Free Web NovelI sat facing Han Kyungyeong with the TV left on.
Ri Chunhee’s sharp, ringing voice was coming from the broadcast.
Letting it go in one ear and out the other, I handed Han Kyungyeong a stack of documents listing the people who would be registered under the special purpose corporation.
“What’s the advisory team saying over in Pyongyang?”
Han Kyungyeong glanced up from the papers and smiled.
“At first, they had trouble adjusting. It’s their first time experiencing real control, so of course it’s hard.”
They were people who had enjoyed freedom in the United States.
Not ordinary laborers, but elites who had been treated with respect.
I could vividly imagine their reactions and let out a small laugh.
“But once they got used to it, they started praising Jang Songthaek. They say he listens carefully to advice and even explains things well when they overlook something. At first they were tense, thinking he was a dictator, but now they’ve turned into Jang Songthaek’s most enthusiastic supporters.”
Han Kyungyeong shook his head as if fed up.
Well, it’s better than failing to adapt and losing your head.
“At least we don’t have to clean up bodies. Anyway, North Korea’s currency reform is more radical than I expected. Especially the part where they don’t ask about the source of funds. Did you know about that?”
The main reason authoritarian states carried out currency reforms was to drag money tied up in the underground economy out into the open.
South Korea had done the same after a military coup, when they discovered the national treasury was completely empty.
The aim had been to seize the hoarded cash of overseas Chinese merchants and money hidden in the underground economy.
But Jang Songthaek had proposed a policy on an entirely different level.
Not asking about the source of exchanged funds. It showed an ironclad determination to see the reform through.
“No. I was surprised too. But the advisory team said that if you want currency reform to succeed, that’s the only way. They pushed hard for it, and Jang Songthaek, who was hesitant at first, eventually accepted their opinion.”
It might be a show to prove he’s different from Kim Jongil, but...
Still, unlike Kim Jongil, Jang Songthaek really does seem to have a relatively open mind.
“Still, I heard he wouldn’t budge on the dollar. They agreed on a fixed exchange rate, but clashed over the details.”
I could roughly guess where the disagreement came from.
North Korea had its own rules. No way economists would agree with executing people for breaking currency laws.
“Other than that, most of the economic policies were also shaped by the advisory team’s input...”
Han Kyungyeong went on for quite a while, explaining what the advisory team had relayed.
When he finished, he glanced at Myungsoo on the TV screen and said,
“By the way, isn’t Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo perfect for TV? He looks great on camera.”
Smiling, I turned my gaze toward the screen.
Right on cue, Myungsoo had finished speaking, and Professor Lee Minwoo appeared on screen.
— Frankly, it’s such a poor currency reform that I don’t even know where to begin listing the problems.
Han Kyungyeong burst out laughing.
“Isn’t that guy a professor at Korea National University? If he knew who actually led this currency reform, he’d probably faint in shock. What’s he thinking?”
The people on the advisory team weren’t just American economic heavyweights—they were among the world’s top experts on currency and exchange rates.
Hearing Professor Lee Minwoo strongly criticize their policy as “poor” seemed to amuse him.
“Seriously, what’s wrong with him? He understands one thing but not the other. If you don’t peg to the dollar, import prices will obviously skyrocket the moment you open the economy.”
The longer Professor Lee Minwoo spoke, the more often Han Kyungyeong clicked his tongue.
I pulled out my phone and sent Myungsoo a text.
[Push back properly against Professor Lee Minwoo. I’m counting on you.]
After sending it, I fixed my eyes back on the TV.
Myungsoo checking his phone was broadcast live on screen.
Han Kyungyeong’s eyes went wide as he turned to me, as if to ask whether that was okay.
“Is that really okay? Texting during a live broadcast...?”
“I sent it. Told him to refute that bullshit.”
The host called out to Myungsoo. Myungsoo raised his head.
When asked whether he had anything to say in response to Professor Lee Minwoo’s argument, Myungsoo curled his lips into a smile.
That guy really does have a nasty personality.
— When it comes to North Korea, we need to look at reality, not textbooks.
At Myungsoo’s provocative remark, Han Kyungyeong let out a whistle.
“Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo—he’s got guts.”
Telling professors to look at reality instead of textbooks was practically an attack on their pride.
As expected, the two launched into a heated argument, broadcast live for everyone to see.
When things got too intense, the host stepped in to stop them and turned to another panelist.
And finally, the host brought up South Korea’s currency reform.
“Wow. They really linked it like that.”
In South Korea, bringing up currency reform was basically political suicide.
But by loosening the atmosphere with North Korea’s reform first and then steering the discussion toward South Korea, the host’s maneuver drew an exclamation from Han Kyungyeong.
I asked him,
“What do you think?”
“Hmm... honestly, compared to the size of our economy, South Korea’s currency denominations are indeed quite large. Among OECD countries, we use some of the largest units.”
“So you’re in favor?”
“If there were zero political reasons involved, then yes. Even I think reducing the denomination is necessary to some extent.”
Han Kyungyeong answered firmly. I agreed with him.
“Politicians can’t really push it. Some economists and economic bureaucrats do bring up currency reform, but politicians can’t even open their mouths.”
“That’s all because of the failed reform under the military regime, right? But just because the side effects were severe back then doesn’t mean we can keep things this way forever. That’s the prevailing opinion on Wall Street. The fact that we still have a 1-won unit, but only circulate 10 won and above—that’s the reality of the Korean economy. And even then, it’s mostly used for tax accounting, not actual cash transactions.”
Among OECD countries, South Korea was practically the only one with such unnecessarily high denominations.
If you widened the scope, you could find others—but they were all developing countries’ currencies.
That was why jokes often circulated in the West about South Korea being treated like a developing nation.
“So Wall Street’s positive about reducing denominations?”
“Not that they really care that much about Korea... but Turkey’s planning a redenomination next year, so they’ve been keeping an eye on Asia.”
“Really? How do you know that?”
Turkey’s finance minister had announced °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° plans for currency reform, but no exact date had been given.
Hyperinflation and currency collapse were still pushing it back.
“People on Wall Street all know. If there’s one place where secrets stop being secrets, it’s Wall Street.”
After its economic crisis, Turkey had adopted a floating exchange rate, but a string of domestic and external problems had pushed it into hyperinflation.
At the moment, the Turkish lira was approaching two million lira per dollar.
Among UN member states, it had one of the weakest currencies. A single cola cost a million lira, and monthly rent could run to a hundred million.
“They improved relations with the U.S. by sending troops to the Iraq War and gained economic benefits from it. Plus, international institutions led by the IMF provided funding, so inflation and currency collapse are starting to stabilize. That’s why everyone predicts it’ll happen next year.”
I nodded slightly as I listened. Of course, I already knew Turkey would succeed.
Of all the countries that implemented currency reform from the millennium onward until my death, Turkey was considered one of the most successful cases.
Just the fact that annual consumer price inflation dropped from nearly 50% to single digits after the reform said it all.
“What do you think? Do you think Turkey will succeed?” fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
“I’m optimistic, but Wall Street’s pessimistic.”
“You’re optimistic, but Wall Street’s pessimistic? Why do you see it positively?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions today. Without currency reform to rein in inflation and restore the collapsed currency value, Turkey’s economy has no future. I think it’ll be remembered as a successful case.”
Sometimes I wonder if this guy came back from the future too.
Han Kyungyeong predicted Turkey’s success with surprising conviction.
“So Wall Street thinks even reform won’t save the economy.”
“They think the politics are too backward.”
Both arguments made sense. Politics and economics were inseparable.
Turkey’s economy, which seemed to stabilize as inflation was brought under control, would eventually collapse again.
While we were talking, the other panelists finished speaking.
Finally, the host gave Myungsoo the floor.
— Well, I’ve never really thought about currency reform.
At Myungsoo’s vague answer, Han Kyungyeong smacked his lips in disappointment.
“Guess Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo is still a politician. That kind of vague answer—he’s just avoiding getting pinned down.”
But at Myungsoo’s next explosive statement, Han Kyungyeong could only gape.
— I do somewhat agree with the argument that we should reduce the currency denomination.
From a politician’s mouth—one of the most powerful figures in the ruling party, no less—came a bombshell.
He went on, openly sharing his thoughts on a topic long considered taboo among politicians.
— Among OECD countries, we use the largest currency units. That could be a factor that harms national competitiveness.
— Does that mean you support currency reform?
At the host’s urgent question, Myungsoo slowly shook his head.
— Agreeing to some extent and supporting it outright are very different. As I said earlier, textbooks and reality are not the same. Economists and economic bureaucrats always argue opposing views for economic reasons, but you only find out what’s right or wrong once you open the lid. In the end, it’s the government that implements policy. And a government cannot carry out any policy while excluding political considerations. If we were to begin discussions on currency reform right now, President Yoon Changho’s approval rating and the approval rating of our Centrist Party would probably be destroyed.
Myungsoo didn’t make a firm declaration.
For a politician, a firm declaration was equivalent to taking political responsibility.
But the seasoned host didn’t let him off the hook.
— So you agree with currency reform but oppose it for political reasons?
— You can’t express everything in terms of support or opposition. I agree to some extent, but I don’t agree with everything.
— Then what do you think is the right approach, Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo?
The host clung to Myungsoo relentlessly.
“Hey... that host is insanely persistent. Even these remarks alone could put a huge political burden on Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo. What’s his deal? Is he some Progressive Party host or something?”
Han Kyungyeong fumed, pointing at the TV, but I let out a chuckle.
Because all of this was part of a predetermined script.
“Why are you laughing? Don’t tell me this is all planned too?”
After grumbling for a while, Han Kyungyeong heard my laugh and asked suspiciously.
There was no point hiding it now, so I nodded slightly.
“Seriously? You’re thinking about currency reform? Why? From your position, there’s nothing to gain. You’re the biggest pillar of the underground economy—if you reform the currency, won’t all that come to the surface?”
Even now, massive amounts of cash were sleeping underground in Pyeongchang-dong.
Dollars, yen, and won alike. Cash worth hundreds of billions.
He might not know the exact amount, but Han Kyungyeong could surely guess it was enormous.
“No. I don’t want currency reform.”
“Then what’s this? Why steer the atmosphere like that—ah!”
Realization dawned on Han Kyungyeong, and he stared at me like I was insane.
“If Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo sets the stage, the Progressive Party will attack him, the government, and the ruling party. If you actually intended to do it, that’d be a problem—but since you don’t, you create a frame where it’s the Progressive Party’s fault that it can’t happen?”
As expected, Han Kyungyeong grasped my intent perfectly.
If North Korea’s currency reform succeeded, discussions about reform in South Korea could begin in earnest.
This was how I cut that off at the root.
The most important point was that this play had been proposed by Myungsoo, not by me.
“I knew you’d get it. Assemblyman Lee Myungsoo over there suggested this approach himself. What do you think? Pretty convincing show, right?”
I smirked and turned my gaze back to the TV. On screen, Myungsoo wore an awkward expression.
“That bastard—he becomes a politician and his acting just keeps improving.”
Watching him, my smile only deepened.
