The Axis of Industry Is Shifting
"Now then, shall we begin?"
Two weeks later. The Ribbon Capital office.
Once Kim Jong-soo's acquisition of Shinsung Savings Bank had been settled, I had briefly stepped away from the deal. My final exams were coming up. Now that those were over, it was time to get a full briefing from Jung Tae-sung on everything that had happened in the meantime.
"The acquisition has been finalized. 65 billion won, roughly 0.8 times book value."
Within my expected range. I'd pegged it somewhere between 60 and 70 billion, and it had landed just a hair above the midpoint — the trace of one last stand by Park Han-soo, most likely.
"You secured the condition that the name stays, I trust."
Jung Tae-sung looked up from the documents and met my eyes.
"……There were two conditions. That the Shinsung name be kept as-is, and that existing employees' employment be honored for three years. Chairman Kim Jong-soo accepted both readily."
Right up to the very end, it wasn't about money — it was the name and the people.
"Then we've made our payment for the five percent as well?"
"Yes. Managing Director Kim Seok-jun concluded the contract with Chairman Kim Jong-soo, and the 3.2 billion won for the five percent stake has been paid and processed."
3.2 billion won. Cheap as the price of a five percent stake and a single board seat. A savings bank operating in Seoul, even a mutual one, moves a considerable volume of money.
"How's the reaction since the announcement? The financial authorities' attitude should have shifted, assuming leaning on Professor Yoon In-chul did the trick."
"Precisely as you expected."
Jung Tae-sung produced a single clipped article.
"The response from unofficial channels was that this is a structure that's easy to explain, and the approval process is proceeding smoothly."
"If that's how the authorities see it, we're in good shape. And the media?"
"The media response is positive as well. The framing has been set as an attempt to normalize a troubled savings bank, and half the coverage is about Professor Yoon In-chul's résumé. Chairman Kim Jong-soo is mentioned only as an investor."
It was exactly what Managing Director Kim Seok-jun had always said: the government doesn't choose what's right — it chooses what it can explain.
Without the Yoon In-chul name plate, this deal would never have closed. A former loan shark acquiring a savings bank? One question at a National Assembly audit and the officer in charge would have lost his head. But with a former bank executive vice president turned professor sitting as CEO, pledging to restore public access to fair financial services, the story changed entirely. It became a picture officials could file without flinching.
Yoon In-chul at the front, Kim Jong-soo behind him, and behind that, a five percent stake in SJ Holdings nobody would even bother scrutinizing.
It was being read exactly as designed.
"Director Jung's seat on the board is confirmed, correct?"
"Yes. Yoon In-chul's designation as CEO has also been wrapped up."
I nodded and looked at Jung Tae-sung.
"Director Jung, your role on the board is exactly one thing: eyes and ears. I'm not asking you to interfere in resolutions — just observe the flow and report back. Whether CEO Yoon In-chul is steering things properly, and whether Chairman Kim Jong-soo is keeping his word."
Jung Tae-sung gave a short bow.
"Understood."
He wasn't the type who needed micromanaged instructions — give him a role explained at this level and he'd excel at it.
"How are things over at Jung Sung Construction? The hard part starts for them now."
"The prosecution has launched a full-scale investigation into the Goryeo Economic Daily matter. The structure of the case means that tracing the editorial desk's chain of command will inevitably lead up to Jung Sung Construction's senior leadership……"
"They'll be in chaos for a while."
"They'll likely be too busy looking after themselves."
Jung Sung Construction had exited this game completely — with neither the strength to return nor any justification for doing so.
"Thank you for your work."
"I merely delivered a report. It's you who've worked hardest, sir."
"Ah, don't I know it. I'd rather not get tangled up in this kind of head-bashing for a while."
Call it cursed luck — in my past life I'd been run ragged over M&A, and in this life I'd somehow ended up saddled with the same business again. That said, this project had been offense rather than defense, which made it a worthwhile experience.
"Still, stepping out into all of this recently has netted me something valuable."
Jung Tae-sung wore a curious look.
"Last time, with Sunjin Sangsa, it was defense. This time I dove headfirst into an acquisition battle. It was my first attempt, but experience accumulates — so next time, I'll do it better."
"There is nothing you fail at, sir."
"Only pleasant words lately. That's a problem."
"My apologies. I'll be caref—"
"No. The problem is mine — I'm in such a good mood I'm afraid I'll get used to it."
At that, Jung Tae-sung smiled, and I nodded back at him with a bright grin of my own.
"Welcome in."
The next day, at the Ribbon Capital office. I arrived early in the morning to find Han Jae-yi already there. These days she'd handed the US markets over to Danny, shaken off her day-and-night-reversed lifestyle, and taken charge of the domestic market herself.
"What's with the formalities? When it's just the two of us, talk comfortably. You're giving me chills."
When I hung my jacket on the rack and said it, Han Jae-yi shot me an exasperated sidelong glance before speaking up.
"So the exams are done? How'd they go?"
"Went well, all things considered."
"Figured as much. When you say it that casually, it's a given you're top of the department again."
Han Jae-yi took her seat and opened her laptop. The screen was dense with a spreadsheet — Ribbon Capital's portfolio status.
"Where are we, since I've been out?"
"Let's start with the won side."
Han Jae-yi turned the screen toward me.
"KOSPI plunged to 938 in October, remember. Foreigners were dumping and there was nobody left to absorb it, so it fell without finding a floor."
The Lehman Brothers collapse was leaving deep scars on the domestic market as well. Foreign investors were selling hundreds of billions of won a day, while retail buyers caught the knives on the other side and got buried. Sidecars triggered every few days, and news circulated that sobs could be heard from brokerage trading floors. The won had gone as light as scrap paper, and though the government churned out emergency measures, the market didn't even pretend to listen.
Fear was feeding on more fear, growing by the hour.
"I bought on the assumption that this is the bottom — mostly large caps. Export stocks that had fallen the hardest, like Taesan Electronics and Youngpo Steel. KOSPI's climbed back to around 1,100 now, so a few positions are already in profit territory."
I nodded. Picking up large caps in this zone was the safest bet available. The financial crisis hadn't changed the fundamentals of Korean companies. Once the fear cleared, they'd return to their proper place.
"What about the dollar side?"
"Mostly US markets. We entered when the S&P broke below 900, so the entry point is solid."
Han Jae-yi scrolled through the spreadsheet, showing me entry prices and current prices for each position. Her organization was immaculate.
"One thing I want to ask you."
She took her hands off the laptop and looked at me.
"The dollar position — we're keeping it in dollars, right?"
"Yes."
"Quantitative easing has started. The Fed announced it would buy 600 billion dollars' worth of MBS, and they've cut the base rate nearly to zero. When money's flooding in like that, shouldn't the dollar weaken?"
By the textbook, Han Jae-yi was right. When the money supply grows, a currency's value should fall. But the market wasn't moving by the textbook right now.
"Senior, what is quantitative easing, exactly?"
"It's when the central bank pumps money directly into the mark—"
"No — simpler than that. Just the essence."
Han Jae-yi paused to think.
"Turning debt into currency?"
"Exactly. So what are the world's financial institutions doing right now?"
Her eyes shifted. The answer had landed.
"Deleveraging. They're paying down debt."
"And what do they need to pay down debt?"
"Dollars."
When I nodded, Han Jae-yi continued.
"So even when the Fed releases dollars, they're being sucked back up faster than they're released — which is why there's nothing left circulating."
"One more thing. While fear hasn't lifted, money flees to safety."
"US Treasuries. Dollars."
"It's paradoxical — the epicenter of the crisis is America, but the shelter is America too. The country that issues the dollar is collapsing, and the whole world is hoarding dollars anyway."
Han Jae-yi slowly worked it through, and I could see her processing and arranging the logic.
"Then what about Korea?"
"Worse. The economy is heavily export-dependent, and foreign investors hold a huge share of the stock market. They sell Korean stocks to pull dollars back home. Sell Korea."
"So the won keeps sliding."
"The exchange rate already touched 1,500, and it could reach 1,600 by early next year."
Even with the Fed flooding the market, the dollar would hold its strength in the short term, and the won's weakness would linger. Converting dollars into won right now would be the worst possible timing. Of course, going by the memory of my past life, the moment was coming soon when Korea and the US would sign a currency swap and things would stabilize. I planned to convert what we needed into won before then, and keep the rest invested in the US.
"Hold the dollars. Don't move."
"Got it. That's how I'll play it."
Just as Han Jae-yi finished her report and was about to stand, I called out to her.
"Senior."
"Yeah?"
"Take this."
I pulled a small box out of my bag and handed it over. Her eyes went round.
"This is — an iPhone?"
The smartphone that had changed the world. It had launched in the US the previous year, but had yet to arrive in Korea. There had been exchange rate issues too — and the Korean carriers, guarding their data revenue, simply hadn't imported it.
"I hear everyone in the States is switching over to these already. I asked Danny to send us two."
I took the identical device out of my pocket and showed it to her. I'd been using mine since yesterday. The hardest part of coming back had been the absence of a smartphone — and while this early model had fewer features than the ones I'd known, it was still miles better than the feature phones of today.
"Can't you even use this in Korea, though?"
Even as she said it, she was unboxing the phone and holding it in her hands.
"It's been radio-certified. The paperwork's in the box — go to a store and ask them to register it, and they'll do it."
Since it hadn't been officially released domestically, it had required individual radio certification costing hundreds of thousands of won — tedious work that Jung Tae-sung had handled on my behalf.
"Amazing."
Han Jae-yi's eyes were sparkling. A far more alive expression than during the report.
Watching someone who moved hundreds of billions get this worked up over a single phone, a smile crept across my lips before I could stop it.
"Who knows when it'll even launch here…… Thank you."
"It's so you can adapt early. From here on, the world is going to revolve around smartphones."
I knew what this device was about to change. Telecommunications, media, retail, finance — every corner of daily life.
"Tell Danny I said thanks."
"I'm the one who paid for it. Why are you thanking Danny?"
Han Jae-yi laughed as she rose from her seat.
"You're always the one I'm thanking. The dealership's about to open. I'll check the market when I'm back."
"The market comes first, no?"
"Just for today."
With that, Han Jae-yi grabbed her bag and left the office, and I shook my head as if I couldn't rein her in.
Ziiing—
That night, barely out of the shower, my phone buzzed. I checked the screen to find a message brimming with giddiness.
"Aigoo, she's worse than a kid."
It was Han Jae-yi, having the time of her life with her new smartphone.
"Then again, when I first used a smartphone in this era, I was exactly the same."
In my past life, I remembered staying up all night marveling at every new feature.
"So this is how the world changes, piece by piece."
Quantitative easing would flood the market with an astronomical amount of money. That money would ultimately flow into corporate investment, and technology would leap forward.
"The axis of industry is about to shift."
Just as in my past life, the old industries would fall, and new ones would spring up one by one.
"But my place isn't over there."
Someone else would change the world, same as before. My task wasn't to compete with them — it was to ride their value chain. That was what I had resolved from the very beginning.
"Investing is in Han Jae-yi and Danny's capable hands…… So now it's time to grow Shinwha Weltech and Synapse."
Semiconductors would keep shrinking, and the demands on purity would only climb. Robots were no different. The precision work and volume of tasks facing manufacturing would only grow from here.
Which meant there would be more and more for robots to do.
I turned my head to look at the calendar.
"No time. I need to prepare, and fast."
With that, I picked up my phone and dialed a familiar number. The voice picked up before the ringtone had sounded three times.
"Director Jung, sorry for the late hour. I'm thinking of heading down to Ulsan tomorrow."