The Return of the Ruined Chaebol's Third-Generation Heir - Chapter 68

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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 Heir – Episode 68
“Welcome, Chairman Choi.”
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, Director.”
Ribbon Capital Office.
Jung Tae-sung and Choi Sung-hun sat side by side.
It was rare for both of them to be summoned at the same time. Jung Tae-sung held a folder of documents, while Choi Sung-hun carried a small notebook.
“You’ve given me the title of chairman, but since Director Jung is still just a director… wouldn’t it be better if you called me by my old title, manager?”
Choi Sung-hun spoke with an awkward expression. These days, he was spearheading SJ Security and managing security at the factories in Ulsan, protecting key personnel, and gathering the information I requested.
“That won’t do. Your official title is chairman of SJ Security. From now on, you need to get used to it so you don’t slip up in other situations.”
I answered with a smile and turned my gaze to Jung Tae-sung.
“Shall we start with Director Jung?”
At my words, Jung Tae-sung unfolded the documents.
“This is the current status of Shinseong Savings Bank. Total assets of 1.2 trillion won, with Project Financing loans accounting for 42% of the portfolio. Considering the industry average is 35%, that’s on the high side, and the BIS ratio stands at 6.8%—just barely meeting the solvency standard.”
Just looking at the numbers, the picture became clear.
It was like a truck overloaded with Project Financing cargo speeding down an icy road.
“The assets are certainly substantial, fitting for a savings bank in the greater Seoul area. The problem is most of it is Project Financing and non-performing loans.”
Project Financing was a financial method where, rather than assessing the credit of the borrowing company, lenders provided large sums of money backed by the future profits that the company’s projects would generate.
In other words, once apartments were completed and sales began, the profits would repay the loan. But after the financial crisis known as the Lehman Brothers collapse, the domestic construction industry had shrunk so badly that new apartments weren’t being built, leaving the extended loans in free fall.
“The FSC is circulating an internal list of problem savings banks. Shinseong is on it. The deadline for a voluntary sale recommendation is year-end.”
“And if it’s missed?”
“It enters the non-performing designation process. Loss of management rights, asset freezes, and in the worst case, suspension of operations.”
For Park Han-su, it was a blade at the throat.
“And Park Han-su wasn’t unwilling to sell from the beginning.”
Jung Tae-sung passed over another document.
“It was already on the market in 2004. The reason was lack of a successor. His son runs a hospital in Bundang, and his daughter lives in the United States. Neither is interested in business.”
It was precisely then that I had once instructed Kim Jong-su to keep an eye on Shinseong Savings Bank.
In my previous life, I had the memory of Shinseong actually being sold around that time.
But with Kim Jong-su as a variable, the future seemed to have changed.
“If it was 2004, that’s when Chairman Kim Jong-su made contact.”
“That’s right. They went as far as price negotiations, but it fell through in early 2005.”
“It would have been because of real estate.”
Jung Tae-sung nodded.
“Correct. As Project Financing loans surged, Shinseong’s asset base doubled in just two years. There was no reason to sell a growing bank.”
Logically, it was a sound judgment.
“What about movements from the authorities?”
“There are indications of informal contact between the Ministry of Economy and Finance—at the level of vice minister—and the Jungseong Group side. They seem to be pushing the logic that if a large corporation acquires it, capital expansion could solve the insolvency problem.”
It was the picture I’d anticipated. The government wants clean answers. One line saying a top-20 chaebol acquired it, and the explanation is complete.
“Is that all from your report, Director Jung?”
“Yes.”
As Jung Tae-sung closed the documents, my gaze shifted to Choi Sung-hun.
Choi Sung-hun opened his notebook. Unlike Jung Tae-sung’s documents, it was filled with handwriting.
“I’ll report on Park Han-su himself.”
Choi Sung-hun’s report differed from Jung Tae-sung’s. The content itself was reading the person who was the subject of the intelligence.
This was why I’d called both of them. Jung Tae-sung was clean and well-versed in both government and financial circles, but when it came to grassroots information, he couldn’t match Choi Sung-hun.
“In the industry, he’s known as stubborn. The kind of person who’s all-in or all-out. When Chairman Kim Jong-su made contact in 2004, the falling-out wasn’t just about terms not matching, according to what’s been heard.”
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently, one of Kim Jong-su’s representatives used informal speech during the negotiations. The details couldn’t be confirmed, but Park Han-su stopped taking Kim Jong-su’s calls after that.”
It meant he was sensitive about face.
For a 72-year-old founder, courtesy would have been a matter before contractual terms.
“The reason he backed out of the sale in 2005 also sounds different.”
Choi Sung-hun turned the page in his notebook.
“It wasn’t just that money was flowing in so he didn’t sell. He told his inner circle something like this: I want to build a trillion-won bank with my own hands. Since there’s no successor, he became even more attached. The bank is his inheritance in place of children.”
At those words, my thoughts momentarily stopped.
For Park Han-su, Shinseong wasn’t a business—it was like a child. With that kind of heart, I could guess which acquirers he would reject.
“Lately, people say he’s looking withered. He acts composed in front of employees, but to those close to him, he’s apparently said that he was greedy. That’s the word going around.”
So he was blaming himself for getting involved with Project Financing. A man like that wouldn’t hand over his bank to just anyone.
“And one more thing.”
Choi Sung-hun lowered his voice.
“It was said over drinks, so I’m not sure how much he means it, but he said he’d rather close the doors than turn his bank into a construction company’s money pipeline. He didn’t single out Jungseong Construction by name, but contextually it seemed directed at them.”
The corners of my mouth lifted slightly.
“And last thing—there’s a rumor that Jungseong has set up a figurehead. We’ve only confirmed he’s a professor with a banking background, but we don’t have the name yet. Should I dig deeper?”
“Please do.”
Choi Sung-hun closed his notebook.
A brief silence fell. Jung Tae-sung and Choi Sung-hun were looking at me.
“Park Han-su knows he’s ruined things.”
I opened my mouth slowly toward both of them.
“He knows that getting involved with Project Financing was a mistake. So he’ll be even more difficult. He’ll want to sell to someone who can clean up his mess. Someone who can make Shinseong healthy.”
Jung Tae-sung nodded.
“What would happen if Jungseong Construction bought it?”
It was a question I didn’t need to ask.
“All Project Financing. They’d take the mistake Park Han-su made and multiply it tenfold.”
I paused for a moment and looked between the two of them.
“Park Han-su will know that too.”
The real battle wasn’t with the authorities. Knowing Park Han-su, if the acquirer doesn’t suit him, he’ll have the resolve to stand firm even if the authorities move to designate the bank as non-performing.
“Chairman Choi, get me the profile of Jungseong’s figurehead quickly. And we’ll need to put forward our own candidate as well.”
“Understood. I’ll compile a complete list of potential personnel.”
“Director Jung, please draw up a list of investors for the consortium, and ask Director Kim Seok-jun to check the status of the government channel proceedings.”
“Yes, understood.”
The two men stood and left the office, and Han Jae-yi approached me.
“How does it look? Can you see the picture forming?”
At the question, I shrugged.
“I can see the outline, but it’s really just a matter of how to dig in from here.”
“So the rest is making this side look attractive?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not worried. You’re good at reading people, Kang Seon-woo.”
When I met her eyes at that remark, Han Jae-yi mirrored my shrug.
“You’ve got a talent for charming people. That’s why I know you’ll pull it off.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Speaking of which, the market opens soon, doesn’t it?”
At my words, Han Jae-yi glanced at the clock and hurried to her desk with a fuss, and I smiled at the sight.

* * *
Shinseong Savings Bank Headquarters Chairman’s Office.
Thud—
Chairman Park Han-su threw the documents he’d been reading onto his desk.
“Huh… what’s so urgent about it that they send official documents twice?”
A sale recommendation notice from the FSC.
If a third one came, it would no longer be a recommendation—it would be an order.
He looked up at the framed photo on the wall.
It started with five employees. Those were the days when he borrowed money from neighborhood merchants and lent it out again to earn interest.
Over the decades that followed, Shinseong had grown into a savings bank with four branches and over a hundred employees across the greater Seoul area. The thought that he now had to hand it over filled Park Han-su with a suffocating sense of despair.
Knock, knock—
With the knock, the door opened and his secretary’s face appeared.
“Chairman, President Jung Hyun-il of Jungseong Construction is here.”
“Show him in.”
The man who entered was younger than expected. He looked to be in his late thirties, his suit wasn’t cheap, and his shoes were even more expensive.
“Good day. This is our first meeting. I’m Jung Hyun-il of Jungseong Construction.”
The hand extended for a handshake had no calluses. It was a hand that had never set foot on a job site.
“You’ve come a long way. Please, have a seat.”
Once both men were seated, the secretary brought tea.
“I hope it suits your taste.”
“Thank you.”
Even though Park Han-su offered tea, Jung Hyun-il merely touched his lips to the cup after saying a word, then pulled away.
“Since you’re busy and I’m busy too, I’ll get straight to business.”
Then he immediately opened his briefcase.
Park Han-su felt a slight discomfort. Offering tea to a guest was tantamount to saying, let’s take our time. Whether Jung Hyun-il didn’t understand the meaning of the tea or was deliberately ignoring it—
Either way, it wasn’t an action that pleased Park Han-su.
“We’ve analyzed Shinseong Savings Bank’s current situation in our own way.”
Jung Hyun-il spread out his materials. Total assets, BIS ratio, Project Financing loan weighting, non-performing loan ratio. Numbers came pouring out one after another.
There was nothing wrong with what he said, and the numbers were correct.
But as Park Han-su listened, his chest grew tight.
It was a bank he’d built, yet hearing it from another man’s mouth made it sound like someone else’s bank.
“You’ve prepared thoroughly.”
“Of course. Isn’t that what needs to be done? I might become Shinseong’s next owner, after all.”
Jung Hyun-il smiled. It was a confident smile. As Park Han-su watched that smile, he thought to himself:
This man doesn’t think he’s the weaker party.
“Owner, you say… but President Jung.”
Park Han-su opened his mouth slowly.
“Do you understand what Project Financing is?”
“How could I not…?”
Jung Hyun-il’s expression hardened slightly.
“It’s project financing. Real estate development projects use future profits as collateral for…”
“I didn’t ask for a textbook answer.”
Park Han-su waved his hand dismissively.
“When Project Financing collapses, what flies out first? Financial soundness? No. People fly out first. Loan officers get laid off, branch managers get cut, and then the numbers move. That’s what happens.”
Jung Hyun-il said nothing.
He’d probably expected to steer this conversation.
Park Han-su disliked that silence. There should be a rebuttal, or a question—something to make it a real conversation.
It wasn’t a silence of reflection. It was a face swallowing displeasure. He didn’t like getting a lecture from a failed old man.
“So, after acquisition, how does Jungseong Construction plan to operate Shinseong?”
“We’ll prioritize operational efficiency and maximize synergies across the group.”
Park Han-su let out a bitter laugh.
Operational efficiency—from a man who’d spent decades in the financial world.
His experience had taught him that the fancier the packaging, the emptier the contents.
The young chaebol heir sitting before him had no intention of building Shinseong up.
The type who’d take what he needed and throw away the rest.
“What about the employees?”
“Restructuring will be inevitable in some areas, but as much as possible…”
“As much as possible.”
Park Han-su seized the trailing phrase.
“The word that always comes after ‘as much as possible’ is always a knife, isn’t it? President Jung, how many times do you think I’ve heard that phrase?”
For the first time, emotion flickered across Jung Hyun-il’s eyes. It was irritation.
The displeasure of being treated as the weaker party when he wasn’t.
Park Han-su thought to himself:
‘Yes. That’s your true nature.’
Jung Hyun-il looked at Park Han-su quietly and opened his mouth.
“Sir, let me speak frankly.”
His voice had changed. A voice that had dropped the pretense of courtesy.
“A major corporation, Jungseong Group, is extending its hand to a Shinseong in crisis.”
“…”
“Before the FSC designates it as non-performing, if you make a decision, it’s not a bad thing for you either.”
“It benefits me?”
“Doesn’t it? Once it’s designated non-performing, you won’t even get the current price. Before that happens, we’re doing you a favor, and I’m being courteous enough to visit you personally.”
“…”
“I’ll say this clearly. Finishing this before year-end is good for you and good for your employees.”
“… I’ll give it consideration.”
When Park Han-su answered thus, Jung Hyun-il stood. His face had flushed.
“Next time, it won’t be me—it’ll be my team. I’ve learned my lesson about Project Financing today.”
With that parting shot, he left the chairman’s office.
Bang—
At the sound of the door slamming shut, Park Han-su stared at the empty space for a moment, then turned his gaze to the wall.
A group photo caught his eye.
“I have nothing to say to you all now.”
A company group photo taken at last year’s year-end gathering.
Over a hundred employees were smiling in it.

* * *
“I’m exhausted.”
Two days later, I was reading through the profiles of candidates that Choi Sung-hun had brought.
“How is it?”
“You must have worked hard, but I don’t see anyone I like.”
A sigh escaped me. If someone had banking experience, they lacked government connections. If they had government connections, they didn’t know finance.
There was no one who fit the explainable choice that Kim Seok-jun had mentioned.
“Should we search again?”
“… Let’s table ours for now. Let’s look at Jungseong’s figurehead instead.”
I spoke while rinsing my mouth with water, and Choi Sung-hun began his report.
“Yoon In-chul, fifty-eight years old. Economics professor at Sungmin University. Former youngest executive vice president at Hanyil Bank. He has college classmates in both the Ministry of Economy and Finance and the FSC.”
“He’d be close with his college classmates, I imagine?”
“Of course. Apparently they go on family vacations together.”
Looking purely at credentials, there was nothing to criticize.
“Jungseong picked a good candidate. Though it’s possible the authorities gave them a hint.”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you—we confirmed that President Jung Hyun-il made contact directly, but the contract and official announcement haven’t happened yet.”
“So the hiring isn’t finalized yet, it seems.”
“That’s right. They’re still in the contact phase. But here’s the interesting part.”
Choi Sung-hun turned the page of his notebook.
“This man has been repeating the same message in broadcasts and interviews since last year. That savings banks’ Project Financing weighting is at dangerous levels, that if it’s not reduced now, a chain of defaults will follow. The industry reaction was that he was exaggerating, that he’s an academic who doesn’t know the field, but he didn’t budge on his principles.”
“That’s intriguing.”
Soon enough, problem savings banks across the country would collapse like dominoes, but Yoon In-chul was a man who was already reading it in the data.
“And he looks more attractive than the previous candidates.”
An expert who’d publicly warned of Project Financing risks joining the consortium? That was exactly the explainable choice Kim Seok-jun had described.
He had government connections and was a financial expert too.
“You said he hasn’t signed a contract with Jungseong yet?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you think this man knows Jungseong’s true intentions?”
Choi Sung-hun shook his head.
“He probably doesn’t. If he did, he wouldn’t have met with them. A man who warned on broadcasts that Project Financing needs to be cut back wouldn’t shake hands with a construction company trying to create a Project Financing money pipeline.”
“No, he might know but still be conflicted. He’s not stupid. He might believe he can change Jungseong’s mind and keep them under control.”
Of course, that was likely to prove a grave miscalculation. The corners of my mouth rose. If that was the case, it was my turn to show Yoon In-chul reality.
“I should meet Professor Yoon In-chul directly.”

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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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