Fatal Hit-and-Run
Apgujeong-dong, a high-end bar. Secretary General Jeong Dong-gyun and JD Morgan Korea Branch President Park Ji-woong tilted their whiskey glasses as they conversed.
“How long has it been? Last time I saw you was at Dong-sik’s parents’ funeral, so about eight months ago?”
“Senior, I should’ve visited more often to pay my respects... but work’s been piling up.”
“You’re the secretary general of JK Group—of course you’re busy. No, it’s an honor to share a drink like this.”
“Not at all. Thank you for making time for me.”
By the plan, Kang Beom-seong should have made contact with the foreign investment firm. But the unexpected appointment had shifted him to Seoul City Hall, forcing him to step down as president of JK Investment Trust Securities. Now, Jeong was the only one left who could handle it.
He smiled outwardly, but inside, he was rotting away, pus oozing from the wounds. Kang Du-seong’s connections, which he’d once seen as an opportunity, were now strangling him. He wanted to break free, but one word from Du-seong, and Jeong was as good as dead.
In the end, he had no choice but to swallow his pride, rub his hands like a fly, and come begging to Park Ji-woong.
“You came to me out of the blue, so it must be urgent... Don’t beat around the bush. Spit it out.”
Park, a veteran of countless deals, wasn’t fooled easily. He was already calculating what proposal Jeong might make.
“Then I’ll cut to the chase.”
Jeong lowered his voice and explained the plan in detail. It was shocking news; Park even set down his glass to ask again.
“You’re saying Kang Du-seong is stabbing the Viper in the back?”
“Yes. That’s the situation right now.”
“Even in this cutthroat world without honor, a son striking his father... And not just any father—Kang Jin-gwang. You really think it’s possible?”
“The funds are all prepared.”
“So you’re saying you’ve set everything up—just pour in the rest from our side?”
“Yes, Senior.”
A foreign securities firm’s sole goal was money. JK Group was a plump, juicy slab of meat without a shred of fat. As it rolled right into his lap, a smile crept across Park’s lips.
“We hold 4.3% of JK stock. How much more do you need?”
“Not too much, not too little—7% will do.”
“Seven percent... Expectations are sky-high on the street.”
“Yes. Operating profits are climbing steadily, and the number of affiliates is exploding.”
Having grasped the situation, Park flashed a sly grin, downed his whiskey in one gulp, and said,
“Right. Buy that much, and we’ll back you at the shareholders’ meeting... Not hard at all. But I need my cut—what’s in it for me?”
“I figured as much. I’ve already cleared it with Chairman Kang Du-seong. Name your price, and it’s yours.”
JD Morgan Korea held the casting vote in this plan. Quick on the uptake, Park made an unexpected counteroffer.
“Money’s fine—we’ve got plenty. If we side with you... how about transferring 3% of all JK Group affiliates’ stock to us?”
Sweat trickled down Jeong’s spine. If JD Morgan handed those voting rights to Chairman Kang, the whole plan would collapse. It was an outrageous demand, but he had no choice but to accept.
To drive it home, Park stood casually and said,
“No profit, no deal.”
If the JD Morgan talks failed, Jeong was dead meat. Clutching his arm, he blurted,
“Senior! Senior...”
“Why the sweat? Scared I’m heading to the bathroom?”
“Pardon? Am I?”
“Wait here a sec...”
“Yes, sir.”
Park was shrewd. He stepped away deliberately, giving Jeong time to stew. In that brief moment, thoughts raced through Jeong’s mind. There was only one conclusion.
The thirsty and desperate must dig their own well. No other choice.
Park returned and sat down.
“So... it’s late. Give me a straight answer.”
“We accept your proposal.”
“You’ve covered the worst-case scenario, of course?”
“Yes. No matter what happens, we won’t drag you down.”
“Good... That’s Kang Du-seong for you—clean and decisive. I’m in a great mood; drinks are on me.”
Outside, Park’s car waited. Jeong opened the rear door, bowing low.
“Senior, thank you for your help.”
“Thanks? We’re all just trying to get by. Call if anything comes up.”
“Will do.”
“We’ll meet again once the shares are secured.”
“Take care.”
Jeong kept bowing until the car vanished, then straightened up.
“Secretary general, my ass—bowing and scraping everywhere... Ugh...”
A bit tipsy and frustrated, Jeong lit a cigarette and stepped into a crosswalk without signals.
“Haven’t even lit it, just chomping on it...”
He stopped, rummaging for his lighter—but nothing.
“When things go wrong, they go all wrong. Why no lighter now?”
At that moment, a swerving sedan barreled toward him at terrifying speed. Standing dead center in the crosswalk, Jeong was lost in his lighter. He looked up too late at the headlights.
No time to dodge. With a deafening crash, he was flung to the ground.
The driver stopped, got out, and checked him.
“Fuck... He’s dead? Shit!”
Glancing around, the hit-and-run driver abandoned Jeong, jumped back in, and floored it.
***
Shilla Beer president’s office.
Kang Du-seong’s only card left was a surprise share grab to seize control. He was confident it was airtight—but that was a fatal miscalculation.
A leaked secret, by sheer chance, reached Gu Eun-chae’s ears. Thanks to her, Kang Min-ho could prepare even more meticulously.
Oblivious to this, Du-seong lounged in the office, legs crossed, chatting with his friend Han Seok-ju.
“Man, you’re having a rough old age. What sin did you commit in a past life to fight your own son?”
“It just happened.”
“No thought to butter up Dad and get your share nice and easy?”
“It’s mine by right. I’m just taking what’s owed.”
“True... If Min-ho hadn’t popped up, it’d all be yours...”
Han stubbed out his cigarette and continued.
“You know one slip-up here, and you’re done for—no comeback.”
“Think I don’t?”
“Yeah, you know best. JD Morgan’s all set?”
Assuming smooth sailing in ignorance, Du-seong replied casually.
“Sent Jeong—he’s got the connections. Should be wrapped up by now.”
“Not cheap. How’re you funding the rest?”
“Bank loans, JD Morgan, and what you lend—plenty.”
“Whoa! Dipping into customer funds now? The great Kang Du-seong must be desperate.”
Cornered, Du-seong had included untouchable customer money in the plan—crossing a line he knew better than anyone. But he couldn’t stop now.
“Borrow short-term, pay back quick.”
“You know that could ruin more than a couple clients?”
“No other way.”
“Fine... You’ll handle it. Anyway, what’s my reward when you’re chairman?”
Han was taking big risks too. He deserved commensurate payback.
“Whole JK Investment Trust Securities, plus 10% of Telecom shares. Enough?”
Lending funds short-term meant billions in profit from his seat. Overflowing for Han.
He smirked faintly.
“Can’t ask for more. Security’s tight, right?”
“Just you, me, and Jeong. What, getting cold feet?”
“Not scared of much, but your dad...”
“Quit worrying. No matter how rich he is, once we buy the shares, game over.”
With borrowed funds for shares and JD Morgan backing him, even the mighty Chairman Kang couldn’t fight back.
No secret or plan is perfect. Wily Han dangled a hedge.
“What if...”
“It goes wrong?”
“Bad juju, but one of us has to survive to clean up.”
“Idiot! I’m Kang Du-seong. I won’t drag you down—don’t worry.”
Convinced of perfection this time, Du-seong exhaled smoke with a wicked grin.
***
Kang Min-ho’s residence. 4:30 a.m., everyone deep in sleep.
A sedan pulled up. The driver scanned the surroundings warily.
Ringing the bell won’t work...
Glancing around, he vaulted the wall in a flash and hurried to the door. No time to waste.
He pounded with his fist.
“Young master! Young master!”
After a while, Min-ho opened the door, rubbing his eyes.
“Moon butler? What brings you here at this hour?”
“I know you were sleeping, but it’s urgent.”
“Is Grandfather ill?”
Even siding with Du-seong, Jeong was Moon’s direct junior. Moon sighed heavily before speaking.
“Just before dawn, 2 a.m. Secretary General Jeong Dong-gyun... deceased.”
“He was fine days ago—sudden death? What happened?”
“Hit-and-run. Rushed to hospital, but he’d lost too much blood. Nothing they could do.”
“Culprit caught?”
“Full secretary office mobilized—arrested with police two hours after death. At Gangnam station now.”
Jeong’s death was something Moon could handle alone. No need to scale walls at dawn. Sensing more, Min-ho pressed.
“If just dead, you’d have called. The perp... someone I know? Athena employee?”
Moon paused, then murmured softly.
“Choi Jong-hoon’s father, Choi Jae-oh.”