The Viper and the Hippo's Wager
If victory or defeat were weighed solely by financial might, Min-ho's Athena couldn't even stand a chance against Namdo Group. As always, an acquisition battle wasn't just about money. It was the fierce strategies waged beneath the surface that decided the outcome. Han Du-hak was dull-witted, while Min-ho was sharp beyond compare. Chairman Kang already knew what would happen if those two clashed in an acquisition war. The drinks were merely an excuse for the meeting.
Arriving at the rendezvous to boast about his grandson, Chairman Kang placed a hand on Moon the butler's shoulder and said, “It won't take long.”
“Understood, Chairman.”
With an employee's guidance, Chairman Kang entered. As the sliding door opened, Han Du-hak—who had arrived first—sat in the center of the vast room, knocking back drinks one after another. Their eyes met. The glares they exchanged were far from friendly.
Chairman Kang sat down and picked up his chopsticks first. “Even in old age, your gluttony hasn't changed.”
Han Du-hak, chomping away at the food as if he hadn't eaten in days without so much as a glance, replied, “Same to you. Haven't seen you in ages, but it looks like you've sprouted a few more warts.”
Their relationship was truly enigmatic. They were childhood friends from the same hometown, growing up together. In their youth, united by the dream of making it big, they'd come to Seoul and endured every hardship. A few years later, they started a loan shark business together in Myeong-dong. But with personalities and values worlds apart, it was inevitable their partnership wouldn't last. Han Du-hak, whose greed always outpaced his abilities, constantly pulled dirty tricks to grab more than his share. Chairman Kang wasn't one to let that slide. Like any partnership between friends, it ended with nothing but bad memories.
Jin-gwang became known as the Viper, Du-hak as the Hippo, rising as titans of Myeong-dong's loan shark scene. Though their industries diverged later, they clashed over everything. Whether by chance or fate, a rivalry naturally formed. On the surface, they seemed like snarling enemies, but their shared history made the emotions complex and profound.
To JK Group's Chairman Kang Jin-gwang, the golden goose of JK Telecom now laid eggs aplenty. No one could deny he held the clear advantage. Jin-gwang refilled Du-hak's glass from the bottle and eyed him intently. Swarthy skin, a belly protruding like Namsan Mountain, smacking lips... Nothing about him appealed.
Du-hak, gorging relentlessly, let out a earth-shaking belch before speaking. “What brings our esteemed Chairman to summon me?”
“After all our years together, good or ill, don't I deserve to know if you're dead or alive? Just passing by, thought I'd drop in.”
“Turn on the TV, and it's all JK Telecom—bet your mouth's grinning ear to ear.”
“I was fretting it'd split from smiling too hard, so I hung it under the eaves for a bit.”
Du-hak couldn't outtalk Jin-gwang. He gulped liquor like a woodcutter chopping all day. Staring hard at Jin-gwang, he broached the subject. “We parted on bad terms, but after all those years, I do sometimes crave a drink.”
“Could've called.”
“Then I'd see your face and the booze would sour. You always look like you're mocking me, even when you're just smiling.”
“Live long enough, and you see it all... You noticing that much.”
Slamming his glass down roughly, Du-hak said, “You look like you've got something to say. Spit it out before you turn it to mush.”
“Your style's the same as ever—stubborn one way, vile another...”
“That viper's nose for it... The job's already done. If you're sniffing around for nothing, give it up.”
“I'm Kang Jin-gwang. Even if we're on bad terms, there's such a thing as business ethics. I won't touch your slobber-coated scraps, so rest easy.”
Jin-gwang drained his full glass and slyly revealed his true intent. “You think you can snag Yeonggwang Ilbo?”
“I've got the screens in place. This is as good as a solo bid.”
“Word is another firm's jumped in.”
Their views clashed head-on. Jin-gwang was certain Min-ho would win; Du-hak was sure of himself.
Du-hak smirked, one corner of his mouth twitching. “You really think I'd lose to some rootless upstart?”
“You can't tell long from short till you measure navel to navel. How can you be so sure it's rootless?”
“After ten years, that's all you wanted to say? Aigoo, what a bone-deep disappointment.”
Clueless, Du-hak mocked him. Guzzling makgeolli to stifle his laughter, Jin-gwang continued. “Even vipers can't hide their age. Folks get timid in their dotage.”
“Is that how I look to you?”
“Looks like you're fretting Namdo snags a paper and sprinkles chili powder on JK Telecom. What to do?”
Staring at Du-hak with disdain for a long moment, Jin-gwang suppressed a chuckle. “Green chili powder's useless no matter how much you shake... I'm here to warn you.”
“I sowed the seeds—I know if it's green or Cheongyang. You wouldn't.”
“Cheongyang stings your eyes just nearing it... But you? No whiff of that.”
Du-hak didn't even know his foe was Min-ho, let alone how brilliant he was. Like a deer meeting a tiger on the mountain but casually drinking from a stream. To Jin-gwang, Du-hak looked like a deer facing imminent death.
Du-hak's confidence wasn't baseless. He'd boosted Yeonggwang Ilbo's reliance on Namdo ads, then lured them into debt. The plan to swallow it whole had progressed steadily; only fireworks remained. He'd lined up stooges aplenty. Against just one newbie firm, victory was assured—doubting it would be odd.
Ripping into ribs ferociously, Du-hak laughed awhile before speaking. “What if I win?”
“How about a wager, for old times' sake?”
Jin-gwang had always excelled at number games since youth, never starting a fight he could lose. Du-hak, after all these years, knew it well. If Jin-gwang proposed a bet so boldly, something was up. He reran every scenario, but defeat seemed impossible. A sly smile crept over his face, certain of victory. He saw a chance to gain something.
“Sure, let's. If I lose, I'll gift you a top-end sedan.”
“Throw in car payments, and I accept gladly.”
“Pfft, what's that cost? Of course.”
Big stakes for old men, but between chairmen, a car seemed paltry. Certain of victory, Jin-gwang played his bold card without hesitation. “If you lose, I'll stake all my JK Telecom shares.”
At the mention of billions in shares, Du-hak's eyes widened. “That... really?”
“You know I don't jest idly.”
“Confidence is good, but this is a no-brainer.”
“Ancestors said judge the coffin closed. You size folks up right only after the lid's down.”
Jin-gwang and Du-hak each smiled with different meanings. Silently eyeing Du-hak, Jin-gwang spoke gravely. “I warned you plain. Sheep in wolf's clothing—you'll learn in time. Bound to.”
It seemed innocuous, but really, Jin-gwang was bragging about his grandson. Eyeing Du-hak like a beggar at a feast, he donned his overcoat. “Even chairmen must stay neat, but your slurping killed my appetite—couldn't touch my chopsticks.”
“Just a healthy eater. Nitpicky from youth to now, unchanged.”
“I'll head out. This covers the drinks.”
Without touching a bite, Chairman Kang pulled a check from his wallet and set it on the table.
The check wasn't for drinks. They'd always said bragging about grandkids cost money—and Jin-gwang had made it so. The oblivious glutton before the feast wouldn't catch on.
Eying the check, Du-hak said, “Won't stop you paying, but cash a check? Owe you an IOU first?”
Without turning, Jin-gwang replied to the absurdity. “My fingerprint's on it. That's IOU enough. Enjoy your meal slowly.”
Surface-level, no winner declared—but anyone could see Chairman Kang Jin-gwang victorious. Han Du-hak would grasp his meaning only much later.
Beaming broadly, Chairman Kang stepped out. “Chairman, you're out?”
“Tried soothing my hunger in that pigsty, but no dice. Close to the market—let's grab gukbap.”
“Yes, Chairman. Understood.”
***
Yeouido, Athena. Lawyer Choi Jong-hoon and Manager Cheon Dong-gwan toiled without rest for the looming acquisition victory. Heaping files on the lawyer's desk, Cheon said, “A review, please, Counselor.”
“Done with these already?”
“After Pocheon hell, this is nothing.”
Unlike the bustling pair, Min-ho stood by the window, gazing at the Han River, organizing his thoughts. Choi approached cautiously. “Young master, did Yeonggwang Ilbo's President Jo hold off signing with us over Namdo Group's debts?”
“Leash in hand, hasty moves spell trouble. You know what full seizure proceedings mean.”
“True. It'll drag on endlessly. Even post-acquisition, clearing debts takes ages.”
“Told Jo to play neutral.”
The battle neared its climax. Min-ho always pulled a masterstroke then, but this time, oddly silent. Choi began his report based on analysis. “Ran every scenario—pure funds war, we can't win.”
“Could curse them with winner's hubris, but our 20 billion outflow isn't rosy either.”
“If you've got something, tell us. We can adapt flexibly.”
“Was about to explain. Check this map?”
Min-ho marked the Nakdong River in red pen. “What’s this look like?”
“Not sure. What is it?”
“Phone'll ring soon.”
“From where?”
“Yeonggwang Ilbo's President Jo.”
As words ended, the phone rang. As predicted, President Jo Dong-uk. Voice agitated, he urgently reported. “Sir, found it.”
“Certain?”
“Yes. Namdo Chemicals' illegal dump in the Nakdong River.”
“Good work. You, included—three in the know?”
“Yes.”
“Leaks first elsewhere, I pull out instantly.”
“Worry not—it's locked tight.”
“Thanks for the effort.”
“Truly grateful. Thank you.”
Hanging up, Min-ho smiled at Lawyer Choi. “Yeonggwang Ilbo's ours.”