Chapter 13
Chapter 13
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Myeongdong Hardliner (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ammunition Group headquarters, 45th floor—Strategy Office.
A tense-looking man stood before me, waiting for my response.
I, modeling myself after the image of a kindly boss, offered this little rat a warm, hearty curse.
"Yes, good work. Now, if you could just fuck off, that'd be great."
"Uh, Strategy Director? What do you—"
"Out. You spy fuck. If your shadow so much as touches the 45th floor from now on, you're dead by my hand. Got it?"
The department transfer applicant looked utterly flustered.
The clean-cut suit who’d just eaten a barrage of choice swears turned pale and bolted from the Strategy Office like his life depended on it.
"Whew... another spy. That's three in a row already. Isn't it, Deputy Director?"
Ammunition Group's new Strategy Office—and its head, me—needed capable, shining talent.
No matter how hungry I was, I couldn't just pick up scraps off the floor.
I needed thoroughly vetted slaves. Er, talent. Ones I could actually use.
"Heh heh heh. Tell me about it. Every bastard who shows up is either dead weight or a plant from Finance Director Han Hwa-gi."
My No. 1 slave, Kim Won-cheol—the deputy director now lording over me like the real boss.
His first task? Picking out No. 2 slave.
He slammed a stack of HR files onto the desk. Taking a swig of his strong coffee, he let out a hollow chuckle.
I drummed my fingers on the desk, showing my displeasure at the situation.
"It's one or the other. Either the higher-ups see the Strategy Office as a dumping ground for trash,"
Forced transfers.
No matter how much of a one-man show I'd put on at the group headquarters morning meeting, perceptions about the Strategy Office hadn't flipped overnight.
-Strategy Office? Oh, that paper tiger outfit? Perfect exile spot for low performers.
That was still the prevailing view among the managers.
Leaning back against the headrest of my chair, I continued in a bored tone.
"Or like that rat just now, Uncle's trying to plant some malware. Pretty much what we expected, right?"
"In the end, just like we thought from the start—only one candidate left."
Kim Won-cheol swept all the accumulated HR files from the back drawer into a pile.
Now, only a single personnel file remained on the interview desk.
Red pen marks scribbled all over it. The first page featured a photo of a woman with an affable smile.
"Hey, Director. This the one? The PB who got shuffled from Securities to Capital?"
"Shuffled against her will, more like. Check the red lines—her situation looks plenty messy, doesn't it?"
The PB role was unique to Ammunition Securities.
It was for servicing VIP clients with over 50 billion won in financial assets.
But Manager Yoo Se-na had been chased out of Ammunition Securities for some reason.
"Still, looks like she's got skills. Not even thirty yet, but she gives off total veteran asset management vibes."
"Hiya... this kid's only twenty-five, and you're calling thirty 'barely'?"
Oops. Slipped up there.
I'd been careful with my words for a while after regressing, but I'd apparently let my guard down.
Putting on a sly grin for effect, I shot back at Kim Won-cheol.
"We judge people by their substance, not their shell. Just like the Yoo Se-na we're about to see."
"Sigh... your answer feels a bit half-assed, if you ask me."
This old man's got pointless intuition for days. No wonder he's stuck to my side.
"Why nitpick? No time to waste—let's do the interview. Yoo Se-na, come on in!"
* * * *
"Whew..."
Yoo Se-na, with her neat dark brown hair and women's business suit.
She rubbed the sweat from her palms on her skirt hem.
Good thing it was black—if it'd been gray, the wet spots would've shown already.
"What the hell's going on in there? Everyone who's gone in comes out cursed up one side and down the other..."
As her nerves started to creep in, she pulled a small hand mirror from her pouch.
Her reflection stared back.
She bit her lower lip, creasing the glossy red lipstick.
The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth.
Pulling herself together, Yoo Se-na muttered softly.
"I have to get into the Strategy Office. Han Seo-jun, the Strategy Director—that's my only hope."
Ammunition Securities had abandoned her.
More precisely, its leadership had ditched her father, the major shareholder.
Myeongdong's loan shark king, Yoo Tae-chon.
Her father had been one of the founding members, ponying up capital when Ammunition Securities launched.
-[Daedong Ilbo] Ammunition Group firing the starting gun on securities venture? Teaming up with investment firms and lenders to bulk up...
Once Ammunition Securities settled stably into the system,
It became the start of tragedy for Yoo Se-na, not a blessing.
Led by Han Hwa-gi, the execs began purging the loan shark syndicate.
-[Hanseong Economy] Ammunition Securities runs fifth paid-in capital increase already. Following convertible bond conversions, existing shareholders' stakes dilute once more?
That was why her affiliation had shifted from Ammunition Securities to Ammunition Capital.
Even the heirs of founding contributors were stones to be pried out.
-Yoo Se-na, come in!
Yoo Se-na, still clutching her tension.
A man's voice—presumably the interviewer—rang in her ears.
"Han Seo-jun, Strategy Director... what kind of man is he, really?"
Rumor had it he was terrifyingly cold.
Especially that famous group headquarters morning meeting—word was, he openly flashed his status as Director Seo Myung-hee's grandson.
A savage who'd frozen veteran execs in place.
"Screw it. Let's just go in."
She opened the door. Two men: a bald middle-aged guy on the left, and a young man seated on the right.
"Whoa..."
Her eyes widened. A soft, genuine gasp escaped under her breath, too quiet for them to hear.
He looked even more handsome next to the bald guy.
No— the fluorescent lights reflecting off the older man's forehead made it seem like a halo effect.
And the thought in her head she couldn't voice aloud:
'I figured he was just some spoiled parachute brat with a mean streak... but damn, he's a total hunk?'
* * * *
"Hmm..."
Letting her personnel details roll off my tongue:
-Ammunition Capital Comprehensive Finance Team's youngest manager
-UChicago Economics, early graduation, graduated second in class
-Ammunition Securities Personal Finance Team PB performance #1
-Early promotions x2
The file on the desk. Info on Manager Yoo Se-na.
On paper, her specs dazzled. Hard to believe someone like this had been sidelined from the mainstream.
Which was exactly why... I needed to see her real story.
I'd heard about her from Mom and dug into it myself.
'So that's why she got moved from Securities to Capital—Uncle's doing.'
Pre-regression, Uncle had let Ammunition Group implode.
But like carving edible parts from a rotten apple, the companies he'd clung to till the end:
-Ammunition Securities
-Ammunition Casualty Insurance
Securities and casualty insurance—the core of the financial affiliates.
Unlike the tangled mess elsewhere, Uncle held major stakes there.
Because he'd booted the original outside founding investors.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Yoo Se-na."
"Have a seat, relax."
Her visible skills checked out. Low risk of betrayal when up against our common enemy, Han Hwa-gi.
"Hey, hey."
Something poked my side.
Kim Won-cheol winked at me with his right eye.
His pre-decided solo thumbs-up.
'Looks like this Yoo Se-na could ride with us?'
'Don't hire just for looks.'
'C'mon, what're you saying? Her dad's Myeongdong hardliner Yoo Tae-chon—natural enemy of Han Hwa-gi.'
'Lost his stake, daughter booted from Securities—he's gotta be sharpening his knife for revenge.'
'We can pull Yoo Tae-chon's funds through her too. Wink means green light. Got it?'
Kim Won-cheol blinking like a busted bulb.
Embarrassing as hell.
Better hold off locking eyes with this awkward middle-aged dude for now.
Shifting my gaze to Yoo Se-na, I tossed out a few simple questions.
First up: her insight.
"From Q3 to Q4 this year. What's the best move for me going forward?"
Year-end.
When the US-spawned financial crisis would slam the world.
She'd probably seen from the headquarters meeting minutes that I'd called it.
So the real crux of this question...
'What should I do that's best?'
Yoo Se-na. Do you get my situation right now?
Not as a mere subordinate, but as a potential business partner—show me your read on the board.
"I'll skip the technical details."
She looked me straight in the eye.
Her deep, dark eyes gleamed with confidence—like a lake under sunlight.
Suppressing my intrigue, I nodded calmly. Signaling I wanted her answer.
"Trade derivatives betting on the financial crisis. To acquire core stakes in Ammunition Group."
Core stakes in Ammunition Group.
Nailing it dead-on. She got the full picture.
Our potential shipmate had the basics down.
"Got it."
Glancing aside, Kim Won-cheol nodded with a smile.
He thought she was good enough already, but check the last box anyway—that was the signal.
My clasped hands tightened.
Carefully, but firmly.
I hit Yoo Se-na with question two.
"Does your father share your resolve?"
Her already round eyes turned doe-like. She couldn't hide her fluster—oops moment.
A brief silence. She countered with a question.
"...You knew?"
"As you see, my position's not rock-solid. External help always welcome."
Myeongdong hardliner Yoo Tae-chon.
Even if Uncle vaporized his Ammunition Securities stake, he'd still have spare cash.
Ammunition Group's control fight. You know it, right?
Name your bet.
If that's too much, at least show some fire.
"I can't commit on the amount, but..."
Yoo Se-na trailed off.
But I knew.
She'd come this far, jumping through interview hoops—no other answer she'd give me.
My eyes fixed on her red lips. A bit of waiting.
Finally, the voice I wanted slipped from between them.
"He's honing the blade. Ready to plunge it the moment the chance arises."