Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Qualifications of a Chairman (1)
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-Splash!
I’d deliberately left the cold tap water running. After scrubbing my face with that ice-cold stream for a good long while, my skin felt pulled tight, like the seat of spandex pants hugging an ass.
I rubbed my chilled cheeks with my palms and muttered to myself.
“Whoa… Dae-sik, that bastard. What the hell did he do? I still can’t believe it, even thinking about it again. Is this shit even possible?”
My head had started spinning, and suddenly I was back in the spring of 2008.
Over the three days of the funeral, I’d focused on coming to terms with my new reality.
Luckily, no one thought I was acting strange. They just chalked up my dazed reactions to a son grieving his father.
And now, finally, in the bathroom of my room at the Pyeongchang-dong estate, I’d managed to steady my tangled thoughts.
-Creak!
I shut off the dripping faucet. Then, to focus my mind, I lightly slapped my cheeks with both palms.
“Whew, alright. This isn’t a dream. Time to accept it. It’s really… 2008 right now. I’ve gone back in time.”
Spring 2008. A few months before the global financial crisis would hit that fall.
In my previous life, after taking the helm of Ammunition Group, I’d failed to handle the fallout from that crisis.
I ended up shouldering all the blame, got thrown in prison, and the whole group disintegrated in the meantime.
My eyes burned red just thinking about it—blood surged backward in my skull.
I bit my lip and tasted iron. Speaking to myself like a vow, I pressed on.
“I can’t repeat the same stupid mistakes in this second life. This time… I’ll swing a goddamn nuclear bat and rip it all apart.”
This time would be different.
I’d already spent ten years in prison replaying exactly how Ammunition Group fell, down to the last detail.
Obsessively, I’d devoured every newspaper and broadcast available inside, cramming it all into my brain.
“Ammunition Group was loaded with shaky subsidiaries. That’s why the debt bomb blew up during the financial crisis.”
Frozen economy, reckless expansion, botched tech investments, and on top of that, blunders from a bunch of incompetent, corrupt execs.
Unable to hold out, Ammunition Group splintered apart and vanished into the dustbin of history.
My hands gripped the sink edge, knuckles whitening. The cold porcelain against my skin brought a sharp sense of reality.
“Looking younger really drives it home that I’m back. Damn, I was actually young at this point.”
The bathroom mirror showed me: twenty-five again, a decade and change rewound.
Flawless skin without a blemish, a body honed by MMA training, thick, lush hair.
Even accounting for the male ego trip of admiring yourself in the mirror, I was glowing. Sure, the lighting helped a bit.
“But honestly, even I think I look pretty good. This face is fresh-faced handsome, right…?”
“You bet! Who’d our boy take after? Of course he’s fresh and handsome!”
Suddenly, my mom burst into my room out of nowhere.
Unlike her prematurely aged look from nursing me in prison in my last life, right now she could pass for any chaebol wife—young and vibrant. Even if… some people pointed fingers and called her a concubine.
My mom, a rising actress back then, and my dad, the young chairman of a powerhouse conglomerate.
Their fling while the official wife was out of the picture—gone early—had produced me.
“My boy. You were so brave and composed during the funeral, even while grieving. I was so proud.”
“Are you okay, Mom? You haven’t stopped crying since Dad passed.”
Bringing up Dad had been a mistake. Her eyes welled up, but she fought it back. It hurt to see.
Had she chosen motherhood over womanhood? Anyway, she pulled herself together quick, straightened her face, and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“You can’t do that anymore.”
“Huh? Do what?”
She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure if she should say it. Maybe she figured it was too soon for heavy talk.
“Not right now, but… you’ll learn in time. A crown’s waiting above our Seo-jun’s head.”
Crown. The chairman’s seat at Ammunition Group.
Back then, I hadn’t even grasped what the crown meant. Much less prepared to bear its weight.
Lost in bittersweet memories, I barely registered the commotion outside.
It was Cheongju-ssi, the maid, with her leisurely drawl, always graceful moves, and that thick Chungcheong dialect that made her so endearing.
“Little Madam! Big trouble, ma’am. What’re we gonna do?”
“Oh, Cheongju-ssi? What’s wrong?”
She made a fuss with her words, but her face stayed cool as ice.
With her honest face, she rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, signaling Mom wordlessly.
Show me the money, ma’am.
“He won’t talk unless the deposit hits. You know how he is, Little Madam…”
“Ugh, seriously! This lady doesn’t look the type, but she’s got a nose for cash like nobody’s business. Here, spill it quick!”
Ten crisp ten-thousand-won bills flew from Mom’s wallet. Those fresh blue cabbage leaves went straight into Cheongju-ssi’s apron pocket—goal.
The capitalist warrior who lived by fair trade, Cheongju-ssi dispensed her intel the second the payment cleared, like a vending machine.
“I overheard Director Seo on the phone just now, ma’am. She’s givin’ affiliate shares to the young master’s cousins.”
“What? That… that lightning-struck hag gives nothing to our Seo-jun but hands out shares to them? I’ll never forgive her!”
Mom’s pupils dilated like a frog’s king-sized eyes the instant Cheongju-ssi spoke.
She said she couldn’t forgive Grandma, but honestly, what was there to forgive?
Cold truth: Mom was the concubine. Not even on the family register.
By rights, she should’ve kept her head down in this house. But our Kim Seong-hye? When it came to her son, she flipped to berserk mode against even her lioness mother-in-law.
We hadn’t even reached the living room yet—still on the first-floor stairs. Mom unleashed a five-second battle cry straight at Grandma like a seasoned sniper.
“Mother-in-law! How could you do this to our Seo-jun? The eldest grandson of the Han family!”
* * * *
Deep in Ammunition Group was a steel empress they called Seo Taehu. Seo Myung-hee, the director keeping the group steady after the explosion left the chairman’s seat empty.
Even while handling her eldest son’s funeral, she never showed a flicker of grief on the surface.
She’d just hustled nonstop to right the teetering empire.
“Quit the dog yapping! Told the legal team to bring every damn affiliate split scenario—now!”
-Bang!
In Director Seo Myung-hee’s study on the first floor.
Pissed at something, she’d been barking at a subordinate over the phone, then slammed it down in a huff.
“Buncha airheads at group HQ, I swear! Hey, Cheongju-ssi. Bring some cold water!”
Cheongju-ssi happened to be cleaning nearby. She fetched the cold water as ordered, snuck a peek at the papers on the desk, and her face shifted just a tad.
Then she bowed quick and bolted.
“Guess I’ll be goin’ then, ma’am.”
“Out with you.”
Director Seo Myung-hee’s thoughts churned. A fountain pen spun above her right hand, mirroring the chaos in her head.
“If that Seo-jun punk ends up chairman but stays a puppet forever, at least we gotta save the financial affiliates…”
First in line for succession by family law, but still a kid: eldest grandson Han Seo-jun. Plus the bastard birth secret.
She needed to lock in the inheritance structure fast. Gut burning, she chugged the cold water on the desk.
The fire in her belly barely out, she sank deep into her chair for a breather—until a voice from outside shattered her sweet respite.
“Mother-in-law! How could you do this to our Seo-jun? The eldest grandson of the Han family!”
The daughter-in-law’s shout echoed through the house. A deep furrow creased Director Seo Myung-hee’s brow.
“That… that mudfish-headed bitch. Doesn’t even know pushing her brat is just devouring her own young…”
Cheongju-ssi had been extra shifty-eyed earlier, not like her usual self. Must’ve run straight to her mistress.
Actress trash roots, maybe? Director Seo Myung-hee grumbled that age just piled on more disloyalty than wisdom.
She snatched up the nearest throwable object and sprang from her seat like a coiled spring, storming to the living room.
“How dare a low-class concubine raise her voice in this house! Shut that trap right now!”
* * * *
-Whoosh!
A silver plaque whizzed past my head, inches from impact.
Aimed at Mom, apparently, but it veered my way. Grandma’s anger management was off the charts.
“Wenju Association says Seo-jun’s first in succession! What good’s first place with zero shares?”
“You crazy bitch with the flower bouquet mouth—shut it! A concubine lecturing on group succession?!”
Grandma’s roar was thunderous.
That icy glare through her metal-rimmed glasses could shrink anyone.
Forget her director title at Ammunition Group— she was Seo Taehu.
Even execs pissed themselves and changed pants after a summons and scolding.
Now her glare swung to me, the root cause standing back and watching.
“Han Seo-jun, you lip-glossed spineless shit! Still can’t crawl out from under Mommy’s skirt?!”
Old me wouldn’t have met her eyes. Just waited out the storm, worried about my soaked underwear.
But not anymore.
I knew why she yelled at me. Why she glared at far-off Mom.
I knew it all now. And it was just baggage I could shoulder.
“Yeah, you’re right. Not like I’m a mourning stone—I can’t just sit idle.”
I lifted my head. There loomed Mount Seo Myung-hee, director of Ammunition Group.
Time to climb it. And prepare to seize Ammunition Group in my hands.
“A skirt-clinging dimwit as chairman candidate? Might as well shut Ammunition Group down.”
“What, this punk?”
Grandma blinked at my unyielding stance—unfamiliar after a lifetime of my spinelessness.
Fists clenched tight, eyes locked firm, a light smirk on my lips. Face saying nothing scared me, I kept going.
“I’ll show you from now on. How I’ll claim Ammunition Group’s throne. So no one gives a damn about my bastard blood.”