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CH171 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-02-27 03:35:00 +0000 UTCNissan Headquarters, Yokohama, Japan.
After concluding the executive meeting, Chief Financial Officer Yamamoto Daito returned to his office, where Section Chief Moriyama was already waiting. As soon as Yamamoto entered, Moriyama stood up from the sofa.
"I have an urgent matter to report."
Yamamoto, who had just removed his suit jacket and hung it on a coat rack, glanced at Moriyama’s tense expression before responding.
"Take a seat first."
Settling into the central chair, Yamamoto leisurely asked,
"Would you like some tea?"
"I'm fine, sir."
Moriyama seemed too eager to deliver his report to bother with tea.
Leaning back in his chair, Yamamoto casually inquired,
"What’s the matter? You look so serious."
Without hesitation, Moriyama placed a file folder in front of Yamamoto and spoke.
"This morning, the USD/JPY exchange rate hit 89.35 yen."
"……."
"Considering last month’s peak was 85.50 yen, that’s a drop of 3.85 yen in just one month."
Yamamoto picked up the file and flipped through the pages, where a detailed graph showed fluctuations in the USD/JPY exchange rate over the past few months.
"If we take last April’s high of the upper 70s as a reference, the decline is even steeper."
Closing the file and setting it down, Yamamoto spoke indifferently.
"That spike was just hedge funds manipulating the market, distorting the exchange rate. Now that the U.S.-Japan auto trade agreement has been settled and the overall economic outlook is improving, it’s only natural for the yen to strengthen."
"That’s true, sir. But the problem is how sharply the yen has appreciated this month."
"It’s just a correction after being artificially suppressed. We anticipated the exchange rate dropping to around 90 yen by year-end when we formulated our financial plans, didn’t we?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then there’s nothing to worry about. A weaker yen improves export competitiveness and even brings foreign exchange gains—it benefits the company, doesn’t it?"
At Yamamoto’s indifferent attitude, Moriyama leaned forward, his voice firm.
"You’re right, sir. But there’s one thing that concerns me."
"And what’s that?"
"Our options contract with Eldorado Fund."
"……."
"If the exchange rate continues to decline at this pace, it won’t be long before it drops below the contract rate of 90 yen."
Crossing his arms, Yamamoto recalled the details of the options contract in his mind and smacked his lips.
"It’s a bit unfortunate, but since we hedged our currency risk with this option, we’ll just have to accept it."
Moriyama, however, responded in a much more serious tone.
"What concerns me is if the exchange rate surpasses the upper limit and triggers the knock-in option."
"What?"
Furrowing his brows, Yamamoto met Moriyama’s gaze as the latter continued.
"If that happens, we’ll have to sell four times the contract amount to Eldorado Fund at the agreed rate."
Yet Yamamoto remained composed.
"If I recall correctly, the upper limit of the option contract with Eldorado Fund was 100 yen."
"That’s correct."
"Then there’s no reason to worry. The rate is at 89 yen now. Even if the yen continues to weaken, unless there’s another unexpected event like last time, it’ll be difficult to reach 100 yen within the year."
"That may be true, but..."
Still unable to shake his concerns, Moriyama hesitated, but Yamamoto cut him off.
"There’s still over 10 yen to go before the knock-in option is triggered, yet you’re already worrying? You’re more timid than I thought."
"……."
"Mark my words, the exchange rate won’t hit 100 yen this year. You can relax."
Then, as if making an offhand remark, he added,
"Besides, once the one-year contract with Eldorado Fund ends, we have no plans to renew it. There’s nothing to worry about."
Though Yamamoto dismissed the issue with confidence, Moriyama couldn’t shake his unease.
However, pressing the matter further might only irritate his superior, so he swallowed his concerns and kept quiet.
"If there's nothing more to discuss, you may leave."
"…Understood."
Reluctantly, Moriyama gathered the documents and exited the office.
Once the door closed, Yamamoto, now alone, clicked his tongue in irritation.
"Tsk. How can he handle big responsibilities with such a weak heart?"
For someone in a managerial position, getting nervous over such a low-probability scenario was hardly reassuring.
Yet as Yamamoto recalled the currency’s peak and the ongoing downtrend, a faint sense of unease crept in. Furrowing his brows, he muttered,
"There’s no way it’ll hit 100 yen this year… right?"
***
In the late afternoon, a BMW sedan exited the interchange and cruised along the national highway toward Icheon.
Scattered among the vast rice fields, large warehouse buildings stood here and there, creating a tranquil atmosphere.
After traveling for some time on the paved asphalt road, the BMW gradually slowed down and turned into a narrow side road.
Before long, a large warehouse surrounded by a tall fence came into view.
As the BMW pulled up in front of the main gate, a man who appeared to be around forty stepped out of a container serving as the security office.
Recognizing the car, the security guard quickly unlocked the gate and swung it open.
With the crunch of gravel under its tires, the BMW rolled inside the fenced compound and came to a stop at one side of the spacious lot.
Soon, Seok-won, wearing Ray-Ban sunglasses, opened the driver’s side door and stepped out. The approaching security guard bowed his head.
"Welcome, sir."
Taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his chest pocket, Seok-won glanced around.
"Everything going well?"
"Of course. Ah, by the way, a new shipment arrived this morning—one full container truck."
"Is there enough space?"
"Yes, but most of the shelves are nearly full now, so adding more will be difficult."
"I was already planning to build a new warehouse on that empty lot over there, so it’ll be fine."
"Understood."
Seok-won pulled out his wallet from his inner pocket and took out a 100,000-won check, handing it over.
"Here, for your efforts. Get yourself some cigarettes."
"Oh, thank you, sir! You’re always so generous when you visit."
The security guard’s face lit up with delight as he gratefully accepted the check.
"The goods are highly flammable, so always be careful with fire. If anything happens, call me immediately."
"Of course! I’ll keep a close eye on everything, so don’t worry."
"Alright, I’ll take a quick look around. Keep up the good work."
"Yes, sir. Here’s the key."
The security guard, as if accustomed to this routine, pulled out a bundle of warehouse keys from his jumper pocket and respectfully handed them over with both hands.
Taking the keys, Seok-won turned away from the security guard and walked toward the warehouse building.
The warehouse, constructed with reinforced concrete, stood two stories tall and covered an area of approximately 1,320 square meters, making it quite a sizable structure.
Using the key, he unlocked the access door attached to the large sliding entrance and stepped inside. The interior was pitch black, with not a single ray of sunlight filtering in.
Feeling along the left wall, Seok-won found the power switch and flipped it on.
One by one, the ceiling lights flickered to life, illuminating the warehouse in bright light.
The scene inside resembled neatly arranged storage compartments.
Tall six-tiered shelves were packed tightly up to the ceiling, each section filled with bundles wrapped in traditional Korean hanji paper. As he stepped closer, a subtle, earthy scent of dried leaves wafted through the air.
These were premium aged pu-erh teas, commonly referred to as antique pu-erh, fermented for decades.
Among the thousands of pu-erh tea bundles, some of the most valuable and rare Haoji (號級) teas—such as Fuhuan Chang (復原昌), Song Bing Hao (宋餅號), Dong Xing Hao (東興號), and Dong Jing Hao (東京號)—were stacked in the hundreds. Any true tea enthusiast would be mesmerized by such a collection.
"It’s quite a sight to see them all gathered like this."
He had scoured tea houses across Hong Kong, Macau, and mainland China to collect them.
Finding and verifying these antique pu-erh teas required a significant investment of manpower and capital, as he had to pay a premium to acquire genuine pieces.
But considering the skyrocketing prices that would follow, the cost was insignificant.
Seok-won reached for a bundle on a nearby shelf and carefully unwrapped it, revealing a round, compressed tea cake.
It was Hongyin (紅印) pu-erh tea, stamped with large red Chinese characters.
The storage conditions had been excellent—the paper packaging was so pristine that it was hard to believe the tea was over 40 years old.
"A few more years, and this will be worth over 100 million won per cake."
A single 320g tea cake costing over 100 million won (~$75,000)—it was practically more expensive than gold.
He had originally purchased these Hongyin pu-erh teas for 1 million won (~$750) per cake, meaning he stood to make a 1,000-fold profit.
"This is basically cryptocurrency in tea form."
While it was true that aged antique pu-erh boasted exceptional aroma and flavor, its actual worth never justified such exorbitant prices.
"It’s a bubble fueled by distorted vanity and ostentation."
As China’s economy rapidly grew, so did the number of newly wealthy individuals.
With newfound wealth came the desire to flaunt it, and among the items that caught the eyes of these affluent elites were European luxury brands and antique pu-erh tea.
"They bought so many luxury goods that people say Chinese billionaires practically keep European brands in business."
In China, where poor water quality made tea a staple beverage for centuries, antique pu-erh naturally became the ultimate status symbol.
As China’s tycoons scrambled to acquire antique pu-erh, prices soared astronomically, inflating the bubble to the point where a single tea cake could command over 100 million won.
The combined value of all the antique pu-erh in this warehouse alone easily exceeded several hundred billion won.
Although he was tempted to stockpile even more, it was becoming increasingly difficult to acquire top-tier teas. Besides, monopolizing too much of the market wasn’t ideal. So, Seok-won decided to conclude his tea collection here.
Instead, he planned to fill the newly constructed warehouse next door with Moutai, China's national liquor (國酒).
Like antique pu-erh tea, Moutai was another item whose price was skyrocketing due to the vanity of Chinese tycoons and its frequent use as a bribery gift.
If he remembered correctly, a 1953 vintage bottle of Moutai had once sold at auction for 1.5 million yuan (~250 million KRW / ~$190,000).
"The real goldmine is Kweichow Moutai stock, but it's frustrating that I can't buy it yet."
The company that produced Moutai was officially named Kweichow Moutai Co., Ltd. (贵州茅台), often referred to simply as Kweichow Moutai.
"A liquor company being the most valuable publicly traded firm? Only in China."
With a market capitalization of 2.3616 trillion yuan (~426 trillion KRW / ~$320 billion USD), Moutai was truly the emperor of liquors.
It was more valuable than Coca-Cola and on par with Samsung Electronics, Korea’s most prominent conglomerate—an indication of Kweichow Moutai’s remarkable status.
Clicking his tongue in regret, Seok-won muttered to himself.
"If I could just buy it now, I could make a massive profit. But the company isn’t even incorporated yet, let alone listed on the stock market, so there’s nothing I can do."
Determined to secure a stake before the IPO while the valuation was still low, he turned his gaze back to the warehouse filled with antique pu-erh teas, a satisfied look on his face.
