Chapter 31
I’m translating the chapter into polished HTML prose and preserving the in-universe formatting rules, including styled blocks where needed. I’m also checking names and terminology against your glossary so the English reads consistently.CHAPTER_TITLE: Chairman Do Jaehyun's Next Target
The companies listed in the documents Oh Handong had shown him were securities firms.
“So they’re brokerage houses.”
There were several of them, including Ilseong Securities. Among those securities companies was Jungwoo Securities, a subsidiary of the Jungwoo Group, which was currently ranked among the top five conglomerates in South Korea.
“Yes.”
“If they’re securities firms, haven’t I already bought enough Ilseong Securities stock?”
“I’d recommend building a fund with securities-company stocks, or making additional individual investments as well.”
“Why?”
“Diversification is the most basic portfolio principle. And I believe securities-company stocks are poised for stable gains right now.”
Oh Handong was right.
In 1998, the year of the IMF crisis, securities-company stocks had soared 300 to 400 percent over the course of the year. In other words, even the firms currently considered overvalued would still rise at least another 150 to 200 percent from present levels before the year was out.
“Hmm...”
Pretending to think it over, Jaehyun examined the documents Oh Handong had laid out before him.
Then he picked up the file for Jungwoo Securities, which had been sticking in his eye like grit since the moment he saw it, and studied it carefully.
“Manager Oh Handong.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Jungwoo Securities is a subsidiary of the Jungwoo Group, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. Chairman Kim Daewoo of the Jungwoo Group is the largest shareholder.”
“Interesting.”
Something in his tone had registered, and the corners of Oh Handong’s mouth lifted a fraction.
“I know exactly what you’re worried about, Customer Do Jaehyun. Rumors of a default crisis spread at the end of 1997, and it was soon revealed that the Jungwoo Group’s capital impairment had become serious. They’ll probably go bankrupt before the end of next year.”
“You think so?”
“Some groups within the top ten of the Korean business rankings have already collapsed. Even if the Jungwoo Group appears to have its hands deep in South Korea’s core industries, such as construction and automobiles, what it’s actually good at is distribution and sales, not management and expansion. From the Jungwoo Group’s perspective, the IMF may be a critical blow, but from the standpoint of South Korea’s broader economy, it’s a boon.”
“A boon?”
“What could be worse than failing companies receiving state support with the people’s tax money and dragging on like that? This isn’t communism...”
Listening to Oh Handong’s passionate speech, Jaehyun snorted at the word communism.
“But Jungwoo Securities is different. Even if every other securities firm falls, Jungwoo Securities’ stock will absolutely rise.”
Oh Handong’s voice sharpened with conviction. Lee Jeongrok, the branch manager, who had been pretending not to care while listening to the conversation between Jaehyun and Oh Handong, carefully set down the half-cooled coffee cup on the table and slid into the seat beside Oh Handong as cautiously as a cat.
“Even if a rich family falls, it lasts three generations. Are you saying Jungwoo Securities is the hidden vault for that fortune?”
“Exactly.”
“Why?”
“If the IMF had not hit, the Jungwoo Group would have chosen Jungwoo Cards over Jungwoo Securities as the minimum measure for defending management control and hiding funds. As you know, neither Ilseong nor the Johwa Group has a bank.”
“So the best way to mobilize cash is a bank, and after that, a card company?”
“Yes.”
“Now that I hear it, that makes sense. Unless you’re in loan-sharking or private lending, a card company is the best option. There’s card loans, card cashing...”
“I hadn’t really thought about card cashing, but... as you said, if a conglomerate chairman did private lending, it wouldn’t just end with getting cursed at, fined a bit, and rolling out in a wheelchair to say, ‘I’m sorry to the people.’”
Before the Internet, smartphones, and every kind of shopping app had appeared in South Korea, illegal or loophole-ridden schemes like card cashing were everywhere. Card cashing meant buying expensive electronics on installment with a credit card and reselling them at a loss to secure cash.
But the Republic of Korea I had lived in before I died went on to turn underground card cashing into a system protected by law.
They called it rental. Or leasing.
In the past, and in 1998 as I was living it now, if high-priced electronics like air conditioners or televisions could only be bought with cash or cards, the future would be different.
They could be bought not only with cash and cards, but also through all kinds of pay services and mobile payments.
And using that system, loan sharks and businessmen who needed legitimate slush funds would do the same thing as card cashing through rental companies or electronics leasing firms.
That was how a one-million-won air conditioner or TV could be sold as a sixty-month lease or rental for 2.3 million won, and someone who had intended to cash out a card would buy electronics through rental or leasing, then flip them on internet sites or mobile apps.
With lines like:
Brand-new, unopened product. Selling it 50,000 won below the lowest internet price.
They’d raise cash, use it for gambling or some desperate need, and the rental or leasing company would knowingly look the other way.
Loan businesses that lent money at least obeyed some minimum level of financial regulation and state law, but on the surface rental and leasing were actually far less tightly controlled.
And because they were renting physical goods rather than making a loan, they were also more favorable for debt collection.
Unlike financial businesses governed by the Interest Rate Limitation Act, rental fees could be set however the operator wanted.
“Customer Do Jaehyun? ...Sir?”
He must have drifted off in his own thoughts without realizing it.
“Are you all right? You look very tired.”
At Lee Jeongrok’s deeply sincere voice, drawn up from the pit of his stomach with true concern, the expressions of Do Jaehyun and Oh Handong stiffened slightly.
So that was what it took to be a branch manager, they thought, almost moved by the professionalism of it.
“Ah, sorry. I think I got a little too focused just then. Could you give me a moment to think?”
Jungwoo Securities.
If his memory was right, it had been one of the sound subsidiaries of the Jungwoo Group that survived even when the group defaulted under the weight of the IMF crisis and its debt. Kim Daewoo, the chairman of the Jungwoo Group, had been the largest shareholder.
More precisely, the Jungwoo Group had been the largest shareholder in Jungwoo Securities, but it amounted to the same thing.
However you looked at it, the result was the same: Chairman Kim Daewoo had effectively controlled Jungwoo Securities, and even after the Jungwoo Group collapsed, Jungwoo Securities would remain South Korea’s number one securities firm for more than ten years.
In the past, he might have let this go.
No, back then, when he had been low on capital, he had even made a little profit by handling the dark business of conglomerates like the Jungwoo Group and building up seed money that way.
But this time was different.
If he behaved the same way he had before, then what would this second life of his, this life regained through regression, even mean?
“Manager Oh Handong.”
Jaehyun set down the documents for Jungwoo Securities and lifted his coffee cup.
The sweet mix coffee lingered on his tongue before sliding down smoothly. He had gotten used to drinking only unsweetened Americano every day, but once in a while, something like this was fine too.
“Please prepare a report on Jungwoo Securities.”
“Yes.”
Oh Handong gathered up the papers and left the branch manager’s office.
“Customer Do Jaehyun.”
“Yes?”
“About Assistant Manager Oh Handong...”
Lee Jeongrok took a sip of coffee, then watched Jaehyun’s reaction with a sly look in his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Assistant Manager Oh Handong is no longer a manager.”
“Did he quit?”
That was unexpected.
If Oh Handong was going to come to him, he would at least have given him a heads-up.
“I’ve transferred him to the deputy branch manager position.”
“Deputy branch manager?”
“Yes. The thing is, that title exists when it exists and doesn’t when it doesn’t, and we just promoted him from staff to deputy a little while ago, so I can’t exactly promote him again right away.”
Now Jaehyun understood what the branch manager was getting at.
“Head office approved it yesterday. We’ll announce it this afternoon. From now on, it’ll be more convenient if you come straight to the deputy branch manager’s office.”
“Does Oh Handong know?”
“We’ll have to tell him now.”
“He’ll be pleased.”
“Half by his own will, half by mine.”
The corners of Lee Jeongrok’s mouth curled thinly. It was less a smile than an expression of resignation.
“So I have something I’d like to ask cautiously.”
“What is it?”
“Would it be all right if we assigned a different manager to you instead of Oh Handong?”
“No.”
That wasn’t even worth considering. If the question was whether there was anyone better than Oh Handong, the answer could be yes. But the person he wanted was Oh Handong.
And realistically, there were probably fewer than five people in all of Korea superior to him.
Even now. Even later.
“Then there’s no helping it. Oh Handong will have to bear it. What does it matter if he gets a little side-eye from his peers, juniors, and seniors? He gets rapid promotion, and he only has to take care of you.”
“That does sound a little burdensome.”
It was the truth.
No matter how much money he had entrusted to them, and no matter how much commission revenue that money generated, this meant Oh Handong would be assigned to him as his sole dedicated private banker.
And they were even giving him the title of deputy branch manager so he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else’s opinions.
“Still...”
“Yes, Customer.”
“Thank you for looking after me. Please continue to do so.”
“Of course. I should be the one asking for your continued favor, Customer.”
“Ah, right. If it’s not a problem, then...”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to introduce one more person besides myself. Of course, on the condition that Oh Handong manages that person’s assets as well. Would that be possible?”
“Oh ho, that’s actually a favor I’d like to ask of you.”
For the first time that day, Lee Jeongrok smiled broadly. It was a smile that came straight from the heart.
“While we’re on the subject, would it be all right if I stepped out for coffee with Oh Handong and also invited the person I’d like to introduce?”
“Of course.”
* * *
Devil in Us, a coffee shop near the Yeongdeungpo branch.
Decorated with cute little devils as its point of interest, the shop was one of the few places in this era where he could get the Americano he liked.
If he waited another seven or eight years, the café industry in South Korea, later known as a country of coffee, would hit its peak. But now, in the middle of the IMF crisis, this was the sort of place trend-conscious young people would choose for a date.
“Seriously... having too many ways to make money is its own kind of trouble.”
Do Jaehyun had contacted the person he planned to introduce to Oh Handong and was enjoying a rare coffee break while waiting for him.
Smartphones still hadn’t been widely adopted, so anything related to society or the economy had to be checked in the newspaper, and Jaehyun was reading the morning editions from several papers with an expression as bitter as the Americano in his cup.
A little later.
“Customer.”
Before long, Oh Handong, who had already ordered coffee and a small cake and was now seated across from Jaehyun, called out to him.
“Find anything interesting?”
“Ah, just killing time.”
“Killing time...? Wasting time?”
“Yes.”
They weren’t using that expression back then?
Jaehyun and Oh Handong exchanged glances and then both let out a brief laugh.
“This is the analysis report on Jungwoo Securities and the Jungwoo Group. I think it would be good to look at the investment portfolio for the stocks we discussed in the branch manager’s office together with this.”
Oh Handong opened his briefcase and handed over a thick stack of A4 papers.
“All right, I’ll take a look.”
“Yes. Please call me once you’ve decided. It may take some time. You can think it over until next week if you’d like.”
“I’ve already decided.”
“Yes?”
“I told you last time, didn’t I? You’re free to invest any reasonable amount as you see fit.”
“Then why did we talk it over in the office just now...”
“Of course I need to look at the materials carefully. If I spot anything suspicious, or if my instincts tell me very strongly that something is wrong, I’ll call and withdraw the investment. But I trust you.”
“...Thank you.”
“So, shall we talk about Jungwoo Securities?”
Over coffee, Jaehyun and Oh Handong went into detail about Jungwoo Securities and his future investment plans. And since the thought had come to him just then, he also casually brought up the subject of Star Coffee, the chain that would one day dominate South Korea’s coffee franchise market.
It hadn’t entered Korea yet, but if his memory served him right, the first branch would open before the year 2000.
After talking with Oh Handong for about an hour and a half, the coffee shop’s revolving door spun like a top, and two broad-shouldered men came in.
They wore flower-patterned shirts and had tattoos on the backs of their hands, the sort of men whose faces screamed, “I’m a gangster,” no matter who looked at them.
The customers’ gazes shifted to them at once, and the two men who had come through the door slowly rolled their eyes around, scanning the café interior as if searching for someone.
And then...
“Found you. Do Jaehyun, you son of a bitch.”