Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Nguyen Seo Chun (1)
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“This is just….”
In the Ammunition Group headquarters building overlooking Cheonggyecheon Stream.
Han Hwa-gi, newly promoted to Finance Headquarters Director, looked utterly baffled by the situation.
With a question mark practically floating over his head, he rested his chin on his hand, murmuring something under his breath with a puzzled expression.
“Han Seo-jun… what the hell is he thinking?”
It was within expectations that his nephew had received the Strategy Director title from Director Seo Myung-hee.
The Strategy Office.
A brand-new department with no precedents and vaguely defined authority.
Was that why?
Not a single person had applied to transfer there. It was little more than a paper organization without a proper staff pool.
“Has he given up already? Without even fighting? That doesn’t sound like him….”
Han Hwa-gi fiddled with the documents on his desk. It was a report from Yoo Ji-won, the Audit Team Leader and his closest confidant.
-Han Seo-jun Strategy Director has not shown up for work for a week. His whereabouts are unknown; he hasn’t appeared anywhere, including the company.
Han Hwa-gi’s mood soured.
Clearly, the fierce glint in his nephew’s eyes when he received the personnel transfer papers in Seo Taehu’s study had been that of a predator.
Han Seo-jun, who had already bared his fangs and claws with keywords like Heavy Industries, Construction, and Shipbuilding & Marine.
For him to give up so soon? It didn’t make sense. It was an impossible scenario by any logic.
*Knock knock knock!*
The sound of a knock from his direct secretary pulled him from his thoughts. The clock read 8:50 a.m. The group headquarters morning meeting was fast approaching.
“Headquarters Director, it’s time to head out.”
“Already? Hey, Secretary Kim.”
Han Hwa-gi seemed to have an idea. He closed his eyes briefly to organize his thoughts before speaking.
“After the meeting, gather the presidents of the financial affiliates separately.”
“Yes, understood, Headquarters Director.”
“And have my kids join them too. Seo-ho, Seo-hu, and Seo-hee—all three.”
Han Seo-ho, Han Seo-hu, and Han Seo-hee, Han Hwa-gi’s children. The three held deputy manager positions at Ammunition Securities, Ammunition Casualty Insurance, and Ammunition Capital, respectively.
Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have them at a presidents’ meeting—they were still too green.
But with the succession battle just igniting, he needed to show something, even if it meant playing a risky hand.
“All three have separate schedules today….”
“Schedules be damned—make sure they come, no matter what. Absolutely no tardiness.”
“Yes, Headquarters Director. I’ll relay that exactly.”
His secretary, reading the room, bowed politely and walked away.
Han Hwa-gi straightened his crooked tie in the mirror, muttering in a voice too low for others to hear.
“…Just in case, I should have the money men cook up some results for my kids.”
From what he’d heard through his informants in the Pyeongchang-dong mansion, Seo Taehu seemed inclined to give his children shares in the financial affiliates.
In that case, promoting them from deputy manager to manager or even Executive Director wouldn’t draw much backlash.
Lost in these pleasant thoughts, Han Hwa-gi stepped out of the room. Suddenly, his pocket buzzed.
-Vrrrrm!
“Ah, Yoo Ji-won. What’s up?”
“H-Headquarters Director! Big trouble!”
Yoo Ji-won, the Audit Team Leader, sounded like hot coals had fallen on his feet.
He was the type who never showed panic before his boss, no matter the scolding.
Hearing his subordinate’s frantic voice, a chill of foreboding ran down Han Hwa-gi’s spine.
Heavy Industries, Construction, Shipbuilding & Marine.
It felt like his nephew’s sharp blade was closing in.
“No way….”
“Han Seo-jun—Strategy Director Han Seo-jun has shown up! He’s… he’s digging into the KS Industries slush fund connection right now!”
“What! How the hell does Han Seo-jun know about KS!”
Han Hwa-gi’s distorted expression reflected in the mirror.
Why were bad premonitions always spot-on? And why did misfortune always pile on?
Yoo Ji-won sounded like he was already breaking into a cold sweat just from his voice. Over the phone, he delivered another piece of bad news.
“And… Director Seo Myung-hee says she’s attending today’s group headquarters meeting. Headquarters Director? Headquarters Director?”
Han Hwa-gi clenched his fists, grinding his teeth.
It had been just a week since the board was set, and Han Seo-jun’s heavy jab had already slammed into his face.
*Tick tock, tick tock….*
The indifferent clock hands seemed to mock him, urging him to hurry to the morning meeting.
“Han Seo-jun, that bastard….”
* * * *
“Nguyen! Nguyen! Get over here!”
The foreman’s desperate call for me.
Here, I wasn’t Han Seo-jun. I was just a hardworking Vietnamese migrant worker, a proud descendant of the Vietnamese royal family working in Korea.
The fake ID card on the badge around my neck bore my alias.
-Daily Laborer: Nguyen Seo Chun
A few days ago, after receiving the Strategy Director title from Grandmother, I’d agonized over my options.
I had only three months. I needed to prove my worth to Seo Taehu in that time.
I considered every method, but in the short term, there was only one way.
Expose the rot in Ammunition Heavy Industries, Ammunition Construction, and Ammunition Shipbuilding & Marine—especially the parts tied to Uncle—and warn about it in advance.
“Hey, you! Nguyen! What’re you doing up there? Stop slacking and get down here quick!”
“Foreman talks too much. Foreman is noisy bald guy.”
“What? Where’d you learn Korean like that, Nguyen? You sure you’re really Vietnamese?”
The place I was now was Ulsan Metropolitan City, where Ammunition Group affiliates’ production bases were clustered.
A marine plant project jointly run by Ammunition Heavy Industries, Ammunition Construction, and Ammunition Shipbuilding & Marine. The foundation structures loomed before my eyes.
My heart raced, but I couldn’t let it show.
As a foreign laborer in disguise, what I needed wasn’t awe—it was method acting.
To truly become Nguyen, I’d even smeared my face with thin layers of military camo cream.
With tanned skin, matted hair, and shabby clothes, I looked every bit the down-and-out migrant worker.
“Nguyen speaks Korean good. Nguyen is Vietnam elite. Foreman is balding elite.”
“Shut it! Enough nonsense—move it, now!”
At first, I’d considered flashing my Strategy Director business card and demanding the company ledgers.
Picking out issues like a strategy consulting firm or accounting audit team would.
‘But without allies, it’s impossible…. Uncle’s lackeys would stonewall cooperation to the death.’
Even before the regression, when I was a figurehead chairman, it was the same.
Whenever I brought “reform plans,” Han Hwa-gi used his people to deliberately delay operations.
Just to check me.
‘If that happens again, three months goes poof instantly.’
No direct subordinates, just a hollow Strategy Director title. Perfect recipe for withering away.
In the end, my solution was to gather evidence of the rot on-site and expose it all at the group headquarters meeting. Internal ledgers could come later.
“Alright, we’re here. Get down, Nguyen.”
And now, after days of hard labor, I’d reached the heart of Ammunition Group’s marine plant industry’s chronic disease.
-Screeech!
A massive crane clawed at rusty scrap metal, loading it haphazardly onto a truck.
Before the regression, this was the scrap disposal kickback scandal that had rocked the Ammunition Group.
The company was supposed to receive payment for the scrap from waste handler KS Industries. Instead, they’d paid out hundreds of billions in “collection fees.”
‘Later revealed as… Uncle’s main slush fund pipeline.’
Sweating buckets while working, I intermittently filmed the process with a small camcorder.
KS Industries—supposedly a subcontractor—issuing orders from a position of power,
-Hey… you! Why’re Ammunition’s guys working like turtles? Hurry up and load it!
The Ammunition Heavy Industries site manager bowing at a right angle to the KS Industries rep,
-Haha… take good care of this. We made bank on the last one. Next week’s copper pipes—good rates there.
And during the quantity check, I captured the numbers on the official documents with the camcorder.
-Waste List: Scrap metal 250 tons, 90 million won.
“Damn… 250 tons of scrap should’ve netted 1.2 billion won, but they’re paying them 90 million for ‘disposal’? These bastards….”
“Nguyen! Quiet down, kid. If HQ bigwigs hear this, it’ll be hell.”
Hearing my mutter, the foreman uncle flinched and clapped a hand over my mouth—his grimy, oil-stained work glove, of all things.
“Blech.”
“Blech my ass. I’m saying this for your sake—if this leaks outside, you’re done. Even the site manager’s in on it.”
The foreman uncle seemed genuinely worried I’d lose my job.
This kind-hearted bald guy lit a cigarette and scolded me.
“Screw up, and your visa’s toast—you’ll be an illegal. That’s why they use foreigners for side gigs.”
“Don’t worry, Foreman Uncle. Visa or no, I don’t care. I’m strong guy.”
“What kinda guts is this… Anyway, I warned you. Here’s ten thousand—go grab coffee and bread.”
* * * *
I never came back from buying bread.
I kept the daily laborer ID around my neck and headed straight for the site office.
In my hand, I flashed a business card utterly different from the ID I’d been using: Ammunition Group Headquarters Strategy Director.
“Hey! Old man, you can’t come in here. Ugh… you reek!”
A sharp-tongued accounting clerk pinched her nose and waved me off irritably. Come to think of it, she’d been there earlier handing off the scrap to KS Industries. An accomplice, basically.
“Dunno if I stink, but get the site manager out here.”
My business card drew closer to the clerk’s eyes.
Was she getting an instant eye correction surgery?
Her beady eyes widened to saucer size in real time.
“Real… Strategy Director? Executive Director Han Seo-jun?”
“What! Park, clerk—what’s with the racket? And who’s this laborer punk!”
Right on cue, the potbellied site manager appeared. Waddling like he was proud of his Everest-sized gut, he snatched my badge.
“Nguyen Seo Chun? Some Southeast Asian foreigner? Hey, you—know where you are? Get lost now!”
“Manager, sir. That guy’s not Nguyen….”
“Park, what’re you on about? This punk’s got some crappy card in his hand… Uh, uh….”
Frozen like he’d been hit by a freezing ray, the site manager. In that instant, alarm bells blared in his 20-year-veteran head.
“Strategy Director… Han, Han Seo-jun!”
“Before coming here, I contacted the group Audit Team, you know?”
A total bluff. No way I’d tip off the Audit Team run by Uncle’s lackey.
But to the site manager, who looked ready to piss himself, “Audit Team” hit like a truck.
He couldn’t even meet my eyes anymore, just stared at the floor, potbelly and all. I growled low at him, like a predator menacing prey.
“So bring the transaction ledgers with KS Industries. Before I strip you down to your underwear.”
“Strategy Director, sir… I did it alone, so please, just this once, show mercy….”
“Bullshit.”
The site manager, volunteering for ritual suicide. Figured his higher-ups would cover for him.
“I’ll say it once, so listen up.”
Drawing from experience, I gave the potbellied site manager some “advice.”
“Taking the fall solo and rotting in prison? Way shittier than you think. For real.”