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CH185 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-03-04 06:25:50 +0000 UTCShenyang, China.
After completing the full schedule of his four-day, three-night trip, Chairman Park sat in the VIP lounge of Taoxian International Airport on the outskirts of the city, accompanied by his eldest son, Park Jin-hyung.
Sinking into the plush sofa, Chairman Park habitually pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips.
Seeing this, Secretary Gil Sung-ho, who was seated to his left, quickly flicked on a lighter and lit the cigarette for him.
Taking a deep drag of the white smoke and exhaling slowly, Chairman Park turned his gaze toward his eldest son.
"Once the second phase of expansion is completed as planned, all production facilities will be relocated to China, except for the Ansan factory."
Receiving his father's gaze, Park Jin-hyung straightened his posture and replied.
"Yes. When that happens, production costs will decrease, and our profit margins will improve."
"Lower labor costs don’t mean much if the defect rate is high. How do you plan to solve that?"
"We’ll bring in more skilled workers from Korea to train local employees, minimizing defects and maintaining quality."
"Experienced workers don’t just fall from the sky, so that’s probably the only way."
Suddenly recalling something, Chairman Park furrowed his brows.
"I heard that many trained employees quit without notice because of something called 'Mingong Huang' or whatever?"
Caught off guard by the abrupt question, Park Jin-hyung showed a slightly troubled expression.
"Yes. In China, the Lunar New Year is called 'Chunjie.' During this time, most migrant workers return to their hometowns to spend the holiday with their families."
Large-scale migration of holiday travelers to visit family during Lunar New Year or Chuseok was also common in Korea.
"Since China is so vast, it often takes two to three days just to travel home. That’s why companies usually grant at least a week or even up to two weeks for the Chunjie holiday."
"With such a huge landmass and poor transportation infrastructure, getting home must be quite a challenge."
"Rural migrant workers in cities are called 'Nongmingong' or simply 'Mingong.' The problem is that many of them don’t return after the Chunjie holiday—they just switch to another factory."
Letting out a small sigh, Park Jin-hyung looked visibly frustrated.
"This phenomenon is commonly referred to as 'Mingong Huang' (民工荒). Even after this year’s Chunjie holiday, 10% of the workforce at the Shenzhen factory didn’t return, causing major difficulties in recruiting replacements."
Hearing this, Chairman Park frowned.
"After all that effort training them, losing them like that is a complete waste. On top of that, a shortage of workers will affect factory operations, won’t it?"
"That’s why we’re implementing various strategies to reduce turnover, such as building new dormitories and offering incentives for employees who return after Chunjie."
However, despite these efforts, Park Jin-hyung’s expression remained somewhat grim, suggesting that preventing employee attrition entirely would still be a challenge.
"No matter how advanced machinery becomes, people are still the most important part of any business. Never forget that, and make sure to focus on labor management."
"Yes, I’ll keep that in mind."
Since Park Jin-hyung had never once let him down, Chairman Park refrained from saying too much, not wanting to seem overbearing.
"That aside, it was a relief to see that Governor Wei Jizhong seemed quite favorable toward us in person."
Tapping his cigarette over the ashtray on the table, Chairman Park shared his impressions from the trip.
Hearing this, Park Jin-hyung allowed a faint smile to form at the corners of his lips.
"Since we are one of the foreign companies he personally attracted, he does tend to offer us favorable treatment. However, his increased cooperation this time was probably influenced by the private jet you arrived in."
"Hmm?"
Chairman Park, cigarette still in his mouth, looked over with an expression that seemed to ask, What are you talking about?
What does my private jet have to do with anything?
Seeing his father’s puzzled gaze, Park Jin-hyung shrugged.
"Everyone expected you to take a commercial flight via Beijing, but then you suddenly showed up in a private jet. Of course, they were surprised."
"I see."
Realizing the implication, Chairman Park let out a belated chuckle.
"No doubt our company’s reputation has skyrocketed because of it."
"Hahaha, I suppose so. And considering it’s an expensive model, that probably made an even bigger impression."
Unable to hide his satisfaction, Chairman Park chuckled to himself. His son, Park Jin-hyung, leaned forward slightly and asked,
"But did Seok-won really gift you that private jet?"
"Why? You don’t believe me?"
"It must have cost at least hundreds of billions of won. Honestly, it’s hard to wrap my head around."
Even though he had seen it with his own eyes, Park Jin-hyung still looked bewildered.
Chuckling again, Chairman Park curled his lips into a proud grin.
"I told you, didn’t I? That kid may not be good at everything, but when it comes to making money, he’s a natural."
"So it’s really true?"
When Chairman Park had arrived in his private jet, he had also mentioned that Seok-won had invested his Powerball winnings while studying in the U.S. and had significantly multiplied his fortune.
"I figured he just saved the money or left it in your care, but I never imagined he kept reinvesting it."
And now, hearing that the wealth he accumulated was so substantial that even his father—the chairman of Daehung Group—considered it an enormous sum, was simply unbelievable.
Watching his eldest son struggle to process the information, Chairman Park gave him a knowing look.
After all, before seeing the newspaper articles and getting the full explanation, he had reacted the same way.
"In terms of liquid assets, that kid probably has more cash on hand than I do."
"What? Seriously?"
Park Jin-hyung’s eyes widened in shock.
"Have you ever known me to joke about something like this?"
"Hmm… well, no… but still…."
Leaning back comfortably against the sofa, Chairman Park watched as his son shook his head in disbelief.
After all, Seok-won had made over $1 billion—more than a trillion won—just from selling his Netscape shares. The numbers didn’t lie.
"If you ever have extra money lying around, you should let Seok-won handle it. He’d probably double it—no, triple it—without breaking a sweat."
"You’re seriously suggesting I invest with Seok-won?"
"I already told you, the kid has an exceptional talent for making money."
Chairman Park swallowed back the words, Just like me.
"Wait… does that mean you’ve also…?"
"Hahaha."
Seeing his father’s cryptic smile, Park Jin-hyung’s face froze in astonishment.
"The only downside is that his fees are steep… but I’ve made a nice profit."
"Wait, when did you…?"
What on earth had happened while he was busy devoting himself to the company?
"Does Mom know about this too?"
"……."
Chairman Park Tae-hong suddenly clamped his mouth shut.
Jin-hyung had only asked on a whim, wondering if even their mother had entrusted money to his younger brother for investment. But from his father’s reaction, it felt like he had touched on something he wasn’t supposed to ask.
Just then, Manager Chu Se-young knocked on the door and stepped inside.
"Chairman, it’s time to board."
At that, Chairman Park stubbed out his nearly finished cigarette in the ashtray and got up from his seat.
"Alright, let’s go."
As Park Jin-hyung stood up from the sofa to follow, a thought crossed his mind.
"Should I really give it a try?"
Seeing how satisfied his father was, it seemed his younger brother really did have a talent for handling money.
Deep in thought, he followed Chairman Park toward the private jet waiting for them.
* * *
Nissan Headquarters, Yokohama, Japan
Yamamoto, the Chief Financial Officer, sat on the sofa with a tense expression, placing the report in his hands down on the table. His tone was sharp as he asked,
"Is this report accurate?"
Receiving his gaze, Finance Manager Moriyama nodded grimly.
"Yes. At this rate, it’s highly likely that the exchange rate will surpass 100 yen per dollar—if not within a month, then perhaps as soon as next week."
Upon hearing this, Yamamoto’s face twisted in frustration.
Normally, a weak yen would be beneficial for Nissan, as it increased their export competitiveness.
But this time, things were different. If the dollar-yen exchange rate exceeded 100 yen, the knock-in option contract with the Eldorado Fund would be triggered.
"If that happens, how much are we looking at in losses?"
Yamamoto’s voice grew heavier with concern.
Moriyama, who had been wearing a troubled expression all along, hesitated before finally answering.
"If the knock-in option is activated, we will be required to sell four times the contracted amount—$2 billion—to the Eldorado Fund at the agreed exchange rate. Even if we take 100 yen as the benchmark, that means a 10% loss, or $200 million."
Hearing the staggering figure, Yamamoto looked as if he was about to have a heart attack.
"Two hundred million? Did you just say two hundred million dollars?"
"…Yes."
Moriyama shot him a resentful look.
"That’s why I warned you last time that we needed to take precautions."
"Are you saying this is my fault?"
Yamamoto’s frustration flared. The words then whose fault is it? nearly escaped Moriyama’s lips, but he swallowed them back.
"With such volatile exchange rate fluctuations, hedging against foreign exchange risk was the most reasonable course of action. You agreed to the hedging strategy too, didn’t you?"
Yamamoto grimaced and spoke defensively.
Meanwhile, Moriyama was growing more exasperated by the second.
Sure, he had agreed that currency hedging was necessary. But it was Yamamoto who had insisted on choosing the high-risk Eldorado Fund option and signing the contract.
Moriyama had warned him multiple times about the risks, yet Yamamoto had dismissed his concerns, adamantly believing the exchange rate would never exceed 100 yen per dollar. And now, seeing him trying to shift the blame, Moriyama felt utterly disgusted.
"Not $20 million, but $200 million? This is insane."
"That’s based on an exchange rate of 100 yen per dollar. If the yen weakens further, the losses will be even greater."
"You think I don’t know that?!"
Yamamoto snapped, his voice dripping with irritation.
He grabbed the cup of cold coffee in front of him and downed it in one gulp, then clenched his fists anxiously.
"Is there any way to cancel the option early?"
"It’s impossible."
Moriyama shook his head.
Yamamoto frowned and pressed on.
"There’s no such thing as a contract that can’t be terminated. If we dig deep enough, there’s got to be a way!"
But Moriyama, having reviewed the contract thoroughly multiple times, remained skeptical.
"There is a clause stating that early termination is possible if both parties agree, with a penalty fee. But think about it—Eldorado Fund stands to make a massive profit if the knock-in condition is met. Do you really think they’ll agree to cancel the contract?"
"Tsk."
Yamamoto bit his lip, at a loss for words.
If the roles were reversed, he knew full well he wouldn’t make such a foolish decision either.
But with a financial disaster looming, doing nothing wasn’t an option. Clinging to desperation, he lashed out.
"So what, are we just going to sit back and let this happen? We’re about to lose over $200 million! We have to try something!"
His aggressive shouting made Moriyama’s face twitch with frustration.
Yamamoto had caused this mess himself, yet here he was, raising his voice like it was someone else’s fault.
Anger flared in Moriyama’s chest, but he swallowed it down. The damage was already done—right now, the priority was containing the losses.
Suppressing his irritation, he racked his brain for a solution.
"Even if they agree to terminate the contract, the penalty fee will be enormous."
"Hmm…"
Yamamoto hesitated for a moment, then cautiously suggested something.
"Try to negotiate and lower the penalty as much as possible."
It was obvious that Yamamoto was more worried about being held accountable if they paid a massive penalty only for the dollar-yen exchange rate to stay below 100 yen.
At a time when bold action was necessary to minimize losses, he was instead focused on covering his own back.
Watching him hesitate and scheme rather than take decisive steps, Moriyama felt a sigh rising in his chest.
Regardless of how pathetic Yamamoto was, one thing was clear: if they didn’t act soon, the company would suffer devastating losses.
Suppressing his frustration, Moriyama answered weakly, "I’ll do my best."
