TOIGC 28

Chapter 28 …

No Way to Samwoo Trading (1)

The moment his uncle shut him down with that stone-cold look, Ryu Geun-tae snapped right back to reality.

‘Ah, damn it. I shouldn’t have brought it up like that…’

The sheer pressure of meeting Yoongi’s high expectations had driven him to blurt out something so reckless it sounded like a grade-schooler’s pipedream.

“I don’t even know what you’re on about. Buy my company? What is that supposed to mean? Are you planning to run a firm of your own or something?”

Watching his uncle barrage him with questions, Geun-tae swallowed hard and forced himself to stay grounded, feeling a quiet sense of relief.

‘I’m lucky he’s my uncle. If he were the head of some random mid-sized firm, he would’ve thrown me out of the office by now. Get a grip, Geun-tae. Being stressed isn’t an excuse for sloppy slip-ups.’

It was a massive blunder. But because he’d made it in front of family, it turned out to be a valuable wake-up call.

“I’m really sorry, Uncle. I jumped straight to the point without giving you any context.”

“Did you go around spewing this nonsense to other companies, too?”

“N-no, sir. Your company is the very first one I’ve approached like this.”

“So you’ve been knocking on individual doors, then. What on earth do you actually need? Are you seriously planning to launch a construction firm?”

After taking a deep breath to steady his nerves one last time, Geun-tae began laying everything out.

“Uncle, you know I’ve been working in the executive office at Samwoo Group, right?”

“Of course I know. When our family finally got a Korea University grad, I figured you’d land a cushy spot at a top giant like Samsung. Seeing your path was what opened my eyes to how brutal regional politics and corporate walls really are in this country.”

Kim Jeong-seon lit a cigarette with a bitter smile, blew out a thick cloud of smoke, and looked at his nephew with the cigarette casually pinched between his index and middle fingers.

“Well, you practicing your Seoul dialect was all part of dealing with those regional barriers, wasn’t it, Uncle?”

“I suppose so. Running a business solely on local regional contracts is no walk in the park, after all. Anyway… is that all you had to say?”

Geun-tae shook his head.

“No, sir. I was recently transferred out of the Chairman’s main office. I haven’t mentioned this to you yet, right?”

“What? Did you get demoted?”

“No, it wasn’t a demotion. I was assigned exclusively to serve the Chairman’s eldest grandson.”

“His eldest grandson, not his son? Is the Chairman that old already? The grandson must be deep into the family business to have his own personal secretary.”

“Actually, no. The eldest grandson is still a minor.”

Jeong-seon looked completely baffled.

“They parachuted a middle school dropout into management?”

“He hasn’t even finished elementary school yet, Uncle. He’s ten years old.”

Jeong-seon accidentally dropped his cigarette right onto his lap.

“They took a Korea University graduate like you and made you a secretary for a ten-year-old kid?! Is the Chairman out of his mind?!”

Geun-tae waved his hands frantically.

“No, Uncle, you don’t understand! I hit the absolute jackpot.”

Jeong-seon leapt out of his chair.

“Hey! That’s absolute garbage! Did the Chairman promise he’d ‘take care of you down the line’? The people who promise to take care of you later are the absolute last bastions you should ever trust in this world! It’s as dangerous as co-signing a loan! Just quit! Bust your butt under me for five years and I’ll hand you a department director position!”

Watching his uncle fly into a protective rage warmed Geun-tae’s heart, but he picked up the fallen cigarette and calmed him down first. Sitting back down, Jeong-seon popped the stray cigarette back into his mouth, though his scowl didn’t soften one bit.

“The young master isn’t your average ten-year-old. Academically, he’s already at a high school level… no, scratch that. His English is practically native, and his grasp of business administration matches a college junior.”

“A ten-year-old…? Are you serious? If that’s true, the kid’s a straight-up genius…”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! When the Chief of Staff first handed down the order, I thought I was being pushed out, too. After all, I only got into Samwoo Group because a friend pulled some strings for me.”

“But once you got down there, you realized the kid was the real deal?”

“Yes. You’re my uncle, so I’m telling you this in absolute confidence: if things keep going like this, the succession of Samwoo Group might skip an entire generation.”

Jeong-seon burst out laughing at his nephew’s passionate pitch.

“Come on, even for a genius, that’s absurd. Sure, his father might step aside if his own son is taking the throne, but does the Chairman have no other children? That makes zero sense.”

“It’s not just a pipe dream! The young master already owns his own business entity and holds the title of CEO.”

“Hey, that’s a classic trick! Plenty of chaebols hand down early inheritances to their grandkids through shell companies. He’s a CEO in name only—a total figurehead.”

“He is not! Just look at these.”

Geun-tae unzipped his briefcase and pulled out a stack of carefully prepared documents. His former university classmates had turned him down cold before he could even open his bag, making his uncle the very first person to actually see them.

“What’s all this?”

“This is a breakdown of the young master’s current asset holdings. I was only supposed to show a fraction of it, but I’m laying it all out for you, Uncle.”

“How much are we talking?”

“Just over 400 million won.”

In today’s terms, that was equivalent to well over 3 billion won—an astronomical sum for a ten-year-old boy to control.

“It’s certainly impressive, I’ll give him that… But diving into running a real company with that money is a completely different ballgame. From what you’re saying, it sounds like the young master wants to try his hand at running a construction firm, but I have no intention of risking my livelihood on a rich kid playing businessman.”

It was a grounded, intensely realistic response—and one delivered far more politely than usual precisely because it was his nephew asking.

“Uncle, please, just take a close look at this page.”

Jeong-seon was honestly getting a bit annoyed, but out of sympathy for his desperate nephew, he glanced down at the paper thrust toward him.

“Microsoft? What is this?”

“It’s a small tech company in the United States.”

“What about it?”

“The young master plans to invest $200,000 upfront, bringing his total investment to $700,000.”

“In a small, unknown company? Seven hundred thousand dollars?!”

Jeong-seon’s brows knitted tight.

“Look at their revenue trajectory right here.”

“How high can a small firm’s revenue really…”

Under normal circumstances, Microsoft’s revenue would have sat around $100,000 in 1976 and hit $1 million in 1978. But on the chart Jeong-seon was staring at, the line surged steeply upward starting right around the summer.

“Things suddenly took off in the summer for some reason?”

“Yes. Summer is when the young master injected his capital.”

Thanks to Yoongi’s massive cash infusion, Microsoft had been able to settle its drawn-out legal battle with MITS a full year ahead of schedule—a dispute that originally would have dragged out until 1978 through parental connections. With the lawsuit cleared early, Microsoft had accelerated its partnership with IBM and expanded its revenue streams rapidly across other sectors.

“Hmm… Are you telling me this investment was entirely the kid’s own call?”

“I swear it was! I’ve been standing right beside him, watching in real time proof that I wasn’t demoted.”

The look in Jeong-seon’s eyes shifted, taking on a sharper, more business-oriented edge.

“Alright, let me ask you straight. What exactly does your young master plan to do once he gets or builds a construction firm?”

“Construction, obviously. But I can’t share the exact specifics yet. The CEO gave me a two-year window, so we’ll have to wait another twenty months or so before the full picture emerges.”

“What? Twenty months?!”

Jeong-seon let out a stunned chuckle.

“Look… you can’t build a functioning construction firm out of thin air with total rookies. That’s why the CEO gave me two years. But some things just feel impossible no matter how much time you have. My university peers won’t even look at Samwoo, and I can’t build a team out of greenhorns… That’s when I thought of you, Uncle.”

“Which is why you rushed in here earlier begging me to sell?”

“…Yes, sir.”

Watching his nephew flush red with embarrassment, Jeong-seon let out a heavy sigh.

“Geun-tae.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Let’s say I humor you and put my company under your young master’s umbrella.”

“Yes!”

“What are we supposed to do for the next twenty months?”

“Well, you’d keep running your usual operations until the main project kicks off, and once the wheels start turning, we’d simply stop taking on outside contracts…”

Watching his nephew explain a model meant to preserve the company’s existing framework, Jeong-seon immediately hit him with a harder question.

“Fine. Let’s say we run things your way. But if this young master buys us out and ends up owning over fifty percent, what happens if he turns around and fires all of us?”

It was the classic risk when a single entity took controlling interest. That exact fear was why Microsoft had agonized over Yoongi’s massive investment—and why they had ultimately accepted it, seeing his passion was real. But Yoongi hadn’t shown that kind of raw passion for the construction sector yet, making Jeong-seon’s skepticism completely reasonable.

“If your young master is looking for a short-term project rather than a long-haul venture, wouldn’t it make more sense for him to just hire us as a contractor? Since it’s your referral, I’ll slice the contract price down as low as I possibly can.”

It was a major concession made out of affection for his nephew. Geun-tae knew his uncle was bending over backward to offer a compromise, but he felt it was far too valuable an opportunity to drop right here.

“Uncle… would you be willing to meet the CEO in person first?”

“Your uncle’s company?”

At Yoongi’s question, Ryu Geun-tae bowed his head deep.

“I am truly sorry, Boss. I didn’t do this just to abuse my personal connections—it was simply the only viable path I had left.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes… Initially, I reached out to my university alumni, but to be completely honest, none of them had the slightest interest in joining anything tied to Samwoo Group.”

Geun-tae spoke with total candor, trusting the character he had observed in Yoongi.

“That makes sense.”

“Next, I considered poaching people who had left Samwoo Group, but I realized that if we absorbed them, it could lead to severe internal friction with Samwoo personnel once your business grows down the line.”

“Hmm.”

Yoongi nodded, finding Geun-tae’s reasoning entirely sound.

“The same goes for Samwoo’s current subcontractors. Most sub-contractors smile to the main office staff’s faces, but talk trash behind their backs until they’re reduced to dust… Honestly, we used to do the exact same thing back when we were on the sub-contractor side.”

“You’ve really thought this through from every angle.”

Geun-tae gave a tight, difficult nod.

“I tried to, sir. So if we want to build a team, we have to hire entirely from the outside. But the only people willing to actually hear me out were those in my personal network… which is how I ended up knocking on my uncle’s door first.”

“But your uncle is a sharp, practical businessman, meaning I need to meet him in person.”

“Precisely, Boss. I know his mind will change the moment he meets you himself.”

Unconsciously, Geun-tae had swapped his form of address from ‘young master’ to ‘Boss.’ Pitching Yoongi’s merits so fiercely to his uncle had solidified his loyalty in his own heart. Yoongi had been thinking about formalizing their working titles anyway, so Geun-tae’s spontaneous shift left him quietly pleased.

“Very well. Let’s set up a meeting. I need to see with my own eyes whether Secretary Ryu made the right call.”

It wasn’t a statement about passing the uncle’s test—it was a declaration that Yoongi would be testing the uncle himself. Standing before that sheer confidence, Geun-tae swallowed hard on instinct.

The meeting between Yoongi and Kim Jeong-seon took place right in Jeong-seon’s own office, meaning Yoongi had traveled a considerable distance for it.

Since Jeong-seon still had little reason to trust his nephew’s claims, this setup was natural. Yoongi, knowing this dynamic would work to his advantage later on, maintained a perfectly unreadable composure.

“You’ve arri—ah, welcome, sir.”

Jeong-seon had almost defaulted to informal speech given Yoongi’s age, but catching himself, he quickly adjusted to polite honorifics, remembering the boy was the eldest grandson of Samwoo Group.

It helped that Yoongi possessed striking, mature features—looking easily two or three years older than his age—a sharp, handsome look inherited from his mother that instantly commanded respect.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“Of course, it was Geun-tae’s request. Please, take a seat.”

Once everyone sat down under Jeong-seon’s guidance, an employee popped in to place refreshments on the table before quietly slipping out, officially kicking off the discussion.

“Given our situation, I don’t see any reason to waste time dancing around the point. Please ask whatever you’re curious about, and I will answer with total transparency.”

Jeong-seon nodded at Yoongi’s directness. He hadn’t come here to waste time either.

“I like a man who gets straight to business. Fair enough. Tell me: why aren’t you routing this deal through Samwoo Trading?”