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CH283 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-04-05 03:38:58 +0000 UTCA luxury Benz sedan cruised down a quiet national highway, surrounded by vast fields of farmland stretching endlessly on both sides. Gradually, the car slowed before coming to a stop by the roadside.
As soon as the vehicle halted, Han Ji-sung stepped out from the front passenger seat and swiftly opened the rear door. Seok-won emerged, his face partially concealed behind a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses.
Walking toward the edge of the roadside, he stopped. Han Ji-sung raised an arm and pointed across the empty farmland—where rice planting had yet to begin—toward a massive logistics warehouse in the distance.
“That’s the one.”
Seok-won removed his sunglasses and took in his surroundings.
“The site is over 10,000 pyeong, right?”
“Yes.”
Han Ji-sung promptly confirmed and provided additional details.
“The total area is 42,975 square meters—roughly 13,000 pyeong.”
“It doesn’t look that large.”
“As you know, this entire region has been classified as ‘Namtan Green Zone’ for over a decade, facing near-restrictive development regulations.”
The preservation of Bundang and Pangyo as green zones was largely due to former President Park Jang-woo’s direct influence.
While returning to Seoul by helicopter after an inspection tour, he happened to fly over this area and ordered, ‘This land will be useful in the future, so don’t develop it.’ That single remark sealed its fate as a protected zone.
“Because of that, the owners were unable to fully utilize the land. Only about half of it was granted temporary permits for warehouse use.”
“The restrictions have been lifted since Bundang was developed into a new city, correct?”
“Yes. For a while, people expected this area to be designated as the next major residential development zone. But for various reasons, those discussions have died down.”
“Since it’s a rare, untouched greenbelt near Seoul, opposition was inevitable.”
“Exactly.”
This explained why, when Seok-won demanded assets instead of cash, Woo Yong-gap had been outraged over the Seocho-dong site but showed little concern for the Pangyo logistics center.
‘Seocho-dong was just a decoy. What I truly wanted was this place, but neither Woo Yong-gap nor Donghae Group would ever suspect it.’
At present, Pangyo’s development seemed uncertain. However, in just a few years—once the government changed—the project would gain rapid momentum. Not only that, but the area would become a global R&D hub, attracting the country’s top IT companies.
‘When that happens, this seemingly insignificant land will turn into a gold mine overnight.’
Once Pangyo was officially designated for development and discussions gained traction, Woo Yong-gap would surely regret selling it for a pittance.
‘By then, Donghae Group will have collapsed under the direct impact of the IMF crisis, making the loss even more painful.’
It’s human nature to covet what belongs to someone else. But realizing that something invaluable once belonged to you? That’s a whole different kind of torment.
“The appraisal value was 1 million won per pyeong, correct?”
“Yes. Even with the Seocho-dong site included, it wasn’t enough to cover the entire debt repayment. So we acquired three additional properties from Donghae Group.”
Acquiring a prime 13,000-pyeong plot in central Pangyo for a mere 13 billion won—practically a steal.
On top of that, the additional properties were also prime real estate expected to skyrocket in value. The deal couldn’t have been more satisfying.
‘I had no idea Donghae Group owned so many hidden gems.’
Seok-won grinned to himself.
Even the training center near the former Military Sports Complex, another property he had secured, was set to transform into a major new city in the coming years—just like Pangyo.
At this rate, the payoff for enduring the battle against a hostile M&A was turning out to be quite the lucrative reward.
With an expression of sheer satisfaction, he took one last, lingering look at the logistics center, now officially his. Then, slipping his sunglasses back on, he turned around.
“Let’s head back.”
* * *
Tokyo, Chuo Ward –
Sumimoto Corporation Headquarters
Despite being in his late 60s, Ito Masanao, the president of Sumimoto Corporation, maintained a lean physique and stood taller than the average Japanese man. Seated at a large mahogany desk, he was reviewing documents when a knock at the door made him look up.
A female secretary, dressed in a two-piece uniform, stepped inside and announced the visitor.
“Director Kubori from Finance is here to see you.”
Ito placed the file he was reading onto the desk and responded.
“Let him in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Shortly after the secretary exited, Kubori Hideyaki, dressed in a gray suit, entered. He bowed respectfully before straightening up.
Seeing him, Ito gestured toward the sofa in front of him with a slight nod.
“Take a seat.”
“Thank you.”
As Kubori settled onto the sofa to the right, Ito stood up from his desk and took a seat in the center.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Anything is fine.”
Ito turned to the secretary waiting by the door.
“Bring us two coffees.”
“Understood.”
Once the secretary had left and the door closed, Ito leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, and got straight to the point.
“Did you look into what I asked?”
“Yes.”
Kubori gave a firm nod under his superior’s gaze.
“Good. So, who had the audacity to short-sell our company?”
Kubori’s voice tightened slightly as he responded.
“It was Eldorado Fund.”
Ito narrowed his eyes.
“Eldorado? Isn’t that the firm that made headlines with their knock-in, knock-out options scheme?”
“That’s correct. Before that, they also teamed up with George Soros’s Quantum Fund to attack the yen, putting the Bank of Japan in a tough spot.”
Realizing they were up against a major player, Ito muttered with displeasure.
“Not someone we can afford to ignore.”
Kubori leaned forward, his tone growing more serious.
“Eldorado Fund isn’t just the hottest name on Wall Street right now—George Soros himself acknowledged them. Their financial firepower is formidable, so we must stay on high alert.”
At that moment, the secretary reentered the room with two cups of coffee, placing one in front of each man before silently leaving again.
Once the door shut, Kubori resumed their conversation.
“Nissan, Toshiba, Nippon Steel—some of Japan’s largest corporations have already fallen into their traps and suffered greatly. You’re well aware of that, aren’t you?”
The issue had escalated to the point where the Japanese cabinet had to intervene, making it a widely discussed controversy across the nation.
Ito was especially familiar with the matter, having personally witnessed Kuroda, the president of Nissan and a frequent golf partner, struggle to secure reappointment due to the massive losses caused by option trading.
“Damn it.”
He clicked his tongue in frustration.
Ito scowled, clicking his tongue in frustration.
“What do you think they’re after?”
“We haven’t confirmed that yet, but one thing is certain—judging by the sheer volume of short-selling, this isn’t just a test probe. They’re launching a full-scale attack.”
“How much have they shorted so far?”
“By rough estimate, over 100 billion yen.”
Ito’s eyes widened in shock.
“Didn’t you say it was around 60 billion just a few days ago?”
Kubori’s expression hardened as he replied.
“They’ve been dumping massive amounts of shares without hesitation in the meantime.”
“Hmph.”
Ito let out a low grunt, clearly disturbed by the unexpected scale of the assault.
Seeing his reaction, Kubori spoke in an even graver tone.
“The real problem is that even after short-selling over 100 billion yen worth of shares, Eldorado Fund shows no signs of slowing down.”
“You mean they’re planning to sell even more?”
“Considering they dumped tens of billions more in today’s session alone, it looks like this will continue for a while.”
Since Eldorado Fund’s short-selling spree had begun last month, Sumimoto Corporation’s stock had tumbled. In mid-April, it had been holding steady around 1,250 yen per share, but it had since plummeted below 1,000 yen.
With such an overwhelming amount of short-selling, the price drop was inevitable. But for Ito, who was a professional executive rather than a majority shareholder, this meant one thing—he had to worry about how the company’s major investors would react.
On top of that, much like Kuroda, the president of Nissan, Ito had ambitions for a third consecutive term once his current tenure ended next year. The ongoing stock decline was becoming an increasingly uncomfortable thorn in his side.
“The continued drop has started raising red flags. At first, investors were willing to buy up the shorted shares, but now they’re beginning to suspect something is seriously wrong. Market anxiety is growing.”
Ito furrowed his brows and shot a sharp look at Kubori.
“Are you saying the stock could drop even further?”
Kubori hesitated momentarily before answering with a troubled expression.
“If Eldorado Fund doesn’t stop short-selling and the bottom support from bargain hunters disappears... we might see a temporary dip below 900 yen.”
The moment he heard that, Ito’s face contorted in fury.
“Did you just say 900 yen?!”
As Ito raised his voice, Kubori quickly tried to explain.
“This drop is purely due to short-selling, not any fundamental issues. Once the selling pressure eases, the stock will stabilize and rebound.”
But Ito, his face still rigid, pressed on aggressively.
“Didn’t you just say Eldorado Fund isn’t stopping their short-selling?”
“Yes, but their capital isn’t unlimited. Sooner or later, they’ll have to stop.”
Kubori tried to reassure him, but Ito shot him a piercing glare.
“And what if they have more firepower than we expect? You know as well as I do that the stock market is all about psychology. If investors start panicking and dumping their shares, this could spiral out of control. That’s exactly what Eldorado Fund is aiming for—mass panic!”
Ito snapped, his frustration boiling over.
Kubori wanted to argue that institutional investors, who held a significant stake, wouldn’t be easily shaken. But seeing how tense and agitated Ito was, he decided to hold his tongue.
He understood why Ito was reacting so sensitively.
Ito straightened his posture and asked,
“How much surplus cash do we have available right now?”
Kubori immediately grasped Ito’s intention and looked up at him.
“You’re planning a stock buyback to defend the share price?”
“The stock is plummeting, and shareholders are taking a hit. Of course, the company has to step in.”
‘Not for the shareholders—for his own reappointment,’ Kubori thought cynically but kept his comment to himself.
Still, if Ito succeeded in securing a third term, it would be beneficial for Kubori as well, given that they were in the same faction. Moreover, Sumimoto Corporation was a highly profitable company, generating over $200 million in net profit annually, so spending money on a stock buyback wouldn’t be a major burden.
After quickly crunching the numbers in his head, Kubori responded,
“We have about 20 billion yen readily available.”
Ito frowned.
“Our opponent has already poured over 100 billion yen into this. Do you think 20 billion is going to make a dent? Increase it to 50 billion and start the buyback immediately.”
Kubori’s eyes widened slightly.
“50 billion yen?”
“Yes. And we’ll issue a public statement saying we’re taking action to protect our shareholders from a malicious short-selling attack. That way, we won’t just prop up the stock—we’ll also win the support of our investors.”
Kubori couldn’t help but be impressed by Ito’s strategy. He was turning this crisis into an opportunity to solidify his third term.
“I understand,” Kubori said, nodding.
After discussing the details further, Kubori finally stood up, bowed, and left the office.
Once he was gone, Ito reached for a wooden box on the table, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. As he exhaled a cloud of white smoke, he muttered to himself,
“Damn nuisances. Of all times, they had to show up now.”
Then, a sudden thought crossed his mind, making him furrow his brows.
“Could this short-selling attack be related to the recent decline in copper prices?”
He gazed at the ceiling, deep in thought, before shaking his head.
“No… It’s true that our company has a major position in the copper market, but a slight price drop would only marginally impact our operating profits. There’s no way they’d go this far over something so minor.”
Scoffing at the thought, Ito dismissed the possibility entirely.
