[Daehwa Group goes to Yoo Ha-yeon, and a few other chaebol groups go to Yoo Jin-ha]
To summarize briefly, that was how the negotiation with Yoo Jin-ha ended.
“Hmm... But doesn’t that seem a little strange? That... young lady’s uncle. There’s no proper reasoning for him to take over other groups.”
The moment Yoo Jin-ha left, Seo Ji-yeon poked her head out from between the books in the study and asked.
“Why not? Look, here’s the best ‘reasoning’ right here.”
I pushed the books aside and pointed my index finger at Seo Ji-yeon’s chest.
“Huh?”
Oh, don’t play dumb.
“BS Investment—aren’t the media already asking who’s backing it?”
“Ah, yes... W-wait a minute. Don’t tell me.”
I smiled slightly, confirming her guess.
“You just got one more job. Go work under Uncle Jin-ha and learn something.”
No matter how much experience Seo Ji-yeon had, she was still not even twenty. Expecting her to successfully run BS Investment on her own was closer to a delusion.
This would be a good chance for her to learn under Yoo Jin-ha. Especially since Seo Ji-yeon had a relatively mild personality.
‘The Cheonggang Group acquisition—sure, I allowed it, but she spent too much money. She should know when to cut things off.’
If the Yoo Jin-ha I knew was still the same... well, he’d probably start by cutting off unnecessary departments like severing arms and legs.
“...But, did you even anticipate this too?”
“What do you mean?”
“BS Investment. No matter what, because of my age, people look at me suspiciously... And you solved it this way.”
“It wasn’t outside the scenario.”
–Sarak.
I tucked my long hair behind my ear and smiled faintly.
No matter what I thought, and no matter what Yoo Jin-ha thought, from the outside, it was still the same Daehwa Group.
Anyone who looked closely into BS Investment would realize that Seo Ji-yeon was someone who had stuck to me every day.
Then... it would look like I had some kind of connection with Yoo Jin-ha. It would feel like I was working overseas while Yoo Jin-ha was handling things domestically.
In reality, it was the opposite order, but to outsiders, it would seem as if Yoo Jin-ha secretly pulled strings to create BS Investment.
As for Seo Ji-yeon... well, she’d probably be seen as a typical chaebol parachute hire.
“...Well, calling it a parachute hire isn’t wrong. It’s true I’m lacking.”
She let out a faint sigh.
“It’s fine. If you’re lacking, you can fill in the gaps. If you don’t know, you can learn.”
“...Thank you.”
Mm, as long as you understand.
***
Of course, there was one major flaw in Yoo Jin-ha and my plan.
We hadn’t considered Yoo Jin-seok’s opinion at all.
‘But that guy’s just a pushover anyway...’
They say an incompetent executive is worse than an evil one. I don’t entirely agree with that from my experience, but either way, Yoo Jin-seok was not someone fit for this turbulent world.
Most importantly, he still hadn’t noticed the blade I’d been sharpening since I was very young. Once I pushed him out with that prepared blade, Yoo Seon-jun would take care of the rest.
“...BS Investment, huh. You’ve built something interesting.”
Flipping through the list of companies owned by BS Investment that I had sent, Yoo Jin-ha let out a small exclamation.
In the past year, thanks to Seo Ji-yeon’s hard work acquiring companies, BS Investment had grown into a massive entity worth nearly 1 billion dollars.
And now, the group Seo Ji-yeon was trying to acquire was... Seongyeon Group, the owner of Korea’s largest oil refinery.
“Seongyeon Group is quite large. I was thinking of stepping in myself this time, but if Uncle handles it, things will be settled cleanly.”
If not, oh well. I believed Yoo Jin-ha would handle it properly.
“Yugong, Daehan Oil Corporation... You just want me to get those, right?”
Yoo Jin-ha stroked his chin sharply.
“Yes. Seongyeon does other things too, but... Yugong is the main prize, isn’t it?”
Originally, Seongyeon was a relatively small group, but during the military regime, it swallowed the oil corporation and expanded massively.
It had to be that way. At the time, Seongyeon’s revenue was 300 billion won, while the oil corporation’s was 1 trillion won. If it hadn’t been for the military regime, if Daehan Oil had not been a state-run company, Seongyeon acquiring Yugong would have been impossible.
It was literally a case of handing a state-owned enterprise over to a private company.
Seongyeon had other assets too, but its telecommunications business hadn’t even properly started yet, so that was fine.
All that mattered was taking the refinery.
“Back then, Father once prepared to acquire the oil group, but Seongyeon snatched it away and he got furious. If we take Yugong now, he’ll be delighted.”
“There’s that refinery company in Texas we bought. Later, we can bring technology from there. The nominal company owner is different, but we can arrange that easily enough...”
“...Texas? A refinery company?”
“Oh, yeah. I developed something called shale gas recently, and it’s really good. Back then, I had no choice but to buy a foreign company to experiment, but to properly run an oil business, you need state backing.”
Yoo Jin-ha made a twisted face like someone hearing that I built a nuclear reactor in my room.
“...Wait, Ha-yeon, are you saying—you built that? That shady refinery company that allegedly had its technology stolen by a major Texas oil corporation?”
“Oh, you know it well. The technology theft was intentional, though.”
That’s how you get caught.
Yoo Jin-ha was quite interested in foreign matters. Apparently, he was also interested in that black liquid from abroad.
Ironically, while Korea doesn’t produce oil, it exports quite a bit of refined oil. That means refinery companies thrive.
–Click.
I set down my coffee and wiped my lips.
“To be honest, I don’t know much about refinery companies. I can understand the technology roughly, but I lack the connections. Steel or shipbuilding in heavy industries doesn’t appeal to me as much as advanced IT.”
“Because heavy industry is a declining field?”
“...Hmm, not exactly. It’s true IT makes more money than heavy industries, but from a national perspective, there are industries you simply can’t abandon, right?”
“Like agriculture.”
After a moment of thought, Yoo Jin-ha slapped his knee.
“I get it. You’re trying to become an irreplaceable existence. The power you have now only works because of the unique situation of the foreign exchange crisis, so you’re preparing for when that power weakens.”
“Yes, exactly. I want to control as many industries as possible. That way, no one can discard me. In that /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ sense, globalization is a great opportunity, but it’s also a huge threat. I have to win the competition to get a share of the pie. But as you know, globalization is inevitable.”
Korea lives off exports, so globalization benefits that. But in some key sectors tied to national security, it’s not so simple.
Isn’t it well known how Korea manipulates rice prices? A policy I personally find annoying.
It’s far better for a giant agricultural company I own to distribute rice than for small farmers to grow it. That way, I control the nation’s lifeline.
“...A monopoly, huh.”
“A monopoly.”
It’s illegal, but who cares? Sprinkle enough money into the legislature and it becomes legal.
Of course, bribing legislators is illegal in itself, but let’s skip that.
“As someone who grew up in a chaebol family, maybe I shouldn’t say this, but are you sure? A monopoly isn’t great for corporate health.”
He’s right.
Monopolies—especially to this extent—are evil by existence. Just existing blocks innovation, breeds corruption, and rots everything.
Think about it—even with three telecom companies, corruption was rampant. It’s not just Korea; monopolistic industries are like that worldwide.
But if there were only one telecom company? Then even the token gestures of apology wouldn’t happen.
That kind of rot is exactly what I want to avoid.
“So I’ll open it up to a degree. It might be a monopoly by Korean standards, but not globally. Korea’s already showing signs of turning into another Galapagos, so stopping that will provide some self-correcting mechanisms.”
“It’s hard, but doable. Trade barriers exist to protect industries, but with the technology you’ve just shown—surely that’s not all—you’ll be fine. Especially IT, your specialty, would lose out if tied too tightly to Korea.”
“Yes. Since I’m still a somewhat suspicious figure in politics, it would be good if Uncle could act as a bridge. We can’t just dismantle trade barriers recklessly, right? The government needs to legislate policies, and we need to ensure we’re competitive against other companies.”
The reason for trade barriers is simple: protect industries until they become competitive.
It’s just that politicians rarely dismantle them early because of votes, but the purpose itself is natural. In fact, 21st-century free trade is historically rare.
“Got it. There were quite a few politicians hanging around Daehwa Group before. I’ll arrange meetings. You’re too busy for direct contact, so send someone.”
“Oh, I have a suitable person in my secretary’s office. A friend with a relative in the National Assembly...”
.
.
.
The relationship of trust between Yoo Jin-ha and me hadn’t fully formed yet, so our first meeting was more of a probing match.
There were attempts to gauge each other’s intentions and purposes here and there, but we exchanged words smoothly enough—after all, we’re family.
Honestly, hiding intentions at this point would only be awkward. It’s more troublesome to fix misunderstandings later.
“Ah, but... In your proposal, the investment in the refinery seems too small. Will that be enough? If you want to expand the business twofold, you’ll need at least another 100 million dollars.”
I smiled slyly and answered ambiguously.
“Ah, I have a plan for that too.”
First, I need to build an absurd amount of warehouses.