The Return of the Ruined Chaebol's Third-Generation Heir - Chapter 116

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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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Regression of a Fallen Chaebol Heir — Episode 116
“When the CEO suddenly sets up a meeting, something big’s happened.”
After work, at the DK Capital office in Yeouido.
Danny was the only one left in the office, waiting for me after all the employees had gone home.
“It’s nothing major.”
“Every time, you start by saying it’s nothing major.”
I sat down and smiled at Danny’s remark.
We’d been working together for over three years now, and it seemed he could predict everything about me.
“Guess we’ve been working together too long.”
“Why?”
“Because Danny reads me too well.”
“Stop making jokes. Want a beer?”
Danny walked toward the refrigerator in the corner of the office and asked.
“Who keeps beer in an office?”
“Be grateful it’s not whiskey. If there wasn’t at least this, how would anyone survive the stress of handling money? You need something like this.”
“I’ll take a soft drink. I have to drive.”
Danny returned with a beer for himself and a can of juice for me.
“What kind of person worth hundreds of billions drives themselves everywhere?”
“People are watching.”
I opened the juice can Danny handed me, took a sip, and asked.
“I heard you’re popular around Yeouido these days?”
“Don’t even mention it. Lately, I don’t know why so many people want to meet up.”
Danny shrugged.
“Either way, thanks to that, I don’t have to pay for meals in Yeouido. Everyone buys me dinner. So what’s the real story? Why are you laying all this groundwork? I’m dying of curiosity.”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking.
“You know my cousin? Chairman Kang Tae-yong’s son.”
“Oh, the one who was studying abroad in the States?”
“Yes. Kang Jin-ho. He came back and started a company.”
I handed Danny a document. He read through it with a focused expression.
“Seonjin Global — it’s a logistics company. Kang Jin-ho holds 100% of the equity as an individual corporation.”
“Interesting, it’s not even registered as an affiliate.”
“Right. On paper, it’s an independent corporation.”
Danny nodded. He’d seen this kind of structure countless times on Wall Street.
Nominally independent, but functionally a group subsidiary.
“That company is now trying to poach the logistics business from Seonjin Automobile Group’s affiliates. They’ve already positioned themselves for it.”
Danny leaned back in his chair and looked at me.
“So your cousin is using a shell company to steal Seonjin Logistics’ cargo?”
“Roughly speaking, yes.”
“Then why are you telling me this? I don’t see what I can do about it.”
“Because they’ve structured it that way, there’s a risk that Seonjin Automobile and its affiliates can’t invest.”
“Ah, I see. Let me check the capital…”
Danny looked at the documents again.
“Five billion won? That’s nowhere near enough.”
“Right, they’ll be looking for investors.”
Something shifted in Danny’s eyes. His face showed he was already drawing a mental picture.
“You want us to get in on it?”
“Yes. If DK Capital becomes the investor, that should work.”
“Can that happen? The way you’ve described it, financial institutions and other investors will be lining up. It’ll be a free pass straight to going public.”
He was right. Handling logistics for South Korea’s second-largest company and its affiliates guaranteed revenue.
Investors would find it very easy to recoup their investment.
“I think no one will actually invest.”
“Why?”
“Not many people know about this setup, and Korean banks don’t want to take risks. And by risk, I’m not talking about losing money—I mean legal risk.”
“Right. Even if the structure is set up so no one suspects it now, once someone starts digging, they’ll figure it out.”
Domestic banks were nominally independent, but they couldn’t escape government influence—the system was so controlled that bank presidents and financial holding company chairmen essentially needed government approval for reappointment or advancement.
What they feared most was breaking the law. They’d rather give up profits than get involved in anything legally questionable, and to someone standing at a distance watching purely from an investment perspective, a structure like this would appear far more obviously problematic.
“I’ve already spread the word in Yeouido. That DK Capital is looking for an investment partner with significant capital.”
Danny studied me quietly, then smiled.
“Go on.”
“Kang Jin-ho will hear that rumor while searching for investors. Once DK Capital begins due diligence and investment review, we can see inside Seonjin Global completely. Business plan, financial structure, bidding strategy—we’ll see everything.”
“And?”
“We make Kang Jin-ho look only at DK. We keep his investment efforts with others loose, and at the critical moment, we pull out.”
Danny let out a dry laugh.
“So even if Kang Jin-ho wins the Seonjin Automobile Group logistics contract, without money he can’t fulfill it?”
“Winning a contract and fulfilling it are two different things.”
Silence fell, and Danny tapped his chin with his finger, studying me.
“You always sit at both sides of the table.”
“That’s how you see the most.”
“Bad taste. Pure bad taste.”
In this life, I had to win by any means necessary, so I’d laid out groundwork by creating multiple companies beforehand.
“I guess we’ve been working together too long.”
“Are you turning my words back on me?”
“Yeah, I must be infected. That bad taste of yours actually looks fun.”
Danny drained his beer in one go and looked at me.
“I’ve been tired of straight work lately. This is fun. It’s been a while.”
“You’ll do it?”
“Of course. The owner’s giving orders—I have to.”
Danny nodded as he spoke.
“So what kind of person is Kang Jin-ho that I’ll be dealing with?”
“A narcissist. That about sums it up.”
“I don’t know. Narcissists come in all varieties.”
“He’s self-centered. He judges every situation from his own perspective first. If I ask to meet, he naturally assumes he has to. If things don’t work out, he doesn’t think it’s his fault—he blames some unknown variable he didn’t account for.”
In my previous life, Kang Jin-ho was exactly like that.
“Ugh, worst kind of personality.”
“Actually, he’ll be easier to handle. Just stroke his ego and you’re golden.”
Danny nodded at my words.
“One more thing. Kang Jin-ho needs to come to us first. If we approach him, he might get suspicious.”
“You said you already spread the rumor?”
“Yes.”
“Then my job is just to wait.”
Danny fiddled with the empty beer can as he spoke.
“That’s what I do best—keep the other side anxious and keep them happy.”
I couldn’t help but smirk at Danny’s sinister smile, and he held up the empty can.

* * *
“I’ll give you the results first.”
At Seonjin Global’s office, the subordinate sitting across from Kang Jin-ho spread out documents.
It was a report compiled from visits to banks and investment firms over the past weeks.
“We contacted four commercial banks. Two of them went as far as meetings, but the other two rejected us before we could even set up a meeting.”
“They wouldn’t even meet?”
“No. They said the corporation had only been established two months ago with no track record or assets.”
Kang Jin-ho’s expression hardened.
“The two that did meet gave the same conclusion. They said logistics is a low-margin, asset-light industry with insufficient collateral.”
“Did you tell them the representative is me? That I’m Chairman Kang Tae-yong of Seonjin Automobile Group’s son?”
“Of course. But the sticking point was that we’re not registered as an affiliate with the Fair Trade Commission. The banks said that’s the same as having no group guarantee.”
Kang Jin-ho picked up the documents without a word and clenched his fist.
The independent corporation structure was shackles for fundraising.
“What about the investment firms?”
“We met with two venture capital firms and one private equity fund.”
The subordinate’s expression grew even darker.
“The consensus was that logistics itself has low investment appeal. They’d consider IT or biotech, but no one wanted to put hundreds of billions into logistics.”
“Not a single one?”
“One said if we secured the Seonjin Automobile Group logistics contract, we could talk again, but…”
It was a chicken-and-egg problem. He needed operating capital to win the contract, but to get investment, he needed that contract first.
Kang Jin-ho set down the crumpled documents and stood up.
“If we just get Seonjin Automobile’s cargo, our revenue is locked in immediately, and it’s a straight shot to going public. Don’t these money people understand what that means?”
Kang Jin-ho paced the office like someone with a nervous condition.
“I’ve lived in the States for seven years, and there’s one thing I’ve come to really understand—Korea just can’t do this.”
He tapped his temple with his finger.
“Because the people holding the money can’t make bold investments, companies end up like this. Like garbage.”
If this were America, it would be different. Money would naturally flow to business models with guaranteed revenue.
Korean banks wouldn’t even look twice unless there was real estate to use as collateral.
“…Is there any chance we could mention this to the group?”
The subordinate ventured carefully, but Kang Jin-ho turned and cut him off sharply.
“Could that work? Think before you speak.”
His father had already driven a nail in the coffin, making it clear he’d offer no help whatsoever. And just recently, when the secretary-general visited, he’d answered confidently.
“Any others? Even if the interest rate is high, I’ll accept it. Somewhere willing to take real risk.”
The subordinate hesitated at the question.
“What? You have something else?”
“I was wondering if I should even mention this—it’s more like gossip.”
“What is it? Tell me.”
Kang Jin-ho sat on the sofa and looked at his subordinate.
“There’s been talk around Yeouido lately.”
The subordinate broached the subject carefully.
“There’s a rumor that an investment firm is looking for companies to invest in, carrying more than thirty million dollars.”
Kang Jin-ho’s eyes changed.
“Thirty million dollars? That’s 35 billion won for us. Which firm?”
“DK Capital. It’s an investment firm run by a CEO of American origin, and they’ve recently made a name for themselves through the Volta Motors listing.”
Kang Jin-ho had heard of Volta. An electric car company that had gone public on NASDAQ and was driving stock market buzz.
Moreover, if it was a foreign investment firm, unlike domestic ones, they’d clearly know how to take on risk, and the amount sounded attractive.
“Do they have interest in logistics?”
“It hasn’t been confirmed, but there’s talk they’re expanding into infrastructure investment.”
“DK Capital…”
Kang Jin-ho was mulling over the name when his subordinate continued.
“Since it was a name I’d never heard, I did some digging, and they have a connection to Seonjin Trading Company.”
Kang Jin-ho’s expression changed.
Seonjin Trading Company. An affiliate of Seonjin Group, and the company run by his cousin Kang Seon-woo’s mother.
“Since they’re connected to Seonjin Trading Company, it probably won’t work for us.”
“Why? Is there something between them?”
“Not exactly. But it’s said their CEO is Korean-American, so they have a deep understanding of domestic sentiment.”
“How is that a problem?”
The subordinate looked confused.
“Excuse me?”
“Sure, relations between Seonjin Group and us aren’t good, but that’s just family business. Externally, it’s nothing. And they’re only connected to Seonjin Trading through investment anyway.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“Then it’s killing two birds with one stone.”
Kang Jin-ho’s mouth curved upward as he spoke.
“If we cement a relationship with them, we’ll naturally distance Seonjin Trading Company from the picture.”
Though the subordinate still looked concerned, Kang Jin-ho had already made his decision.
He’d have no reason to refuse if they came holding the card of a Seonjin Automobile Group logistics contract.
And if he could also poach Seonjin Trading’s partner in the process…
“Contact them and set up a meeting. Tell them I want to meet the CEO directly.”

* * *
“As you’ve probably heard, Seonjin Automobile Group’s cargo business has been converted to competitive bidding.”
I addressed the team members in the conference room.
Normally we started with a weekly briefing on current issues, but today the atmosphere was different. The team members seemed to sense something, sitting quietly, as rumors had begun circulating in the company.
While the news of Seonjin Automobile Group’s logistics renegotiation being converted to competitive bidding was significant, what hit the general staff most was the rising number of resignations.
“Competitive bidding might look favorable to us given our existing transaction history, but qualitative evaluation means we can’t win on that alone.”
The team members nodded at my words.
“That’s why we need to put together a solid proposal.”
I began writing tasks on the whiteboard.
“First, analyze the bid notice. Evaluation criteria, submission format, schedule. Director Park, you’re on this.”
“Understood.”
“Compile operational data from the ten years we’ve handled Seonjin Automobile Group cargo—accident rates, cargo volume, customer satisfaction. We need all the data. You’ll need to request it from the sales division.”
The team member who received the instruction nodded and took notes.
“Next, Manager Jung and Lee Cho-won.”
“Yes.”
“Coordinate with the Finance Team and calculate how far we can lower our unit price. Run simulations on the Seonjin Automobile Group logistics volume and determine the lowest line we can hold.”
“Understood.”
“And I’ll handle the proposal draft. I’ll consult with Director Park and work out options suitable for qualitative evaluation.”
The team members took notes on their respective assignments.
“The deadline is two weeks. It’s tight, but it’s doable.”
“Team lead, there’s an atmosphere in other teams and the sales division opposing participation in the bid itself…”
One team member spoke carefully. Apparently, as word of competitive bidding spread, people were saying why bother—we’ll lose anyway.
“That’s for the higher-ups to decide. We’re moving forward with participation. Now, we don’t have time. Let’s get started.”
No further explanation was needed. The team members stood up nodding, and Kim So-mi approached me.
“Team lead, you didn’t give me any instructions. Should I just help with your work?”
“No. I have a different assignment for you.”
I handed Kim So-mi a document, and she tilted her head questioningly.
“Research the social commerce market. List all social commerce companies currently operating in Korea, how each handles logistics—whether it’s in-house delivery or outsourced. If we can also determine logistics volume, that would be even better.”
“Social commerce?”
She looked puzzled. Understandably so. The company was in turmoil over competitive bidding, so why was social commerce coming up?
“I want to track market trends. Investigate separately and report only to me.”
Kim So-mi studied me briefly, then nodded.
“Understood.”
Kim So-mi bowed and left the conference room. As I was gathering documents to leave,
Bzzt—
my phone vibrated. I checked the screen to see a message from Danny.
It was brief, but said everything I needed to understand.
[He bit.]

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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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