Betting on Japan's Fall
Cheon Dong-gwan, born and raised in Japan, knew the country better than anyone. There was no doubt: Japan was an economic superpower. Yet Min-ho was declaring with absolute certainty that its economy would crumble.
For Cheon Dong-gwan, Japan was as good as his homeland, making the claim hard to swallow. Doubting his own ears, he asked again.
"Young master, if I'm overstepping, forgive me—but are you joking right now?"
"Do I look like I came all this way to joke?"
"That's not what I meant. It's just... unbelievable."
"I've bet everything on Japan collapsing. What do you think, Mr. Cheon?"
"You've never even been there, but they're saying you could buy half of America if you sold Tokyo land right now. And it's not entirely exaggeration."
"So, you're saying a top economic powerhouse like that couldn't possibly?"
"Yes, that's my view."
Was Cheon Dong-gwan just slow-witted? No. At that time, no one—not even the Japanese government, which had pulled out the clever card of lending regulations—could have imagined their economy collapsing.
Min-ho hadn't come to hear opinions. He needed someone fluent in both languages, with the experience and hands to execute.
"I didn't come for your opinion."
"Then this money... you're entrusting it to me to act as your hands and feet?"
"Just do exactly what I tell you and come back. I'll clear all your debts and set you up with a decent house to live comfortably. How's that?"
Working nonstop at this factory for a month netted barely 350,000 won. Even skimping on sleep for overtime barely pushed it to under 500,000. A 200 million won debt? Assuming he spent nothing, it'd take 33 years. Factoring in his age, he'd die trying to pay it off.
A lifeline dropped from the sky out of nowhere. Min-ho's offer to go to Japan and serve as his proxy. For a man born and raised there, it wasn't hard.
"I... what exactly would I need to do?"
"You know there are no products in Korea for investing in Japanese stocks, right?"
"Yes, I worked at Nokura Securities for two years, so I know well."
"So, where should I bet this money?"
"You don't mean... all of it on put options?"
"Pump it up moderately, then come back to Korea. That's the plan."
Back then, Korea had no investment products for Japanese stocks. Sure, with massive capital, you could create a new financial product. But Min-ho's funds were far too short for that.
He'd considered going himself, but language, identity, time—it was impossible. And now, eyes were on him everywhere. With so much to do, he couldn't be tied down in Japan.
The perfect proxy: a Zainichi Korean like Cheon Dong-gwan. Send him to Tokyo, and the plan would flow smoothly.
Cheon gripped the moneybag handle, his mind a whirlwind. Investments always carried risk. If it failed, arrows would fly his way.
After long deliberation, he spoke.
"I'll do as you instruct, young master... but you should consider the chance of failure."
"Failure? My plan won't fail."
"Forgive me, but investments are uncertain territory."
"If it fails, I won't hold you accountable—I promise. Just follow my instructions exactly. Nothing will go wrong. You're still hesitating?"
By Min-ho's logic, there was no risk for Cheon. A businessman like him wouldn't pass up this once-in-a-lifetime shot.
"I'll do it. I want to. But there's one issue."
"Tell me."
"As you know, I'm trapped here."
"Already handled. Just tell the others you're checking into the hospital for a bit."
"Understood. If you do that, I have no more wishes."
Min-ho pulled out a prepared envelope and pressed it into Cheon's hand.
"Use this for travel expenses. Plenty in there—no shortages. Squeeze in a hospital visit when you can."
Stunned by the huge sum plus travel money, one question burned in Cheon's mind: Why choose him, a royal like Min-ho?
Fiddling with the envelope, he asked the root of it.
"May I ask why you chose me?"
"Ex-securities firm Zainichi Korean, and trustworthy. Need more explanation?"
"Have you seen me before? I swear we've never met..."
In his past life, Min-ho had watched Cheon Dong-gwan's thorny path. Just one greedy business move at a good opportunity, and the price was brutally harsh.
Diligent, family-focused Cheon had slaved day and night to pay debts, only to get hit with terminal cancer like a bolt from the blue. He didn't last a month.
Min-ho had pitied him but couldn't help a dead man. Now, he wanted to execute his plan while gifting this tragic soul a different life.
Lost in thought, Min-ho gave a meaningful reply.
"I've seen you plenty. Knew you're a good man. Still tending that vegetable patch?"
"How did you know?"
"Dirt under your nails."
"Sharp eyes you have. When I dig potatoes this year, I'll fill both your hands."
"Forget work here and go. Then you and your family escape this hell."
"You promise?"
"Of course. I stake everything on it."
To seal the deal, Min-ho extended his right hand. Cheon grasped it with trembling fingers.
"I'll give it my all."
"Follow this to the letter. Call this number every evening at 9 PM."
"Got it."
"Prepare to leave now."
***
At Min-ho's order, Lawyer Choi pulled all the workers out from inside the factory.
Perplexed by the sudden command, they stepped into the sunlight, squinting in confusion.
Min-ho scanned their faces slowly. They looked much like Cheon: debtors doomed to labor here forever, faces filled with despair and shadow.
He wanted to free them all, but that would mean crossing Chairman Kang Jin-gwang. He lacked the authority—or the cash to wipe their debts.
Still, he could ease their pain a little. It was the best he could do now.
Squinting against the bright sun, unaware wretches frowned deeply. Min-ho approached, sunglasses on.
"From now on, roll up your sleeves and pants so I can see your limbs clearly."
Not knowing who he was, they glanced at Factory Manager Ham for cues. Flustered but unable to defy, they complied.
"H-Hey, what're you waiting for? Roll 'em up—everyone, pants and sleeves!"
As they hiked up pants, shins were black-and-blue. Arms and torsos were no different. The reason was obvious.
Min-ho nodded and called Ham over. The manager, who'd been watching warily, scurried up with a bow.
"You called?"
"If these people can't pay because they're beaten, you foot the bill?"
"No, sir. I'm sorry."
"My grandfather didn't order cowardly beatings like that. You've smeared his name."
"I'm sorry. Truly."
"Let's hear the reason. Why?"
"They... wouldn't listen..."
Min-ho lowered his voice so others couldn't hear, issuing a stern warning.
"I might come back anytime. If this happens again..."
He trailed off, pointing to the mountainside. No more words needed.
"I'll remember, young master. Sorry."
"Stop work. Take them all to the hospital."
"Right away, sir."
"Zip it tight."
"Of course. No worries."
Turning to leave, Min-ho spotted a man. Tattered and filthy, far from his old polish, but instantly recognizable.
Staring a moment, Min-ho said nothing and got in the car for Seoul.
Quenching his thirst with a drink, he brought up an old story with Lawyer Choi.
"Long time ago—do you know a guy named Jeong Na-il?"
"The embezzlement case?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"Before my time at the firm, but it was so infamous I know it well."
"Know his face?"
"I come to Pocheon, see Manager Ham, and leave. Don't memorize worker faces."
Gazing out the window, Min-ho dropped a loaded remark.
"The dirtiest-clothed guy on the far right? Jeong Na-il."
"How do you know, young master?"
"He bought me lots of candy when I was a kid."
No one but Ham knew Min-ho's true identity. But go back in time, and it changed.
Stunned by the bombshell, Lawyer Choi slammed the brakes and pulled to the shoulder.
"You mean... Jeong Na-il might recognize you?"
"Yeah, definitely. His look at me was different from the others."
What he'd thought flawless now had an unforeseen snag. Choi gripped the wheel, shaking his head. He knew what Chairman Kang's wrath could mean.
"If the chairman finds out, you'll be in deep trouble. I'll go back, threaten or bribe him quiet—handle it."
Unlike the frantic lawyer, Min-ho smiled leisurely.
"Think you can seal that sly bastard's mouth?"
"I know, but this is like living with a time bomb."
"What if I gave him money?"
"He'd use it as leverage for more."
"A man with nothing to lose has no leverage."
Min-ho was right. No gag would fully silence cunning Jeong Na-il. Min-ho skipped the band-aid. Instead, he saw a chance to test Chairman Kang's trust.
Unlike the worried lawyer, Min-ho smiled easily.
"Can't block it anyway. So what's best?"
"Young master, you don't mean... let it leak on purpose?"
"Exactly. That's my target."
"The chairman can't know. All our hard work could collapse. Reconsider?"
Min-ho knew Chairman Kang Jin-gwang; Choi didn't. Their perspectives clashed sharply.
"If Grandfather trusts me, Japan's branch is buzzing now, and instead of sanctions, he'll test me another way."
"Please think again. Too risky."
"Decision stands. Don't worry—drive."
"Understood. I'll prepare for worst-case anyway."
Meanwhile, heading to Seoul, a call came to Seongbuk-dong.
"Seongbuk-dong."
"Butler Moon, Jeong Na-il here. Got good info—thought you'd want to know."