TOIGC 24

Chapter 24:…

Goal: 4 Years Later (1)

<“People with purchasing power? Makes it sound like Koreans don’t have any money to spend. Is that what you mean?”>

Yoongi nodded.

“Of course they don’t.”

<“Isn’t saying they have no purchasing power a bit of a stretch?”>

“Look, if I were running a major conglomerate—or even a solid mid-sized firm—with a distribution network that reached the whole country, then sure, I’d say there’s purchasing power. But…”

<“Fair point. Technically, you’re running a company with an employee count of one.”>

“Exactly. That’s why I have to target the specific demographic that actually has money to burn. I don’t have nationwide distribution capabilities.”

<“If you’re doing business in Korea, but not targeting Koreans, then who are we talking about? Are you jumping into leisure or tourism?”>

“Something like that. Honestly, I did entertain the thought of running a bootleg electronics ring out of Cheonggyecheon.”

<“So that’s why you were buying up land there! I was wondering what you were up to. You know that old joke about Cheonggyecheon back in the day? Give them enough time and they’ll fetch you a whale—or assemble a tank for you, though you’ll have to assemble the parts yourself. Ah, though I guess that’s the future for you, isn’t it?”>

“You’re surprisingly well-informed.”

<“Hey, hanging around a living descendant every single day gets dull after a while. Sure, being around you is entertaining enough that I spend most of my time here, but back in the day, I used to wander all over. Once you really start looking around…”>

Deokbae’s ghostly face flushed bright red, and a faint trickle of blood leaked from one nostril.

“Wait… ghosts can get nosebleeds?”

<“Ahem! Mind your own business, kid.”>

“I told you, I’m not a kid…”

<“Anyway! I’ve drifted around plenty, and Cheonggyecheon in its glory days was really something else. Same goes for Yongsan, which you’re planning to buy up.”>

Yoongi decided not to poke at Deokbae’s obvious sore spot any further and simply steered the conversation back on track.

“Anyway, from what I remember, the Famicom comes out in the early 80s. A short while after its release, a massive wave of pirated consoles hits the market. In Korea, almost every single Famicom sitting in a household will be a knockoff.”

<“And a lot of people bought them without even realizing it, right?”>

“Right. Parents would just walk into a game shop, ask for a console, and buy whatever was handed to them. Shop owners sold knockoffs at retail price—or maybe slightly cheaper—and if they pegged a customer as a sucker, they’d jack the price up way higher than the genuine article.”

<“Then why aren’t you going down that route?”>

“Because of my image.”

<“Image?”>

“Yeah. Down the line, I’m going to be the chairman of Samwoo Group. Imagine the narrative if people find out I amassed my initial fortune as a childhood bootlegger. That’s a mark that would 100% tarnish the corporate brand later on.”

<“You’re not wrong about that.”>

Before his regression, Yoongi hadn’t possessed the formal education of the elite. But after returning to the past, his sharp intuition allowed him to deeply analyze the events of his former, grueling life. If you taught a normal person that 1 + 1 equals 2, Yoongi was the type to intuitively internalize that $x + x = 2x$.

Because of this, he naturally shied away from easy money that brought future liability.

<“Then why not just set up a front man to run it?”>

“I thought about that too, but the problem is execution. Right now, the only person I can truly trust is Mr. Geun-tae. Running a storefront operation would require hiring at least ten new employees. If I’m going to carefully screen ten trustworthy people, I’d rather assign them to core corporate operations instead of basic retail.”

<“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”>

“At first, I thought I could just recall successful business models from the past and copy them, but it’s not that simple. I only have one body, and my capital is limited. If I don’t pursue maximum efficiency, I’m taking a hit on opportunity costs.”

<“So, who is this group with ‘purchasing power’ you’re talking about?”>

“The US military forces stationed in Korea.”

<“Ah!”>

Deokbae slapped his own forehead.

“Not every US soldier here is rich, of course. But every single one of them has more disposable income than the average Korean civilian right now. So, I’m going to build a department store in Cheonggyecheon catered exclusively to the US military.”

<“Cheonggyecheon—a place that was destined to become a holy land for bootleggers and nerds—turned into a department store for American troops… But isn’t that land plot a bit too huge just for one department store?”>

“I have plans for the rest of it, but it’s too early to discuss that now. As it stands, even though I borrowed money from Grandfather, capital is still tight.”

<“Speaking of which, how are you planning to cover that 17.4% annual interest rate? In four years, the interest alone is going to surpass the principal.”>

Yoongi flashed a confident smirk at Deokbae’s concern.

“Don’t worry. I have my methods for multiplying cash—plus, I’ve got Microsoft stock in my pocket, don’t I?”

<“Ah, right, right. Getting old must be making me senile.”>

“Ghosts can go senile?”

<“Who knows? Stick close to me and find out for yourself.”>

At Deokbae’s joke, both of them shared a laugh.

A US military-exclusive department store right in Cheonggyecheon. The heavy wheels of history rolling through Cheonggyecheon were officially shifting direction.

“Mr. Geun-tae, you mentioned my business entity is currently registered under publishing, correct?”

“That is correct, young master.”

At Ryu Geun-tae’s response, Yoongi cut straight to the point.

“Then please change the business category to general trading and commercial goods.”

“Trading…? But wouldn’t that put you in direct overlap with the Chairman’s operations?”

Geun-tae’s counsel was reasonable. Establishing a trading arm was, in a broad sense, declaring intent to compete directly with Choi Gihyeon.

“I don’t have much liquid capital right now. If I had deep pockets, I’d simply buy up shares of Samwoo Trading, convince Grandfather, and become the majority shareholder—but that’s impossible at the moment.”

“Mmm… that is certainly true. Which means the business sectors you are planning to branch into likely include tourism, international trade, leisure, and construction?”

“Bingo. I’m planning to build a department store for the US military in Cheonggyecheon.”

“In Cheonggyecheon?”

“Yes. I spent a lot of time weighing different business concepts, but considering the leverage I hold compared to others right now, this is the most optimal move.”

“Understood.”

Ever since growing close with Yoongi, Geun-tae would occasionally offer advice or ask questions, but fundamentally, he never crossed the line.

“Your task from here on out is simple: scout as many talented individuals in the construction industry into my company as you can.”

“So we aren’t breaking ground on construction immediately?”

“We can’t. You’re still my only employee.”

Knowing the reality of the situation all too well, Geun-tae offered an embarrassed laugh and scratched the back of his neck.

“On top of that, a department store of that scale will average around 700,000 won per pyeong in construction costs. Since we don’t have that kind of money on hand right now, we hire the workforce first to stabilize the corporate structure, and move into actual construction later.”

“Let’s see… In that case, will the construction firm operate as a subsidiary under the department store?”

“I’d prefer to do it the other way around.”

Drawing on his extensive past-life experience as a site laborer, Yoongi understood the capital structure of major construction firms, and gently corrected Geun-tae’s suggestion.

“Of course, that’s not something we need to worry about right this second. Depending on how things unfold, we can always pivot to an affiliate structure, so for now, focus entirely on recruitment.”

“Understood. Then I will make the establishment of the construction firm my top priority.”

“We don’t need outside investors for the construction firm. It will be funded 100% with my own capital.”

“Understood. What kind of timeframe am I working with?”

“I’ll give you two years.”

No matter how capable Geun-tae was, or how well he knew the talent landscape from his time in Samwoo Group’s executive office, this was a time-consuming task. Hearing a generous two-year window relieved his internal worry, and he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“That is more than enough time.”

“Let me be crystal clear, Mr. Geun-tae: I welcome talented connections, but I utterly despise incompetent people trying to build personal networks just to line their own pockets. I trust you know exactly what I mean by that.”

Geun-tae swallowed hard and gave a firm nod.

“I will keep that close to heart.”

Yoongi’s message was simple: Don’t go building useless factions under my roof.

Knowing full well that the ten-year-old boy sitting before him possessed the sharpness of a seasoned corporate executive, Geun-tae wiped any lingering stray thoughts completely clean from his mind.

“The official establishment of the construction company will be in ’79, and the department store grand opening will be in ’81. If you hit a gap between scouting someone and 1979, the company will cover their living expenses in the meantime.”

“Understood, sir!”

Four years until the grand opening of the department store. It seemed like plenty of time on the surface, but to Yoongi, it felt painfully short.

Choi Cheolmin, Deputy Manager at Samwoo Trading.

He held a deputy manager position at a respectable company, but Cheolmin was far from satisfied.

‘I didn’t graduate from Korea University just to end up doing this…’

In the late 1970s, a degree from Korea University was a ticket into far superior conglomerates than Samwoo Group. Yet the sole reason Cheolmin had joined Samwoo was his absolute confidence that he would eventually inherit the entire empire.

However, following his recent encounter with his father, that confidence had shattered, leaving behind a volatile mix of impatience and rage.

‘Damn it, damn it, damn it!’

Honestly, even if he couldn’t become the ultimate successor, Cheolmin easily could have inherited the chairmanship of a major subsidiary—so long as he refrained from crossing Yoongi. But in 1977, Samwoo Group was still a mid-tier player grinding away outside the top 100 corporate rankings. Because of this, Cheolmin overvalued his own abilities, routinely fantasizing about ditching a failing Samwoo to climb the corporate ladder at a rock-solid conglomerate as an executive instead.

The problem was that at 31 years old, Cheolmin had built zero actual track record to leverage for a lateral move.

‘This company was supposed to be mine anyway.’

Riding high as the Chairman’s second son, he had spent his career getting wined and dined while dumping all actual labor onto his bosses and subordinates. He was a deputy manager in title, but the undisputed king of his department.

Now, his frustration spilled over onto his wife, Park Gyeong-ja.

‘If I knew things would turn out like this, I should’ve married the daughter of a major corporate CEO.’

His rapidly emerging rival, Yoongi, had one massive advantage: a powerhouse maternal family. Cheolmin felt that if he wanted to compete with Yoongi—who enjoyed the backing of Brigadier General Colson—he needed a backing of equal weight.

Yet getting a divorce was hardly an option either. A second marriage, even for the second son of Samwoo Group, carried far less social prestige.

‘Damn it, love really blinded me.’

He should have married like his older brother did. Regret gnawed at Cheolmin as he recalled how blindly he had rushed into marriage back then.

‘If I can’t rely on my in-laws for backing, then the only option left is…’

After mulling over his thoughts for a moment, Cheolmin abruptly stood up from his desk.

“That’s it!”

His sudden outburst startled the department manager, who looked over in confusion.

“Deputy Choi, what’s going on…?”

“I have an urgent matter to take care of. I’m stepping out.”

It was 11:00 AM, right in the middle of core working hours. Cheolmin still hadn’t learned a single thing.

While chaebol families have their fair share of useless slackers like Choi Cheolmin, they also produce exceptionally capable heirs.

Leaving Choi Yoongi aside, even Choi Cheol-ho—despite lacking high-level management vision—boasted operational capabilities that were considered top-tier within Samwoo Group.

And naturally, there were other sharp minds in the bloodline.

Take Choi Cheol-gyu, the third son of Samwoo Group.

Currently serving as a deputy manager at Samwoo Chemical, Cheol-gyu watched Choi Cheolmin storm past him, letting out a cold, mocking sneer from deep within.