence just like that sunlight.
And at that moment, as if on cue, his phone lit up.
A light as bright as sunshine.
-[Kim Won-cheol]
“...I’ll live long enough to see this. Even a loafer like you calls me.”
“Hey, what’s with that? I might cry from feeling slighted.”
“Cut the nonsense.... I heard you’re back. Why not show your face right away?”
Perhaps because he was coming back from visiting the late Chairman, Yang Taek-su felt a bit miffed.
To him, Kim Won-cheol gave an answer that would send any resentment flying sky-high, something utterly unexpected.
As if flipping through the cherished page in the leather notebook.
“I needed to prepare. To bring in the heir for the Swiss bank account.”
“How do you know about that?!”
Yang Taek-su startled and shouted.
His usually mild-tempered self acting this way must have been odd, as the driver glanced back via the rearview mirror.
“Ahem... Deok-sun, just focus on driving, don’t mind me.”
Lowering his voice again, Yang Taek-su whispered to Kim Won-cheol.
“Listen, Kim Won-cheol. Did you know too? About what the Chairman left behind?”
“I’m one of the key holders too. What I was entrusted with is who has the ID and password, and....”
A gulp echoed from his throat. How much time passed?
It was just Kim Won-cheol pausing briefly, but to Yang Taek-su, it felt like his insides were burning black.
“...And?”
“Heh heh... You’re impatient. And who the account will be inherited by.”
“Hmm....”
Just then, a highway rest area came into view.
Yang Taek-su gestured to the driver to pull over for a bit.
* * * *
“Deok-sun, step out for a while. Come back when I call.”
“Yes, Vice President.”
In the now quiet car,
Finally alone, Yang Taek-su continued more freely.
“I’ll be frank. I won’t deny you’re a key holder. You know about the Swiss bank, after all.”
Was it the separation from the noisy outside?
Yang Taek-su seemed to have regained some composure.
The gloom had flown away.
Now he was back to the seasoned veteran of decades on the battlefield.
“And I won’t ask who has the password. It’s a security matter.”
“Thank you for trusting me, Vice President.”
“However.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Kim Won-cheol, or the late Chairman who entrusted him with naming the heir.
The issue was timing.
The Gumi factory explosion and management dispute would plunge the group into chaos.
Right now, the successor had to be someone proven able to bear the crown’s weight.
Yang Taek-su’s voice was firm.
Colder than ever, he pressed Kim Won-cheol point by point.
“I can’t accept the decision on the heir. This is your unilateral choice, isn’t it?”
“Is Strategy Director Han Seo-jun not up to par?”
“He’s unproven. If he were clearly next chairman material, maybe. But now... he’s just a green kid, isn’t he?”
The veteran was anxious.
100 billion won. In his mind, the only immediate use was securing management rights.
Handing the Swiss bank ID to the heir
Would be tantamount to declaring support for the next chairman.
A 25-year-old with unproven abilities as next chairman.
“He’s still lacking. But... if, just if.”
Yang Taek-su trailed off.
Suddenly recalling that moment from the group morning meeting a few days ago.
Did it overlap with the late Chairman’s old self?
It was too bold for a young hothead’s bravado, but he wanted to believe just that once.
Even if it was false hope, he wanted to give a chance.
“If that young man has what it takes to lead Ammunition Group’s future. Say, if he resolves this Gumi factory explosion.”
At that meeting, the kid had clearly said:
‘The castle of Ammunition Group built on sand—Strategy Office will draft how to solidify the foundation. Give us budget and manpower.’
A draft, a map of the group’s direction.
Sensing his time was short, the old man had to see that draft.
A clear, transparent watercolor from someone with time ahead, overcoming the current crisis and painting the future.
“Then I could trust and entrust it to him. Still anxious... but the chairman’s seat can’t stay empty.”
* * * *
“So, we just mark a circle for Vice President Yang Taek-su?”
“A circle’s too much—maybe a triangle? His jaw’s triangular too.”
Uncle Kim Won-cheol’s dad-joke sense is utterly unpredictable.
It’s not funny at first, but thinking it over, it kinda makes sense, and a snicker slips out.
Laugh openly, though, and it hurts his pride.
Anyway, I drew a triangle next to Vice President Yang Taek-su’s name on the whiteboard.
“Anyway. In the end, it hinges on how we resolve the Gumi factory issue. Then the remaining one is....”
Han Yul-san, former clan secretary.
The grandfather with the Swiss bank password—a must-recruit.
Uncle Kim Won-cheol seemed lost in thought. After groaning for a while, he shook his head and spoke to me.
“Let’s handle Elder Han Yul-san after Grandpa Yang’s settled.”
He must have seen the question mark over my head.
Uncle Kim Won-cheol thumped his chest with his fist and boasted confidently.
“Don’t worry. It’s me, Kim Won-cheol. Boasting an IQ of 144 and a shining brain.”
“It does shine, for sure. The head, at least.”
The fluorescent light was bright—I guess it was reflecting off his bald forehead.
No need to wound his delicate feelings. I quickly shifted the topic to work before he noticed.
“Anyway, that leaves reinforcing Strategy Office personnel, so it’s time to call them in.”