Chapter 21: The Crack
***
In stark contrast to the uproar at JK Credit Info, turned upside down by Kang Min-ho's unbelievable debt collection skills, JK Mutual Savings Bank—still in the dark about the news—was much the same as always.
Kang Min-ho's father, Kang Du-seong, was doing what he always did: reviewing reports with a cigarette dangling from his lips and his brows furrowed.
When the phone rang, he stretched out his arm irritably, picking it up with a listless expression.
"What is it?"
"President, a call from the National Tax Service."
"National Tax Service? Who?"
"The Director of Taxation. He's insisting we put him through. What should I do?"
"Patch him through."
"Yes, sir."
The sudden call from the Taxation Director gave Kang Du-seong pause. As far as he knew, they had no connections there. The National Tax Service usually called after something blew up—and that was never a welcome development for him.
He tilted his head and picked up. "Kang Du-seong speaking."
"Hello? This is Lim Min-kang, Director of the Investigation Bureau at the National Tax Service."
"Yes, I hope you're well. We've crossed paths a few times before, haven't we?"
"I'm honored that you remember me, President."
Kang Du-seong, curious about the director's intentions, cut straight to the chase. "We've exchanged greetings. Is there some issue that prompted your call?"
"Oh, come on—the Investigation Bureau doesn't just call when there's trouble."
"Is there something I can help with?"
"No, no. I just wanted to personally thank JK for the huge favor."
"What on earth are you talking about...?"
The out-of-the-blue call from the National Tax Service, topped with this unexpected gratitude, left Kang Du-seong utterly baffled.
"You probably haven't heard yet, so let me explain briefly. The Sopan-sik case in Myeonmok-dong—your JK staff resolved the debt."
"You're saying our employee handled that case?"
"Yes, so I had to pass along my thanks."
"I haven't gotten any reports yet, so I don't have much to say, but debt matters fall under JK Credit Info."
"I heard you were personally overseeing everything there."
"This is the first I've heard of it... Could you be more specific?"
"Ah, sorry—the commissioner just summoned me. We'll meet face-to-face next time for proper thanks."
"Of course."
Kang Du-seong hung up, dazed. He couldn't make sense of a call from the Investigation Bureau mentioning Sopan-sik's debt.
As he tilted his head again, the phone rang once more.
"Kang Du-seong speaking."
"Hello, President? This is Heo Min-ung, Deputy Director of Seoul City's Taxation Division."
Another call from an agency with little direct ties to JK.
"Hello?"
"Thanks to JK, we pulled out a nagging tooth clean as can be. Just calling to say thank you."
"I haven't received any reports yet."
With the issue resolved out of the blue, the Taxation Division was thrilled, naturally. Heo Min-ung's voice brimmed with excitement as he continued.
"You'll get the report soon. Just know it's the Myeonmok-dong case, and it'll be great news."
"I'd appreciate any details you can share."
"Good news is best heard firsthand. We only learned about it late ourselves, so we don't have the full picture."
"Understood. We'll leave it at that."
One after another, they all thanked him profusely before hanging up. It was a string of incomprehensible events.
What's going on here?
As he reached for the receiver to get a handle on things, his secretaries entered, arms laden with gifts meticulously wrapped in silk cloth.
"What's all that?"
"Yes, President—these are honey and wild ginseng that customers grew themselves."
"Send them back. You know taking expensive gifts like these means coughing up double later?"
"Well... A lot of customers came in, opened deposit accounts, thanked us profusely, and insisted we keep them."
Calls from the National Tax Service and Seoul City, now a barrage of gifts from customers—Kang Du-seong's confusion only deepened.
"Get Choi Jong-hoon in here now."
"Yes, President."
As the secretaries closed the door behind them, Kang Myeong-seon poked her head through the crack and slipped in.
"No need for that, bro—I figured you'd call, so I came myself."
***
Kang Du-seong stared at his younger sister Myeong-seon. "What the hell have you been up to?"
"Oh, come on—what kind of trouble could your adorable little sister be causing? Pretty ones, obviously?"
"I don't have time for your games. Spill it."
"The National Tax Service and Taxation Division called, right? Those gifts are from customers."
"How do you know that?"
"Why else would I be here?"
Kang Du-seong's irritation peaked at her surface-level answer. He lit a cigarette, brows knitting tightly.
"Quit playing around with leftovers and give me the meaty details I can understand."
"You're just like Dad when you're like this."
"Hey!"
"Okay, okay, you hothead... Bro, you know Sopan-sik in Myeonmok-dong?"
Kang Du-seong exhaled smoke and nodded slowly.
"I told President Park in Pocheon everything. We'll drag him to the factory on maturity date."
"No need."
"That bastard's sitting on 120 million—that chump change to some mutt?"
"We got it all back. Satisfied?"
Even for the formidable Kang Du-seong, this was hard to swallow. He blinked at Myeong-seon, speechless.
"Say that again. We got all of Sopan-sik's money?"
"Yep, every bit. Guess who pulled it off?"
"Why ask me if I knew?"
"Take a guess—you can figure it out."
"Did you come here to piss me off? Talk straight."
"Fine, fine—Min-ho got it. Principal and interest, all in physical assets."
Sopan-sik's debt resolution was shock enough, but Min-ho at the center of it all? Kang Du-seong rejected it outright, no deep thought required.
"Say he bashed heads with a brick—that'd be quicker. You expect me to buy this nonsense?"
"Bro! You're dissing our company's top new hire?"
Myeong-seon might tease her brother endlessly, but money matters always sobered her. She wouldn't trek here at this hour for a joke. Her expression and eyes were dead serious.
He tried denying it, but her demeanor screamed fact. Grumbling despite himself, Kang Du-seong prodded her on.
"Cut the crap and get to the conclusion."
"He grabbed a sledgehammer, went to Myeonmok-dong, smashed a wall, and found gold. Summary done?"
"Don't make me ask twice—add details."
"But you said just the conclusion!"
"A sledgehammer and gold? What bullshit is that?"
Myeong-seon took a sip of coffee to wet her throat and continued.
"Min-ho spotted something off in the documents."
"He funneled cash somewhere—we both know that. Problem is, no one knows where."
"Anyway, that Sopan-sik prick kept facing the bathroom wall with shifty eyes."
"So he grabbed a sledgehammer and smashed a debtor's wall?"
"Who else but Min-ho would do that stone-cold sober?"
Hiding gold in a bathroom wall? Even Kang Du-seong had never heard the like. Skeptical, he pressed on.
"Gold came out, and the debt's settled?"
"Yeah. Looks like Choi the lawyer tagged along. National Tax Service, Seoul City, all the creditors swarmed in and cleared it."
Sudden thank-you calls, customer gifts—now it all clicked for Kang Du-seong.
Unbelievable. Min-ho pulled this off?
He exhaled a long plume of smoke, picturing Min-ho. He'd noticed the changes, but their scale exceeded imagination.
Still disbelieving, he warned Myeong-seon like a threat. "If even one word's off, I'll seize every loan you've got."
"Whatever! Believe it or not, your call."
She glared at her persistently negative brother with saucer eyes.
"Bro, really..."
A quiet knock interrupted her. She swallowed her words.
"Come in."
Right on cue, Lawyer Choi Jong-hoon entered.
"You called, President?"
"Perfect timing. Sit."
"Yes, sir."
Choi quietly set a bag of gold bars on the table and took a seat. The mysterious bag seized Kang Du-seong's attention.
"What's with the bag?"
"Brought it for asset verification."
"Quit stalling—open it."
"Yes, sir."
Myeong-seon, knowing the contents, smiled. Kang Du-seong remained dubious.
Choi opened the bag, revealing gleaming gold bars.
"What... what the hell is all this?"
"Gold bars seized from Mr. Sopan-sik by the young master."
"Min-ho did this?"
"Yes, President. Undeniable fact."
"You think this makes sense?"
"I witnessed the whole thing myself."
Irrefutable proof now sat before his eyes. Even Kang Du-seong had to acknowledge Min-ho's transformation and feats.
After a long, silent stare at the gold, he spoke slowly. "You were on-site too?"
"By the time I arrived at the time the young master specified, the wall was already down. And..."
Kang Du-seong raised a hand, cutting him off. "Hold on. Min-ho had you prep the National Tax Service, Taxation Division, and other creditors in advance?"
"That's right."
"That means he knew everything. Impossible."
Choi nodded and continued his report. "I asked about that part myself—it puzzled me."
"What'd he say?"
"Just betting on a very low-probability scenario."
The first collection: start to finish, flawless. An impeccable scenario without a single flaw.
"Alright, good work. You're dismissed."
"Yes, sir."
"Take plenty of staff when moving it."
"Five are with me now."
"Make it secure and wrap up."
"Yes, sir. Goodbye."
Choi bowed and left, closing the door softly.
Myeong-seon, eyeing her brother, grinned. "So? Our top new hire's star turn?"
"Like catching a wild boar stumbling backward from a cow. No need to make a fuss."
"You can praise a job well done."
"That kid could screw up anytime. Don't just dangle carrots—keep the whip cracking."
"Stubborn as ever, employees and bosses alike... Oh, I forgot to mention this."
Myeong-seon clapped her hands and went on. "You know that personnel order I signed for Section Chief Seo? Guess who got it?"
"Don't tell me it's Min-ho again."
"Bingo—he's now on the credit team."
"You really expect me to buy that after seeing this?"
"Bro! I'm the president—would I lie about something like this? Dozens of people witnessed it. You still don't trust people."
"Keep going."
He'd been getting daily reports on Min-ho via Choi, pretending disinterest while half-doubting. Truth be told, no previous tale had hooked him like this.
"Section Chief Seo has this annual headache, right? Min-ho solved it perfectly. And the real kicker?"
"What else?"
"Credit team's paperwork was piled to the ceiling. Guess what? Min-ho cleared it solo in hours."
"You want me to believe that?"
"Believe it or not, up to you. Anyway, I'm swamped—gotta go. Meeting Min-ho for drinks tonight."
"Drink in moderation. Old habits die hard with booze."
"Don't worry your pretty head. Bye, bro."
Myeong-seon shut the door behind her. As a father, Kang Du-seong's emotions churned in a complex swirl.
Scratching his head, his gaze drifted to the gifts by the door.
Calls from National Tax Service and Seoul City. Choi's report, Myeong-seon's tale—all facts about Min-ho.
Until recently, Min-ho had been a total wastrel. Drunk driving, assaults, endless scandals. Fed up, his father had bought a separate house and shoved him in, vowing never to see him again.
Yet a corner of his heart still held faint nostalgia for the clever boy from Min-ho's childhood. The son who mirrored his own tastes perfectly—the ideal child he'd once envisioned.
Expectations had been sky-high, disappointment abyssal for his third son. Now, it felt like that Min-ho had returned.
Emotions too tangled for words, Kang Du-seong chain-smoked pointlessly.
The towering wall of distrust he'd sworn unbreakable now bore its first tiny crack.
Top new hire, huh...
That phrase from Myeong-seon's lips pleased him more than the gold. No parent shrugs off praise for their child. Even Kang Du-seong, master of poker faces, couldn't stop his lips from twitching upward.
Lost in thought, he rose, opened the president's office door himself, and stepped out.
A president moving personally—unless urgent—was a storm cloud for staff. From experience, they bowed heads deeper, focusing intently, praying it passed harmlessly.
Kang Du-seong arrived at Manager Ma's desk. The tense manager shot up.
"Yes, President?"
"No fuss—sit."
Normally, he'd bark; today was different. He pulled out his wallet, tossing all its cash onto the desk.
Staff eyes locked on the unprecedented sight.
Manager Ma ventured cautiously, "President, forgive me—what's this?"
"What else? You've all worked hard. Go somewhere nice for drinks after."
"Pardon? Yes, sir. Thank you."
Staff stared, stunned. His milder expression, door-kicking exit, and drinks money—unheard of.
Back in his office, Kang Du-seong dialed with a flushed tone.
"President Hwang, it's me."
"Calling this late—what's up?"
"Free for dinner?"
"Something good happen?"
"Good? Just drinks. Cut the chatter—meet at the usual spot."
"Your treat?"
"Come before I change my mind. Hanging up."
A crack in the fortress walls? Collapse was only a matter of time.
Now the real beginning.
In his office, Min-ho sat reviewing documents meticulously, selecting his next target.