Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: How to Scout Talent (4)
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The sound of paper flipping filled the empty chairman's office.
Late at night, with almost everyone except a select few having gone home.
A personnel file pulled from an iron cabinet on one man.
I reviewed every detail with far more care than usual.
"Senior Researcher Michel Foucault... 21 years in the industry, 10 of them with the Ammunition Group."
A pudgy white man in his forties, the picture of a typical mild-mannered engineer with horn-rimmed glasses.
But unlike his soft, harmless appearance, this man had more backbone than expected.
Earlier that day, propped up in his hospital bed, he had instantly outlined his vision for the future based on his past experiences.
'First... we need to drain the swamp in the military culture. Simplify the vertical hierarchy as much as possible.'
Blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin with a ruddy flush.
Unlike his typical Western looks, Michel Foucault had persuaded me in fluent Korean.
As if he'd been waiting for this moment, he boldly stated his convictions without hesitation.
'Form teams by project on the fly for flexible workforce management. One accounting firm in Korea was the first to introduce this kind of system...'
The shock hit me the moment I heard it.
It was exactly what I'd discussed with Uncle Kim Won-cheol before.
And as if sensing the opportunity, Senior Researcher Michel Foucault pressed on despite the strain.
Even with his slurred speech from the aftereffects of his injury, his words brimmed with certainty.
'Set up a pure management track for managers. Let those who stay in operations keep running in the field no matter their age...'
Silicon Valley-style organizational culture I'd only imagined in my head. Concepts no executive at Ammunition Electronics had ever brought up first.
Thud. The last page turned, and the black cover of the personnel record closed.
I leaned back in my chair, eyes shut, replaying everything.
And the conclusion from that review pointed in one direction only.
Toward innovation—to reform everything outdated.
* * * *
"Come with me."
"......!"
Three days later.
Back at the Future Business Division lab.
Senior Researcher Michel froze in place, tense from my sudden acceptance.
I gripped his hairy hand so hard it nearly made a sound.
"The insights you showed me, Senior Researcher Michel—I want to apply them across all of Ammunition Electronics. We can do it. Come with me."
"Ch-Chairman? It's... so sudden. I thought it would take much longer."
"Why? Didn't you say first that we should go beyond change to true innovation, Senior Researcher Michel?"
"......"
He looked lost in thought, wrinkles forming at his mouth as if debating what to say.
Seeing that, I didn't let go of his hand. I just held it firmly, meeting his downcast eyes steadily.
And it didn't take long for the answer from the man who dreamed of innovation.
"Honestly... I've been planning to pack my bags since that day. I never thought my ideas would fly in the Ammunition Group."
"Why... did you think that?"
"After discharge, I got a call from Ammunition Electronics HQ. They said don't even dream of making a fuss. If I didn't let it go quietly, my life would get messy."
After the ridiculous so-called 'Ammunition Training Corps' incident, my interim order to President Lee Taek-gyu was suspension and prevention of recurrence.
But not only was it ignored—there were attempts to cover it all up with threats and cajoling.
I furrowed my brow deeply, breathing heavily as I listened to Senior Researcher Michel continue.
"So... I thought this organization was hopeless. I was going to submit this today anyway."
A checkered heating pad draped haphazardly over his lab coat. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a white envelope.
"My resignation. Planned to send it up after work this afternoon."
"Whew... hand that over first, will you?"
I snatched it half by force. The white envelope crumpled in my tensed left hand.
"Let me say it again. Come with me."
"I talked big yesterday... but I have my limits. This incident made it clear. There's this wall inside Ammunition Electronics."
Just three days, but the phone barrage toward Senior Researcher Michel was like a loan shark's harassment.
The pressure was more vicious than imaginable.
Threats not just against him, but dragging in his family's residency status while they stayed in Korea.
Faced with organized bullying like that, he'd clearly had enough.
"I... don't have the skills for the organization's dirty infighting. I'm just a tech guy with big ideas."
"Then I'll fight the dirty mud for you."
"Ch-Chairman...?"
Rip. I tore the envelope and all.
White paper scraps fluttered down like snowflakes from above.
"I'll swing the blade."
A talented insight that matched my vision.
If thorns lay ahead for such a person, I had only one job.
Grab a big club and smash every jagged thorn flat.
"Just lop off the top brass's heads and beat the mid-level execs to a pulp, right?"
"Ch-Chairman..."
"Thoroughly crush them so they never think of resisting the waves of change again."
I extended my hand to Senior Researcher Michel again.
To the flustered man radiating anxiety, I spoke in a resolute, deep voice.
"I can wrangle the battered remnants. The blood will be on my hands... so just prove your abilities atop the pile of corpses."
* * * *
My reflection in the full-length mirror was absurdly over-the-top.
Me in a red-billed cap with a long brim.
Back in my service days, the sight of anyone wearing that ranger cap filled me with uncontrollable rage. Never dreamed I'd be the one wearing it.
Not in my wildest dreams.
"Whoa, so you're really doing this? In person? Crazy. Heh heh heh heh."
Uncle Kim Won-cheol crunched on potato chips, not bothering to hold back his laughter.
He even handed me an iron cot like it was showtime. I replied in a deflated tone, resigned.
"What can I do? I said I'd swing the club myself, so I have to keep my word."
My gaze dropped below my head.
The mirror showed me in a musty reserve uniform, camo fatigues complete with combat boots.
"President Lee Taek-gyu was easy—I can chop his head off the second Michel shows. But the execs below him are different."
"True. If a foreigner from one of their affiliates takes the top spot, they'll rebel no matter what."
Ammunition Electronics' Lee Taek-gyu faction, united solely by bootlicking.
Even without their head, without seizing the initiative, they'd obviously resist reform.
In the end, what I needed right now was pure clubbing. In the way they knew best.
"Alright. All set. Wanna join? A former special forces guy like you—let's get a real workout."
I tied my bootlaces tight, flopping casually on the floor and tossing out the invite.
He waved it off with a cackle.
"Heh heh heh. Am I crazy? Crawl back in there?"
"Figured as much. Anyway... I'll go suffer, so handle the rest."
Caked in camo cream for the first time in ages.
In the mirror, my blackened face had two round eyes gleaming fiercely from within.
And I picked up an oak club as thick as an adult's forearm.
Polished with varnish, gleaming under the light. I opened my mouth in a voice full of resolve.
"Now... it's time for the re-education of Ammunition Electronics' executives."
* * * *
-Beep! Beep beep beep!
"Run! Run! Run! Run! I said run! Run!"
Ammunition Talent Development Center main field.
The metal whistle pierced eardrums.
And relentless, bellowing roars like a demon's fury.
President Lee Taek-gyu's faction execs panted like dogs with lolling tongues, circling the grass endlessly.
"Ugh... ughhh... haah, ahh. Can't... can't run anymore."
"Ah, sunbae. Hang in there a bit, seriously. That guy... the new chairman. No way he's right in the head."
Up front, the young chairman charged ahead holding the Ammunition Group flag.
A military duffel slung over his shoulder bulged with defective products from Ammunition Electronics. Weight of a rice sack.
"The mental training you all love so much! The chairman himself will deliver! Any objections!"
"No... sir!"
President Lee Taek-gyu, sacked overnight for company abuses and brutality.
The headless execs thought complacently.
No matter who came as president, they couldn't oust the ones who controlled operations.
And after the storm passed, they'd stiffen right back up.
But now, they had more than necks to straighten.
"Legs at 45 degrees with heads up! There, Executive Director Song! Straighten those legs!"
"Kughhh...!"
PT 8. Full-body twists.
Grueling ranger calisthenics under steel helmets.
Unthinkable for seasoned execs—more punishment disguised as training. But they couldn't object.
Because this mad chairman was doing their favorite military drills right alongside.
As their raised legs trembled, the next order barked instantly.
"Posture straight! One—Ammunition! Two—reform! One!"
"Ammunition!"
"Two!"
"Re...form! Hngh!"
Execs rolling their eyes in exhaustion.
As every muscle screamed in agony, the mad chairman drew his oak club.
He propped up their drooping legs personally, then bellowed with earth-shaking force.
"Behold your new Ammunition Electronics president: Senior Researcher Michel Foucault of Future Business! Got it!"
"......!"
Lee Taek-gyu's crew squeezed their eyes shut—the inevitable had arrived.
They instantly grasped this mad—no, this calculated madness from the chairman, getting back exactly what they'd dished out.
The mood shifted. Eyes darted wildly.
But they had no choices left.
"What's this? No answer? Got it or not!"
The chairman roared like a beast.
His blackened camo face twisted with murderous intent.
Finally, as their boots hit dirt only to be lifted again by the oak club, the reluctant reply came.
"Got... it!"
The reform of Ammunition Electronics, the Ammunition Group's vital core and a global top player.
Its beginning—what enthusiasts would later recount—was forged with an oak club.