The Namdong Legend's Lifeline
Min-ho and Choi the lawyer pushed open the doors of Sangmyeong Bank. The deputy branch manager, who knew Choi well, hurried out and bowed deeply in greeting.
“Good afternoon, Lawyer.”
“It's been a while. How have you been?”
“Of course, thanks to JK, I'm doing great as always.”
“I'm here to see the branch manager.”
“We've already been informed. Right this way.”
Even though Chairman Kang had retired from the front lines years ago, his influence remained formidable. Not some ordinary teller, but the deputy branch manager himself was out here bowing and scraping. They walked down a long corridor until they reached the branch manager's office. The deputy opened the door and cautiously asked,
“Coffee alright with you, Lawyer?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“I'll get it ready right away.”
Min-ho turned to look at Gwak Hee-do. He sat there with his legs crossed arrogantly, just like any other branch manager, but his face betrayed a strange mix of anxiety and nervousness. Spotting Choi, he approached with an outstretched hand for a shake.
“Well, if it isn't our JK legal team's Jong-hoon, gracing Namdong with his presence.”
“Thank you for making time despite your busy schedule, sir.”
“Anyway, I've got to give you credit for your manners. Thanks? Hell, we owe you thanks—we eat and live thanks to JK.”
Gwak Hee-do's eyes landed on Min-ho as he bantered. “But who's this fresh face... Looks sharp.”
“Hello.”
“You can tell at a glance he's one of Jong-hoon's new lawyer pups learning the ropes. He's quiet, but he picks up the good stuff quick.”
The branch manager couldn't even imagine who Min-ho really was. Habitually shoving one hand in his pocket, he extended his right for a handshake. Knowing the truth about Gwak Hee-do, Min-ho smiled and gripped it firmly.
“No need to ask—you're obviously from legal. What's your name?”
“I'm not with the legal team.”
“Oh? Then show me a business card.”
“Don't have one. I'm Kang Min-ho, under Chairman Kang Jin-gwang.”
Taking it as a joke, Gwak Hee-do playfully slapped Min-ho's arm and let out a hearty laugh. “No wonder Jong-hoon keeps you around—you've got jokes, and I like your vibe already.”
“Thank you.”
“Legal's fine, but Chairman's office? That's secretary level—no slouches there. Anyway, everyone sit down and let's talk.”
Gwak the branch manager sipped his coffee and spoke up. “If we had more time, I'd treat you to a meal, but as you know, Jong-hoon, I'm swamped.”
“We're grateful just for your time.”
“Alright, cut the crap—what's this sudden visit about?”
Choi set his coffee cup down politely after a pause. “Senior... actually...”
“Don't beat around the bush like that—you'll turn rice into mush. Spit it out; it's fine.”
“The man next to me isn't a new hire.”
Tilting his head, he eyed Min-ho again, but nothing clicked. After pondering for a long moment, he spoke. “So, a lateral hire? Young, though—don't tell me you're senior to Jong-hoon?”
Min-ho knew exactly where this was going. No reason to hide it. With a relaxed smile, he replied,
“I'm Kang Jin-gwang's grandson, Kang Min-ho. I have something important to discuss.”
In Namdong, without Chairman Kang's backing, even a top-flying eagle like a bank branch manager was powerless. To him, Chairman Kang was no less than a god. So, of course he'd be shocked by the grandson's visit. Caught off guard, he stubbed out his cigarette in a hurry and flashed an awkward grin.
“Aigoo, you should've said so sooner—I'd have sent staff. Sorry for the rudeness on a first meeting.”
“No, it's fine. You're much my senior; don't worry about it.”
Gwak the branch manager had no clue what might come out of Min-ho's mouth next. He glanced sideways, probing, then ventured,
“So... Young Master, what do you need? I'll pull out every hair on my head to help if it's in my power.”
“You mean that?”
“Of course. I move hundreds of billions a month, looks or no. Anything I can do, just say.”
“Perfect. Then I've got a proposal.”
***
Gwak Hee-do, the branch manager. A man who'd shattered every record.
He was a living legend in the financial world. With his silver tongue and iron guts, he'd snagged a manager title in just two years after joining. His lightning-fast calculations and animal instincts made him a star in the credit division. He became the first in banking history to hit branch manager in five years.
Any normal person would've coasted there, but Gwak Hee-do's ambition knew no bounds. Through aggressive investments and customer grabs, every branch he took over claimed the national number-one spot year after year. He dove into government bonds, municipal bonds, special bonds, financial bonds, corporate bonds—no holds barred. They called him Korea's Bill Gross. That propelled him to Namdong, the heart of Sangmyeong Bank, Korea's top bank—and as its branch manager, no less. Wealth and fame, both in his grasp.
He had enough money to live lavishly forever, but sadly, he couldn't rein in his own greed. Like a man drinking seawater, he craved more money, bigger wins. He crossed the line he shouldn't have.
It started small. He borrowed client funds briefly for stocks. As always, it paid off. When heads keep coming up on coin flips forever, you forget tails exist. Needle thief became cow thief. From millions, he escalated to tens, hundreds of billions in client money for investments.
Luck didn't hold. His “last one” bet tanked endlessly. He poured in more, then more, but it only worsened. To top it off, client bond, savings, deposit maturities loomed monthly. Without plugging the holes, prison was certain.
Gnawing his nails, Gwak Hee-do lost his reason and made the worst choice: a gambling junket to the Philippines. Total wipeout. Now he owed hundreds of billions—unpayable. On the cliff's edge, everything he'd built would vanish. He played his final card: issuing forged CDs (Negotiable Certificates of Deposit) to cover it up.
Removing a bottom brick to patch the top wasn't ideal, but better than losing all. Gwak Hee-do was tightrope-walking with everything on the line. And Min-ho had gently nudged that rope.
“Feel free to drop the formalities, Branch Manager.”
Gwak managed an awkward smile. “Yeah? Alright then. That cool?”
“You're like an uncle. It's only right.”
“Knew you were sharp from the start. How's the Chairman—no, your grandpa? Doing well?”
“Yes, healthy and going strong. He mentions you sometimes.”
“Really? Honored just hearing that.”
“Said you're the legend who grabbed branch manager right after starting.”
Min-ho fueled the plane, and Gwak was ready to blast to the stars. “Aw, shucks—legend? I owe the Chairman big time; still grateful. Every time JK's on the news, it puts me in a good mood.”
“Thank you.”
“So, why'd you wanna see me, Min-ho? I'm dying of curiosity.”
Min-ho broke the stiff vibe with chat, then dropped the bombshell. “Truth is, I was hoping you could connect me to an investment—for a cut, maybe.”
Namdong teemed with brokers linking finance folks and investors, pocketing 1-2% commissions. Big for normals, peanuts to Min-ho. It made no sense he'd trek here for billions.
Choi couldn't buy it. Gwak lit a cigarette, crossing his legs to hide tension. “If you of all people are asking, it must be huge. Mind if I ask the amount?”
“Heard you can handle up to 200 billion. That true?”
“This is Korea's top bank—Namdong branch. We can swing that easy. But why the hesitation? How much we talking?”
JK Credit Info's reserves. Myeong-seon's investment habits and greed. Min-ho had the exact figure pegged. He spread ten fingers without pause.
Even as Chairman Kang's grandson, at his age, Gwak guessed under 10 billion. “10 billion? Easy. What's your cut?”
Big money, but not why Min-ho came. With a wry chuckle, “You think I'd come here for pocket change?”
“Did I underestimate you? 100 billion, then?”
“Yes. But sweeten the discount rate and interest. I'll take 100 billion off your hands clean.”
Absurd in normal times. 100 billion? Only a whale like Chairman Kang could swallow that at once. But these weren't normal times. Gwak needed funds desperately to patch maturities monthly. 100 billion bought months of breathing room.
Min-ho needed a reputable branch manager and investment for the trap on Myeong-seon. Gwak Hee-do fit perfectly. Equilibrium achieved.
Gwak suppressed a leaking grin. Min-ho's offer was a godsend rope from heaven. His face lit up. “As expected from the Chairman's grandson—guts for days!”
“Interest can't be stingy.”
“Naturally. For 100 bil, I'll pad the discount generous.”
“Specifics?”
“91-day paper, 5% discount; rate's 12.5% today, but for you, 15%. How's that?”
Min-ho recalled JK Credit Info's vaults. Myeong-seon couldn't refuse these terms. He nodded. “Perfect. I'll send someone soon. Handle it smooth.”
“You got it. But who?”
“You'll know when you see.”
“Tease. Anything else?”
“No. Thanks for your time.”
Rising, Gwak pressed his card into Min-ho's hand. “Call anytime. After this, call me uncle—let's grab soju.”
“Yes, Branch Manager. See you.”
“Take care.”
Out of the bank, Min-ho climbed back in the car, beaming innocently. Choi knew Min-ho's caliber, but 100 billion? Unthinkable. Rubbing his temples, he asked,
“Young master, I get the intent. But if President Kang Myeong-seon skips this CD, it's meaningless.”
“You think it's a stretch?”
“Honestly, yes. Not that I doubt you. Just... the amount could use tweaking.”
“No need. If she won't eat it served on a platter, she's got a big mouth—we find someone who will.”
“Who?”
Min-ho, in the back seat, skipped the answer and dialed. Rings, then a familiar voice. With a meaningful smile, he said,
“Director Seo Gwang-hun. Long time—let's meet.”