"Oh, all yours." Lee Jin-woo slid the bowl over, doting.
IU nodded wildly, hands clasped, swaying happily.
Soon, she asked cautiously, "President-ssi, can I make a tiny request?"
"Ne, go ahead." He smiled, nodding.
"Ne~ Um… can I call you Uncle?" IU stared, hopeful.
"Hm?" His brow arched, an imposing vibe making IU lower her head, thumbs fidgeting at her chest.
"Fine, I agree. Eat up!" He reached over, patting her head.
IU sprang to life, cheeks red, nodding, popping mixed beef into her mouth.
"Mm~" Eyes closed, savoring the bliss, her heart swelled with joy.
Aish, if time could freeze here, with President-ssi…
No, Uncle.
Staying with Uncle forever—how perfect would that be?
Well-fed and tipsy, the group piled into the Land Rover, Driver Kim taking them to the company.
"Settling into the dorm okay?"
"Mm, Manager-unnie helped decorate. It's cozy, like home. Wanna see, Uncle?"
"No need. Like it, that's enough." He sighed. What's her little head thinking?
Inviting the President to a female artist's dorm at midnight? Handing paparazzi a scoop?
Aish, this kid, ruining his rep.
If she weren't so young, he'd show her Uncle's power.
Back at the company, he rushed to the top floor.
"Where's Ji-yeon noona? Still waiting?" Stepping off the elevator, he acted urgent.
"President, here." Ha Joo-hee bowed, pointing to Kim Ji-yeon in the corner.
"Ah~ Sister-in-law, why no call? Sorry for the wait."
"Just passing by, wanted to see you. No biggie."
"Let's talk in the office. Secretary Ha, coffee."
"No need." Kim Ji-yeon pressed her stomach. "I can't drink another drop."
Two hours waiting, countless coffees, two bathroom trips—she'd be up all night.
In the office, Lee Jin-woo cut to it. "Ji-yeon noona, here for that thing."
"Ah, haha, not exactly, but since I'm here, what's your answer?"
"I refuse." No hesitation, he rejected her terms.
"…Jin-woo, something off? We can talk more."
He raised a hand, cutting off her urgency.
"Ssangyong Chemical, the hotel—I'm not interested. You know what I want, noona."
Kim Ji-yeon's face tightened, hesitant. "Jin-woo, we… it's not right."
"What're you thinking?" He laughed. "Ssangyong Motors. That's what I want."
Greed swallowing an elephant—his demand nailed it.
Ssangyong Motors was a massive headache.
"Why'd you want that? It's a mess."
She didn't hide it; no point.
Ssangyong Motors' woes weren't new. Since a foreign firm took over three years ago, tensions flared.
Labor vs. management exposed the union's iron grip.
Annual output: 100,000 vehicles. Workforce: 8,000.
Compare to GM—1.5 million vehicles, 20,000 workers.
Worse, a third of Ssangyong's 8,000 were union members, 2,600+ idle, paid to stir trouble.
Losses piled up, yet wages rose yearly. No raise? Union-led strikes.
Outsiders didn't know until a Chinese firm's takeover bared it all.
Now, Ssangyong Motors bled market share from funding gaps, mergers, and labor clashes.
Its rep tanked.
Only iron stomachs could stomach it.
"Leave the union to me. Just say yes or no, noona."
"Of course, not now… Next year, July or August, should be fine."
Her 2% stake, worth ~25 billion, selling would help.
With that cash, she could fend off family moves to reclaim her company.
"I need time to think."
"No rush. Nine months to July. Plenty of time."
"Jin-woo, you've changed. Stronger, more confident."
"Maybe that's the cost of living alone."
After Kim Ji-yeon left, Ha Joo-hee knocked. "President, Driver Kim has a report."
"Let him in." He paused. "No need to report on Driver Kim from now on."
"Ne." Ha Joo-hee left, closing the door.
"President, Chief Ahn handled it." Driver Kim said.
With Chief Ahn, Lee Jin-woo trusted it was clean.
In Korea, chaebols held sway.
But not unchecked, as outsiders thought.
Daewoo's collapse, its founder's flight, Hyundai's chairman groveling, or Samsung's future purge—vowing no heirs in management, allowing unions—proved it.
Chaebols and government clashed endlessly.
The prosecution, especially, saw chaebols as ladders to glory.
A risky path, but some chased it, dreaming of hero status and political stardom.
Prosecutors hunted chaebols like rabid dogs until bigwigs cut deals or one side yielded enough to satisfy all.
Hence chaebols married promising prosecutors.
And why so many fought to pass the bar, join the prosecutorial ranks.
One case could change your fate.
Targeting chaebols also vented public frustration, a government tool.
Like U.S. wars abroad, modern stress needed an outlet.
No pressure valve? Everyone's doomed.
Luckily, Quanzhou's Lee family was neither chaebol nor government.
Mediators, buffers, cozy with both, never fully siding.
If pushed, they leaned government—barely.
U.S.-backed chaebols were fierce.
Without muscle, how do you talk?
So, public power solved issues faster for Chief Ahn than chaebol aid.
They were often trench-mates, after all.
"Hm, Chief Ahn here?"
"En route, five minutes."
"Hm~ Get busy. Have Secretary Ha brew two coffees."
"Got it." Driver Kim left briskly.
Five minutes later, Ha Joo-hee brought two steaming coffees, followed by an unfamiliar man.
Black rimless glasses, messy short hair, like an anime character.
Lean, sharp in a tailored suit.
"Chief Ahn, you're here." Lee Jin-woo smiled, setting down his phone.
"Ne, you okay?" Chief Ahn bowed.
"Sit. I'm right here. What do you think?"
"Looks good. Stronger, more mature than three years ago."
"Yeah?" He sipped coffee, blowing on it. "Thanks for the trouble."
"Save thanks for later… Prosecution says five years. Your call now."
"Just five?" Lee Jin-woo raised a brow.
Chief Ahn adjusted his glasses, refined. "Well, you made it too obvious."
"Obvious?" Thinking how Kim didn't even stand, he cursed inwardly.
Should've given him a few seconds to charge, collide.
"Got it. I'll be careful next time."
Chief Ahn paused, unsure if he was serious or joking.
Again?
"Not my place, but for someone of your status, that was reckless."
"Just good timing. Didn't want to waste effort on it."
"Still risky… Need more men from the family?"
"No need. Driver Kim's enough, no?"
Chief Ahn dipped his head, smiling faintly. "Ne, your call."
"Five years… Have him hand over his artists' contracts, take his money, and leave Seoul."
"That's it?"
"Not enough? Too much draws public eyes."
"Ne, I'll handle it. Anything else?"
Lee Jin-woo drained his coffee, sighing contentedly. "Ah~ Damn good."
"One thing… Pass a message: the subprime crisis isn't over. Doubt it? Watch Fannie and Freddie."
Slapping his thigh, he strode out. "Heading back. Aigoo, what a tiring day. How's it so exhausting?"
Watching him go, Chief Ahn chuckled silently. "Tch, what's this guy?"
But his parting "message" wiped away calm.
So Jo Young-joon's U.S. trip was for this?
The Fed stepped in, things stabilized—why say the crisis lingers?
What risks hid in Fannie and Freddie?
If true, the national pension's overseas bets were in peril.
No good. He had to confirm, fast.
(End of Chapter)
(notes: Fannie Mae (Federal National Mortgage Association) Freddie Mac (Federal Home Loan Mortgage Corporation) )