Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Baghdad Declaration (4)
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The weather was overcast.
A downpour of autumn rain poured through gaps in the dark clouds. Raindrops carried by the chill wind mercilessly lashed against the windows of the high-rise building.
Beyond the rain-streaked glass, one man—Han Hwa-gi—silently watched the streams of water trickling down.
Was it because of his temperament, as gloomy as the weather?
Today, not even a single ant stirred in the corridor on the 45th floor of Ammunition Group headquarters.
-Ammunition Group's new chairman, Han Seo-jun, announced a high-intensity reform plan at 3 p.m. local time today at a port in Iraq.
The announcer's voice played over the steady patter of raindrops that sounded like they could shatter the window at any moment.
The TV screen flickered with static, and then the excited voice of a field reporter followed.
-Han Seo-jun, the chairman of Ammunition Group, personally operated a clamshell excavator to crush all the defective materials. He's even rolling over the scattered debris with the heavy equipment's continuous tracks.
-[Ammunition Group Chairman Han Seo-jun] With trash parts like these, all you can make is trash products! Isn't that right?
The tough on-site inspection continued.
The screen showed him leading executives and exposing problems in the Iraq seawater desalination plant project.
Followed by an interview about conducting a rigorous internal audit.
-[Ammunition Group Chairman Han Seo-jun] If you grill them and fry them, and they still think it's not right? Then I'm willing to sell off that business division immediately.
"That vile concubine's spawn! How dare that sneaky bastard pull such a despicable stunt...!"
Crash! A fierce shattering sound, and the glass vase exploded into dozens of shards.
The flowers it held scattered across the floor.
At the same time, piles of documents littered messily across the desk. They detailed the interests that Han Hwa-gi had been supposed to hand over to [Shanghai Capital].
Now scattered amid the glass shards, they had lost all meaning.
"Ah, Father! We've been had! We need to come up with a plan right now! Time... there's no time!"
Han Seo-ho's face was pale as a ghost, bluish with terror. He must have heard about what happened in Iraq.
In his haste, he had barged into Han Hwa-gi's office without even the courtesy of a knock.
Approaching ruin. Gripped by fear, Han Seo-ho continued almost in tears.
"In this situation, we can't hand over the defense tech or overseas resource rights to [Shanghai Capital]! The audit team will snatch it up in an instant!"
"You pathetic fool! I know that, so shut your mouth! Stop your useless hysterics!"
Unlike usual, Han Hwa-gi snapped sharply and irritably at his own son.
He gripped his fists so tightly that his nails must have dug into his palms.
Blood beaded on both hands, hatred and fear mingling together.
"Father..."
"We just tell [Shanghai Capital] the schedule's delayed. They've sunk too deep into the affiliate separation deal—they won't pull out easily!"
Han Hwa-gi glared at his son with bloodshot eyes.
Over the past few days, his eldest son had seemed unusually anxious, unlike before.
Unsure of the exact reason, Han Hwa-gi didn't like it and seemed intent on reining him in now.
-Thud!
With a cold, indifferent expression, Han Hwa-gi tossed his cellphone to his son, growling lowly.
"You handle it, Seo-ho. At least notify [Shanghai Capital], even if negotiating is too much!"
"M-me... you mean me?"
"Yes! Show me how you differ from your brother, rotting away in the Nigerian jungle!"
At the mention of Han Seo-hu, exiled to the Nigerian jungle, Han Seo-ho's eyes widened in shock.
A shift in the successor selection.
As the eldest son, this was what he cared about most sensitively, so with trembling hands, he reluctantly picked up the phone.
Han Hwa-gi frowned, displeased by his son's demeanor. Unable to contain his rising anger, he pressed the intercom bell to his secretarial pool and raised his voice.
"Why hasn't that idiot Yoo Ji-won shown up yet! Tell that lazy pig to get his ass in here now!"
"H-headquarters Director. Audit Team Leader Yoo Ji-won is out of contact!"
The mechanical tone mixed with a metallic edge came from the speaker. Even the staff in the finance headquarters director's secretarial pool seemed thrown off by the situation.
"His phone's been off since last night, and he hasn't even come in today! We're just now looking into it!"
"...What?"
For a moment, it was as if he'd been doused with ice water—Han Hwa-gi froze in place.
His instincts, honed from life as a chaebol heir, screamed that this wasn't just a bunch of coincidences piling up.
His nephew Han Seo-jun's sudden aggressive moves.
His right-hand man Yoo Ji-won's unprecedented disappearance.
"No way...?"
It felt like a hammer blow to the head, dazed. That soon turned into extreme foreboding, crawling up Han Hwa-gi's spine.
He bit his lower lip, muttering to himself for a while. He snapped back to reality only when he heard a voice from the TV on one wall of the office.
-Ammunition Group's new chairman, Han Seo-jun, has left a truly powerful impression.
-Indeed. Unlike typical chaebol leaders, Chairman Han Seo-jun has been quite friendly toward the press. He's announcing quite a lot through the press conference.
-Yes. It looks like it's just starting now. We'll connect to the live feed.
* * * *
Backstage at the impromptu press conference hall, the waiting room.
I was wetting my throat with water in preparation for the upcoming announcement when the door opened, and an excited voice reached my ears.
As always, half frivolous, half cheerful—the voice of a middle-aged man.
"Man, Chairman. The reporters out there are over the moon. They're all thrilled like crazy, twisting their limbs in joy."
"Why would those folks twist their arms and legs?"
"Hey, the guy who twisted rebar and metal pipes with a fork excavator. They could just let it slide, right? Gotta infringe on freedom of expression like that?"
Deploying his usual incomprehensible logic, Uncle Kim Won-cheol seemed to find the unfolding situation quite amusing.
Looking even more beaming than usual, he plopped down on the opposite sofa and snatched the speech I'd prepared.
"You gonna read from that?"
"What, read from a script? It's all in my head."
"Fair enough. You designed it all anyway—no need for scraps of paper. Anyway, sounds like the outer session's wrapping up."
Uncle Kim Won-cheol thumbed toward the door. The sporadic metallic sounds suggested they were using mics.
Practical details on the Iraq seawater desalination plant. Handling the Q&A at the impromptu press conference was President Seong Won-sik—no, now the head of the organization reform task force, Headquarters Director Seong Won-sik.
"You think he'll do well? Headquarters Director Seong."
"Organization reform? Slap a leash on him and let him be—he'll handle it fine. The guy's greedy as hell, but his execution skills are top-notch in the industry."
"Same here."
I nodded.
Headquarters Director Seong was capable. In operations and political judgment alike.
With the leash already in my hands, now that the master was clear, he'd read my intentions and act accordingly.
I picked up the water bottle on the table and drained the rest.
"Alright, then. Time to slot in the last piece of the puzzle."
* * * *
Impromptu press conference hall.
A prefab building erected in a barren desert right by the seaside. Barely equipped with air conditioning and on the verge of collapse, but the reporters' enthusiasm burned hot.
"Wow, sunbae. This isn't just some piddly article—could run it as a full-blown series."
"If we nail the headline, yeah. 'Young Blood Infusion! The Young Leader Steering Ammunition Group!' Something like that."
Economic newspaper reporters chatting side by side.
They gazed at Seong Won-sik, the organization reform TF head, who had just stepped down from the podium.
"Seong Won-sik switched lines and look at him now—climbed the ladder."
"Everyone charts their own path. Anyway, what's Han Seo-jun gonna say next?"
Blame the crappy AC?
The junior reporter readjusted his sweat-slipped glasses and glanced at the press release.
"Let's see. Something about... group affiliate separation announcement. Not sure if he'll actually say it. Could be more excavator action."
"Nah, it's indoors—probably not. Hey, headquarters is in chaos right now. Check this."
The senior reporter shoved over his laptop.
The screen showed a freshly approved financial news story from the desk.
<Cocoa>. The mysterious investment firm that raked in massive profits in the derivatives market recently.
"<Cocoa>? Weren't these the guys who feasted on derivatives during the financial crisis not long ago? Hit it big again?"
"Just cleared over a trillion won. Problem is... word is Ammunition Securities is stuck footing the bill."
Ammunition Securities.
<Cocoa>.
Hearing the two names in succession, the junior reporter spun his fountain pen habitually over his finger.
Whirr, it spun, then clattered onto the desk—only then did his mouth open.
"Sunbae, my reporter instincts are going nuts. You feeling it too?"
"Sigh... damn. Me too, maybe. Anyway."
Scratching the back of his head in confusion, the senior pointed to the front podium with his other hand.
A man in a suit ascending the steps briskly.
"...Let's hear what he says first, then decide."
Where had the unhinged figure from just one or two hours ago gone?
Unlike the wild man who'd driven the clamshell excavator without mercy, he now stood before them in a refined suit.
"Nice to see you all. Reporters from the press. I'm Ammunition Group Chairman Han Seo-jun."
Camera flashes erupted here and there. Some reporters already raised hands.
Ignoring it all, Ammunition Group's young leader continued.
"I was going to talk about affiliate separation, but first—have you heard the news? Ammunition Securities is about to go under."
"Chairman! Does that mean Ammunition Group's financial affiliates can't avoid separation now?"
An impatient question from someone. Clear breach of protocol, but a smile curved his lips instead—as if welcoming it.
The smile of a victor.
"In normal cases, yes. But ours isn't normal. If anything, it's like heaven's on our side."
As his words ended, something appeared on the beam projector screen.
The reporters' murmurs grew louder.
Hands that had shot up now returned to keyboards.
"Sunbae... that means...!"
"Quiet, no time to talk! Fire off the breaking news!"
The screen showed two company logos.
Ammunition Group's red flame logo. And... <Cocoa>'s yellow fruit logo.
"The truth is, <Cocoa> is mine. And soon... Ammunition Group's financial affiliates will be too."