The Eve of the Storm
Two months later, on a day in March.
The schoolyard, freshly emptied after the opening ceremony, buzzed with the raucous noise of students released for the day.
I stepped through the front gate, loosening my tie as I went.
Just beyond it, a familiar black sedan sat waiting with its hazard lights blinking.
Glancing around casually, I slid into the back seat as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"You're here, Director."
Jung Tae-sung greeted me through the rearview mirror from the driver's seat. He gave my uniform a long, deliberate look, then a faint smile touched his lips.
"It suits you."
I had been checking documents from my bag, and I looked up at him.
"So the Director does know how to joke."
"Ah, my apologies. If that offended you, I withdraw it."
"No, no. What I meant was that it's pleasant to hear, so feel free to do it more often. A little humor is the only thing that keeps the air breathable in a car this quiet."
I grinned and turned my eyes back to the paperwork. Jung Tae-sung's smile deepened just slightly.
"From now on, I'll wait for you after school and brief you during the drive."
"Please do. For the morning trips, I can't very well dismiss our regular driver — my mother would notice."
There was already a driver from the main household handling my commute. On the way home I could fob him off with excuses — stopping by the study room, meeting friends for a study session — but the ride to school left me no room to maneuver. It stung that I couldn't put that travel time to work, but for now there was nothing to be done about it.
"In any case — how are things moving on the Sunjin Aluminum front? Any anomalies?"
"None. I've been watching closely on your orders, Director, but so far they've been quiet. Nothing unusual to report."
I nodded. The calm before the storm. In my memory, Chairman Kang Byung-chul's first strike had come as summer drew near.
"Keep monitoring. Focus especially on Sunjin Sangsa stock."
"Sangsa stock... you say."
"Check whether any sudden accumulation starts — foreign or domestic, either one. The inheritance will be settled soon, and they're simply waiting for that paperwork to clear."
The Sunjin Sangsa shares my father had held were being divided among my mother, me, and my younger sister Seon-ah at the statutory ratios. Because the estate tax was so enormous, we were locked in a tug-of-war with the National Tax Service over payment in kind — settling with shares — and installment payment, which was what stretched out the timeline.
But it would be wrapped up soon enough. And the moment that seal was stamped, the hyenas would come running.
"Understood. I'll report immediately if anything changes."
"Then let's hear the report on Shinhwa Weltech."
Jung Tae-sung handed over the next file with practiced ease.
"As you instructed, we've begun expanding production lines to enter the chemicals market for automotive and heavy industry. We're building a second plant on the plot directly beside the Ulsan semiconductor chemicals facility, with completion targeted for the second half of the year."
"Projected construction cost?"
"Roughly 12 billion won, equipment included."
"Good. Set that amount aside from the stock profits and wire it to Shinhwa Weltech's corporate account."
"Yes, Director."
I checked the asset statement for SJ Holdings printed in the report. The moment I saw the number, the corners of my mouth lifted on their own.
Total Invested Assets: 89.5 billion KRW
"...Ha."
Seokyeong InfoComm had been crowned the flagship stock of the satellite DMB theme and was still climbing skyward, while PharmaBio, riding the wave of avian flu pandemic fears, had broken its all-time high day after day. On top of that, the spring yellow-dust season had set off CleanAir as well.
And the other positions I'd been running all along — those too.
Somewhere along the way, SJ Holdings' rolling money was barreling toward the 90 billion won mark.
So this is what they mean by money making money.
A seed fund of barely 1.5 billion won had swelled like a snowball, and now the snowball was an avalanche gathering into a mountain. The speed at which capital summoned more capital was terrifying.
"Liquidate all the stock positions."
"You want a full sell-off, Director?"
"Yes. We've eaten as much as these themes will give. Push our luck any further and we'll choke on it."
"Understood. I'll unwind through staggered selling so there's no market impact. Then the next investment target..."
I stared out the window and gave the order in a cold voice.
"Start accumulating 4.95 percent of Sunjin Sangsa stock."
"Four point nine five percent..."
Jung Tae-sung ran the numbers in his head.
"At the current market cap, that would run a little over 30 billion won."
It was time, at last, to build our defensive stake in Sunjin Sangsa. The moment a management dispute surfaced, the stock price would shoot through the roof — a foregone conclusion. The textbook play was to gather quietly while it was still cheap like now, while nobody was paying attention.
"To skirt the five percent disclosure rule, I take it."
"Precisely."
Once you held five percent or more of a listed company's shares, you were required to report your purpose and any changes to the Financial Supervisory Commission within five days and disclose it publicly. And the moment that happened, the whole world — the relatives above all — would know that SJ Holdings was quietly gathering shares.
It's not time yet.
The company technically belonged to Kim Seok-jun, and I had no intention of advertising my moves with a public filing when I didn't have to.
"Accumulate slowly, very quietly, in divided lots — nothing that moves the price. To anyone watching, it should look like nothing more than a swarm of retail ants buying in."
"Understood. I'll run it through professional traders and gather it without leaving a trace."
"I'll think over what to do with the remainder and get back to you. Hold it in cash for now."
"Yes, Director."
The briefing seemed to be wrapping up. I straightened the files and asked,
"Nothing else to report, then?"
"There is one matter I'd like to raise."
"Go ahead."
Jung Tae-sung spoke carefully, watching me through the rearview mirror.
"The workload of recent months has made additional staffing urgent."
"Staffing..."
He had a point. SJ Holdings was, in effect, a one-man show with Jung Tae-sung beating the drum and pounding the gong all by himself. Investments, legal affairs, tax matters — even my personal background investigations on top of it all. Ten bodies wouldn't have been enough.
"Do you have someone in mind?"
"A man named Choi Sung-hoon. General Manager rank."
"Who is he?"
"He used to work for Kim Jong-soo — the Bukchon King Ant. From what I've gathered recently, he's recently left the Bukchon operation."
I flinched.
"Is that so? So old Kim Jong-soo finally cut him loose."
"Yes. It seems he was held responsible for being one step behind the intelligence you — that is, that we possessed. The rules of that underworld are nothing if not merciless."
I nodded. A faint pang of guilt needled at a corner of my chest. Strictly speaking, the man had been branded incompetent and cast out because of my future knowledge.
"You're bringing him up because you want to recruit him, I take it?"
"Yes. When it comes to the raw physiology of the Myeongdong curb market, or underground information networks too shadowy for me to map, he's the best in the business. His abilities are beyond question."
What an irony. A man cast out because of me — coming to work under me.
But this was no time for sentiment. A capable intelligence operative was one of the assets I needed most, and there wasn't a single reason in the world not to pick him up.
"Very good. I'll leave that entirely to your discretion, Director."
"Thank you."
"Whatever it costs, bring him in. And if you need anyone else beyond him, hire them and report it after the fact. It's time we built ourselves a proper organization."
"Understood. I'll set it up properly."
"Then I'll rest a while. Wake me when we arrive."
I turned my head to gaze out the window. Over the Seoul cityscape flicking past, I could almost see the opening curtain of the war to come shimmering in the distance.
Summer...
There was so much to prepare before then. I closed my tired eyes.
A private club room on Namsan, with all of Seoul spread out below.
Two men sat facing each other inside: Kang Byung-chul, chairman of Sunjin Aluminum, and Kang Tae-yong, chairman of Sunjin Motors.
"The car business has been good to you lately, I hear."
Kang Byung-chul spoke first. Nearly seventy, he was still brisk and vigorous, and he carried on talking between bites of the meal.
"Yes. Perhaps thanks to China's booming economy, domestic demand has revived and people finally have the spare cash to trade up their cars. Export volumes are exceeding expectations as well."
Kang Tae-yong replied with an easy smile. In truth, Sunjin Motors was staring down the best results in its history.
"And how are you faring these days, Uncle? I hear the raw materials market is booming so hard that the aluminum side of things has been printing money."
Despite the pleasant remark, Kang Byung-chul's expression turned sour. He furrowed his brow and clicked his tongue.
"Not good at all."
Kang Tae-yong put on a puzzled look.
"Pardon? With China swallowing up raw materials like that, your export orders must be piling up. Aren't you in the position of having more product than you can sell?"
"What good is product piling up when there are no ships to carry it?"
"Ah..."
"No vessels to haul it to China, so the aluminum is rotting in my warehouses. Freight rates have shot through the sky, and even at those prices you can't find a slot. It's chaos."
At Kang Byung-chul's complaint, a smile crept across Kang Tae-yong's lips. He understood the old man's game at a glance — why else would he raise such a topic?
Sunjin Sangsa, the origin of the entire Sunjin Group. And the maritime logistics network it controlled. What Kang Byung-chul needed most right now was Sunjin Sangsa itself — ships to carry his aluminum.
"So you're all set, Uncle."
Kang Tae-yong asked in a voice pitched low. Kang Byung-chul chuckled and clamped a cigar between his teeth.
"You sly little bastard. You remind me of your father — Man-ho, my big brother."
Kang Man-ho, the founding patriarch of Sunjin Group. At the mention of his father's name, a complicated look crossed Kang Tae-yong's face — respect and inferiority complex tangled together.
Kang Byung-chul nodded.
"Yes, I'm ready. It took some time, but thank goodness the market cooperated. I quietly liquidated the shares and bonds I'd been holding in the other affiliates, and the war chest came in even fatter than I'd planned."
The cash was secured. All that remained was to pull the trigger.
Kang Byung-chul leaned forward.
"What about inside Sunjin Group? Your sister-in-law seems to be holding up rather well."
"Yes. My sister-in-law is... certainly not a woman without ability, I'll grant her that."
Kang Tae-yong nodded as if conceding what deserved to be conceded.
"The group's housecleaning appears finished, and I hear Sangsa has been aggressively scooping up China import-export volume lately, buying additional vessels. They've pushed the Sangsa share price up quite a bit because of it."
"She had that in her? I took her for a quiet one who'd just stand by her husband's side."
"That surprised me too, so I did some digging. Apparently she's got one clever devil attached to her side."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Someone in the working staff with a head for business, it seems. But really..."
Kang Tae-yong filled his glass and snorted.
"Salaried men like that will jump ship the moment the owner changes — don't trouble yourself. There's no loyalty that survives money, is there?"
Kang Byung-chul nodded in agreement. It didn't matter who had their hands on the controls. He intended to hijack the whole plane anyway.
"The Sangsa shares will pass through inheritance soon. That timing looks ideal for our opening move."
"I think so too. While they're buried in estate taxes, with the ownership carved into pieces — that's when they're most vulnerable."
Kang Byung-chul let a moment pass, then asked carefully.
"Still, we can't just scrape up stock from the market blindly. I need a justification."
"...Uncle, how does this sound?"
Kang Tae-yong leaned in and lowered his voice. Kang Byung-chul's eyes gleamed.
"You have a way?"
Kang Tae-yong curled the corners of his mouth upward and began, in a voice little more than a murmur.