The Return of the Ruined Chaebol's Third-Generation Heir - Chapter 45

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

Regression of a Fallen Chaebol Heir — Episode 45
That afternoon, in the CEO’s office at Shin’ei Chemical Headquarters.
Even as Osaka’s sky darkened, the office lights showed no sign of dimming. Nakamura Kenji paced near the window, his necktie loosened anxiously around his neck.
“Still nothing?”
Nakamura turned and asked, unable to contain himself any longer.
The Secretary General Manager stood with his head bowed, phone pressed to his ear, his expression apologetic.
“We’re cross-verifying information with our contact at the Osaka Branch right now. Please bear with us just a moment longer.”
Nakamura ran a rough hand through his hair.
Until this morning, everything had been perfect. Or so he’d believed it to be.
Shinwha Welltech was a mid-sized Korean firm with the technology but lacking the capital, while Shin’ei was their savior—a company with both technology and resources.
The generous Equity Ratio of 51 to 49 was bait to reassure them, and the Personnel Dispatch along with raw material supply chain support were mechanisms designed to lock them into Shin’ei’s ecosystem.
He had no doubt they would accept it gratefully.
But that assumption proved spectacularly wrong.
‘Otsu Heavy Industries.’
The moment that name was spoken, Nakamura’s heart sank.
Otsu Heavy Industries competed with Shin’ei in the high-purity chemical field, was slightly larger in scale, and—most troublingly—was a shark that devoured the market through aggressive Mergers and Acquisitions.
“Damn it…….”
If Shinwha Welltech joined hands with Otsu Heavy Industries?
Then all the effort Shin’ei had invested in their Korean expansion scenario would turn to ashes.
And it didn’t end there—simply missing an opportunity.
If a competitor monopolized the Korean market, that colossal pipeline, Shin’ei could be relegated to a second-rate company for good.
To Nakamura, that was a nightmare he didn’t even want to imagine.
Click—
Just then, the Secretary General Manager set down the phone and looked toward Nakamura.
His expression had hardened completely.
“Well? Did you verify it?”
Nakamura stepped toward the desk urgently.
“Is it really true that the Shinwha Welltech people made contact with Otsu Heavy Industries? It’s not just Bluffing for negotiations, right?”
Please, let it not be.
He prayed it was just theater to raise their asking price.
But the words that came from the Secretary General Manager’s mouth were cruel.
“……It appears not to be Bluffing.”
“What?”
“Our informant just confirmed it. A vehicle carrying Director Jung Tae-sung and his party was spotted entering the lobby of Otsu Heavy Industries Headquarters. An executive-level official from Otsu came out to the lobby in person to receive them.”
Bang!
Nakamura slammed his fist on the desk.
“Bloody hell!”
His face flushed red.
It was real. They’d taken one look at Shin’ei’s proposal and immediately bolted to the competitor, now playing both sides off against each other.
“If it’s Otsu, they’ll see right through our conditions and bet even harder. Those bastards will jump in even at a loss just to get into the Korean market.”
Nakamura bit his lip hard.
Had the trap he’d laid been too loose? Or had he simply underestimated his opponent?
Jung Tae-sung—the man looked polished on the surface, but he was cunning enough to grab everything worth grabbing.
“Sir, what should we do? If this continues, we’ll lose the initiative to Otsu.”
“I know! I already know!”
Nakamura snapped irritably.
He paced the office in frantic circles, breathing heavily.
One week. That was all the time they had in Japan, and if the deal wasn’t sealed within it, the golden ticket that was Shinwha Welltech would slip into Otsu Heavy Industries’ hands or some other competitor’s. It became suddenly clear to him that he’d been relegated to the weaker position.
“……Contact them again.”
“Sir? But they said they’re still reviewing our proposal…….”
“We don’t have time to wait! You think I’ll let those Otsu bastards put their stamp on a contract?”
Nakamura’s eyes gleamed.
“Arrange a dinner. Tomorrow, the day after—whenever. The most expensive restaurant they want, the most exclusive establishment. I don’t care. Just secure a table, no matter what.”
“Understood. I’ll arrange it right away.”
Nakamura Kenji’s expression grew increasingly stern.

* * *
That night, in the Osaka Hotel Suite Room.
After finishing the meeting with Otsu Heavy Industries, I returned to my quarters and headed straight for the Study Room.
The meeting with Otsu Heavy Industries had been half Bluffing, in truth.
They were bigger than Shin’ei, but their sensibilities didn’t align with the refined process technology we needed.
Every meeting only confirmed that our objectives didn’t match, and then we’d leave.
But as a performance for Nakamura Kenji to witness, it was sufficient.
“Let me start by organizing my thoughts.”
I stood before the Whiteboard and uncapped a Board Marker, drawing in a long breath.
The more complex the situation, the simpler the approach must be.
Scratch—
[Q. Do we need Shin’ei’s technological capabilities?]
I crossed my arms and studied the sentence for a moment, then drew a large circle around it.
“Yes, we do.”
Shinwha Welltech’s technology is excellent, but its stability in Mass Production hasn’t been verified yet.
The veteran engineers Shin’ei would dispatch and their expertise would advance our company’s timeline by at least three years.
“And Shin’ei’s brand name will make it easier for us to approach major clients.”
Not to mention their sales network.
Shinwha Welltech is only a Secondary and Tertiary Vendor to Korea’s major conglomerates, but Shin’ei is a company with a global network.
Their name could be the master key to opening doors at Korea’s major semiconductor manufacturers.
“Good. Being coldly realistic about it—we need Shin’ei too. Maybe even more than they need us.”
Of course, Nakamura Kenji hadn’t seemed to realize this fact at the negotiation table.
He was under the illusion that we held the upper hand, playing both sides.
I’d deliberately dragged things out from Korea for exactly this reason.
“Conveniently, there was also the College Entrance Examination.”
That misunderstanding had become an excellent weapon.
“Now then, let me pick apart their proposal.”
I began listing their conditions one by one with the black marker.
[1. Equity Stake of 51 (Shinwha) : 49 (Shin’ei)]
On the surface, a generous concession.
The structure gave Shinwha Welltech ownership of the joint venture and Management Rights as well.
But I marked an X beside it.
[Trap: Equal Board of Directors & Unanimous consent on major decisions]
“That 51% is just a facade, no matter how you look at it.”
If the Board of Directors was equally divided and every major decision required mutual agreement, then effectively both parties held Veto power over each other.
Without Shin’ei’s consent, we couldn’t even buy a single pen, let alone make new investments—we’d become a puppet management.
In the end, that 51% was merely window dressing to ease anti-Japanese sentiment in Korea and to capture R&D subsidies and tax benefits from the government.
[2. Raw Material Supply: Shin’ei provides 100% support for the first three years]
Nakamura Kenji had packaged this as support—offering to lend them their verified Supply Chain Lock-in to stabilize initial yield and quality.
From the client’s perspective, it sounded welcome. Quality was guaranteed.
But this too was a glaring trap.
[Trap: Supply Chain Lock-in & Margin control]
The essence of the chemical business is Blending.
You bring in raw materials, mix and refine them, then ship them out.
But what if Shin’ei monopolized the raw material supply?
The joint venture becomes a shell; the substance is enslaved to Shin’ei.
Raise the raw material price and the joint venture’s profit shrinks—that profit flows directly to Shin’ei’s headquarters, which sells the materials.
And even if we found cheaper, better sources elsewhere, one Veto from the Board of Directors using “quality standards not met” as an excuse, and that’s the end of it.
“This is the clause that causes the worst headache.”
Moreover, it was the most lethal poison clause—systematically excluding major competitors of Shin’ei from the supply chain altogether.
I set down the Board Marker and rinsed my face mentally for a moment.
“Nakamura Kenji…… I don’t know when he started planning this, but he planned it far too carefully.”
With tempting clauses that would have fooled him if Shinwha Welltech’s owner had been anyone else.
I picked up the Board Marker again.
The final, most fundamental question.
[3. The true intent behind establishing the joint venture itself]
“The intent is exactly what we thought back in Korea.”
[A Bridgehead for Korean entry]
Shin’ei could no longer find new clients within Japan—major firms controlled the market almost completely.
So they’re targeting the nearby Korean market as an entry point to seize a market on the verge of explosive growth.
“They have good business instincts. The Korean market will become one of the world’s largest semiconductor and display markets before long.”
I knew this because I knew the future, but Nakamura Kenji didn’t—yet he’d pinpointed Korea as his breakthrough.
Competent.
“But it’s not just simple Korean entry, either.”
Enter via the joint venture, seize Korea’s supply chains, standards, personnel, and data. When the joint venture grows, invest massive capital under the pretext of expansion. If Shinwha Welltech can’t afford the Capital Increase? The Equity Ratio flips. Eventually, they either absorb it as their subsidiary, or they strip out the substance—technology and market—and discard the shell.
“They put some real thought into this.”
The design was so meticulous it gave me chills.
If we’d swallowed it whole, the joint venture would’ve become Shin’ei’s Korean branch office within three years.
And Shinwha Welltech would’ve been the fool who opened the door for them.
I steadied my breathing and began filling in the next section.
Now it was my turn to set the board.
Ring-ring—
While I was writing out my counter-strategy on the Whiteboard, the Study Room desk phone rang.
I set down the Board Marker and picked up the receiver.
“Yes, hello.”
-Sir, it’s Jung Tae-sung.
“Ah, yes. What is it? I told you to rest tonight.”
-Just now, Shin’ei’s secretary’s office called. Chairman Nakamura Kenji would like to formally invite us to dinner tomorrow evening.
The moment I heard that, a smile spread across my face.
Faster than expected.
‘They’re really in a hurry. Didn’t think the mere mention of Otsu Heavy Industries would shake them this badly.’
Nakamura’s composure was already broken.
“Good. Let’s accept the invitation. Tomorrow evening, and tell them our entire team will attend.”
-Understood. I’ll relay that. Where should we suggest for the location? They say they’ll choose wherever you’d prefer.
“The most expensive place, the quietest place they can find. They’ll be picking up the tab anyway.”
I hung up the phone and looked back at the Whiteboard.
Every inch covered with traps and pitfalls.
“Tonight’s off the table, then.”
I let out a short laugh.
For some reason, I didn’t hate this at all.

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