Mutual Leashes
"I'll buy shares in Sunjin Sangsa and become your reliable ally. Long-term, of course."
A stake in Sunjin Sangsa, hmm. Not a bad offer.
A management dispute ultimately came down to a fight over voting rights. Even if Kim Jong-soo held just 3%, that was one vote at the table. Add his financial firepower, and we'd have the stamina to endure a prolonged war of attrition.
"May I ask something more specific?"
"About what?"
"Even 3% of Sunjin Sangsa would cost hundreds of billions of won. Are you factoring that in?"
I needed confirmation. Words spoken out loud and money actually handed over were two different matters. The corner of Kim Jong-soo's mouth lifted slightly.
"I've prepared myself for that much."
He meant it. I could feel it in his eyes.
The North Village King Ant was ready to stake hundreds of billions on a single savings bank — no, on gaining my support.
But an ally's promise was just words. It wasn't written on paper, nor notarized.
If the situation changed, it could vanish into thin air at any moment.
'I can't trust Kim Jong-soo.'
No — to be precise, I didn't trust people. The only things you could trust were aligned interests.
"Then I'll raise one point of my own."
Kim Jong-soo's eyebrows shifted almost imperceptibly.
"5% of Shinsung Savings Bank. And I'll be placing one of my own people on the board."
Silence settled over the room, and Kim Jong-soo's expression hardened. It must have been a demand he hadn't anticipated.
"...5%?"
"Yes."
"Why would you want shares in a savings bank?"
"I have no interest in management control."
I said it flatly.
"But promises only hold when both sides are tied together, don't they."
If I held shares in the bank, Kim Jong-soo couldn't casually renege on his word.
My person would be sitting on the board.
He would know that betraying me meant giving me a hand around his ankle.
Conversely, Kim Jong-soo buying Sunjin Sangsa shares might well have been his way of gripping my leash, too.
Mutual binding was what kept promises alive.
That kind of structural entanglement was far more reliable than mutual trust.
Kim Jong-soo's eyes sharpened. His expression said he'd understood the meaning of my words exactly.
"You think 5% is enough to tie me down? Hahaha."
Kim Jong-soo burst out laughing. It wasn't mockery. It was closer to admiration.
"5% is plenty."
I wanted nothing more.
With a large stake comes large responsibility. When the savings bank thrived, it wouldn't matter — but the moment trouble hit, the blade would swing toward the biggest shareholders first.
And I knew.
I knew what was going to happen to the savings bank industry.
'The savings bank crisis.'
Right now was the golden age.
They were raking in money hand over fist through real estate project finance loans. But that couldn't last forever.
The moment real estate turned, the savings banks that had hanged themselves on PF would all fall together.
Going deeper meant taking that wave head-on alongside them.
As a minority shareholder, I needed the freedom to bail out the instant I saw danger signs.
By that logic, 5% was a number I could walk away from without regret.
'Plus, having someone planted in the industry will make it easier to move later.'
What I truly wanted wasn't the shares — it was the board seat. I needed eyes that could see the bank's management status in real time.
How much of their loan book was tied up in PF. Whether there were signs of rot.
I needed to know those things.
"Who are you planning to put on the board?"
Kim Jong-soo asked.
"My chief of staff."
"You mean Director Jung? Does that young man know anything about finance?"
"He can learn. What I need isn't a finance expert — it's my own eyes and ears."
Jung Tae-sung was a sharp man. He could read numbers and sniff out anything that smelled off. That was enough.
"That's my call to make."
Kim Jong-soo stared at me for a long moment.
"Fair enough. Your call it is."
Kim Jong-soo nodded.
"You're more than capable of it."
Hearing praise from the North Village King Ant was no small thing — the old man had apparently come to acknowledge me now.
"This works well for us too. Having someone as sharp as you sitting on the board."
Kim Jong-soo rose from his seat, and I stood with him.
"Good. 5% and a board seat. I'll settle the details once the acquisition is done."
He extended his hand, and I took it.
The moment the deal was struck.
"One more thing."
Kim Jong-soo spoke without letting go of my hand.
"I'll be taking something in return as well."
I'd expected this. Kim Jong-soo was not a man who only gave.
That was how he'd climbed to where he was now.
"Name it."
"Your business ventures. Whenever you take on something big, you give me the chance to invest."
I almost laughed out loud. What a cunning old fox.
He'd hand over 5% and a board seat, but in exchange, he wanted in on my business. He was throwing my own logic — tie ourselves to each other — straight back at me.
At the same time, it was a statement of respect. Putting money into my business meant putting faith in my judgment.
"Understood. If a new venture comes up, I'll contact you."
There was no reason to refuse.
With Kim Jong-soo's capital flowing into my ventures, my options would only multiply.
"In that case, may I offer something of my own as well?"
Kim Jong-soo's eyebrows rose.
"More?"
"Consider it advice. If you acquire the savings bank, don't let your PF loan exposure exceed 30%."
Kim Jong-soo's expression shifted subtly.
"...30%?"
"Yes."
It was the same reason I was joining the board — to keep watch over that PF ratio.
"What's your reasoning?"
"The savings banks making money right now are making it thanks to PF."
I slowly released the handshake as I spoke.
"But how long will that last? Real estate doesn't only go up. And when it falls — as you well know — it doesn't stop until it hits bottom."
It was a warning, and it was sincere.
If Kim Jong-soo acquired the savings bank and went all-in on PF like everyone else, it was over. A few years down the line, the savings bank crisis would sweep in and take everything he had.
I didn't want that.
Kim Jong-soo had to survive — my own allies survived only if he did.
Kim Jong-soo studied me for a long while.
"How old are you again?"
"Twenty-three."
"Twenty-three."
He shook his head, a hollow laugh escaping him.
"I felt it when we first met, but you have the eyes of an old man."
Well — they were the eyes of a man who had died once and come back.
"...Understood."
Kim Jong-soo finally nodded.
"30%. I'll remember it."
* * *
"Danny Kim left for the United States today."
At Jung Tae-sung's report, Han Jae-yi asked, "You saw him off safely?"
"Yes. He asked me to relay his thanks to you, President."
Danny had wrapped up his vacation in Korea and returned home.
His task now was to establish a front in Wall Street that would execute Reborn Capital's American investments on his behalf.
"Coordinate closely with Danny and move the US investments forward."
I said, looking at Han Jae-yi.
"Love him or hate him, you're Reborn Capital's asset manager now."
Han Jae-yi's eyes went wide. It must have been unexpected.
She had been the one executing my investments — but she'd never held management authority over them.
"...Me?"
"Do you object?"
"No, it's just that—"
Han Jae-yi paused, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward ever so slightly.
These days, when the two of us were alone, she spoke to me casually — but with Jung Tae-sung present, she always switched to formal honorifics, every single time. Something must have stung her pride. Not that I minded. If she maintained that formality from now on, no one would find it strange later when the company grew even larger.
"Thank you."
"You've earned it by doing good work."
Han Jae-yi was someone I could genuinely trust with responsibility.
"Here are the documents you requested on Jung Sung Group."
Jung Tae-sung handed over a document envelope.
I opened it and pulled out the contents.
Jung Sung Group.
A mid-tier chaebol ranked around twentieth in the business world, with construction as its core business. Centered on Jung Sung Construction, the group had achieved full vertical integration spanning ready-mix concrete, development, and engineering.
Despite ranking around twentieth in the broader business landscape, they were a construction powerhouse that placed within the top three in contract volume, having grown explosively during the construction boom of the 2000s.
Aggressive expansion, a dangerously high debt ratio, and political connections to boot.
The textbook portrait of a construction chaebol.
'The chairman is Jung Min-woong.'
I looked at the face in the photo attached to the file. He was the man who had inherited the group after the founder's death and built it up.
"They've been struggling since the subprime crisis."
Jung Tae-sung said.
"Banks are tightening construction loans, so their credit lines have dried up. They have multiple projects in progress, but no money circulating."
Which was exactly why they needed a savings bank.
Since the banks wouldn't lend, they'd simply buy a financial institution outright. Their scheme to acquire a savings bank and pour money into their own group's PF projects was transparent as glass.
'And that's precisely the trap.'
A construction company buys a savings bank, dumps everything into its own PF, and then a few years later real estate turns — the savings bank explodes, and the construction company collapses with it.
In my previous life, companies had failed in exactly that manner, and in droves.
"The financial authorities are siding with Jung Sung Group."
Jung Tae-sung added.
"Their logic is that a major chaebol's capital injection will clean up the bad debt."
I closed the file.
I could understand the authorities' reasoning. They needed somewhere to offload insolvent savings banks, and a major conglomerate presumably had the capacity to shoulder the burden.
But it was the wrong judgment.
Jung Sung Group was already heavily leveraged. Once they acquired a savings bank, they would obviously go all-in on PF — and rather than dissolving the bad debt, they'd only compound it.
The authorities knew this and simply didn't care.
Erasing the insolvent banks from their list was the more urgent priority.
"What about Kim Jong-soo's side?"
Han Jae-yi asked.
"He's at a disadvantage."
Jung Tae-sung replied.
"Jung Sung Group is a major chaebol, while Chairman Kim Jong-soo is..."
He trailed off, but I didn't need him to finish.
Kim Jong-soo had started out in the private lending business, and no matter how much money he had, he was a man who'd made it in the shadows.
From the authorities' perspective, he wasn't exactly whom they wanted to hand a savings bank to.
"Who's the majority shareholder of Shinsung Savings Bank?"
I asked.
"Park Han-soo. Seventy-two years old, the founder of Shinsung Savings Bank."
Jung Tae-sung pulled out another set of documents.
"He started back in the nineties as a mutual credit union and converted to a savings bank in 2002. He originally ran it as a conservative, community-focused lender, but after 2005 the industry pressure got to him — he expanded his PF exposure, and the bad debt blew up."
The file listed no successor.
His son was a doctor, and his daughter lived in the United States.
No heir, his own age and health, plus pressure from the authorities — it looked like selling was the only option left.
"How does Chairman Park Han-soo view Jung Sung Group?"
"Difficult to confirm. However..."
Jung Tae-sung paused for a moment.
"It's the bank he's built his entire life. I doubt he wants to watch it become a construction company's ATM."
That was the one crack in the armor.
Park Han-soo's pride, and his distaste for Jung Sung Group.
If Kim Jong-soo could wedge himself into that gap...
'But that alone won't be enough.'
Even if Park Han-soo chose Kim Jong-soo, it meant nothing if the financial authorities withheld approval.
Jung Sung Group had political power. Kim Jong-soo had none. In a head-on fight, this was a battle we simply couldn't win.
"Director Jung."
I said, setting down the documents.
"Yes, President."
"Dig deeper on Chairman Park Han-soo. If necessary, pull from Director Choi's channels as well."
"Understood."
"And the same for Jung Sung Construction. Tabloid rumors, everything — gather every scrap of information. I'll do the filtering myself."
"Yes, sir."
After Jung Tae-sung answered, I hesitated for a moment.
Jung Sung Group, the financial authorities, political power — these were walls that neither Kim Jong-soo nor the current me could break through alone.
'In the end, we need help...'
I reached my conclusion and looked at Jung Tae-sung and Han Jae-yi.
"I think I have my answer. We need someone who can help us. It's time I paid a visit to Executive Director Kim."