Coming into the study, Do-beom saw the room thick with smoke, opened the window to let it clear, and came over to where Tak-hyeon sat.

“Chairman. What did Head Kim have to say?”

“He said not to give money to either one.”

“Not support either side?”

Do-beom wore a puzzled look, as if it were unexpected.

Seeing the expression on his face, Tak-hyeon curled the corner of his mouth up. “And do you know what else that fellow said?”

“What did he say?”

“That the money’s given to secure help — but since both sides will end up coming to ask us for help in the end, there’s no need to give them money at all.”

“What does that…?”

Do-beom wore a look of disbelief.

Seeing his face again, Tak-hyeon smiled. “Right. I made just about the same face you’re making now.”

Having said it, Tak-hyeon rose from his seat. He put a cigarette to his lips and walked toward the window Do-beom had opened. Warm sunlight and a cool breeze came in through the open window, driving out the smell of smoke and bringing a refreshing feeling into the study.

Looking out at the yard, alive with fully bloomed green leaves, Tak-hyeon asked Do-beom, still facing the window, “What’s the state of our country’s economy right now?”

Receiving reports from the secretariat every week, Tak-hyeon could hardly not know. Do-beom realized the question was asking for his own subjective view, and walked closer to Tak-hyeon as he answered.

“The turmoil stemming from the Dubo Group and Bumi Group seems to have been contained to some degree by now, so on the surface it looks all right, but…”

“Hoo… you mean underneath, it’s not?”

Tak-hyeon blew smoke out the window and turned his head to look at Do-beom.

Bowing his head slightly, Do-beom spoke in a somewhat troubled voice. “Nothing is certain.”

“You know I’m not asking you for certainty. Just tell me. How does it look to you?”

At Tak-hyeon’s words, Do-beom lifted his lowered head and spoke carefully. “I don’t think Korea will come to harm from internal problems. But if an external problem strikes…”

Do-beom trailed off. He thought it too low a possibility to voice. But Tak-hyeon found the low-probability talk interesting.

“Just say it. If a problem strikes from outside, what do you think happens?”

“…Jaei Bank and the other banks are refusing to extend loans, clearing out bad debt. But raising funds from abroad remains difficult. Interest rates aren’t falling, they keep rising, and the exchange rate isn’t stable either. There’s even talk now that it might soon break 1,000 won.”

Do-beom paused a moment, let out a deep sigh, and said to Tak-hyeon, “In a situation like this, if a crisis strikes from abroad, I think… it could all collapse like dominoes.”

“Right. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Tak-hyeon, showing satisfaction rather than alarm at Do-beom’s words, turned his head back to look out the window. “How much is my slush fund deposited in domestic banks?”

At Tak-hyeon’s words, Do-beom, startled, glanced back at the door. Then he hurried to Tak-hyeon’s side and, closing the window, said carefully, “Chairman. Someone might hear…”

“It’s stuffy, so let’s not close the window.”

Tak-hyeon opened the window Do-beom had closed and blew cigarette smoke out through it. “It’s fine, just tell me. I want to hear it now.”

Do-beom was momentarily flustered at Tak-hyeon telling him to speak of it right there in the study. Talk related to slush funds was normally strictly confidential, held in conversation only in the underground chamber, with the related records kept there as well. More than anything, Tak-hyeon never usually brought up the subject of his slush fund at all — his belief being that the more it was spoken of, the more chance it had of reaching other ears. Yet today he’d raised the matter of the slush fund right in the study with the window open, and Do-beom couldn’t help but be startled.

Flustered a moment at something happening for the first time in his life, Do-beom quickly gathered himself and answered in as low a voice as he could. “Currently, 50 billion at Jaei Bank, 47 billion at Dou Bank…”

“Just tell me the total.”

Tak-hyeon spoke as if even hearing it broken down was a bother.

“…A total of 270 billion is deposited across domestic banks. And in bonds…”

“That’s enough.”

Facing the window, Tak-hyeon waved off hearing the rest and gave Do-beom an instruction. “Take the slush funds sitting in domestic banks and move them, little by little, to a Swiss bank.”

“All of it, do you mean?!”

“Yes. All of it.”

Tak-hyeon, who’d been looking out the window, turned his head to look at Do-beom. “If the wave Kim speaks of really does crash over Korea, what do you think happens to the slush funds sitting in domestic banks?”

“Chairman, surely… do you truly believe the wave Head Kim speaks of is really coming?”

As Tak-hyeon held out his finished cigarette butt, Do-beom brought over the ashtray.

“Ever since the war, Korea has grown without pause, never resting. And it’s even joined the OECD, that so-called gathering of advanced nations. But how long can it keep growing like this? The world I’ve lived in isn’t so easy. There always comes a moment when it turns. Like that cigarette butt — a day comes when there’s no more of the body left to burn. That’s the world as I’ve come to feel it.”

Do-beom looked down at the cigarette butt as he listened to Tak-hyeon. If the cigarette butt were Korea, it meant Korea now had nothing left but the filter.

Do-beom couldn’t erase his flustered expression, and Tak-hyeon gave him an instruction. “If the banks go under, money and everything else could be left with nothing at all.”

“Would the banks really go so far as to fail…? Isn’t that… the worst-case scenario?”

Looking at the cigarette butt, Do-beom asked Tak-hyeon in a voice as flustered as his face.

“Even if the banks don’t fail, if the wave Kim speaks of does strike, mergers between banks will be unavoidable. And if that happens, the money I’ve stashed inside them could come to light. In the end, I’d stand at a fork in the road — either expose that money to the world and take the finger-pointing, or give it up.”

As if the thought of that situation had struck him mid-sentence, Tak-hyeon gave his head a slight shake. “That must never be allowed to happen.”

Tak-hyeon shut his mouth firmly, showing an iron resolve never to face that situation.

Feeling Tak-hyeon’s resolve, Do-beom asked carefully, “Chairman. Then by when shall I have it all moved?”

Since the slush fund wasn’t a trivial sum, it couldn’t be moved all at once. And with it spread across several banks besides, the process wasn’t simple either.

“Match the pace of clearing the slush fund to Kim’s pace.”

“Sorry?”

Having expected a specific date, Do-beom, at the unexpected answer, couldn’t for a moment grasp what Tak-hyeon meant.

Tak-hyeon closed the window, laid a hand on Do-beom’s shoulder, and said, “Time it so that all the slush funds are moved by the time the restructuring is finished. Because the day Kim finishes the restructuring will be right before the great wave crashes over Korea.”

Only then understanding what Tak-hyeon meant by matching Seong-ho’s pace, Do-beom looked at him with startled eyes. He felt that Tak-hyeon trusted Seong-ho even more than he’d supposed.

He’s not doing this on the off-chance Seong-ho’s words might be right. He’s… simply trusting him.

Though Tak-hyeon hadn’t said it outright or admitted it, Do-beom came to understand just how much he trusted Seong-ho.

Once the noisy Sunday meal wrapped up, Seong-ho and Gyeong-eun returned to their room. Seeing her not say a word the whole way back to the room, Seong-ho asked, puzzled, “Did something happen?”

At his gentle question, Gyeong-eun nearly burst into tears. Seeing her face on the verge of crying, Seong-ho took her hand and asked, “Did someone say something to you while I was in the study? Did Brother or my sister-in-law say something?”

“It’s not that…”

Hesitating a moment, Gyeong-eun told Seong-ho what had happened at the table. As she spoke, Seong-ho’s expression, serious at first, gradually eased as the story went on. Once he’d heard it all, he patted her hand and said, “I thought something serious had happened — this is nothing much. Is it the first day your mother’s disliked me?”

“Still, this time was too much. Dad’s the one who called you in — why blame you for that?”

“She might see it that way. She might think second brother and my sister-in-law getting thrown out of the company was because of me.”

“They got themselves thrown out from their own blunders — why is that your fault? Honestly, your problem is that your heart’s too generous.”

At her words, Seong-ho only smiled without a word. It was Tak-hyeon’s decision to throw the two of them out, and it was true the two of them had acted in ways that led to that decision. But it could also be said that it was Seong-ho who’d created the situation that made it happen. Not knowing this, Gyeong-eun shook her head firmly and said, “You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sure my brother and sister, even Mom, all know it. There’s just no one else for them to blame for getting scolded by Dad, so they blame you instead.”

Thinking it groundless needling, Gyeong-eun wrinkled her nose. “Thrown out of the company — do you think that’s forever? Once time passes, Dad will call them back… and my brother and sister must know that too. That’s why they’re staying quiet about it. The problem is Mom… She just dislikes you and wants to pick a fight, that’s all it is.”

Having told Seong-ho about it, Gyeong-eun’s heart seemed a good deal lighter than before. Firming her lips as if she’d made up her mind, she slowly spoke. “I don’t think this will do. Let’s move out and live on our own.”

“Move out?”

“Yes. If we stay here, you might wither away, Seong-ho.”

Of course, contrary to Gyeong-eun’s worry, Seong-ho felt nothing of the sort. Compared to all he’d been through in that former life, this barely counted as having started. But she, not knowing that, spoke to him with an even more resolute face. “Let’s move out and live on our own. And like my brother and sister, let’s come to Pyeongchang-dong only once a week. Skipping it now and then when there’s a business trip or something else going on.”

“Won’t you feel bad about it, Gyeong-eun?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Gyeong-eun even clenched her fists as she said it. “I hate seeing you stressed out by situations like this. Let’s move out and enjoy our newlywed life just the two of us. All right?”

Seong-ho felt his heart warm at the sight of her thinking of him this way. “All right. Let’s do that.”

He nodded and answered that he’d do as she said.

Seems I’ve earned the chairman’s trust too, so there shouldn’t be any problem living apart now.

He didn’t think living separately would tear down the trust he’d built up so far. If that was so, then living out on their own, as Gyeong-eun suggested, seemed a good choice too. And then a good use for the situation occurred to him.

“But don’t tell them right away. Only when I say it’s time — that’s when we’ll bring it up.”

“We’ll bring up moving out when you say it’s time?”

“Yes. Is that all right with you?”

At his words, Gyeong-eun nodded slowly and said, “That’s no problem at all. But can you tell me why?”

Seong-ho smiled and answered, “Won’t your father and mother be terribly lonely once we move out? So I’d like to find someone to move in and live with them in our place.”

“You want to find a family to come live in Pyeongchang-dong in our place?”

“Yes. Once one of your brothers or your sister decides to move in, that’s when we’ll move out. I think it’s right to see that through before we leave.”

At his words, Gyeong-eun, seeming moved, embraced him. “I don’t know why Mom hates you like this. Where would she find a son-in-law like you… Thank you. For caring about my parents this much, even now.”

“Not at all. This is only something I ought to do too.”

Seong-ho held Gyeong-eun and stroked her back. On his face, as he embraced her, sat a smile heavy with meaning.

(End of Chapter 85)