The Vault
***
The keyring in Butler Moon Sang-oh's hand from the Seongbuk-dong residence held no fewer than a hundred keys. Of course, none of them were labeled. Descending to the basement, he selected them with practiced ease, unlocking one massive steel door after another on his way to the vault.
After passing through ten doors, a gigantic vault straight out of the movies came into view. But that wasn't the end of it. He inserted the vault keys in sequence and turned them. Then he punched in a long, intricate password. A thunderous click echoed through the basement as the locks disengaged. Gripping the entrance handle with all his might, Moon turned it clockwise—exactly ten full rotations. The colossal door, which had seemed immovable, swung open.
Moon stepped inside the vault for the first time in ages. To the left lay towering stacks of cash; opposite them, gold bars reached all the way to the ceiling. It was a scene straight out of a Hollywood blockbuster. Moon showed no reaction, utterly unfazed—he was used to it. Truth be told, most people would have been slack-jawed in awe at this much wealth. But the real shock came next.
There were five such vaults beneath Seongbuk-dong. And this was just the liquid cash, excluding funds stashed overseas—no further explanation was needed to grasp how much money Chairman Kang truly commanded.
Scanning every corner with his razor-sharp eyes, Moon nodded to himself and stepped out. He traversed the long corridor and raised the shutter. Staff from the secretariat were waiting.
"Send all the vehicles inside and begin the operation."
"Yes, Executive Director."
Security was the lifeblood of fund transfers—nothing could afford to catch an outsider's eye. In the dead of night, when no one was around, fifteen vehicles filed into the shuttered space one by one. It was an operation of staggering scale, evoking a covert spy mission.
Once he'd visually confirmed the number of vehicles and personnel, Moon extended his hand. Deputy Manager Park swiftly handed over the attendance roster. Moon meticulously cross-checked every face against the list before speaking.
"You all know what happens if a word of this gets out, right?"
"Yes, Executive Director. We do."
"Consider it an honor to be part of this. What happens here today goes to the grave with you. I'll trust you this once."
Moon nodded. Deputy Manager Park pulled baskets from the trunks—prepared for the headcount—and spoke up.
"You heard the Executive Director loud and clear? Empty your pockets into these baskets. Everything."
The secretariat staff rummaged through their pockets, depositing their belongings into the baskets.
"Executive Director, all personal items have been surrendered."
These were people whose backgrounds—down to family and relatives—had been thoroughly vetted for this assignment. Still, Moon couldn't afford to let his guard down without a personal check.
He swept his piercing gaze over the staff standing at attention, then pointed to one man's back pocket.
"Hey, Ham Kwang-tae."
"Yes, Executive Director."
"You sure you've emptied everything?"
"Yes, sir. Nothing left."
"Stick your hand in your back pocket."
"Pardon?"
He hurriedly complied. A single thousand-won bill was tucked inside.
"And you were that confident nothing was there?"
"I'm sorry. It was so thin, I didn't notice."
"That can happen. I understand."
Moon paused, considering, then issued his next order.
"Everyone—strip down to your underwear. All of it."
"Yes, Executive Director."
It might seem excessive, but there was no choice. Even the most honest person, glimpsing the vault's contents just once, could lose all reason. They had to be made incapable of even thinking of touching it. That was Moon's duty.
And it didn't end there. Moon's meticulousness went beyond ordinary common sense. He handed Deputy Manager Park a box of pre-prepared tape.
"Tape every sleeve, pocket—every inch of their clothes."
"Understood."
The staff, now naked, taped up their garments and resumed standing at attention.
Moon addressed them.
"From here on, you'll work in the nude. Any complaints, you're free to leave. I promise—no repercussions at the company."
They'd been fully briefed on the precautions beforehand, so the secretariat staff were well aware.
"No complaints."
"Finish this clean, and you'll each get a five-hundred-million-won bonus. What you're carrying is just apples. The moment greed creeps in, you'll be dishonoring your parents. Get to work."
"Yes, sir. Beginning now."
It was a bizarre sight. In the Seongbuk-dong basement, twenty naked staffers set to their task. They extracted cash from the vault, packed it into apple crates, and sealed them with layers of tape. The boxes were then loaded methodically into vehicle trunks and back seats.
Each 20kg apple crate held two hundred fifty million won in old ten-thousand-won bills. The total prepared: fifty billion won. No easy feat.
The summer swelter had passed, but the basement's stuffy warmth lingered. Sweat poured off the workers like rain. Moon tossed them towels.
"Wipe down and keep going."
"Thank you, sir."
It wasn't for their comfort—it was to keep sweat from contaminating the cash.
The work pressed on without breaks. No one uttered a word unless absolutely necessary. No one dared slip away on a bathroom excuse, so no one drank a drop. The operation, started at 11 p.m., dragged until 6 a.m.
Moon oversaw every step. He personally shut the last trunk. The exhausted staff, drenched from the grueling labor in the humid basement, collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent. A few sighed in relief.
"Man, that was brutal."
"Gotta chug some water once we're out..."
Such a sight was anathema to Moon.
"Who told you to open your mouths and sit on the floor?!"
The staff scrambled up, clasping hands in front and bowing their heads.
"Sorry, sir."
"You know what they call the secretariat in the Group?"
"The... the Group's heart."
"And you—knowing that—sit down over something like this? You're the heartbeat of JK Group. You can't show fatigue, not even feel it outwardly. Got it?"
"Yes, Executive Director. Understood."
Deputy Manager Park, who'd been watching nervously, approached cautiously.
"Executive Director, shall we let them dress now?"
The work was done—more than enough—but Moon wasn't satisfied yet. Bills could be hidden anywhere on the body if one tried. He issued orders accounting for that too.
"Everyone—spread your legs, palms flat on the ground!"
It was meticulousness that made your jaw drop, chills running down your spine. Utterly humiliating. Yet the staff complied without a whimper. Endure this hour, and they'd pocket a year's salary in one go. The satisfaction of the money outweighed a moment's shame—they knew it well.
Having checked them from head to toe, Moon entered the vault to verify the remaining cash. All clear. He issued the next command.
"Dress them, send them to headquarters to stand by, and reconvene here at 5 p.m. Once more: nothing happened here."
***
After dismissing the staff, Moon reversed the process—locking the vault door, checking every steel barrier—before ascending to the first floor. The workers had done the heavy lifting, but he'd stayed put too, not even sipping water. The strain had left his eyes bloodshot.
Chairman Kang would still be asleep. Tiptoeing to the kitchen, Moon drank deeply, then cracked open the front door and stepped into the courtyard. He inhaled the fresh morning air, escaping the dank basement. He longed to collapse into bed, but the day was dawning—no time for that.
He moved to a corner of the yard and lit his one daily cigarette. Moon's mind was as tangled as the chairman's. He'd never voiced it, but he fully grasped their stifling predicament.
He alone held the keys to the vault—not the chairman's sons, daughters, or grandsons. That had bred baseless rumors, and the thin-skinned children endlessly questioned his loyalty. Secretary General Jeong Dong-gyun lay in wait for any chance to oust him.
I can endure this much—it came with the territory I accepted... The real issue is the young master...
All current troubles stemmed from Min-ho's sudden rise. None could match his brilliance. "Brilliant" fell short; he defied description. Time and again, he'd pulled off unimaginable masterstrokes, propelling JK Group up the mountainside in a single leap. An undeniable fact, even to Moon.
But it had upended the natural order—and that was the problem. No denying it: Min-ho now occupied the chairman's innermost thoughts. Du-seong had been the heir apparent, but for the Group's growth, Min-ho ascending the throne was the obvious choice.
Disrupt the order, and the greedy offspring would spark infighting by any means. JK Group flourished daily, yet these festering issues simmered beneath, slowly surfacing. Problems piled up; solutions remained elusive.
He exhaled his frustration with the smoke, scattering it into the morning mist. No point dwelling on unsolvable woes. Grabbing the delivered newspaper, he slipped quietly back inside.
Chairman Kang was in the living room—thirty minutes earlier than usual.
"Chairman, you're up already?"
"Same face every day—why the surprise? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"No, sir. Just startled since it's earlier than usual."
"Seems like the older I get, the less morning sleep I need."
"The job's done without a hitch."
Though asleep, the chairman had known exactly how Moon would handle it.
"Let me guess... you had them strip naked again?"
"Yes, sir."
"The secretariat kids are reliable enough. You could've gone easy on the tape."
"We can't rule out even the slightest chance. It was flawless."
"Your thoroughness leaves even me throwing up my hands."
As the chairman finished, Moon moved to the kitchen and brought a glass of water.
"You must be beat—take the day off."
"No, sir. Too much to do."
"Look at those bloodshot eyes—what work do you think you'll manage?"
"I'm fine, really."
The chairman sipped his water with a silent smile before speaking.
"You know why I keep you by my side, despite my kids' whining?"
"Yes, Chairman."
"It's the composure and judgment my own children lack. Sleep deprivation clouds the mind—no avoiding it. Drop the stubbornness... rest till sunset."
"Understood."
"Give Min-ho a call. He'll handle the rest."
"Yes, Chairman."