Golden Spoon Investment Portfolio - Chapter 497

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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497. I’ll prepare to participate in the bidding as instructed.

Seok-won sat alone in the spacious Chairman’s Office, absorbed in reading a report, when a soft knock sounded at the door.
Without lifting his gaze from the document in his hands, Seok-won spoke.

“Come in.”

The wooden door swung open, and Na Seong-mi, dressed in a two-piece skirt suit accented with a delicate brooch, approached and spoke.

“Yun Ki-hun is here to see you.”

Only then did Seok-won tear his eyes from the report and look up.

“Show him in.”
“Yes.”

Na Seong-mi turned and headed toward the door with a brief acknowledgment.
She opened it wide and stepped aside as Yun Ki-hun, who had been waiting in the Attached Office, entered the Chairman’s Office with a thin approval document in one hand.
Seeing this, Seok-won closed the report he had been reading and rose from his seat.

“Have a seat on the sofa.”
“Yes.”

As Seok-won rounded the expansive desk and settled into the center seat, Yun Ki-hun took his place on the sofa to the right.

“What would you like to drink?”

At Na Seong-mi’s question, Seok-won leaned back against the chair and replied.

“I had coffee a moment ago. I received a gift of some fine black tea—how does that sound?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Then please bring two cups of black tea.”
“Of course.”

Na Seong-mi smiled softly in response and left the room.
As the door closed, Seok-won, with one leg crossed, looked at Yun Ki-hun and asked.

“What’s this about?”

Yoon Ki-hun respectfully placed the approval document he’d been holding beside him down in front of Seok-won.

“We’ve compiled the necessary personnel adjustments as part of the organizational restructuring.”

Seok-won nodded slightly and picked up the approval document to review it.
As Bluehole Venture Capital had completely separated from Daeheung Group and now served as the group headquarters overseeing multiple subsidiaries including WB Bank, securities operations, and Manyoung Machinery, the company had naturally grown larger, making organizational expansion inevitable.

“150 people is quite a substantial number.”
“With the organizational restructuring, there are newly created departments, and most existing departments needed reinforcement as well, so it came to that.”

Even the Chairman’s secretarial office alone had grown from five people—including Na Seong-mi and Han Ji-sung—to ten.

“How are you planning to recruit the new personnel?”
“Rather than conducting separate external hiring, we plan to fill the necessary positions from our subsidiaries, primarily drawing from WB Bank, which has surplus personnel since we haven’t conducted any layoffs.”
“That’s a sound approach. Utilizing internal resources would certainly be more efficient than external recruitment.”
“Indeed.”

Seok-won closed the approval document and returned it while speaking.

“Proceed with this plan.”
“Understood.”

Having received the approval document, Yoon Ki-hun gauged his expression carefully, sensing there was more to discuss, then opened his mouth.

“With the increased personnel, our current office space will become significantly inadequate.”
“True, since we’re essentially doubling the workforce, it will definitely be cramped.”

At that, Yoon Ki-hun leaned forward slightly.

“Which is why I’m bringing this up—our current office lease happens to expire in the second half of this year. Wouldn’t this be an opportune time to relocate to a considerably larger space?”

Bluehole Venture Capital operated without its own building, leasing three floors of a building near Gangnam Yeoksam Station.
As the company had grown larger by taking on the role of group headquarters, there was certainly a need to expand the office space accordingly.

‘In the current state, employees would have to work with desks crammed together like bean sprouts in a steamer. That won’t do.’

Even in a company, productivity rises when there’s at least a space where minimal privacy is guaranteed.
Seok-won stroked his chin thoughtfully with one hand before lifting his gaze to Yoon Ki-hun.

“Even if it’s a bit inconvenient, let’s hold off on the office issue for now. We’ll have a magnificent new headquarters soon.”
“Pardon? Do you have a specific location in mind?”

Seok-won smiled deeply as he watched Yoon Ki-hun ask with a puzzled expression.

“The 63 Building, Seoul’s most iconic landmark, would make a fine new headquarters, wouldn’t it?”

Yoon Ki-hun blinked at the sudden proposal before responding.

“The 63 Building certainly has symbolic value and excellent location in Yeouido, but since Minguk Life uses it as their headquarters, I’m not sure if there would be suitable space for us.”
“Minguk Life doesn’t use the entire building. If we reorganize the office layout, we could free up four or five floors.”

Seok-won replied with casual confidence.
Watching him speak as if he were the building’s owner, a thought suddenly flashed through Yoon Ki-hun’s mind, and his eyes widened.

“Surely you’re not planning to resume the Minguk Life acquisition you had shelved?”

Seok-won nodded while leaning back against the sofa.

“That’s right. The Financial Supervisory Commission will soon announce a competitive bidding notice for the sale of Minguk Life. Let’s prepare in advance.”

Yoon Ki-hun’s expression grew troubled as he spoke.

“Chairman Lim Jong-myung, who was arrested on suspicion of illegal foreign currency smuggling, filed for a preliminary injunction at the administrative court against the Financial Supervisory Commission’s measure to cancel all existing shareholder stakes in Minguk Life, and received a stay of proceedings. Wouldn’t participating in the bidding carry significant risk?”
“That’s precisely because I’m concerned the court might rule in Chairman Lim’s favor, nullifying the cancellation of existing shareholder stakes.”
“If that happens, not only would Chairman Lim’s shareholding remain intact, allowing him to exercise management rights, but the question of whether public funds—essential for Minguk Life’s recovery—will be injected would also become uncertain.”

The prerequisite condition for the government’s planned injection of 1.5 trillion won in public funds for Minguk Life’s recovery was the complete cancellation of existing shareholder stakes, including those of Chairman Lim Jong-myung.
But if a major shareholder who had openly engaged in illegal conduct and mismanaged the company into ruin faced no consequences while massive taxpayer funds were poured in, the public would never accept it.

‘The government won’t tolerate it—not only because of public backlash, but also to prevent moral hazard among other companies facing similar situations.’

Yoon Ki-hun spoke carefully, gauging his reaction.

“Even if we manage to win the bid, we could end up in a troublesome situation where we’d have to dispute management rights with Chairman Lim Jong-myung depending on the court’s ruling. Wouldn’t it be better to observe the situation a bit longer before making a move?”

When Na Seong-mi knocked and entered, the conversation momentarily ceased.
I took a sip of the tea from the cup she had quietly placed before me, set it down, and resumed speaking.

“I’m well aware that the risk is substantial, as Yoon mentioned. That’s precisely why everyone keeps a close eye on Minguk Life but hesitates to make a move—they’re simply watching and waiting.”

Indeed, with assets exceeding two trillion won, including the 63 Building in Yeouido, and despite a significant decline in policyholders as the company faced difficulties, Minguk Life remained among the top three in the life insurance industry—making it an attractive target for many.

‘Of course, liabilities exceed assets at present, but that naturally resolves itself once public funds are injected. There’s nothing to worry about.’

I continued in a serious tone.

“Acquiring Minguk Life would not only catapult us to the forefront of the life insurance industry in one swift move, but we’d also gain access to an enormous pool of insurance premiums exceeding ten trillion won—which is an immense attraction.”

Kevin Phillips, a Wall Street titan and the Oracle of Omaha, was able to orchestrate massive capital movements and maintain stable investments largely thanks to the insurance premiums flowing in from his subsidiary insurance company.
He had actively leveraged the unique structure of the insurance business—collecting premiums upfront from policyholders while disbursing claims later—for investment purposes.

“While they’re salivating at the prospect, the fact that both domestic and foreign investors are adopting a wait-and-see stance is likely due to judicial risk. Conversely, because of that risk, we have an opportunity to acquire Minguk Life at a bargain price.”

Yoon Ki-hun remained cautious, unable to shake his concerns.

“But the reason other acquisition candidates are being cautious is precisely because the risk we’d have to bear if the court rules in Chairman Lim Jong-myung’s favor would be proportionally enormous, wouldn’t it?”

At that, I spoke with absolute conviction.

“The court will never accept Chairman Lim’s arguments or overturn the complete cancellation of existing shareholders’ equity stakes.”

As I asserted the rejection of the stay of execution application, Yoon Ki-hun’s expression turned bewildered.
He couldn’t fathom what basis I had for such a statement.
Observing this, I calmly explained my reasoning.

“The fundamental reason Minguk Life—once known as a premier insurance company—fell into insolvency is that its owner, Chairman Lim, treated Minguk Life as a cash cow for the group and recklessly withdrew insurance premiums entrusted by policyholders to make indiscriminate loans to insolvent subsidiaries.”

According to the Financial Supervisory Commission’s investigation, under Chairman Lim Jong-myung’s orders, a staggering 3.0864 trillion won was loaned to seventeen subsidiaries and related companies of Hansan Group, which had extremely fragile financial structures and virtually no repayment capacity.
Most of these loaned funds became non-performing assets that were difficult to recover, severely deteriorating Minguk Life’s financial condition.

“Beyond that, you’re aware that Chairman Lim embezzled 187.8 billion won by arbitrarily withdrawing it from Minguk Life and only returning 1 billion won. And to conceal this embezzlement, he even fabricated records to make it appear as though a Minguk Life subsidiary had borrowed the remaining funds.”

I shrugged and continued.

“There’s no need to even mention how he established a paper company in the Cayman Islands and illegally transferred eighty million dollars, then siphoned off eleven million dollars as slush funds.”

The actions Lim Jong-myung had taken were a textbook example of treating policyholders’ money like a personal safe deposit box.

“Chairman Lim’s criminal activities have already been completely exposed through investigations by the Financial Supervisory Commission and the Prosecution. Knowing that, it will be difficult for the court to reverse the equity cancellation measure.”
“Even so, couldn’t Chairman Lim harbor resentment and file an appeal to intentionally delay the sale of Minguk Life?”

At Yoon Ki-hun’s words, I chuckled softly.

“If he does that, he could end up completely blacklisted by the government and never leave prison for the rest of his life, so he absolutely won’t do it.”

Then I let out a derisive snort and continued.

“Even though he knows it’s difficult to win, filing an administrative lawsuit to block the sale of Minguk Life isn’t about regaining management rights—it’s a scheme to use it as leverage to negotiate behind the scenes with the government and reduce his punishment even slightly.”

Yoon Ki-hun, who hadn’t thought that far ahead, let out a low exclamation.

“Ah, that could very well be it.”
“That’s why now is the perfect opportunity to acquire Minguk Life before others jump in and competition becomes fierce.”

Yoon Ki-hun, now completely convinced, nodded with a look of deep realization etched on his face.

“Now that you mention it, that makes sense. Then I’ll prepare to participate in the bidding as instructed.”

After discussing a bit more, Yoon Ki-hun rose from the sofa, bowed, and left the Chairman’s Office.
Just as I returned to my desk and was about to sit back down in my chair, my phone vibrated.
The caller was my older brother, Park Jin-hyung.

[I’m not calling at a bad time, am I?]
“It’s fine. What’s going on?”
[Nothing special, just thought we could have dinner together if you’re free this evening.]

At the sudden proposal, I furrowed my brow slightly but answered immediately.

“I’m free, so sure.”
[Then let’s meet at the Japanese Restaurant at Walkerhill Hotel at five.]
“Sounds good.”

After ending the call and setting down my phone, I muttered to myself with a worried expression.

“What’s this about all of a sudden?”

It was all the more puzzling because I wasn’t the type to call someone out of the blue and arrange a meeting like this.
When I stretched one arm and pressed the intercom switch, Na Seong-mi’s voice flowed through the speaker.

[Yes. Please go ahead, Chairman.]
“Regarding tonight’s dinner with the Seoul Mayor—please apologize and cancel it due to an urgent matter.”
[Understood, sir.]

I withdrew my hand from the intercom and leaned back in my chair.

“I’m not sure what this is about, but I’ll find out the reason once I meet with him.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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