TOIGC 68

Chapter 68 …

Red-Hot Treatment (3)

Thud!

As Choi Chul-gyu set the box down on the table, Yoongi’s gaze drifted toward it.

The traditional sweets (hangwa) scattered haphazardly across the table, alongside a thick stack of one hundred 100,000-won bills inside the box. At a glance, it looked like a corrupt executive caught red-handed taking bribes, but Yoongi just let out a light chuckle at the sight.

“Uncle, looks like your pockets got a little heavier today too.” “You’re telling me. When guys think money can solve everything and bring stuff like this right to my doorstep, I’m certainly not going to complain.”

The atmosphere was remarkably peaceful. That was because Yoongi hadn’t prohibited accepting bribes in the first place.

To be precise, he had issued a standing instruction not to turn down bribes outright at the first pass. The types of people who offered bribes were the kind who would use any means necessary to get ahead in business. Because of that, you never really knew what kind of unpredictable retaliation they might pull if flat out rejected. So, Yoongi had instructed Ryu Geun-tae and Choi Chul-gyu that if they ever received a bribe, they could keep it entirely—provided they reported it to him first.

If a report came in and the bribe involved a particularly dangerous or sensitive sector, Yoongi would order it returned, and both Choi Chul-gyu and Ryu Geun-tae would comply without a word. In a different era, this kind of tactic would have been perilous due to wiretaps or hidden cameras, but this was the early 1980s. Even if someone accepted a bribe, denying it happened was usually the end of the story. Bribery investigations during this era typically only became problematic if tangible favors or benefits were actually delivered in exchange. Looking at someone like Kim Soon-ho earlier, he had handed over the bribe and basically turned himself into a sucker; even if he tried to report the bribery to the police later down the line, YK Department Store wouldn’t take a scratch.

Moreover, considering the ties between YK Department Store and the new military regime, Kim Soon-ho might even run the risk of getting dragged straight into the National Security Planning Agency. All they had to do was squeeze him over where his money suddenly vanished and casually imply he might be funneling funds to North Korea, and the case would close itself.

“Squeezing money out of bastards trying to get ahead through illegal means is dead simple. You just take the bribe and don’t give them a damn thing in return.” “Well, only because it’s us pulling the strings.”

Yoongi smiled at Choi Chul-gyu’s remark, took a seat across from him, and picked up a piece of hangwa.

“This tastes absolute garbage. Looks like some shop must have had it sitting in storage for a year or two.” “He didn’t buy it knowing that. The seller probably just unloaded expired stock quietly.” “True. A housewife tells a vendor to toss in an extra fish and sneaks another mackerel out of the tub when he’s not looking; the vendor sells imported frozen mackerel while passing it off as fresh domestic catch, and then that same vendor gets ripped off at another shop… I suppose that’s just how the economic world works.”

In management, taking care of your own family matters far more than blind morality.

Having firmly chosen his path, Yoongi had zero intention of changing that mindset. Because of it, the people in his inner circle were steadily building an unbreakable bedrock of loyalty toward him. The simple fact that the construction office crew volunteered for overtime without being asked was proof enough of that.

“That aside, Yoongi, there’s something I’m curious about.” “Go ahead.” “I’ve been following your orders without asking questions, but aren’t we handing over the ultra-luxury brands to the mini department stores a bit too easily? Sure, we’re only giving them to the stores run by the core power elites, but at this rate, there won’t be a single luxury item left to sell at the main department store.”

Choi Chul-gyu’s confusion was entirely justified. The sheer number of mini department stores was massive. While the ultimate goal was to build a sprawling commercial complex meaning most locations would stock mid-to-low-tier goods, a select few were unquestionably slated to carry luxury goods. Considering the number of those specific stores alongside projected demand for ultra-luxury brands, the inventory left over for the main department store was bound to be razor-thin. In the worst-case scenario, it could dry up to zero.

“That’s deliberate.” “Huh? On purpose?”

Letting out a slightly blank sound, Choi Chul-gyu quickly organized his thoughts.

If the sales revenue from selling luxury goods at the main department store is a hundred percent, the revenue from selling them through a mini department store is maybe forty percent—isn’t that gap a bit too wide?

However, Yoongi’s next words completely cleared up his doubts.

“Think about it carefully. Just because YK Department Store carries an ultra-luxury brand, how many people do you think would actually make the trip out just to buy it?” “Ah… objectively speaking, customers don’t really have much of an incentive to trek all the way there just for that.” “Right? But if we hand those ultra-luxury brands over to the relatives of the political elite, the whole dynamic changes. Because those ultra-luxury goods instantly transform into a direct communication channel to the center of political power.”

Only then did Choi Chul-gyu nod in realization.

“Ah, I assumed we’d be allocating mid-to-high-tier brands to the elites’ relatives to serve as those communication channels. I thought the ultra-luxury brands were supposed to be kept exclusive to the main store precisely to maintain its premium brand equity.”

When Choi Chul-gyu had originally persuaded JSD, he had used the promise of prioritizing mid-to-high-tier brands for their relatives as a selling point, which was why he had harbored these doubts operating on limited information.

“You missed the mark a bit. I actually intend to hand over the ultra-luxury brands. Once those ultra-luxury goods start functioning as lines of communication with the ruling class, before you know it, practically every chaebol family will feel compelled to carry at least one of them. Why? Because owning that brand will serve as living proof that ‘I’m close with so-and-so.'”

“Oh…! That’s why you didn’t split up the mini department stores by brand, but instead divided them by specific product lines within those brands!”

“Exactly. A shop run by one general’s relative might stock handbags, while another general’s relative handles watches. And that triggers a compounding effect.” “What kind of effect?” “If you buy goods from General A’s shop, but you don’t patronize General B’s shop—who happens to be close with General A—that becomes a glaring Achilles’ heel.” “Ho, meaning they’re forced to buy one or two more things just to keep up appearances?” “Spot on. Before long, chaebols will be draped in luxury items from head to toe, and that trend will inevitably bleed down into the middle class. Meanwhile, the working class will buy decent, well-made goods tailored to their own wage levels.” “Good lord…” “That’s why we’re currently scaling up the factory size at Jeil Textile. Did you know that?” “What? Seriously?” “Yes. We might not be able to manufacture actual luxury labels ourselves, but what if a brand that semi-monopolizes the aesthetic of those luxury labels starts producing stylish, high-quality clothes at a reasonable price point? We’d be carving out an entirely new market.” “Good lord…”

Choi Chul-gyu’s jaw dropped.

What Yoongi had just outlined sounded like the kind of wild delusions someone might dream up over drinks at a bar. Yet, the terrifying reality that Yoongi was actively turning those delusions into concrete, executable plans sent a violent chill running straight down Choi Chul-gyu’s spine. Who on earth could dream up a master plan like this, execute it, and actually pull it off?

“Adults’ luxury goods are being handled through the new military regime’s heavy hitters, while teenagers’ luxury goods are something I’m currently laying the groundwork for behind the scenes. Once this trend takes root, a time will come when people stop buying luxury goods purely as political tokens. Do you really think mini department stores will track every single person they sell to forever? Besides, luxury brands aren’t just limited to ultra-high-end tiers.” “True, true.” “That’s when we roll out special promotional campaigns at the main department store. Sales, exclusive events, whatever we like. That’s why I embedded specific clauses into the contracts.”

Just as Yoongi mentioned, the contracts stipulated tiered settlement ratios based on sales volume for certain product lines allocated to the mini department stores. While the initial shipment might offer a forty percent cut, it was structured to scale up to eighty percent over time. Furthermore, pricing was strictly locked in by the main department store, and any promotional sales required prior corporate approval.

By modern standards, these were textbook poison pill clauses, but in this era, they passed as perfectly reasonable and logical terms. The political elites’ relatives signed because they believed in the absolute power of the military regime, while everyone else signed because it was the hottest emerging business venture in the country.

“It’s no wonder people around here joke that you should have been the father and your older brother the son.” “Dad played his role as the dad, which is the only reason I’m here right now. I’m the luckiest son in the world.”

Watching Yoongi’s warm, content smile, Choi Chul-gyu caught a rare glimpse of him looking like an ordinary, happy young man.

“So, if we define the distance between this circle and that circle as x…”

While the mathematics class droned on, Yoongi was reading a book completely unrelated to the textbook on his desk. Yet, the math teacher didn’t dare discipline him for it. Because he was top of the school? That wasn’t entirely wrong, but the reality was a bit more nuanced.

No matter how much money Yoongi spent to secure freedom during class hours, some teacher always inevitably popped up who refused to listen to the principal. The math teacher happened to be precisely that type. Even though he had received direct instructions from the principal—alongside a hefty under-the-table bonus funded by the school—he constantly tried to undermine Yoongi during lectures. Even when Yoongi scored a perfect 100 and ranked first in the entire school, it hadn’t stopped the harassment, eventually forcing the principal to make both of them sit for an old Seoul National University entrance-level advanced math exam.

The results? Yoongi scored the equivalent of 96 out of 100, while the math teacher managed a meager 81. You’d think that would be enough to make him back off, but driven by the bitter inferiority complex of losing to a student, the math teacher only doubled down on his petty vendetta, eventually resulting in a plainclothes police officer paying a visit to the school.

Though the math teacher was dragged off to the National Security Planning Agency and returned just an hour later, he never dared cross Yoongi ever again. Thanks to that quiet resolution, Yoongi was finally free to focus on preparing for his upcoming Hermès modeling shoot.

The books Yoongi was currently studying were introductory guides intended for professional models and photographers. He had zero intention of becoming a model or a photographer, but recognizing the immense strategic leverage this shoot would yield, he was laying down thorough, in-depth groundwork.

“Yoongi, what kind of book is that?”

Jin-soo, who was trying his best to study, found Yoongi’s foreign-language reading material completely impenetrable and passed the buck to Won-hee.

“Hey Won-hee, what is this book about?” “H-huh?”

Startled, Won-hee nervously picked up Yoongi’s book.

“The title seems to mean something like ‘What is a Subject?'” “And the contents?” “Uh… the contents are…”

Cold sweat began trickling down Won-hee’s sideburns before he abruptly shoved the book back toward Jin-soo.

“You study it and read it! Can’t even read this much?” “You jerk! You can’t read it either!”

Watching Won-hee and Jin-soo bicker like a pair of younger brothers, Yoongi intentionally kept quiet about the fact that he was heading out for a Hermès shoot. Spelling everything out in advance would only ruin the surprise factor. Amused by their goofy squabbling, Yoongi chuckled softly, and the two boys, seemingly running out of energy to fight, exchanged wry, defeated smiles.

And then, after school. Yoongi summoned Cho Chung-woo to the study once again.

“You know what we’re here to talk about, right?” “Gasp!”

Staring at the towering stack of books piled neatly on the table once more, Cho Chung-woo let out a sharp gasp that sounded remarkably like a shriek.

“W-wait a minute. Weren’t we supposed to go do a photoshoot today, not sign contracts?”

As Cho Chung-woo spoke in a rushed, frantic tone, Yoongi flashed him a smile resembling a benevolent Buddha.

“That’s just a side gig, naturally. You didn’t really think that was the only reason I’m heading to Japan, did you?”