Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: Shanghai Capital (1)
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-Rrrriiiing!
A blaring phone ring.
After the board meeting wrapped up, the number of people trying to reach me had spiked dramatically these past few days.
And who could blame them? I was the freshly appointed chairman of Ammunition Group at just twenty-five years old. It'd be weirder if they weren't curious.
Even though the final shareholder vote was still pending, the influx of people pulling strings everywhere had Yoo Se-na's workload exploding.
Just as the incessant ringing—like a fussy kid demanding food—finally started to die down, Yoo Se-na called out to me from beyond the partition.
“Chairman? So we skip the Chamber of Commerce and push back the meeting with the Defense Ministry Vice Minister?”
“I'm not meeting anyone until after the shareholders' meeting. And... I'm not the chairman yet. Please stop calling me that.”
Chairman. Or more precisely, chairman-designate.
The title still felt foreign to me.
It wasn't just about laying low until the shareholders' meeting. There was still something missing... until I could reclaim what had been taken from me in my past life.
Oblivious to my inner thoughts, Yoo Se-na flashed a smile mixed with amusement and bewilderment.
“Hmm... Deputy Director Kim told me to practice calling you Chairman ahead of time.”
“Deputy Director Kim Won-cheol said that? Isn't he out on a field assignment right now?”
Uncle Kim Won-cheol, who issued pointless orders and then vanished.
I turned to glare at his empty desk, and right on cue—like some proverb about tigers—he strode into the office.
“YO! Chairman!”
“The culprit's here. Yoo Se-na Manager? Redirect all the miscellaneous meetings left today to the deputy director.”
A sudden avalanche of tasks dumped on him.
The bald uncle, who'd been chugging orange juice from the break room fridge, widened his eyes like a startled deer.
“Hey now, you gonna pile more on the guy who just slaved away outside in this sweltering heat?”
“I'm busy too. I've got somewhere to go with Yoo Se-na Manager.”
I casually handed him a black binder.
It contained a list of essential external contacts we absolutely had to meet.
But today, for some reason, he wasn't focusing on my explanation.
Wondering what was up, I tilted my head, and suddenly Uncle Kim Won-cheol seemed to have an epiphany, as if an invisible bright bulb lit up over his head.
“Aha. I get it now.”
“Get what?”
“What perfect timing this is. Back in my day, when I had a full head of hair, women around me were just...”
The bald guy had hit the wrong button with his delusions.
Fearing anyone might overhear, I denied it as quickly as possible.
“...It's not that. Keep your weird fantasies locked in the past.”
“Everything's ready, Chairman. Or should I say, Director?”
Right on time, Yoo Se-na Manager announced she'd prepped the car.
The grumpy fifty-something, suddenly saddled with work, jutted out his lip and whined at me.
“Ah, going off somewhere without me? Gonna make me all teary-eyed.”
“You won't want to come once you hear. It'll bring back more scary memories than good ones.”
“Scary memories? What're you talking about?”
Yoo Se-na Manager sat quietly in the corner, stifling a laugh.
She definitely remembered.
That day, when a knife from the display case was pulled out and held to my throat—the startled reaction on Uncle Kim Won-cheol's face.
I stood, grabbed my jacket from the rack, and slipped it on. Just like that day months ago when I'd gone hunting the old wolf.
“Myeongdong. We're heading to Myeongdong to see Yoo Se-na Manager's father.”
* * * *
A quiet residential neighborhood in Myeongdong, nestled at the foot of Namsan Mountain.
The cool autumn breeze blowing down from the hillside was pushing summer away.
And the man sitting before me now seemed intent on riding a similar current to sweep something else aside.
Yoo Tae-chon casually placed a worn paper passbook—rarely used these days—next to his teacup and spoke.
“The promised investment amount. Sixty billion won. Hope it's not too late.”
“With the crown now in my hands, isn't this the perfect timing for us to trust each other and move forward?”
I set down my teacup and laced my quiet words with steel.
It was a rebuke tinged with reproach—he'd only secured the funds after I'd been approved as chairman by the board.
“Between allies sharing the same boat, fussing over the exact departure date just gives us headaches.”
“Hahaha! Slipping sharp thorns into such smooth words, are we? And...”
Perhaps reading the grim shadow in my faint smile, Yoo Tae-chon forced a hearty laugh as he continued.
“That crown you're merely holding. Whether it stays on your head is still uncertain, isn't it?”
“Well, if that's how you see it, nothing I can do.”
“I understand. However, I've staked a significant portion of my assets on this. I'd appreciate it if you didn't forget that.”
The old wolf's growl carried the implication that the shareholders' meeting still loomed.
Once we'd exchanged all the words we needed—and wanted—to say, the mood cooled like the autumn breeze blowing in.
No glaring stares between us, just sharing the bitter aroma from our teacups.
“In any case, we're past the point of dismounting the tiger's back. All we can do is pray for smooth sailing.”
“I always keep in mind that you've invested in a high-risk venture. Which is why...”
I deliberately trailed off, then continued in a low voice, slow and deliberate.
“Since you're helping anyway, how about one more favor? Ah, not so much me asking for help as...”
“......”
“Something that benefits us both... wouldn't that be a better way to frame it?”
“Benefits, you say.”
The long scar drooping below Yoo Tae-chon's right eyebrow.
As his wrinkled eye twitched, the deep furrows of time seemed to probe my every word and gesture like insect antennae.
Yoo Tae-chon held back his response. Under his urging glance to get to the point, I spoke in a low voice.
“The remaining Ammunition Securities shares—you were planning to offload them anyway, right?”
“I'm gauging market conditions.”
“No need. Sell them all through brokers, and fast. And make sure to spread the rumor loud and clear.”
Yoo Tae-chon didn't hide his displeasure at my words.
His gaze shifted upward through the lattice window to the plaque hanging from the beam.
[Revenge interest compounds]
Perhaps using the boldly inscribed family motto on the ebony wood as a warning directed at me.
“Let me think... Our Chairman—no, Strategy Director—must be bad at math. This doesn't sound profitable?”
At present, Ammunition Securities' stock was down about 15% from what he'd bought in.
That's why he hadn't liquidated even after getting tangled with me over the Cocoa Bank deal.
I met his eyes, brimming with discomfort, and replied.
“Of course, dumping them straight at market price would be.”
“What difference does using brokers make? What makes you so sure?”
“I won't go into details. Just make a big noise in Yeouido. 'Myeongdong's tough nut Yoo Tae-chon is selling all his Ammunition Securities shares.'”
Yoo Tae-chon pondered.
I didn't bother explaining the reason.
If he truly intended to join hands with me for the big picture, he'd grasp the meaning behind my words.
“Beat the drums, bang the cymbals—spread the rumor until securities firms in Yeouido complain about the noise.”
“Spread rumors, huh.”
“Do that, and... you'll likely walk away with at least 20%, maybe over 30% profit compared to current prices.”
Yoo Tae-chon stroked his short, grizzled salt-and-pepper beard.
Eyes closed in thought, he fell silent for a while.
In the parlor, filled only with the ticking of the wall clock's second hand, the old wolf who smelled blood finally bared his fangs through a grin.
“You're plotting something.”
“I'll say this much: those Ammunition Securities shares you're holding—you won't be able to sell them if not now. Ever.”
“Hmm. Rumors, rumors...”
The emphasis shifted from stocks to rumors.
Even if he couldn't pinpoint it exactly, his instincts seemed to sense something.
Ammunition Securities. The weakest link in Ammunition Group's circular ownership structure.
A detail only Uncle Kim Won-cheol—who designed the current setup—and I knew.
It had to be what Han Hwa-gi, and the Munjung Association and Shanghai Capital backing him, were hunting for.
Here... I'd bury a landmine.
One that could blow off a leg. No, one that could take out the torsos of all the enemies gathered around.
“Whew... I nearly kept holding that bomb of mine. Ha ha ha!”
“Looks like you've spotted the hidden picture. Can I trust you to handle it now?”
Yoo Tae-chon laughed boldly—no, coarsely. Having made his decision, he slapped the floor with his palm and replied.
“Got it. I'll do exactly as our Chairman Han says. You wanted it noisy, so I'll make Yoonjoong-ro marketplace erupt.”
* * * *
“That's weird... what the hell is going on?”
Han Hyung-min, the Munjung chairman, scowled at the message on his phone.
Thanks to his prestigious family, folks in the securities world regularly fed him the latest gossip—what they called “tip sheets.”
“Damn it. Why's that Yoo Tae-chon stirring up trouble again? I've got enough headaches already.”
“What's wrong?”
“Dad. One of those Yeouido money-broker punks messaged me urgently.”
Grumbling his explanation—short on eloquence—Han Hyung-min Munjung chairman handed his phone to his father.
“Yoo Tae-chon... is selling his Ammunition Securities shares?”
“For real? He clung to those like a dead son's balls. Doesn't make sense for the old coot. Why dump them now?”
Honorary Advisor Han Deok-sul felt a chill creep up his spine. He began retracing every possibility.
“Not for separating affiliates... and Yoo Tae-chon isn't hurting for cash either.”
“Exactly! This place is crawling with shit-stirrers everywhere! This Munjung chairman hat's giving me migraines—I can't wear it anymore, seriously.”
“You fool... always running your mouth!”
As usual, Honorary Advisor Han Deok-sul geared up to scold his son.
Then suddenly, a flash of insight sparked before his eyes.
“Wait, wait. Hold on.”
“Yeah?”
The old man froze with his hand raised, lost in thought.
He recalled the phone call a few days back with James Wang, director at Shanghai Capital.
'Ammunition Group's circular ownership structure. It's not easy for us to map out. Does the Munjung chairman know it?'
'That... there was a governance change about two years ago...'
'We've secured the real ammo, but without the weak link, we can't move.'
Two years ago. The rushed overhaul of Ammunition Group's circular ownership under the late chairman's orders.
Done so secretly, through off-the-books channels, that even Finance HQ—including Han Hwa-gi—had no one fully briefed.
'Find the clear target. Massive capital is like a rabid hound... without prey in sight, who knows what it'll bite.'
'...I'll have it ready before the shareholders' meeting.'
A warning from the uncontrolled Chinese capital, accompanied by sweat dripping down his face.
Had that swallowed fear acted as a catalyst?
The scattered puzzle pieces in Honorary Advisor Han Deok-sul's mind began slowly falling into place.
“No way... this is it!”
“Dad?”
No time to mind his son's dumbstruck head-tilt.
The old man snatched his phone and called Han Hwa-gi. His other arm barely propped against the desk, supporting his trembling body.
Finally, after a long string of connection tones, Han Hwa-gi's voice came through.
Skipping pleasantries in his urgency, Honorary Advisor Han Deok-sul cut straight to it.
“It's Han Deok-sul. We need to talk urgently. Come as fast as you can!”