Ilhyeon Distribution employees gathered on the rooftop, smoking and talking.

“Life really is something you can never quite figure out.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know Assistant Manager Kim, from our sales department. The one who got picked by the royal family and climbed up in the world.”

“Ah, Seong-ho Kim?”

Assistant Manager Park, who’d worked alongside Seong-ho in Ilhyeon Distribution’s sales department, spoke to Assistant Manager Song, smoking across from him.

“Who’d have thought he’d end up like this?”

Recalling Seong-ho as he was now — the group’s grim reaper, Head of the Restructuring Headquarters — Park shook his head.

Song chimed in at Park’s words. “You’re right. When he was with us before, he was such a quiet guy, hardly said a word…”

“They say he’s terrifying now. Not long ago he gathered our company’s executives together and gave a talk — and I heard it was something else.”

“How so?”

Song, seemingly not having heard this, put the cigarette to his lips and asked what happened.

“You know who our vice-president is, right?”

“Who doesn’t know that? Vice-President Chang-jong Lee.”

“Right, exactly.”

Song looked at Park, unable to figure out what he was building toward with all this stalling.

Park took a couple more drags of his cigarette and spoke to Song with a serious expression.

“So our executives have always carried themselves with their noses in the air, right? Because they had the vice-president’s backing.”

“Was it just the executives? The regular staff were the same. We’re the ones out there meeting with company presidents all day, so we could never really put on airs ourselves, but…”

“Right. But…”

Park paused a moment and looked around. Just in case one of the people involved happened to be among those on the rooftop.

After a long look around, confirming no one connected to the incident was present, Park said to Song, “I heard he tore into someone completely — Head Kim, I mean.”

“Tore into someone completely? Who?”

“Who else? Managing Director Choi.”

Getting more animated as he talked, Park mimed hurling an object, relaying what had happened.

“Apparently he threw a report right in Managing Director Choi’s face and told him to get out of the company.”

“At Managing Director Choi? Head Kim did?”

“That’s what I’m saying — and that’s not all. They say Executive Director Kim is about to get reported for misusing company funds.”

“Executive Director Kim’s getting reported?”

Song, startled at the unexpected news, stubbed out the cigarette in his hand and tossed it in the ashtray. He figured hearing Park’s story mattered more right now than smoking.

“You know how it is — Executive Director Kim’s been skimming from the operational support allowance the company gives us. Whenever the monthly allowance came out to 100,000 won, he’d always take 20,000 of it for himself.”

“Right. And then he demands we show 100,000 won worth of results anyway — how’s that supposed to work? Honestly.”

“It would’ve been one thing if it was just Executive Director Kim taking a cut. But it became the norm, and for the past few years the other executives have had their eyes on the support allowance too.”

At Park’s words, Song frowned and nodded. “That’s right. I got this month’s support allowance not long ago and it was only 50,000 won. So I went to general affairs and asked why it was only 50,000, and they couldn’t give me an answer.”

“Obviously. Some executive must have pocketed the rest.”

Park let out a snort, looking like he understood exactly what had happened. Then, in an excited voice, he said, “And Head Kim found out about it.”

“Right. He’d have gotten the same treatment himself, back in the day.”

“So they say he’s going to tear the whole thing apart. Tomorrow, Restructuring Headquarters people are coming to our company to review every last piece of documentation — I bet the general affairs people are scrambling right now just setting up office space for them to work in.”

Hearing this, Song let out an exclamation. “Wow, there must be an enormous amount of dirty laundry.”

“An enormous amount, for sure.”

Song chimed in agreement, then paused a moment, seeming puzzled, and asked, “But did our vice-president really just stand by and watch this happen? He’s supposedly the older brother-in-law, after all… and even in the family pecking order Head Kim’s a notch below him, and by rank Head Kim’s only at managing-director treatment. Even if headquarters executives and affiliate executives are on a different level, this is still a vice-president we’re talking about…”

Park laughed as though he’d been waiting for exactly this question and leaned in carefully toward Song. Song looked at him strangely, leaning back at the sight of him closing in.

“What’s with you? Why are you creeping up on me with that sly grin?”

“Quiet.”

Park pressed a finger to his lips and looked around once more. Song watched him with a strange expression, and once Park confirmed no one else was nearby, he spoke in a low voice.

“There’s word that the chairman ordered the Restructuring Headquarters moved to report directly to him.”

“Isn’t it already under the chairman directly?”

“No, right now the Restructuring Headquarters sits under the secretariat.”

Park gestured out the chain of command — chairman, secretariat, then Restructuring Headquarters — and hearing the explanation, Song felt something was off.

“Reporting directly to the chairman means… his authority would be even more…”

“Massive. From now on, whatever Head Kim does is treated as if the chairman himself ordered it. No middleman at all — he’s become someone acting directly in the chairman’s place.”

“But then his rank of managing-director treatment doesn’t really…”

“Doesn’t fit, right? That’s why there’s talk he’ll be made a full president at the next presidential appointments. That’s exactly why the vice-president couldn’t stop it.”

Hearing Park’s explanation, Song finally nodded in understanding.

“If turning our whole company upside down is the chairman’s own will, and his rank puts him at headquarters president level, there’s no way the vice-president could block it. Elder brother-in-law or not within the family, this is the company we’re talking about.”

“Exactly.”

Park wore a satisfied expression as he looked at Song.

“Isn’t it exciting? I can’t wait for the day Head Kim blows those bastards out of the water.”

“Same here. I’ve been counting down the days for those old men sitting up top, sucking up all the sweet stuff, to get swept away. I just want a real company where we can actually work hard and get somewhere. If that happens, I’ll back Head Kim unconditionally.”

“There’s never been a moment I’ve looked forward to more with this company. I’m practically waiting for the day the restructuring finally reaches us.”

Park and Song wrapped up their conversation, both hoping that day would come soon.

Just then, Assistant Manager Choi came over to where they stood.

“What are you two doing here? Haven’t you heard the news?”

“What news?”

Choi pulled out a cigarette, put it to his lips, and lit it with a lighter.

Park and Song watched him light up for a moment before asking, “What’s the big deal? Why are you stalling like that? Did something happen?”

“Did something happen? Oh, something happened.”

No sooner had Choi said this than people came flooding onto the rooftop like a tidal wave.

Park and Song, bewildered, watched the growing crowd with confusion. Neither of them had ever seen this many people flood the rooftop at once.

Choi, cigarette smoke still in his mouth, turned his gaze toward the crowd Park and Song were watching and spoke.

“Everyone came up because they’re suffocating.”

“Suffocating? Over what?”

Choi turned his head to Park and Song and said, “Our country’s applied to the IMF for a bailout. Korea’s finished.”

“What? What did we do?”

Park and Song wore startled expressions at Choi’s words. And seeing everyone who’d come up to the rooftop holding cigarettes with faces full of pent-up rage, they knew Choi wasn’t lying.

The delighted, hopeful faces Park and Song had worn just moments ago now clouded over with gloom. Neither one needed to say a word — both pulled out cigarettes of their own, and, looking up at the sky, smoked one after another without pause.

His hair shaggy, apparently too busy to get a haircut, Chung-seop Jo paced restlessly around Seong-ho, unable to believe it.

“Head. It’s really the IMF. It’s really the IMF.”

Still not quite believing it, Chung-seop said to Seong-ho, “Doesn’t this mean our country’s gone under? How on earth… could something like this happen.”

Seong-ho, sitting comfortably, watched Chung-seop clenching and unclenching his own hand as he stared at his palm, and asked, “Are you happy or sad about it?”

Seong-ho smiled at Chung-seop, still staring at his own hand, and said, “However I look at it, you seem happy to me. Like you’ve got money sitting right there in your palm.”

At his words, Chung-seop hurriedly shook out his hand and let out an awkward cough.

“Ahem. Happy? Not at all. How could I possibly be happy that the country’s gone under? Not in the slightest.”

“Is that so?”

Seong-ho cocked his head and said to him, “Wouldn’t it be natural to feel happy, having made a great deal of money? After all, it’s not as though the country has literally gone bankrupt in the way people say.”

“Oh, Head.”

Chung-seop rushed over to him, startled. But Seong-ho kept his smile and went on.

“We’ve simply asked the IMF to lend us money. Like taking out a loan from a bank. It’s not the enormous catastrophe the press is making it out to be. As long as we repay what we’ve borrowed properly, that’s all there is to it.”

“Still… it’s not like we borrowed from just anyone — borrowing from the IMF specifically feels different, doesn’t it… there’ll be a great deal of interference in various matters.”

“But it was always a problem we’d have had to face eventually. Opening up the financial markets, making the stock market more favorable to investors — isn’t that exactly what you’ve wanted, CEO Jo? Now that I think of it, there’s something else for you to be pleased about, beyond just the money you’ve made.”

Chung-seop waved his hands about with an exaggerated expression and shook his head at Seong-ho.

“Head, please don’t tease me like that. If someone overheard, they’d think it was really true.”

“Even so… Future Advisory came out with a huge gain from this, didn’t it?”

At Seong-ho’s sly question, Chung-seop scratched his head, looking sheepish, and said, “It’s our clients who came out ahead.”

“Isn’t the clients’ gain Future Advisory’s gain too? The more money your clients make, the more fees you collect, and the more new clients flock in besides.”

Still seated, Seong-ho said to the still-sheepish Chung-seop, “I hear there’s a rumor that people are showing up with bundles of cash, wanting in. Word’s gotten around about how much your existing clients have made.”

“This is all thanks to you, Head.”

“Thanks to me?”

“Yes.”

The sheepishness gone from his face now, Chung-seop nodded seriously.

“I’ve simply followed the insight you laid out, Head. It’s not something I did — it’s all thanks to you pointing the way.”

“That, too, was your own judgment, CEO Jo.”

Seong-ho clasped his hands together and looked at Chung-seop. “If my view had been baseless nonsense, would you have followed it? Didn’t you find merit in what I said and judge it the better path to making money, and follow it on that basis? It’s not thanks to me — it’s thanks to your own excellent judgment.”

“Hearing you put it that way, I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

Chung-seop bowed his head to Seong-ho. Then, slowly lifting it again, he asked, “So, if I may ask… doesn’t it feel like a shame?”

“A shame? What do you mean?”

“The position you’re unwinding right now.”

Chung-seop looked down at the account statement laid out on the desk before him and asked.

“I know you’re doing this because the chairman told you to, but if the IMF bailout is confirmed, the market’s likely to fall even further… doesn’t it feel like a shame to you?”

“Didn’t I say from the start that I’d unwind once it broke below 400? The index has just broken 400, so I’d have started unwinding regardless of the chairman’s instructions.”

“Still, back then you didn’t know the IMF would actually step in with a bailout, did you? Or — even if you did know, it was only ever an expectation, not something that had actually happened yet… I wondered if your view might have changed…”

Hearing Chung-seop out, Seong-ho smiled and picked up the account statement. Looking at the figures within it, he said, “My view isn’t going to change. Just because lightning strikes doesn’t mean the sun won’t rise tomorrow.”

“So…”

“Now is exactly the right time to unwind, and if the market collapses once more, that will be exactly the right time to buy. We’re not talking about 100 or 200 million — moving hundreds of billions requires some buffer, so handle it with room to spare.”

“Sell now, and if the market collapses again, buy…”

Chung-seop murmured Seong-ho’s words quietly to himself, trying to absorb his insight.

Listening to Chung-seop repeat his words, Seong-ho read the figures on the account statement to himself.

280 billion — not bad at all.

Looking at the account that had grown from 50 billion to 280 billion won, Seong-ho felt a quiet satisfaction.

(End of Chapter 104)