Free Web Novel“Joongwoo Group’s role in Korea’s economy is too significant to be ignored. But we also shouldn’t reject foreign capital too harshly.”
“That’s exactly why I’m asking President Han for help.”
“President Han must feel conflicted. Why wouldn’t he want to help? But asking someone to temporarily take over a company with no guaranteed profit, one loaded with risks—what investor would agree to that?”
Speaking in a calm yet firm tone, I noticed President Kim Hakgwon’s expression soften slightly.
“You can’t pressure President Han the way you do Korean chaebol chairmen. He can leave Korea anytime. He came here with goodwill—do you want him to leave with only bad memories?”
“Ahem.”
Caught off guard by my remark, Kim Hakgwon cleared his throat.
“The era of state-controlled economies is over. Now that we’re under IMF management, we must accept that we’ve entered an age of fierce, unrestricted competition. Korean companies can be acquired by foreign capital, just as Korean capital can acquire foreign companies. The government must remain an observer.”
“The economy should be controlled by the state.”
That statement revealed Kim Hakgwon’s progressive stance.
“We’re facing the IMF precisely because state-controlled management was too reckless. In a free-market era, excessive government intervention is poison, not medicine.”
Han Kyungyeong gave a slight nod at my words.
Seeing Han focus on me, Kim Hakgwon switched to persuading me directly.
“Then you’re suggesting we hand Joongwoo over to Future Investment and foreign private equity?”
“I’m saying the government should not interfere excessively, whether Future Investment or private equity takes it.”
“I cannot allow Joongwoo to be torn apart.”
His reasoning was partly about protecting the national economy, but it was also a political decision.
“Then you should negotiate with Future Investment.”
“You’re saying exactly what the Ministry of Finance officials are saying.”
“I believe it’s the best option.”
He let out a heavy sigh. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
“Why do you think Dreamhigh Investment has no interest in Joongwoo?”
“They are interested. We even predicted this meeting on our way here, but the proposal you made is simply unacceptable.”
Kim Hakgwon turned his gaze to Han Kyungyeong.
“Is that true?”
Expressionless as usual, Han nodded slowly.
“Saying we’re not interested would be a lie. But Mr. President, no one knows exactly how much debt Joongwoo carries.”
“You’ll need to offer Dreamhigh clear terms before negotiations can happen.”
Kim Hakgwon frowned but didn’t argue further.
After a moment, he called his chief of staff.
“You called, sir?”
“What’s Joongwoo Group’s actual debt?”
The chief of staff hesitated, glancing at us.
“Speak freely.”
“...It’s estimated to be around 50 trillion won.”
Kim Hakgwon’s expression faltered briefly at the enormous figure, but he quickly regained composure.
“What about domestic debt, excluding foreign debt?”
“Roughly 27 trillion won.”
After thinking for a moment, Kim Hakgwon finally spoke.
“We can’t forgive foreign debt, but we can try to write off as much of the domestic financial debt as possible. In exchange, will you keep ownership but let Koreans manage the company?”
Han Kyungyeong pretended to hesitate before replying.
“I can’t give you an immediate answer. I’ll need to contact the U.S. first. I’ll respond as soon as possible.”
“Please do.”
The meeting ended just as I had expected.
* * *
After Han and I left, Kim Hakgwon spoke quietly to his chief of staff.
“There’s something off about Kim Muhyuk. Have the NIS Director look into him thoroughly.”
“Yes, sir. But isn’t he just a guy who inherited Chairman Cheon’s fortune?”
Kim Hakgwon shook his head.
“No. Han Kyungyeong is clearly wary of him. Do you think I wouldn’t notice that after all my years in politics? Whether big or small, Kim Muhyuk has a hold over Han. Or maybe he has ties to Dreamhigh’s real owners. Contact the U.S. Embassy too.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Make sure you keep it quiet. Don’t upset President Han. Focus solely on Kim Muhyuk—dig up everything about him.”
“Yes, sir.”
With decades of political instinct, Kim Hakgwon was sure Kim Muhyuk was hiding something.
“Tomorrow, meet with the creditor banks and find out Joongwoo Group’s total debt. We need to know how much we can write off.”
“Are you planning to give it to Dreamhigh?”
Kim Hakgwon nodded.
“Future Investment is too risky. Their funds are too opaque. Didn’t the NIS say they couldn’t even trace it?”
“Yes. We only confirmed that five offshore companies share the stakes. The actual investors remain unknown.”
Kim Hakgwon sighed.
“There’s no way to tell if that money is Chinese, Japanese, or even North Korean. But Dreamhigh is an American-based firm.”
It sounded like he was reassuring himself.
“Let’s wait for their answer. Prepare everything in the meantime. I didn’t expect Chairman Park to end up like this. Just this spring, he swore there were no issues after acquiring Yongsang Motors...”
They say you can read the depths of water, but never a person’s heart.
Kim Hakgwon had no one to blame but himself for his misplaced trust.
* * *
“What do you think?”
“About Joongwoo Group? Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“Why bother buying a mountain of debt? You can make more just investing in stocks and currency. If you need a company, there are better, healthier ones in the U.S. Why bother with a Korean company?”
Han Kyungyeong didn’t fully understand the power of Korean chaebols.
He had spent more time in the U.S. than in Korea—he saw Korea through an American lens.
“In Korea, being a chaebol isn’t just about having money. Ilseong, Daehyeon—most chaebols make up Korea’s upper class.”
“I know that. But isn’t the IMF’s ultimate goal to dismantle Korean chaebols anyway?”
“That’s nearly impossible. To the U.S., chaebols may seem unfair, but in Korea, they’re untouchable. Unless Korea is defeated in war like Japan was, they won’t be dismantled.”
“Hmm...”
“The chaebol title is crucial here. That’s why I want to secure it first.”
Han nodded.
“Alright. If that’s what you think, we’ll do it. But with 50 trillion won in debt, how much can we expect to have forgiven?”
“Probably more than half. But I’ve been thinking—we should acquire it while taking on all the debt.”
“What? Why?”
“Use the debt as an excuse to push through capital reduction and delist core affiliates voluntarily.”
Han mentally calculated, then shook his head.
“That’s not simple.”
“We have experts. Complexity isn’t a problem if it’s cheaper. Make that our condition: we’ll voluntarily delist, but we won’t move headquarters overseas, and we’ll choose executives from Joongwoo’s current leadership.”
“Even if it doesn’t meet delisting requirements?”
“Exactly. I’ll secure as many shares as possible, but some will resist ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) to the end.”
“Excluding Chairman Park Daeho’s related parties and domestic financial institutions, I’d guess 20–30% of shares are publicly traded.”
“Probably less. I already hold a lot, and Eva’s secured plenty too. The problem is the shares held by private equity, but negotiate and buy them at a premium. If we announce a capital reduction, 1.5 times market price should convince them.”
For voluntary delisting, the majority shareholder needed to hold 95% of shares.
Even with open-market purchases, most Joongwoo affiliates’ shares were institutionally held—it wouldn’t be easy.
“Offer 100 won for acquisition, but with the condition we take on all the debt. Work out the details with the experts.”
“Got it.”
As we left the Blue House, Han and I fell silent, each lost in thought.
Two weeks later, after extensive discussions with accounting experts in the U.S. and Korea, Han decided to proceed with the acquisition, debt and all.
Joongwoo’s liabilities had already exceeded its capital base, making debt forgiveness feasible.
“Leave the rest to me. The experts know better than I do.”
—“Alright. I’ll contact you after negotiations with the government.”
After ending the call, I turned to Chief Ma, smiling.
“How many people have arrived?”
“We’ve brought administrative staff and one security team for immediate protection.”
“Just one team?”
“Yes, ten men.”
I tilted my head.
“Isn’t that too few?”
“This team is exclusively for your personal security. They’re the best—Black Bear’s elite. As for your grandmother, we’ll hire local Korean security. Foreigners aren’t ideal for her.”
That made sense—entrusting my grandmother’s safety to foreigners felt wrong.
“When will the domestic team be ready?”
“The recruitment notice is already out. The team leader will personally test candidates once the first team arrives. Everything will be ready within a month.”
I nodded.
“Your men are guarding me for now?”
“Yes, stationed next door. They’re keeping a distance so as not to inconvenience you.”
“No suspicious movements lately?”
“None since that incident.”
“Stay alert. They’re already here in Korea.”
“Yes, sir.”
I was confident about winning financially, but desperation might drive them to attack people close to me. Preparation was essential.
“What about the investigation into yakuza groups run by Zainichi Koreans in Japan?”
“We checked. Most are affiliated with the Yamaguchi-gumi. They’re deeply tied to politics—defying them won’t be easy.”
“Hmm...”
Chief Ma then suggested:
“Instead of recruiting a Zainichi-run group, why not trigger a split within Yamaguchi-gumi? There are plenty of factions.”
“You have a method?”
“We’ve heard of rivalries with the current boss. Supporting one of the underbosses could work.”
I fell silent, thinking.
“Instigating internal conflict...”
Then I remembered—
A few years from now, Yamaguchi-gumi would split into two.
“Go with that. Find out which faction we should support to ensure a clean break. The succession issue is already causing tension.”
“Understood. Should we make contact?”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“In Japan, money talks.”
“Use as much as you need. Get them to split.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Providing funding would make them move sooner rather than later.
“You’ll handle this personally. Spend whatever it takes. Japan will be ours to strip bare too.”
Japan was in crisis as well.
Old companies collapsing, securities firms and banks going bankrupt.
Though they survived each crisis with U.S. dollars, their stability was fragile.
Just then, my phone rang.
“Yes, this is Kim Muhyuk.”
—“Mr. Kim Muhyuk? Pleasure to speak with you.”
“Who’s this?”
—“Watanabe Saoru.”
The voice spoke English.
I instantly knew who it was, but feigned ignorance.
“Never heard the name.”
—“I’m starting a new business in Myeongdong. I’d like to meet.”
What the hell is this bastard up to now?
<The President’s Suspicion – End>
