The Return of the Ruined Chaebol's Third-Generation Heir - Chapter 66

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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 066
“I’ll buy a stake in Seonjin Trading Company and become a dependable ally for you. Long term, that is.”
A stake in Seonjin Trading Company. Not a bad offer.
Management Rights Disputes ultimately come down to voting power. Even if Kim Jong-su holds just 3%, it becomes a single vote in a show of hands. Add his financial muscle to that, and he gains the stamina to outlast a prolonged fight.
“May I ask for specifics?”
“What do you mean?”
“Buying just 3% of Seonjin Trading Company runs into hundreds of billions. Are you prepared for that?”
I needed confirmation. There’s a world of difference between words and actually producing the money. The corners of Kim Jong-su’s mouth lifted slightly.
“I’m prepared for that much.”
He meant it. I could see it in his eyes.
The Ant King of Bukchon was ready to stake hundreds of billions—not for a savings bank, but for my help.
Yet an offer to become an ally is merely a verbal promise. It’s not written down, not notarized.
If circumstances shift, it can easily become as though it never happened.
‘I can’t trust Kim Jong-su.’
Rather, I didn’t trust people.
The only thing you could trust was mutual interest.
“Then I have something to propose as well.”
Kim Jong-su’s eyebrows moved ever so slightly.
“5% of Shinseong Savings Bank equity. And one seat on the Board of Directors from our side.”
Silence fell. Kim Jong-su’s expression hardened. It was clearly an unexpected demand.
“……5%?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you want a stake in the savings bank?”
“I have no interest in Management Rights.”
I spoke calmly.
“But don’t you agree that promises are kept when both sides are entangled?”
If I held a stake in the savings bank, Kim Jong-su couldn’t easily abandon his promise.
My man would be sitting on the Board.
He’d know that betrayal could get him caught.
Conversely, Kim Jong-su buying a Seonjin stake could also be about tightening a leash around my neck.
When both sides are bound together, promises are kept.
Structural entanglement was far more certain than trust.
Kim Jong-su’s gaze sharpened. His expression showed he understood my meaning exactly.
“You’ll tie me down with just 5%?”
Kim Jong-su laughed softly. It wasn’t a sneer. If anything, it was closer to admiration.
“5% is sufficient.”
I didn’t want more than that.
Hold more, and responsibility follows. When the savings bank prospers, it doesn’t matter—but the moment problems arise, the blade turns first toward those holding the largest stakes.
And I knew.
What would become of the savings bank business.
‘The Savings Bank Crisis.’
Right now was the golden age.
They were raking in money through real estate PF loans. But that couldn’t last forever.
The moment real estate collapses, savings banks with their necks on the PF chopping block crumble all at once.
If you go in deep, you burst with them.
I had to remain a minority shareholder.
When danger signals appeared, I needed to be able to slip away. 5% was a sum too small to be a waste to abandon.
‘And having someone in the industry means I can move more freely later.’
What I really wanted wasn’t equity—it was a Board seat. A seat where I could see operational status in real time, where I could grasp how much of their portfolio was in PF loans and where warning signs of insolvency were leaking through.
“Who do you plan to put on the Board?”
Kim Jong-su asked.
“Jung Tae-sung. He’s my chief of staff.”
“Does he know finance?”
“He can learn. What I need isn’t a financial expert—it’s my eyes and ears.”
Jung Tae-sung was a sharp man. He could read numbers and sense irregularities. That was enough.
“I’ll make the decisions myself.”
Kim Jong-su studied me silently.
“Yes. You can make the decisions.”
Weight settled into his voice.
“You’re more than capable of it.”
It was a compliment. Hearing such words from the Ant King of Bukchon wasn’t easy.
“It works for us too. Having someone as sharp as you on the Board.”
Kim Jong-su rose from his seat. I stood as well.
“Good. 5% and a Board seat. We’ll sort it out once the acquisition closes.”
He extended his hand. I took it.
The moment a deal was struck.
“But.”
Kim Jong-su spoke while still holding my hand.
“I get something too.”
I’d expected as much. Kim Jong-su wasn’t a man who only gave. He was a man who took.
That’s how he’d climbed to where he was.
“Please speak.”
“When you do something big on your end, give me the chance to invest.”
I suppressed an inward smile. The man was cunning.
I was handing over 5% and a Board seat; in return, he’d slip into my ventures. He was turning my own logic about mutual entanglement back on me.
At the same time, it was his way of acknowledging me. Investing in my business meant trusting my judgment.
“Understood. I’ll contact you when new ventures arise.”
There was no reason to refuse.
With Kim Jong-su’s capital flowing into my operations, my options would only expand.
“May I offer one more thing?”
Kim Jong-su’s eyebrows rose.
“Again?”
“Advice. Once you acquire the savings bank, don’t let PF loans exceed 30% of the portfolio.”
Kim Jong-su’s expression shifted subtly.
“……30%?”
“Yes.”
It was also the reason I was taking a Board seat. To monitor the PF weighting.
“Why?”
“Right now, savings banks make money because of PF loans.”
I slowly released his hand as I spoke.
“But how long do you think that lasts? Real estate doesn’t only rise. And when it falls, it falls all at once.”
It was both a warning and genuine counsel.
If Kim Jong-su acquired the savings bank and then went all-in on PF like everyone else, it was over. In a few years, when the Savings Bank Crisis hit, he’d be swept away and lose everything.
I didn’t want that.
If Kim Jong-su survived, my ally survived.
Kim Jong-su stared at me for a long moment.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Twenty-three.”
He shook his head. A dry laugh escaped him.
“Even when we first met, I felt it—you have old eyes.”
I didn’t answer.
The eyes of someone who died once and came back.
“……I see.”
Kim Jong-su finally nodded.
“30%. I’ll remember.”

* * *
“Danny Kim departed for America this morning.”
At Jung Tae-sung’s report, Han Jae-yi asked,
“I trust you saw him off well?”
“Yes, he asked me to pass along his thanks to you.”
Danny had finished his vacation in Korea and was heading back.
His next task was to establish an investment firm on Wall Street—a conduit for Ribbon Capital’s American investments.
“Coordinate well with Danny and proceed with the American investments.”
I said this while looking at Han Jae-yi.
“No matter what anyone says, she’s Ribbon Capital’s fund manager.”
Han Jae-yi’s eyes widened. It was unexpected.
She had been executing my investments, but she hadn’t been granted management authority.
“……Me?”
“You don’t want to?”
“No, that’s not it.”
Han Jae-yi paused. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly.
Lately, when we were alone, Han Jae-yi had spoken informally to me, but she’d kept up formal speech in front of Jung Tae-sung.
Something had clearly gotten to her. It wasn’t a bad thing. From now on, formality was fitting—later, when the company grew bigger, no one would find it odd.
“Thank you.”
“You’re doing well, so I’m entrusting you with it.”
Han Jae-yi was certainly someone I could trust with responsibility.
“Here are the documents regarding Jungseong Group.”
Jung Tae-sung handed me an envelope of documents.
I opened it and withdrew the contents.
Jungseong Group. A mid-tier chaebol ranked around twentieth in the business world. Their core business is construction, centered on Jungseong Construction with vertical integration in ready-mix concrete, development, and engineering.
Even ranked twentieth in Korea, they were among the top three construction firms by project awards—a powerhouse that grew rapidly during the construction boom of the 2000s.
Aggressive expansion, high debt ratios, and political connections. The textbook image of a construction chaebol.
‘The chairman is Jung Min-woong.’
I looked at the photograph attached to the documents. Sixty-two years old. The eldest son of the founder. The man who inherited and built up the group after his father’s death.
“Things haven’t looked good since the subprime crisis.”
Jung Tae-sung spoke.
“Banks have tightened construction lending, so their funding lines are cut off. They have projects in progress but money isn’t flowing.”
That’s why they need a savings bank.
The logic: since banks won’t lend, buy a financial firm directly.
Their real plan: acquire a savings bank and pour money into their own affiliated PF.
‘And that’s the trap.’
Construction company acquires savings bank, dumps everything into its own PF.
In a few years when real estate collapses, the savings bank bursts and the construction company goes down with it.
There were plenty of cautionary examples.
“The financial authorities are backing Jungseong Group.”
Jung Tae-sung added.
“Their logic is that capital injection by a large corporation resolves insolvency.”
I closed the documents.
The authorities’ reasoning made sense. They need a place to dump Non-performing Savings Banks, and they believe major corporations have the capacity to shoulder the burden.
It was faulty logic.
Jungseong Group itself has high debt. Once they acquire the savings bank, they’ll obviously go all-in on PF, and insolvency won’t be resolved—it’ll deepen.
But the authorities don’t realize it.
Or they don’t care.
Getting the Non-performing Savings Bank off the books is what matters.
“And regarding Chairman Kim Jong-su?”
Han Jae-yi asked.
“He’s at a disadvantage.”
Jung Tae-sung answered.
“Jungseong Group is a major corporation, and Chairman Kim Jong-su is…….”
He trailed off. No need to spell it out.
A usurer from a shadow economy background.
No matter how much money he has, he’s a man who built it in the dark.
He wasn’t someone the financial authorities wanted to hand a savings bank to.
“What about Shinseong Savings Bank’s Major Shareholder?”
I asked.
“Park Han-su. Seventy-two years old. The founder.”
Jung Tae-sung produced another document.
“He started in the mutual credit union business in the nineties and transitioned to a savings bank in 2002. Originally he ran it conservatively, focused on serving common people, but from 2005 onward, pressured by industry trends, he increased his PF weighting and the insolvency exploded.”
He said there was no successor. One son is a doctor, one daughter lives in America. Age, health, regulatory pressure—he had no choice but to sell.
“How does Chairman Park Han-su view Jungseong Group?”
“It’s hard to confirm. But…….”
Jung Tae-sung paused briefly.
“It’s a savings bank he built his whole life. He probably doesn’t want to watch it become a construction company’s cash machine.”
If there was a crack to exploit, it was Park Han-su’s pride and his aversion to Jungseong Group. If Kim Jong-su could wedge himself into that gap—
‘But that alone isn’t enough.’
Even if Park Han-su chose Kim Jong-su, it meant nothing if the financial authorities wouldn’t approve.
Jungseong Group had political clout. Kim Jong-su didn’t.
This wasn’t a fight we could win head-on.
“Jung.”
I set down the documents and spoke.
“Yes, sir?”
“Dig deeper into Chairman Park Han-su. If necessary, mobilize Choi’s network.”
“Understood.”
“And do the same for Jungseong Construction. Gather everything—rumors, gossip, all of it. I’ll filter it myself.”
“Yes, understood.”
After Jung Tae-sung acknowledged, I sat in thought.
Jungseong Group. The financial authorities. Political power.
It was a wall neither Kim Jong-su nor I alone could breach.
‘In the end, I need help…….’
Having reached a conclusion, I looked at Jung Tae-sung and Han Jae-yi.
“I think I have the answer. I’ll need to meet with Kim.”

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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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