The Return of the Ruined Chaebol's Third-Generation Heir - Chapter 28

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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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The Regression of a Fallen Chaebol’s Third Generation — Episode 28
“Huff, huff… There are abnormal signs, you said?”
The moment I yanked open the car door, I spoke to Jung Tae-sung, my breath ragged from the full sprint to the High School’s back gate.
“Let’s have you catch your breath first, sir.”
Jung Tae-sung observed me calmly through the rearview mirror.
I nodded and leaned back against the seat. The car pulled smoothly away.
Once my breathing had steadied somewhat, Jung Tae-sung passed a document folder back from the front passenger seat.
“Following your instructions, I assembled a trader team and have been purchasing equity stakes in Seonjin Trading Company.”
I withdrew the papers and spread them out.
They were daily trading volumes and purchase window analysis charts.
“Just as you directed, we’ve been buying shares very gradually, with no market shock—but the stock price kept climbing. I looked into whether there was another party accumulating shares alongside us.”
“There’s foreign buying pressure.”
My eyes fixed on the BNP foreign brokerage window.
“Yes. I’m not certain exactly what stake they’ve secured, but it seems for every one share we pick up, they grab two. Very aggressive.”
This wasn’t mere price defense or a move to check our momentum—in a situation where accumulation timing had inconveniently overlapped, they were raking in shares without discrimination.
“Thanks to them, the stock rose more than 6% from yesterday’s close. It’s a low-volume name, so the swings are dramatic.”
“What’s the market saying?”
“The consensus seems to be that Seonjin Trading’s recent acquisition of a new ship will boost this quarter’s earnings, but my team sees it differently.”
Jung Tae-sung met my eyes through the rearview mirror.
“Someone appears to be deliberately accumulating Seonjin Trading equity.”
I remained silent and nodded.
Seonjin Trading Company.
This was no mere trading company.
‘The linchpin of the circular investment structure.’
The 91% equity stake in Seonjin Group that my mother held—inherited from Father—was held by her.
And our combined stake in Seonjin Trading—Seonjin Group’s, my mother’s, mine, and Seon-ah’s—totaled just 18.75%.
With this precarious figure, we maintained control as the largest shareholder.
Seonjin Trading held over 40% equity in logistics, resorts, department stores, and a sports group. And the resort, in turn, held 5% of the group’s equity—a circular investment structure.
Effectively, whoever controlled the trading company controlled all the subsidiaries.
‘It’s vulnerable.’
Even in my previous life, we’d faced relentless attacks because of this fragile governance structure.
We should have resolved it while Father was alive, but his sudden death left us defenseless.
“How much equity have we accumulated so far?”
I asked calmly.
“Currently 2.48%. For a quiet accumulation, it’s fast progress, but…”
Not slow—it was far too slow. Enemies were already clawing their way up the ramparts; there was no time to stack stones.
“Director Jung.”
“Yes?”
“When the market opens tomorrow, ignore price—hit the 4.95% target no matter what.”
Jung Tae-sung’s eyes widened.
“Pardon? Buy at market price without regard to cost? If we do that, our average acquisition price shoots up.”
“It doesn’t matter. The stock will hit the upper limit price starting tomorrow.”
“…Upper limit price?”
Jung Tae-sung looked incredulous. A heavy holding company with no good news reaching its daily price ceiling?
But I knew.
Reaching back into my memories of my previous life, the moment they launched their attack, Seonjin Trading’s shares hit the immediate upper price limit for two straight days.
‘I have to accumulate before then.’
There was no time to persuade Jung Tae-sung, no room to justify this logically.
In moments like these, all an owner could do was impose their will.
“Follow my instructions. No matter what, by market close tomorrow.”
At the firmness in my voice, Jung Tae-sung raised no further objections.
“Understood. I’ll put the trading team on emergency standby.”
“Good.”
I drew a breath and shifted topics.
“And what happened with Choi Sung-hun?”
“You mean Director Choi? He’s agreed to come work for you, sir.”
A relief.
The finest intelligence broker, abandoned by Kim Jong-su—he was now on our side. That was like gaining an army.
“Bring Director Choi with you tomorrow. I’d like to meet him and go over some things together.”
“Understood. Shall I take you home now?”
I hesitated, then shook my head.
“No. Take me to Seongbuk-dong.”
“Director Kim Seok-jun’s residence, sir?”
“Yes. He needs to be briefed on this situation as well.”

* * *
Seongbuk-dong. The study of Kim Seok-jun’s home.
I laid out before him all the information Jung Tae-sung had reported and the analysis from the trading team.
Kim Seok-jun’s eyes sharpened as he scanned the documents.
“So… you think it’s one of your relatives?”
“Yes. There’s no other reason they’d move this aggressively and overpay.”
The buying pressure was too crude and too persistent for simple arbitrage.
This was the prelude to a management rights dispute.
Kim Seok-jun adjusted his glasses. “But why through a foreign brokerage? If it’s one of your relatives, they could just use a domestic proxy account. Why bring in an expensive foreign firm?”
“They need a pretext.”
My answer came without hesitation, and Kim Seok-jun looked up.
“A pretext?”
“Yes. If they suddenly attacked Seonjin Trading without any justification, they’d lose the battle for public opinion from the start. It would paint them as unfilial—trying to steal a company run by a niece-in-law.”
In chaebols, public opinion is never negligible. In a management rights dispute especially, morality becomes a critical point of attack.
“What does that have to do with using a foreign brokerage?”
“They can pose as a white knight.”
At my words, Kim Seok-jun’s brow furrowed deeply. He fell silent for a moment, then slapped his knee.
“Surely not…”
“Yes. The scenario is obvious.”
I held up my fingers.
“Phase one: create panic that an unidentified foreign speculative capital is trying a hostile takeover of Seonjin Trading.”
“…”
“Phase two: orchestrate media plays claiming the company is about to fall to foreign hands. They’ll emphasize how incompetent the current CEO—my mother—is.”
Kim Seok-jun’s expression hardened.
“So they acquire an equity stake through the foreign brokerage, package it as a foreign attack, and then come in as a white knight?”
“Exactly.”
It was the method they’d chosen in my previous life.
We were now in the aftermath of the IMF Crisis, when public sentiment against foreign capital had reached a peak. They were weaponizing that prejudice with calculated cunning.
“Heh.”
Kim Seok-jun let out a bitter laugh.
“Then comes the switch. ‘As the elder of the family, I cannot stand by and watch our company fall to foreign speculators. So I’ve stepped in as a white knight and negotiated with the foreigners to take their stake.'”
Foreign-acquired shares smoothly transferred back into their own hands.
A so-called Parking transaction—classic self-dealing.
“And once they have that equity, their justification only gets stronger.”
“Exactly.”
“‘When I stepped in to defend, I realized the current management was far too unstable. Family blood should be protecting this.’ That’s what they’ll say.”
“Yes. My thinking aligns with yours.”
It required many hands and substantial cost, but it was the surest method.
Public opinion would naturally swing to: ‘You’re right, family elders should protect it, not a daughter-in-law.’
And my mother, being a female owner, would face even stronger attacks given the conservative nature of Korean business circles and society.
“Ruthless bastards.”
Kim Seok-jun clicked his tongue.
He fell silent, then looked at me.
“So when do you think I should step forward openly?”
“Not yet.”
I shook my head.
“We’re still accumulating equity. No need to tip our hand prematurely. For now, quietly rally more supporters for my mother behind the scenes.”
“Supporters…”
“What your mother needs most right now are people to wage the battle of narratives. The old founders and executives—men like yourself who once ran Seonjin Group alongside Grandfather Kang Man-ho. Their backing would be invaluable.”
The veterans who’d built Seonjin with my grandfather.
Though they’d stepped away from the front lines, their symbolic weight and internal influence remained formidable.
If they spoke in unison that my mother was the right choice, it would undercut our relatives’ justifications significantly.
“All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
Kim Seok-jun nodded gravely.
But shadows lingered in his expression.
“It won’t be easy, though. As you know, those men—rough, old military types who spent their whole lives under Chairman Kang Man-ho.”
“…”
“They instinctively resist the idea of a woman sitting in the chairman’s seat. Persuading them won’t be simple.”
The task Kim Seok-jun was taking on was far from trivial.
Yet he was the only man alive who could do it—the only one who’d walked those battlefields alongside them.
“Still, it must be done. Only you can manage it.”
“I understand. I’ll break through their stubbornness one way or another.”
Kim Seok-jun smiled sadly, then studied me closely.
“You’re carrying a heavy burden for one so young.”
In that single sentence lay profound weight.
Both his pity and his respect were woven into it—sympathy for the struggles a high school student had to face.
I gave a slight laugh in response. “If I have to face it anyway, I’d rather embrace it than run.”
“That’s the spirit. That resolve is exactly what I admire. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, tell me.”
“Understood. I should head back now.”
As I left Kim Seok-jun’s study, walking out of his house, I firmed my resolve in silence.

* * *

“The one certainty: they’ll secure over 40% of the equity.”
Our stake was barely 18.75%.
Naturally, an equity fight was one we’d lose on numbers alone. In my previous life, to win this equity war, my mother had brought in foreign capital as a white knight.
The plan had been to exchange Seonjin Trading’s treasury stock for shares in a foreign shipping company. I’d blocked that strategy this time.
But later, that same foreign company attacked the trading company.
“That can’t repeat in this life. So if SJ Holdings buys 4.95%…”
Combined, that gave us 23.70%.
“I need to buy more.”
I had to move as well. But buying in my own name would cause problems, so once again I’d use a paper company in the Cayman Islands.
After settling my thoughts, I picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.
—This is Jung Tae-sung.
“Director, I apologize for the late hour. When the market opens tomorrow, liquidate all the stock in the Ribbon Capital account in the Cayman Islands.”
Liquidating the stock would yield roughly 40 billion won in cash. I’d be at school during market hours tomorrow, so I needed a proxy.
“And use that capital to simultaneously purchase equity stakes in Seonjin Trading. Feel free to spend all the cash. And…”
I paused to collect my breath before continuing.
“From now on, it’s a race against time. Don’t think about money or efficiency. Just accumulate equity.”
—I’ll follow your instructions exactly.
After hanging up, I sat back at my desk. It was going to be a long night.

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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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