InkBound
patreon
CH92 | Heir
🕑 Added 2025-04-08 05:39:46 +0000 UTCTaewoo Group’s department stores and CL Group’s battery division.
Regarding current market value, the department stores were worth far more.
The battery division hadn’t even produced a viable secondary battery yet, and due to the foreign exchange crisis, investment in the sector was being scaled back.
That’s why I was interested.
Of course, I had already acquired the entire battery business of Japan’s TDK Group.
That alone was sufficient for secondary battery production.
But I still coveted CL Group’s technology.
More than anything, I wanted their talent.
CL Group’s secondary battery technology had gained global recognition thanks to its brilliant engineers.
If I could bring those people over, exchanging them for Taewoo Department Stores would be a worthwhile deal.
But first, I had to convince my grandfather.
I needed to prove that swapping the department stores for the battery division wasn’t a loss.
"You've read Advisor Fukuda’s report, so you know that mobile phone sales are increasing exponentially every year. Naturally, the demand for secondary batteries will skyrocket as well."
"So, you’re saying you want to acquire another battery company? Taewoo Electronics’ battery division is already thriving—why do we need more?"
"We need CL Group’s battery technology.
From my perspective, it holds at least tens of trillions of won in potential value."
I wasn’t lying.
Before my return, CL Group’s battery business had exceeded 25 trillion won in annual revenue.
The operating profit was just over 1 trillion won, but the sheer scale of the business was undeniable.
"You've never been wrong about these things before… Hmm… So, if we want to acquire CL Group’s battery division, what do we have to offer in return?"
"We’ll need to trade Taewoo Department Stores."
"Based on current valuation, that would be a massive loss for us. Won’t CL Group be suspicious?"
"That’s why I plan to ask for one more thing in return."
My grandfather rested his chin on his hand, intrigued.
Sensing his interest, I quickly calculated my next move.
What else could I extract from CL Group?
I racked my brain for CL Group’s business portfolio before my return.
Electronics, batteries, cosmetics, beverages…
"What exactly are you planning to ask for?"
"CL Group’s telecommunications company looks promising."
"Hah! Now that’s just greedy. There’s no way CL Group will agree to exchange Taewoo Department Stores for both CL Batteries and CL Telecom."
"Then we’ll have to sweeten the deal. Since they still hold a grudge over Hyunjae Group taking their semiconductor business, what if we offered them our credit card division?"
"Give them our credit card division?! Do you have any idea how valuable it is? Taewoo Securities relies on it as one of our biggest cash cows!"
Of course, I knew.
And I also knew that in a few years, the credit card bubble would burst, pushing many card companies into bankruptcy.
"We’ll only give it to them for four years. After that, we’ll take it back. Think of it as a temporary lease—it won’t be a loss."
"I honestly have no idea what you’re scheming.
Why are you so eager to get rid of the credit card business?"
"Credit card usage is skyrocketing. To maintain cash flow, card companies have stopped doing proper credit assessments and are handing out cards recklessly."
"Isn’t that a good thing? More card usage means higher revenue."
At my grandfather’s question, I couldn’t help but curl my lips into a mischievous smile.
“Sure, sales may rise for now, but soon, more and more people will be unable to repay their credit card debt. And when that happens, what do you think will follow? Something just like the foreign exchange crisis that struck South Korea.”
“You’re saying the credit card companies will collapse?”
“At the latest, within four years, we’ll see a wave of bankruptcies across the credit card industry.”
“Hmm… If things unfold the way you predict, then this wouldn’t be a bad move…”
“This is the perfect opportunity to acquire the telecom company you’ve always wanted, Grandpa. On top of that, it aligns perfectly with the government’s Big Deal initiative.”
Grandpa fell into deep thought.
Had this been before the foreign exchange crisis, he probably would’ve dismissed me outright.
But now, after witnessing my business acumen firsthand, he simply let out a deep sigh.
“Hah… I really don’t know anymore. Fine, do as you see fit.”
“You mean I should go convince the CEO of Taewoo Securities, right?”
“If Taewoo Securities agrees, I won’t oppose the Big Deal. But they’re going to push back hard.
Would they really be willing to trade away a cash cow like the credit card division for a telecom company?”
“I’ll do my best to persuade them. If they remain firmly opposed, I’ll think of an alternative solution.”
Grandfather might have warned me about how difficult it would be to convince Taewoo Securities.
But I knew he didn’t truly believe that.
After all, the CEO of Taewoo Securities, Park Man-duk, had sided with me during the Taewoo Shipbuilding sale.
***
In corporate life, alliances were everything.
Especially at the executive level, where renewing contracts each year depended on securing the right backing.
And no matter the company, the best backing was always the chairman’s.
Yet, standing before me now, wiping sweat from his forehead, was a man who had given up that very backing—
CEO Park Man-duk of Taewoo Securities.
“You’re suggesting we sell off the credit card division to CL Group? And not just sell it—trade it away in a Big Deal for their telecom company?
Did the government orchestrate this?”
“No. But if this Big Deal succeeds, we’ll be able to boast about pulling off a major restructuring deal in line with government policy.”
“Frankly, I disagree. A telecom company requires massive R&D investments every year.
On the other hand, a credit card business is stable—as long as we retain existing customers, we’ll never suffer losses.”
Park Man-duk carefully wiped his sweat away, speaking in a cautious tone.
I knew exactly why he was acting this way.
During the Taewoo Shipbuilding sale, he had chosen me over my grandfather.
Of course, his decision had likely been based on Taewoo Group’s best interests, rather than personal loyalty.
But to outsiders, it looked like he had switched sides—from the Chairman’s camp to the Successor’s camp.
“Four years. That’s all I need. Within that time, I’ll buy back the credit card division—for less than half the price we sell it for.”
“But if we sell the credit card division, Taewoo Securities’ revenue will plummet.”
“I’ll make sure your revenue stays intact—just through a different method.”
“Is there any business that could generate as much revenue as the credit card sector?”
Credit cards weren’t the only cash cow.
South Korea’s financial sector was still underdeveloped, which meant there were plenty of untapped opportunities.
“Credit cards are ultimately a fee-based business, right? Then all we need to do is create a financial product that yields even higher fees than credit cards.”
“What kind of product are you suggesting?”
“Investment funds. South Korea still lacks a proper fund investment market. But just look at Wall Street—there are trillions of won flowing through investment funds. And the fees on those funds? Anywhere from 0.5% to 4%.”
In reality, investment funds wouldn’t take off in South Korea for another one to two years.
But if we jumped in early, we could dominate the market before anyone else.
If we succeeded, we’d have a far bigger cash cow than the credit card business.
“But the foreign exchange crisis has made people extremely wary of financial investments.
Even banks, which people once believed could never fail, have collapsed—so the public has completely lost trust in financial products.”
“In times of fear, what people need most is hope. And tell me, what kind of country is South Korea? When the nation struggles, its people rise to the challenge.”
“But even so, is it really possible to instill hope in the people under these circumstances?”
“With patriotic marketing, yes, it is.”
Is there any nation with a stronger sense of patriotism than South Korea?
Due to its geographical location, Korea had a long history of being attacked from all sides.
As a result, South Koreans had developed an unwavering sense of duty to protect their country.
“You mean, like the Gold Collection Campaign?”
“Similar, but with one key difference. In the Gold Collection Campaign, the people gave up their gold for the country with little personal gain.
But with investment funds, they can support the economy and make money at the same time.”
“But investing in funds isn’t always profitable.”
“Tell me, Mr. Park, do you really think Korean stock prices can fall any further? The country has already defaulted—how much lower can the market possibly go?”
At that moment, the KOSPI index stood at 277.
In my previous life, KOSPI had soared past 3,000.
A tenfold increase.
That meant that even if someone simply bought and held Korean stocks, they’d make ten times their investment.
“I also believe that KOSPI is at rock bottom. But the general public isn’t like us. They don’t make rational investment decisions. Retail investors buy and sell based on emotions.”
“It’s very easy to ease their fears—just offer a principal guarantee.”
“Th-That’s far too risky!”
“Of course, we wouldn’t guarantee all investment products. For principal-guaranteed funds, we’d charge a 5%+ fee. For regular funds, we’d stick to the usual fees.”
Park Man-duk swallowed hard.
He knew the dangers of principal guarantees, which made him hesitant.
“You’re suggesting we use principal-guaranteed funds as a bait product?”
“Exactly. We heavily promote it with a major TV ad campaign to capture public interest.
And, of course, we need a patriotic name to stir national sentiment.”
“A patriotic name… Something like ‘Save Korea Fund’?”
“That’s too blatant. Something like ‘WIN-WIN Fund’ or ‘BUY Korea Fund’ would be more effective. The key is to emphasize that South Korea’s economy will recover.”
In reality, this exact fund would launch next year under the name BUY Korea Fund—and it would raise over 5 trillion won in a short period.
“Patriotic marketing could indeed draw in a large number of investors…
But will it really generate enough revenue to replace the credit card business?”
“Then let’s do this. We launch the patriotic fund first— And if it attracts over 3 trillion won, we sell the credit card division. That amount would more than make up for the lost revenue.”
“Still, I can’t shake off my concerns about principal guarantees.”
“If it really worries you, then I’ll personally cover any losses with my own assets. So don’t hesitate—just move forward with the plan.”
“…Understood. I’ll make sure the fund is ready for launch within the month.”
***
Fifteen days later.
I was seated in Taewoo Securities' conference room, watching TV.
Around me sat President Park Man-duk and several executives from Taewoo Securities.
All of us stared intently at the screen.
And finally—
the patriotic fund’s commercial began.
📺 [Is Korea’s economy truly weaker than a single Japanese company?]
Right from the first line, the commercial delivered an impactful message.
Nothing ignited patriotism quite like Japan.
But this wasn’t just about stirring national pride.
It was a fact that Korea’s economy was being undervalued, even compared to a single Japanese corporation.
The people needed to realize this.
“The commercial turned out really well.”
The 30-second ad was produced exactly as I had envisioned.
Its core message was clear—
Korea and its people should prosper together.
And it was infused with patriotic elements at every turn.
“We’ve already aired the ads in newspapers and on the radio.”
“Now that it’s on TV, we should start seeing a reaction soon.
How are sign-ups looking?”
“Since it’s only the first day, numbers are still low.”
Park Man-duk’s expression darkened.
Then, suddenly—
every executive’s phone started ringing at once.
Bzzzt! Bzzzt!
“We’re experiencing a sign-up surge!
People are flooding into Taewoo Securities' branches nationwide!”
As expected—
nothing was as powerful as patriotism.
Especially in a national crisis like this.
