Byeong-jin Jo looked over the scene — an office that looked more like a crowded marketplace — and clicked his tongue in disbelief. He turned to Byeong-ju Jeong beside him and said, dumbfounded, “I heard a warning from the Head, but I never imagined it would be this bad. My god… what on earth is going on here?”

“Because this is the only place in Korea that still has money.”

Byeong-ju was just as startled. But thinking it over, he supposed it wasn’t so strange that things had come to this.

“I hear even the private lending market in Jongno has shut its doors. They’re saying you can’t get dollars from the black-market currency dealers in Namdaemun now even at 1,300 or 1,400 won to the dollar.”

“1,300, 1,400 won? Even so… the official exchange rate right now is only just past 1,000, isn’t it?”

“It’s still sitting in the 1,000s only because the currency market’s shut down.”

Today, too, the currency market had closed within an hour of opening. With the won-dollar rate hitting the trading limit day after day, the official dollar-trading window had become effectively useless.

Byeong-ju’s shoulders slumped, drained at the sight of Korea’s future looking so bleak. Just then, Gyeong-deuk Lee clapped him on the back.

“Why are you standing here looking so worn out?”

“Deputy Head.”

Byeong-ju came to himself and greeted Deputy Head Gyeong-deuk Lee. Unlike Byeong-ju, Gyeong-deuk seemed positively energized. Receiving Byeong-jin and Byeong-ju’s greetings, he looked out over the packed office and smiled.

“People are pouring in with armfuls of collateral, but do you know what I just saw a moment ago?”

“What did you see?”

Byeong-jin chimed in eagerly, as though inviting Gyeong-deuk to tell them.

Lowering his head slightly, as if it were some kind of secret, Gyeong-deuk covered his mouth with a hand and said to the two of them, “I just saw someone from Sunwoo Group go into the Head’s office.”

“Someone from where?”

“Sunwoo Group? Sunwoo Group came in to meet with the Head?”

Byeong-ju, whose shoulders had drooped a moment ago, and Byeong-jin both looked at Gyeong-deuk with startled faces.

Gyeong-deuk pressed a finger to his lips and gestured for them to lower their voices. “Quiet. They came in secretly — no one else knows yet.”

At his gesture, Byeong-jin asked in a low voice, “Why would Sunwoo Group need to? Aren’t they supposed to be fine?”

“Everyone says they’re fine. Us, Mirae Group, and Sunwoo Group are classified as the safe ones, but…”

Gyeong-deuk glanced toward the office where Seong-ho sat and lowered his voice further still. “Who knows what’s really going on inside, underneath all that talk.”

Hearing this, Byeong-ju shook his head and turned his gaze back to where he’d been looking before Gyeong-deuk arrived. There, the person who’d been standing and talking a moment ago was gone, replaced by someone new, holding fresh documents, asking for a review. The visitor emphasized, over and over, just how excellent and valuable their collateral was, begging for a quick decision before finally leaving.

The Ilhyeon Group Restructuring Headquarters had announced that, before lending any money, it would first verify the collateral offered. Only after assessing the collateral’s value and setting a price would it decide whether to lend. Ilhyeon Group’s standard practice was to price collateral at roughly one-third or one-quarter of what it had been worth before the crisis began.

For the companies putting up collateral, this was infuriating. Under any circumstances but the present crisis, they’d never have put these assets on the market at all — and the price Ilhyeon offered was three, sometimes four or five times lower than what they could otherwise fetch. Yet those seeking loans were in no position to complain. With every last penny precious and time running out, and Ilhyeon Group the only place still willing to lend at all, no one could object to its judgment. However low it valued the collateral, at least it charged no interest.

Watching a certain construction company president — who not long ago had carried himself with considerable swagger — now humbly offering up collateral and begging for favorable treatment, Gyeong-deuk said, “Whatever else, it’s a fact that our standing has never been higher. There’s even a rumor going around the market now that the government asked the chairman for help.”

“The government asked the chairman?”

Byeong-jin and Byeong-ju both turned to Gyeong-deuk at once.

As the bowing construction company president left with his collateral processed, and a distribution company president stepped up next, Gyeong-deuk nodded. “That’s right. The businessmen who visited the chairman’s house on Sunday said they saw Deputy Prime Minister Kang go in to see him too.”

“So what did they talk about?”

“No idea. They wouldn’t have discussed it in front of everyone there, surely. But instead…”

Gyeong-deuk turned to look at the two of them. “Given that the Bank of Korea’s given up on foreign exchange intervention, don’t you think you can guess roughly what the two of them talked about?”

Understanding what Gyeong-deuk meant, the two nodded. And at the same moment, they both glanced toward the office where Seong-ho sat. They couldn’t help wondering what the man who’d raised Ilhyeon Group’s standing to unprecedented heights would say to Sunwoo Group behind that door.

“All right, you two get moving now. We can’t have anyone standing around idle just because they’re not assigned to corporate accounts when we need every hand we can get — go help out.”

“Yes, understood.”

As Byeong-jin and Byeong-ju headed off toward the crowd, Gyeong-deuk clapped his hands and spoke. “Everyone who’s come to visit our Ilhyeon Group today, let me say a word. Please understand that the collateral assessment may take a little time. As you can see, we’re dealing with an enormous volume, so judgments take a bit of time. If anyone urgently needs funds, please come see me here…”

Before Gyeong-deuk could even finish, people swarmed toward him. Every face there wore urgency, each one hoping to get their collateral assessed as quickly as possible.

Watching the crowd gather before him, Gyeong-deuk recalled what Seong-ho had said just before meeting with the Sunwoo Group representative.

He told me to set even lower figures for anyone claiming urgency… at this point, I feel like they’d accept a fifth or a seventh of the value, not just a quarter.

Shaking his head, Gyeong-deuk began calming the crowd and taking their collateral documents.

Seong-ho offered Sunwoo Group’s Vice-Chairman Mu-bo Seong a seat and glanced briefly at the door.

“It’s quite noisy out there. My apologies — I should have met you somewhere quieter, Vice-Chairman Seong.”

“Not at all. If I’d wanted somewhere quiet, I’d have asked to go upstairs.”

Vice-Chairman Seong raised a finger and pointed at the ceiling.

Understanding that “upstairs” meant the vice-chairman’s or chairman’s office, Seong-ho smiled and sat across from him.

“The reason I’ve come to Ilhyeon today is that I wanted to speak candidly and practically with you, Head Kim. So don’t concern yourself with whatever’s happening outside.”

“I appreciate you saying so.”

Seong-ho bowed his head slightly in thanks, then looked at Vice-Chairman Mu-bo Seong, who appeared to be in his late fifties, and asked, “So what did you come to discuss with me?”

Seeing Seong-ho’s composed manner, Mu-bo clicked his tongue. “If I hadn’t attended your wedding, Head Kim, and didn’t know your background, I’d have asked which dermatologist you go to before we got down to business.”

“Dermatologist? Why would you ask that?”

“The way you speak is that of a man my own age, yet you look barely thirty on the outside — it’s strange enough that I couldn’t help but wonder what treatments you’d had done, to look this young.”

“Hahaha. Did I sound that dated?”

“Not dated — I felt a real depth of experience in the way you spoke.”

It wasn’t merely a pleasant thing to say. Mu-bo genuinely sensed, intuitively, that Seong-ho carried far more experience than his appearance suggested.

Seong-ho only smiled quietly at his words.

Actually, I’m about your age.

Adding together his age from that former life and the years he’d spent in this one, Seong-ho’s true age wasn’t far from Mu-bo’s own. But since he couldn’t say such a thing, he simply smiled and let the remark pass.

Watching Seong-ho smile a moment, Mu-bo shook his head and spoke. “Let’s set the idle talk aside for now. The reason I’ve come to see you today, Head Kim, is this.”

He paused, hesitated briefly, then said, “We need some money.”

“Money? You’re saying Sunwoo Group needs money?”

Vice-Chairman Mu-bo Seong shut his eyes tight and nodded. “Yes. We need… roughly 1.5 trillion won.”

“How much? 1.5 trillion?”

Seong-ho looked at him with a startled expression.

He’d already known Sunwoo Group needed money — through his experience of that former life, he knew the group was suffering a severe cash crunch of its own. So Mu-bo’s visit itself hadn’t come as much of a surprise. But when Mu-bo named the actual figure he needed, Seong-ho was genuinely taken aback. He hadn’t imagined, even in his wildest guess, that the man would come asking to borrow over a trillion won.

Thinking his surprise might have seemed impolite, Seong-ho quickly apologized to Mu-bo. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I shouldn’t have reacted with such surprise…”

“Not at all. I understand completely. Anyone would be startled hearing a figure like 1.5 trillion won.”

Even with the reassurance, Seong-ho took a moment to steady his still-racing heart before speaking. “If you’re looking to borrow 1.5 trillion won, you must have brought collateral to match. What is it?”

Mu-bo looked at Seong-ho and said nothing for a moment.

He’d assumed Seong-ho’s reaction to hearing “1.5 trillion” would be one of two things: confirming he’d heard the number correctly, or asking whether he truly meant to borrow that much. At most, a typical person might go so far as to ask what the money would be used for. But Seong-ho was different. Though he’d been startled hearing “1.5 trillion,” rather than asking if it was really true, he’d gone straight to asking what collateral had been brought.

Mu-bo was inwardly astonished at Seong-ho’s composure.

“I expected you to ask whether it was really 1.5 trillion, but instead you go straight to asking about collateral — now that surprises me. You’re clearly no ordinary man, Head Kim.”

“Not at all. I only asked about collateral because I was curious what you’d brought to borrow 1.5 trillion won with. I honestly can’t imagine what collateral would suffice for a sum that large.”

“You’re quite right. To borrow 1.5 trillion won, one would need collateral worth at least 4 or 5 trillion… and bringing something like that isn’t an easy matter at all, as you can imagine.”

At that, Seong-ho nodded and looked steadily at Vice-Chairman Mu-bo Seong.

Mu-bo held Seong-ho’s gaze for a moment, then slowly spoke.

“The collateral I’ve brought is… Doa Motors.”

“Doa Motors? You’re saying you’ve brought Doa Motors — currently under court receivership — as collateral?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’ll hand Doa Motors over to Ilhyeon Group. I’d like to borrow money against it as collateral.”

Vice-Chairman Mu-bo Seong spoke as though offering up Doa Motors as though it were already Sunwoo Group’s own subsidiary to give away.

Chairman Tak-hyeon sat facing Seong-ho, listening to his report. Seong-ho was relating the account of Vice-Chairman Mu-bo Seong of Sunwoo Group’s visit a short while ago.

Tak-hyeon, arms folded, listened to the whole report and sank into thought. After a long silence, he turned his head and looked at Seong-ho.

“What do you think?”

“I think… we shouldn’t accept it.”

“Shouldn’t accept it? Why is that?”

“Sunwoo Group’s proposal amounts to this: Doa Motors would fetch over 3 trillion at auction if they were bidding, but they’ll arrange for us to win it for under 1.5 trillion — and in exchange, they want us to lend them the difference.”

“Right, so they’re asking us to lend them the gap between the two figures… and you don’t think that looks good?”

“Yes.”

Seong-ho explained to Tak-hyeon in a calm voice. “The first reason is that Sunwoo has no real intention of acquiring Doa to begin with.”

“Sunwoo Group has no intention of acquiring Doa Motors?”

Chairman Tak-hyeon looked at Seong-ho, puzzled. “The only ones capable of acquiring Doa Motors are us, Sunwoo Group, and Mirae Group. There are foreign firms too, but… it only becomes their turn if none of the three of us shows any will to acquire it. If any one of the three of us shows real intent, Doa Motors is bound to go to one of us. In a situation like that, Sunwoo giving up on Doa Motors is… hard to believe.”

Tak-hyeon, wearing a look of incomprehension, asked Seong-ho for a more detailed explanation.

Seong-ho recalled his memory of that former life and said to Tak-hyeon, “Sunwoo isn’t after Doa — they’re after Duryong Motors instead.”

“Duryong? Isn’t that the company whose deal with Sunwoo fell through? There’s talk it’s about to be sold to a German firm — and you’re saying Sunwoo intends to acquire Duryong again?”

Hearing Seong-ho’s words, Tak-hyeon’s confusion only deepened.

(End of Chapter 98)