Free Web NovelThe last time I saw Chairman Song Youngjoo, he hadn’t looked like a sick man at all.
But now, lying in that hospital bed, he looked every bit like an old man waiting for death.
The titan who once dominated an era of business now showed weakness for the first time.
“President Kim, you’ve come. Come closer.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
I walked slowly toward his bed. His face was clearly marked by illness, but his eyes—those still held their strength.
There was still power in Song Youngjoo’s gaze.
“I heard you had a big incident in Pyongyang. You weren’t hurt?”
“Fortunately, no injuries.”
“Good. That’s good. I heard your secretary was shot—no aftereffects, it seems.” frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
Instead of answering, I simply looked at his face. Chairman Song already knew everything.
Of course he did. Even if he had listened to my advice, he was the one who had staked Daehyeon’s survival on making Kim Hakgwon president and driving forward his North Korea policy.
Naturally, many of his people still remained inside the Blue House. He might even know more than Song Chanwoo, who had actually been in Pyongyang.
“How was the atmosphere in Pyongyang?”
“Do you mean the city itself? Or Chairman Kim Jongil?”
“Both.”
“I’d say they’ll avoid any external moves for a year, maybe two. Inter-Korean economic cooperation will be delayed as a result.”
“Hm... so that’s how it is.”
Regret flickered across Chairman Song’s face.
“I wanted to see the first shovel go into Kaesong before I die... seems that’s impossible now.”
“...”
I looked at him with sympathy, but he barked lightly.
“I’m not dead yet. Don’t look at me like that.”
Though weaker than before, his laugh was still hearty.
Once the topic of North Korea came up, Chairman Song spoke at length about inter-Korean business.
“Yes, that’s right. I sensed high-ranking officials who weren’t pleased with hereditary succession.”
“Of course. And here, too, there are those displeased with chaebol succession. You’d be one of them, wouldn’t you?”
The conversation naturally flowed toward inheritance and succession.
His way of steering the discussion to his chosen subject was impressive, as always.
“Chairman, I’m an investor. I look at people’s ability, not their bloodline. Chairman Kim Byungwoo of Joongwoo Group, who walks with me, started as an ordinary employee but rose to the top purely on ability. If there is talent, what does background matter?”
“...”
Indirect as it was, it meant Song Chanwoo lacked ability.
There was no way Song Youngjoo, that sly old fox, would miss the thorn in my words. He only stared at me in silence.
“The problem isn’t inheritance—it’s ability. Chairman, you love history, don’t you? Then you know well how countries collapse when incapable kings inherit power just by blood, and how those kings are eventually cast out.”
At my comparison to history, his face sank further.
Our chaebols had inherited the same rot as the dynasties.
They handed companies to their children, who handed them again to theirs.
“You wouldn’t know. You rose by ability alone. But ordinary people aren’t like that. If there’s a pillar to lean on, they will.”
He was wrong. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
In my past life, I was given the title of heir because of Grandfather’s pity. I knew nothing, and it destroyed me.
That position, more than my ability deserved, corroded me piece by piece until I was ruined.
I knew better than anyone how worthless bloodlines were before money and power.
That’s why I wanted to stop Song Youngjoo.
Because I knew Song Chanwoo’s future.
In the power struggles, he lost everything and in the end took his own life.
But Chairman Song, blind to that future, stubbornly wanted to hand Daehyeon to Chanwoo.
I spoke deliberately cold, hoping to shake him.
“Chairman, I fought bitterly to protect my seat and build my strength. I know better than anyone what kind of thorny path awaits Song Chanwoo.”
“You...”
“The path he’ll walk will be hell. Fighting his brothers, fighting the people, fighting the government. Forcing him onto that road is no different than shackling him with your own greed. Do you want to burden him like that, Chairman?”
“...If you help him.”
He believed firmly in me.
That if I helped, Chanwoo’s path might be bearable.
Maybe so. But I had no intention of doing anything that didn’t benefit me and my people. I wasn’t some benevolent fool.
My voice came out cold.
“Chairman, I respect you. I respect the road you’ve walked. But business cannot run on sentiment.”
“...”
“Chairman, you know this yourself. Song Chanseong is your spitting image. In ability, in drive, even in temperament. He is the true successor who can lead Daehyeon forward. You know it—so why this stubbornness?”
Of course he knew.
He had built his empire by placing the right people in the right positions.
He wouldn’t have overlooked his son’s talents. That was why Daehyeon Motors, under Chanseong, was already expanding.
But now, at the end of his life, he was blinded.
His final dream, the inter-Korean project, clouded his judgment.
“Daehyeon could collapse over this North Korea project. To decide a successor solely for that is your greed, your obstinacy.”
“President Kim, you...”
His voice trembled.
Since Grandfather, no one had dared speak to him this bluntly.
In the kingdom of Daehyeon, he was dictator and tyrant both.
Even after handing the chairman seat to Chanwoo, he meddled in everything, still called King Chairman.
“What do you want more, Chairman? Daehyeon’s growth, or the North Korea project’s success? Think on it. As Grandfather’s friend and as my mentor, I say this even if it’s rude.”
At my words, Song Youngjoo closed his eyes, lips sealed.
I waited in silence.
When he opened them again, his old strength had returned.
He drew a deep breath and spoke.
“I can’t even lie to you. You see straight through me. Fine. The truth is—I can’t bear for my name to vanish from Daehyeon.”
“It will never vanish.”
“No. Chanseong, that boy, he’ll erase me. He’ll wipe my name and carve ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) his own.”
“...”
If Daehyeon erased Song Youngjoo’s name, it would no longer be Daehyeon.
Impossible.
He read my face and chuckled bitterly.
“You think it’s absurd. No—it isn’t. If I were Chanseong, I would. I’d never tolerate another’s name above mine.”
“Chairman.”
“So help me. You appeased Taesan’s man with Taesan Finance. I have no such child. Daehyeon is all I have.”
I understood.
From nothing, he built a giant that marked Korea’s history. Of course it was his everything. But I pitied him.
“The North project must succeed! Only Chanwoo can do it. Chanseong will end it the moment I die. While I live he may obey, but after... huuhk...!”
“Chairman! Please calm yourself.”
His voice shook, breath ragged.
His face went pale, but his eyes still glowed.
“Huff... President Kim—no, Muhyuk. Just once, just this once, help this old man. For your grandfather’s sake. Just once.”
Even while gasping, he would not stop.
“...My final request.”
“Breathe slowly. Inhale... exhale.”
I guided him through his breathing until at last he steadied.
Only then did I sit again.
“Are you all right? Don’t strain yourself. Tell me clearly what you want. Do you truly trust me? Aren’t you afraid I’ll just make him my puppet?”
“Of course I feared that. But still, my choice is one. If only you were my son. No, my grandson—then I’d have no worries.”
“...”
At last I understood his reaction when I declared Taesan Finance.
His expression now was bitter, and my heart softened despite myself.
This was why I hadn’t wanted to see him.
I sighed quietly and took his hand. It was rough, faintly warm.
“What will satisfy you, Chairman?”
“Be Chanwoo’s strong backer. With you, it’s possible.”
“That’s all? And what do I gain?”
“Gain?”
“I heard even when Grandfather helped you, it was never without return. Surely you’re not asking me to help for free, out of sentiment alone.”
Even with a friend, Grandfather made sure to profit.
That was the true face of a loan shark. I agreed with it.
“This may be my last request. Must you?”
His eyes clouded with regret. For a moment he closed them, then opened them to meet mine.
I held his gaze firmly.
The silence was short. Then he laughed loudly.
“Ha! You’re truly your grandfather’s grandson. Fine. I’ll give you what you want. Daehyeon Electronics? Daehyeon Motors? Daehyeon Construction?”
He knew I’d demand payment.
He listed Daehyeon’s pillars, testing me.
I could see just how much the North project meant to him.
“I already have Joongwoo Group. Cars don’t interest me. Electronics? Joongwoo Electronics will soon surpass Ilseong, becoming the nation’s best. Construction? Joongwoo and Geukseong just merged. They’re nearly at Daehyeon’s level. You know that.”
He knew I wouldn’t take those.
His mouth tightened, already guessing what I would say.
“Give me something real. Something that benefits me. Then I’ll be Chanwoo’s ally.”
In the end, I agreed to his last request. But not for free.
Song Youngjoo surely knew what I truly wanted.
His lips eased, he sighed, and he nodded.
“Hoo... Very well. I’ll grant it.”
What I wanted wasn’t money. Nor a Daehyeon affiliate.
I wanted Ilseong utterly isolated in the business world.
And only Daehyeon could do that.
No—only Chairman Song Youngjoo.
