The Face of the Consortium
The road led to Managing Director Kim Seok-jun's home in Seongbuk-dong.
Two days had passed since I met Kim Jong-soo. I'd reviewed the Jung Sung Group dossier, tracked the financial authorities' movements, and run the scenario through my head more times than I could count — and the conclusion was always the same.
I can't do this alone.
When I stood before the gate, the familiar scene came into view. I pressed the doorbell, and the door opened almost immediately.
"Come in, come in."
Kim Seok-jun had come out to greet me himself. Despite a full head of white hair, he stood ramrod straight and gave me a proper bow — it was hard to believe the man was past seventy.
"It's been a while, sir."
"Has it, now? Let me think — the last time was when you came to pay your respects after your army discharge... yes, that's quite a while ago."
It was a light jab. I answered with a smile and lowered my head.
"Well, come in and sit down. As it happens, a fine tea arrived as a gift, and I was just debating whether I should call you over."
I was shown into the living room and took my seat. A tea set already sat on the coffee table, as if he'd been preparing to brew. The moment Kim Seok-jun sat down, he began preparing the tea with practiced, unhurried hands.
"I hear the financial crisis has everyone struggling."
Before I could even raise the reason for my visit, he spoke first.
"How is Sunjin Group faring — your mother's side? I hear the automobile business is wobbling."
It sounded like an indirect question, but the nuance was clear: he already knew the answer.
"I've heard about the automobile side as well. Chairman Kang Tae-yong is reportedly reviewing a restructuring, and Chairman Kang Byung-chul's aluminum operations have swung into the red after the price collapse."
"Both of them bleeding, then."
Kim Seok-jun nodded.
"Sunjin Group itself is stable, thanks to the dollar assets we built up. But things still feel precarious, so they seem to be holding the line and keeping things as they are."
"Your mother has a quiet knack for management, I must say. The more I see, the more she astonishes me."
"That's thanks to your help, sir."
"What did I do? All I managed was to round up a few old folks in the back rooms and have them declare their support. Anyway — savor that tea. It's good stuff."
"Thank you."
"Now. Why are you here today?"
At Kim Seok-jun's words, I set down my cup and spoke.
"Sir, I've come to ask for your help."
"I thought so. Yours wasn't the face of a man stopping by just to say hello."
I got straight to the point.
"I've entered the bidding war for Shinsung Savings Bank."
The light in Kim Seok-jun's eyes changed.
I laid everything out — the competitive structure between Jung Sung Group and Kim Jong-soo, the position of the financial authorities, even the terms of my deal with Kim Jong-soo.
"So Kim Jong-soo buys up Sunjin Sangsa shares for you, and in exchange, you help him win the acquisition?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you receive five percent of the savings bank plus a seat on the board."
"Correct."
Kim Seok-jun fell into thought for a moment.
"A preliminary move, in case of a management rights dispute."
Typical Kim Seok-jun — he'd read the whole board in one pass. He saw that the Sunjin Sangsa shares Kim Jong-soo would buy would become a powerful ally to us, and even that the bank board seat would serve as a monitoring mechanism.
"And you have a strategy?"
"I do."
I began to explain.
"Jung Sung Construction's debt ratio is among the worst in the industry, and its reliance on project financing is severe. If they acquire a savings bank in this state, they'll obviously funnel the money into their own affiliates' PF loans."
"So they'd be expanding the bad debt, not resolving it."
"Exactly. If I turn that into public opinion, the authorities will feel the pressure during the approval process."
"So your plan is to have the authorities exclude Jung Sung Group from the running from the start?"
"That's right."
Kim Seok-jun listened in silence. He neither nodded nor objected — and that reaction bothered me more than any objection would have.
"Moving public opinion is a fine approach," Kim Seok-jun said slowly. "But you can't stop there."
It wasn't an unexpected remark, yet I couldn't guess what needed to be added.
"Knocking Jung Sung Group out — fine. Then who does the government hand the bank to?"
"To Chairman Kim Jong-soo—"
"A man who made his fortune in private lending?"
Kim Seok-jun's voice was calm, but the criticism cut sharp.
"The government doesn't make the right choice. It makes the choice it can explain."
It felt like taking a hit square in the chest.
I'd been so focused on pushing Jung Sung Group out that I'd overlooked the weakness on my own side.
"If Jung Sung Group acquires it, what do the authorities say? 'A top-20 conglomerate made the acquisition.' One sentence, done. Whether the National Assembly asks or the press asks, that answer holds."
He was right.
"But if Kim Jong-soo acquires it? The moment the story breaks that a private-money lender bought a savings bank, the official in charge loses his head. The press and the Assembly will tear into it from every direction."
In the end, it came down to justification.
I had fixated on the fact that Kim Jong-soo was legally clean. This was a man who had once cut Park Nam-gyu off without a moment's hesitation when the stock manipulator committed market fraud under his own name.
That's why I thought it would be fine.
But what the government watched wasn't legal defect — it was public sentiment. If a headline ran declaring that a curb-market moneylender had acquired a savings bank, it would be a problem no matter how spotless the legal footing.
Even if we shoved Jung Sung Group aside, without a defensible rationale for seating Kim Jong-soo in its place, the authorities would never stamp the approval.
Good thing I came to see him, then.
Kim Seok-jun knew the grammar of government. He had spent decades attending my grandfather while the old man dealt with officialdom — of course he did.
"You look like a man with a headache."
"Not at all. If anything, my head feels clearer."
"Oh? Then do you have an alternative?"
"I'm thinking we can't put Kim Jong-soo front and center."
At my words, Kim Seok-jun smiled and nodded.
"As ever, you take one word from me and understand ten."
Then he looked at me with a delighted expression — the look of a man telling me to keep talking.
"The answer has to be a consortium."
"Exactly. Keep Kim Jong-soo hidden, and swap in a clean face for the front — that's the only way."
A consortium meant a structure where several private investors pooled together for a joint acquisition. It was precisely the answer the situation demanded.
"Kim Jong-soo simply enters as one of the investors. He holds the largest stake, but it stays out of public view. Out front, we erect a clean nameplate."
The structure took shape in my mind.
To the authorities, an acquisition by a private investment consortium was an explainable outcome. Kim Jong-soo's name stayed buried, and public opinion was never touched.
"So the nameplate is the crux."
"It is. Someone who holds a smaller stake than Kim Jong-soo but can serve as the public face — clean, with some connection to finance, and a figure the government can look at without flinching."
I organized the criteria in my head.
An unblemished record, a career in the financial sector if possible, and a name that raised no hackles in official circles. Someone whose stake would be smaller than Kim Jong-soo's, but who could stand as the face of the consortium.
"I'm glad I came to see you, sir. My head is clearing up."
"Hahaha, you're giving me far too much credit for one remark — though I confess it does me good. As for channels into the government, I'll poke around myself and have Managing Director Jung pass word along."
He was offering to put his government network at my disposal. I bowed my head.
"Thank you. I'll work hard."
"I'm an SJ Holdings shareholder too, you know. You do well, I profit — so make it count."
Kim Seok-jun said it with a laugh, and I bowed once more.
At the same hour, in the chairman's office at Jung Sung Group headquarters.
"I'll report on our progress."
The head of the planning office spread his documents open.
Chairman Jung Min-woong sank deep into his chair and gestured for him to begin.
"We've held three rounds of informal contact with Park Han-soo's side, the largest shareholder of Shinsung Savings Bank. His intent to sell is certain. However, there's still a gap in the price negotiations."
"How big?"
"Park Han-soo is asking fifteen percent above the market valuation. I'd call it a pride premium."
Jung Hyun-il, seated beside them, spoke up.
"We can grind him down. The regulatory pressure only intensifies with time. He doesn't have the strength to hold out."
Jung Hyun-il was president of Jung Sung Construction and Jung Min-woong's eldest son. He'd taken the president's title before he'd even turned forty, and he showed not a trace of embarrassment about it. If anything, he approached the meeting as if it were his due. His father had placed him in the chair; all he had to do was live up to that expectation.
"There's no rush," Jung Min-woong said. "The authorities are clearing the path for us anyway. The price is bound to fall."
Acquiring a savings bank was no difficult matter. For Jung Min-woong, difficult meant fighting construction conglomerates tooth and nail for contracts — not scooping up a distressed savings bank. It was simply a channel he now needed because the commercial banks were tightening their lending.
"I agree completely."
The planning head dipped his head, then turned the page of his documents.
"However — we do have one competitor."
"A competitor?"
"A figure the industry calls the Bukchon King Ant. His real name is Kim Jong-soo."
Jung Min-woong's eyes narrowed.
"He came up through private lending, and he moves considerable assets in real estate and moneylending."
"Ah, every businessman in this country knows the Bukchon King Ant — no need to recite his résumé."
"Kim Jong-soo has been in contact with Shinsung since four years ago."
"Four years?"
Jung Hyun-il cut in.
"Persistent, isn't he."
"The sale fell through during the real estate boom, and this financial crisis has given him a second opening."
"And his capital?"
The planning head paused briefly.
"In the hundreds of billions of won. The exact scale is hard to pin down, but he's not someone we can dismiss."
"A moneylender with hundreds of billions?"
His son looked genuinely taken aback by Kim Jong-soo's resources — but the corners of Jung Min-woong's mouth curled upward.
"Kim Jong-soo? Of course he can move that kind of money. The man has hoarded and squeezed every won like a starving mongrel for decades."
"Is he really that formidable?"
At his son's question, Jung Min-woong laughed out loud.
"Hahaha, formidable? No. The man simply doesn't know his place."
The type who believed money could buy anything. It was the breed Jung Min-woong despised most. A man who had survived thirty years in the corporate world and a man who had churned money in the shadows were not in the same weight class.
"He's butting into this deal precisely because he doesn't know his place — thinks cash settles everything. Having money and being able to buy something are two different problems. You think the financial authorities will hand a savings bank license to a curb-market lender? One question at a National Assembly audit and the official in charge loses his head."
Jung Hyun-il nodded. His father wasn't wrong.
"Nothing to worry about," Jung Min-woong declared.
A brief silence settled over the room, and then Jung Hyun-il spoke.
"Father, we should set up the post-acquisition management structure in advance."
Jung Hyun-il understood one thing clearly: what his father wanted was not a son who merely did as he was told, but a son who prepared one step ahead.
"If we install our own man as CEO, the government won't look kindly on it. It would look like a construction company meddling directly in a savings bank's management."
"So?"
"We put up a nameplate. I've identified a candidate."
Jung Min-woong's eyes shifted.
"Yoon In-chul. Professor of economics at Sungmin University. He came up through a top-tier commercial bank and became the youngest executive deputy president in its history."
Jung Hyun-il pulled out the file himself and slid it across the desk. He had tracked down this candidate through his own channels, bypassing the planning office entirely.
"His record is spotless and his banking credentials are solid. Put him forward as CEO and the authorities have no grounds to object."
"You found him yourself?"
"Yes, sir. I've already sounded him out unofficially — he's not averse."
Jung Min-woong leafed through the file. A former bank executive deputy president turned university professor — an unimpeachable résumé. That his son had prepared this far on his own was unexpected. The usual move would have been to order the planning office to draw up a list; instead, Hyun-il had found the man and made contact himself.
Not bad. Plenty of rough edges remained, but this was how a man learned, one thing at a time.
"Not bad."
A short acknowledgment — but for Jung Hyun-il, it was enough. Hearing "not bad" from his father was never an easy thing.
"Finish the acquisition before year's end," Jung Min-woong said, closing the file. "Drag it out and variables creep in. Park Han-soo, Yoon In-chul — wrap them all up in one stroke."
"Understood."
Jung Hyun-il and the planning head bowed in unison.
As the two men filed out of the office, Jung Min-woong's voice followed them.
"One moneylender will not shake us."
At that, Jung Hyun-il turned back to face his father.
"Don't worry, Father. I'll see it through and lay the savings bank in your hands myself."
At his son's bold declaration, Jung Min-woong broke into a wide smile and nodded.
Once they'd exchanged their farewells and stepped out of the chairman's office, Jung Hyun-il pulled the planning head aside.
"Director Park."
"Yes, sir."
"I'll be handling this one personally, so why don't you sit this one out?"
"But... the chairman told us to see it through—"
"Ah, I already told him I'd take it on myself. So just keep a loose eye on things and report the situation up the chain. Understood?"
The planning head hesitated a moment, then bowed his head.
"Yes, sir. Understood."
"That's what I like about you, Director Park — you take direction beautifully. Keep up the good work."
Walking down the corridor, Jung Hyun-il fingered his tie.
This was a winning fight. He had no need to mobilize the planning office against a single moneylender.
And besides—
Sharing the credit is something only a fool does.
With his lips curling into a smirk, Jung Hyun-il quickened his stride.