The Bank That Is a Son
"Mr. Choi, welcome back."
"Good to see you again, sir."
The Ribbon Capital office. Jung Tae-sung and Choi Sung-hoon sat side by side. Having the two of them summoned at the same time was a rare occurrence.
"You did give me the title of CEO, but since Director Jung here is still an Executive Director... how about you call me Head of Operations again, like the old days?"
Choi Sung-hoon said it with an awkward expression. These days he was leading SJ Security at the front lines — handling security for the factories in Ulsan, protecting key figures, and gathering the information I demanded.
"I'm afraid we can't do that. Your official title is CEO of SJ Security. If you get used to saying it now, you won't slip up in other settings."
I answered with a smile, then turned to Jung Tae-sung. "Shall we start with Director Jung, then?"
At my words, Jung Tae-sung spread open his documents.
"This is the current state of Shinsung Savings Bank. Total assets of 1.2 trillion won, with project finance lending making up 42 percent of the portfolio. Considering the industry average sits at 35 percent, that's high, and their BIS ratio is 6.8 percent — hanging by a thread above the regulatory floor."
Even looking at nothing but the numbers, the picture drew itself. It was a truck overloaded with PF cargo speeding down an icy road.
"The asset base is certainly large, befitting a capital-area savings bank. The problem is that most of it is project finance, and most of that is rotten."
Project financing was a lending structure that didn't look at the borrower's credit, but instead advanced huge sums against the future revenue of the development project itself. In other words, once an apartment complex went up and sales began, the loan was supposed to be repaid from the proceeds. But after the financial crisis the world knew as the Lehman Brothers collapse, Korea's construction industry had shriveled up and new apartment construction had stalled — which meant the loans that had been extended were now collapsing.
"The Financial Supervisory Service is circulating its internal first list of insolvent savings banks. Shinsung is on it. The deadline for a voluntary sale recommendation is the end of the year."
"And if they miss it?"
"They enter the formal designation process. Removal of management control, asset freezes, and in the worst case, a suspension of business operations."
From Park Han-soo's perspective, the knife was already at his throat.
"And Park Han-soo didn't refuse to sell from the very beginning."
Jung Tae-sung turned a page.
"The bank was already on the market back in 2004. The stated reason was the absence of a successor. His son runs a hospital in Bundang, and his daughter lives in the United States. Neither has any interest in the savings bank."
That was exactly when I had told Kim Jong-soo, the King Ant of Bukchon, to keep an eye on Shinsung Savings Bank. In my previous life, I remembered Shinsung actually being sold around that time... It seemed the future had shifted with Kim Jong-soo added to the equation.
"2004 — that would be when Chairman Kim Jong-soo made contact."
"Correct. The negotiation went as far as pricing before falling apart in early 2005."
"Because of the real estate."
Jung Tae-sung nodded.
"Precisely. As PF lending surged, Shinsung's asset base doubled in two years. There was no longer any reason to sell a growing bank."
"What about movement on the government side?"
"There's circumstantial evidence of informal contact between the Jung Sung Group and the vice-ministerial line at the Ministry of Strategy and Finance. Their argument appears to be that an acquisition by a major conglomerate could resolve the insolvency through capital injection."
The picture I had anticipated. The bureaucracy wants a clean answer. With a single line — a top-20 conglomerate has acquired the bank — the explanation ends there.
"Is that all for your report, Director Jung?"
"Yes."
I nodded and turned to Choi Sung-hoon.
"I'll report on Chairman Park Han-soo."
This was why I kept two information lines. Jung Tae-sung was clean, and he understood both the government and the business establishment. But when it came to intelligence from the street, no one could touch Choi Sung-hoon.
"In the industry, he's known as a stubborn man. The type who, once he says no, means no until the end. There's talk that when Chairman Kim Jong-soo's people made contact in 2004, the deal didn't fall through on the terms alone."
"What do you mean?"
"Word is that one of Kim Jong-soo's staff used informal speech with him at the negotiating table. I couldn't confirm the details, but apparently Park Han-soo refused to take calls from that side ever after."
It meant he was a man sensitive to face. For a founding owner, courtesy would have been a matter that preceded any negotiation terms.
"The reason he took the sale off the table in 2005 also comes across a little differently."
Choi Sung-hoon flipped through his notebook.
"It wasn't simply that the money was too good to walk away from. He told a close confidant this: I'll build a trillion-won bank with my own hands. With no successor, he seems to have clung to it all the harder. The bank is his estate in place of children."
To Park Han-soo, Shinsung was not a business. It was a child.
He was the parent who had raised that child, then given in to greed and hurt it. If I could imagine that feeling at all...
"They say he's grown quite gaunt these days. He plays it composed in front of his employees, but among those close to him, word is going around that he's been saying, My greed did this."
He was blaming himself. He was a man who regretted diving into project finance — but that regret was unlikely to curdle into the resignation of handing the consequences off to just anyone.
If anything, it would be the opposite.
"And one more thing."
Choi Sung-hoon lowered his voice.
"It came out over drinks, so I can't say how serious it was — but he reportedly said that rather than turn his bank into a cash line for construction companies, he'd shut the doors first. He didn't name Jung Sung Construction, but in context, it reads as a remark aimed squarely at them."
The corner of my mouth curled up.
"Lastly, there's a rumor that the Jung Sung side has put forward a figurehead. We've only confirmed so far that he's a professor with a banking background. Still working on the name. Should we dig further?"
"Dig."
At my instruction, Choi Sung-hoon took a note.
"Park Han-soo knows he's the one who wrecked his own bank."
I spoke slowly, facing the two of them.
"He knows that touching project finance was a mistake. Which is exactly what will make him difficult. He'll want to sell to someone who can clean up his mistake for him. To someone who can make Shinsung healthy again."
Jung Tae-sung nodded.
"And what happens if Jung Sung Construction buys it?"
It was a question that needed no asking.
"All-in on PF. They'd magnify Park Han-soo's mistake tenfold."
I paused for a beat, looking between the two men.
"Park Han-soo knows that too."
The essence of this fight wasn't the regulators. For all I knew, if Park Han-soo didn't like the buyer, he was prepared to dig in with the attitude of let the authorities designate us insolvent if they dare.
"Mr. Choi, get me a full profile on Jung Sung's figurehead, and quickly. At the same time, we need a candidate of our own to put forward."
"Understood. I'll compile a full list of names."
"Director Jung, draw up the list of investors to bring into the consortium, and check on the progress of Managing Director Kim Seok-jun's channels with the authorities as well."
"Yes, sir."
The two men rose from their seats and left the office, and Han Jae-yi came over.
"So? Can you see the picture yet?"
I shrugged.
"I can see it. But all I see is the how — not yet the who."
"So the only thing left is making our side look attractive, then?"
"That's right."
"I'm not worried at all. When it comes to reeling people in, Kang Seon-woo, you're a master of the craft."
When I met her eyes at that, Han Jae-yi shrugged back at me, mimicking my gesture.
"You have a talent for making people fall under your spell. So you'll pull this off too — that's all I'm saying."
"I'll take it as a compliment. By the way, the market's about to open, isn't it?"
At my words, Han Jae-yi looked at the clock, made a theatrical fuss, and hurried back to her seat. I smiled as I watched her go.
Shinsung Savings Bank headquarters, the chairman's office.
Thud—
Chairman Park Han-soo flung the document he'd been reading onto the desk.
"Hah... What could possibly be so urgent that they've sent the official notice twice now."
It was the sale recommendation from the Financial Supervisory Service. When the third one arrived, it would no longer be a recommendation. It would be an order.
He looked up at the frames hanging on the wall.
He had started with five employees. Back when all the business consisted of was lending money to the local merchants and collecting interest to lend out again. Forty years had passed. Now the bank was a capital-area savings bank with four branches and more than a hundred employees.
And now he had to hand all of it over to another man with his own hands. The thought squeezed the air out of his chest.
Knock, knock—
At the knock, the door opened and his secretary's face appeared.
"Chairman, President Jung Hyun-il of Jung Sung Construction is here."
"Show him in."
The man who walked through the door was younger than expected. A face that looked not yet forty, a suit that looked expensive — and shoes that looked even more expensive.
"How do you do? A pleasure to meet you for the first time. I'm Jung Hyun-il of Jung Sung Construction."
The hand extended for a handshake was soft, without a single callus. One could feel at a touch that these were hands that had never set foot on a job site.
"You've come a long way. Please, have a seat."
Once the two men were seated, the secretary brought in the tea.
"I'm not sure it will suit your taste."
"Thank you."
Despite the tea having been offered, Jung Hyun-il didn't so much as glance at the cup before speaking.
"Since we're both busy men, the Chairman and I, I'd like to get straight to the matter at hand."
And with that, he opened his briefcase at once.
Something curdled in Park Han-soo's stomach. Offering a guest tea meant, more than anything, let us talk slowly. Jung Hyun-il either failed to grasp the gesture — or understood it perfectly and disregarded it.
Either way, it was behavior that did not sit well with Park Han-soo.
"We've analyzed Shinsung Savings Bank's situation in our own way."
Jung Hyun-il spread out his materials. Total assets, BIS ratio, PF loan exposure, non-performing loan ratios — the figures poured out in a stream.
Not a single word was wrong, and the numbers were accurate.
And yet listening to it all, Park Han-soo's stomach burned. It was the bank he had raised — but hearing it from another man's mouth, it sounded like someone else's bank.
"You've come very well prepared."
"Naturally — wouldn't that be the bare minimum? After all, I may be the next owner of Shinsung."
Jung Hyun-il smiled. A smile oozing with confidence. Watching it, Park Han-soo thought to himself: this man believes he isn't the one on the lower rung.
"The owner, you say. But President Jung..."
Park Han-soo spoke slowly.
"Do you know what project finance actually is?"
"What kind of question is..."
Jung Hyun-il's expression stiffened, just barely.
"Project financing, yes. Lending secured by the future revenue of a real estate development..."
"Not the textbook answer."
Park Han-soo waved his hand.
"When PF blows up, do you know what goes flying first? Financial soundness? No. People go flying first. The loan officers get cut, then the branch managers, and only after that do the numbers start to move."
Jung Hyun-il didn't answer.
He had assumed he would be the one leading this conversation, after all.
Park Han-soo found that silence disagreeable. Object, ask questions — only then was it a conversation. Sitting there quietly didn't mean the man was organizing his thoughts; it meant he was swallowing his displeasure.
He doesn't like being lectured by a failed old man. Of course. That, I understand.
"Then after an acquisition, how does Jung Sung Construction intend to run Shinsung?"
"Management efficiency will be the top priority, with a plan to maximize synergy at the group level."
Hollow laughter rose in Park Han-soo despite himself. Management efficiency — said to the face of a man who had lived forty years in finance.
The flashier the packaging, the emptier the contents. That was the lesson all those years had taught him.
The young chaebol heir sitting before him had no intention of raising Shinsung. He was the type to squeeze out whatever he needed and toss the husk away.
"And the employees?"
"Restructuring will be unavoidable to some degree, but as much as..."
"As much as possible."
Park Han-soo seized on the tail of the sentence.
"The word that always follows 'as much as possible' is the knife, isn't it? President Jung, how many times do you suppose I've heard that speech before?"
For the first time, emotion crossed Jung Hyun-il's face. Irritation. The discomfort of a man who was not, in fact, the underdog being treated like one.
Park Han-soo thought: There it is. That's your true face.
Jung Hyun-il gazed at him in silence for a moment, then spoke.
"Sir, I'll be honest with you."
The tone of his voice had changed. The voice of a man who had decided to stop pretending at courtesy.
"Jung Sung Group — a major corporation — is reaching out its hand to Shinsung in the middle of a crisis."
"..."
"Deciding before the FSS designates you insolvent wouldn't be a bad outcome for you either, sir."
"It benefits me?"
"Doesn't it? Once the insolvent designation lands, you won't get even today's price. We're offering to accommodate you before that happens — and I've extended the courtesy of coming in person, haven't I?"
"..."
"Let me be clear. Settling this before the end of the year is good for you, sir, and good for your employees."
"...I'll consider it."
At Park Han-soo's reply, Jung Hyun-il rose from his seat. His face was flushed — the face of a man suppressing some fury deep inside.
"Next time it won't be me coming, but my staff. Thank you for the excellent lesson on project financing today."
With that one parting shot, he strode out of the chairman's office.
Slam—
Even as the door crashed shut, Park Han-soo stared at the empty seat for a while before turning his head toward the wall.
A group photograph caught his eye.
"I have nothing left to say to you all, do I."
The company's group photo, taken at last year's year-end party. More than a hundred employees, all of them smiling.
"I'm exhausted."
Two days later, I was reading through the profiles Choi Sung-hoon had brought me.
"What do you think?"
"You must have worked hard — but not a single one of them is the right fit."
A sigh escaped me. Candidates with banking experience had weak ties to the bureaucracy; those with the right connections didn't understand finance. There was not one person anywhere who matched what Kim Seok-jun had called an explainable choice.
"Should we search again?"
"...Let's set our own candidates aside for now. Let's look at Jung Sung's figurehead."
As I said it, wiping my face, Choi Sung-hoon began his report.
"Yoon In-chul, fifty-eight. Professor of economics at Sungmin University. Formerly the youngest Executive Vice President in Hanil Bank's history — and he has university classmates in both the Ministry of Strategy and Finance and the Financial Supervisory Service."
"I imagine he's close with those classmates?"
"Absolutely. Word is they take family trips together on a regular basis."
On paper, there was nothing to fault.
"Jung Sung picked a fine one. It might even be a hint from the authorities themselves."
"One more thing on that — we've confirmed President Jung Hyun-il made direct contact with him, but there's been no contract or official announcement yet."
"So the recruitment isn't finalized?"
"Correct. They appear to still be in the contact stage. But there's an interesting part."
Choi Sung-hoon flipped through his notebook.
"Since last year, this man has been repeating the same message on broadcasts and in interviews. That savings banks' PF exposure is at dangerous levels, and that if it isn't reduced now, a chain of insolvencies is coming. The industry's response was that he was overstating it, that he was an academic who didn't know the field — but he never bent from his convictions."
"Interesting."
Soon, insolvent savings banks across the country would collapse like dominoes. Yoon In-chul had been reading exactly that out of the data.
"And he looks far more attractive than the men who came before him."
A recognized expert who had publicly warned of PF risk, joining our consortium? That was Kim Seok-jun's explainable choice, embodied. He had the connections in government, and he was a genuine finance professional on top of it.
"You said there's no contract with Jung Sung yet?"
"Right."
"Does this man know Jung Sung's true intentions?"
Choi Sung-hoon shook his head.
"I doubt it. If he knew, he wouldn't have taken the meeting. A man who went on television calling for PF exposure to be cut wouldn't take the hand of a construction company trying to build its own PF cash line."
"No — he knows, and he's deliberating anyway. He's no fool. It's possible he believes he can change Jung Sung Construction's mind. That he can keep them in check."
Of course, the odds were that this would prove a grave misjudgment. The corner of my mouth lifted. In that case, it was time to show Professor Yoon In-chul a dose of reality.
"Professor Yoon In-chul — I'll have to meet him myself."