The view from the CEO's office was panoramic, offering a clear line of sight to the National Assembly. It was a view designed to make the occupant feel like a master of the universe.
Jin Seo-yoon, the newly appointed CEO, did not feel like a master. She felt like a substitute teacher in a classroom of delinquents.
"They are stalling," Seo-yoon said, throwing a procurement report onto the coffee table. "The Vietnam Resort project. The Songdo Condo complex. Every time I ask for a cost breakdown, the Executive Directors give me excuses. 'System migration,' 'Vendor renegotiation,' 'Lost files'."
Kang Min-jun sat on the leather sofa, reading a book on geopolitical strategy. He looked at ease, a stark contrast to Seo-yoon’s visible tension.
"They are testing you," Min-jun said, turning a page. "They think you are a figurehead. A 'Princess' put in place by the creditors to look pretty while the banks prepare to sell the company in pieces."
"It's not just testing. It's sabotage," Seo-yoon poured herself a glass of water. "Managing Director Kim—the Head of Procurement—is a loyalist of my father. He’s been with the company for 30 years. He controls the supply chain. If I fire him without cause, the unions will strike, and the projects will halt. We can't afford a halt. We are still in technical default."
Min-jun closed his book. He knew this phase. The "Post-Acquisition Indigestion." Buying a company was easy. Fixing it was war.
"You can't fire him for loyalty," Min-jun agreed. "But you can fire him for theft."
"Theft? The auditors from Samil PwC are still crawling all over the building. They haven't found any direct embezzlement since Hyuk-jae left."
"Direct embezzlement is amateur hour," Min-jun stood up. "Hyuk-jae stole cash. That's clumsy. The Old Guard? They steal margin. It’s called Tunneling."
Min-jun walked to the large map of Daegwang's active construction sites.
"Seo-yoon. Why is our concrete cost 15% higher than the industry average? Why do we pay a premium for steel rebar when global steel prices are crashing due to the Chinese glut?"
"Director Kim says it's for 'Premium Quality Assurance'."
"Bullshit," Min-jun said softly. "It's because the concrete supplier is owned by his brother-in-law. And the steel distributor is owned by his wife's shell company. They buy cheap, sell high to Daegwang, and pocket the difference. They are tunneling the profits out of the company before the creditors can claim them."
"Do you have proof?"
"Not yet. But I know how to get it. We don't need a forensic accountant. We need a truck driver."
May 20, 2018. Paju Construction Site. 05:30 AM.
The dawn mist hung heavy over the massive apartment complex construction site. The air smelled of wet cement and dust. Trucks were lined up at the gate, engines idling.
Min-jun sat in a parked car across the street. Beside him was Oh Jae-il, the CTO of Hermes Logistics.
"Are the sensors active?" Min-jun asked.
"Yes," Jae-il typed on his laptop. "We installed GPS trackers on ten of the Hermes trucks that are sub-contracted to deliver materials here. We also scraped the license plate data of the other vendors."
Min-jun watched a cement mixer rumble through the gate. Daegwang Concrete Co. was painted on the side.
"Trace that truck," Min-jun pointed.
Jae-il tapped a key. A map popped up. "Okay. License plate 82-Ga-9091. It picked up the load at the Remicon factory in Incheon at 3:00 AM."
"And the invoice?"
"According to the Daegwang internal system you hacked... access granted... okay. The invoice says the concrete is 'Grade A High-Strength', sourced from Hanjin Cement."
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Min-jun narrowed his eyes. "But where did the truck actually stop?"
Jae-il zoomed in on the GPS history. "Wait. It didn't go to Hanjin Cement. It stopped at a small yard in Gimpo for 45 minutes. Then it came here."
"The switch," Min-jun said. "They buy cheap, low-grade concrete from a generic supplier in Gimpo. They swap the paperwork. They bill us for Grade A Hanjin Cement. The margin is... roughly 30%."
"That's illegal. And dangerous. If that building cracks..."
"They don't care. They think they'll be retired by then."
Min-jun watched another truck enter. "Jae-il. Map out the entire vendor network. Cross-reference the corporate registration of every supplier with the family trees of our Executive Directors. Use the Hanseong Ilbo database Ye-eun gave us access to."
"You want a relationship map?"
"I want a hit list."
May 28, 2018. Daegwang Construction HQ. Monthly Executive Meeting.
The conference room was filled with men in their 50s and 60s. They looked relaxed, comfortable in their power. They nodded politely at CEO Jin Seo-yoon, but their eyes held a hint of mockery. Little girl playing boss.
Managing Director Kim (Procurement) cleared his throat. "CEO Jin. Regarding the cost-cutting initiative... it is difficult. The raw material market is volatile. We recommend delaying the vendor audit until next year."
"I agree," the VP of Operations nodded. "Disrupting the supply chain now would endanger the timeline."
Seo-yoon sat at the head of the table. She looked at Min-jun, who was sitting silently in the corner, listed as "Strategic Advisor."
Min-jun gave a barely perceptible nod.
Seo-yoon opened a file folder. "Director Kim. Who is 'Morning Star Supplies'?"
Director Kim blinked. A micro-expression of panic crossed his face, instantly masked. "A... steel distributor. Long-time partner. Very reliable."
"We pay them 800 won per kg for rebar," Seo-yoon read. "The market price is 650 won."
"As I said, premium quality. Logistics speed."
"Funny," Seo-yoon slid a photo across the table. It was a photo of a run-down warehouse in Gimpo with a sign: Morning Star Supplies. Parked in front was a Mercedes S-Class. License Plate: 33-Ju-1992.
"That's your wife's car, isn't it, Director?"
The room went deadly silent. The air conditioning hummed loudly.
"And here," Seo-yoon slid another document. "A corporate registry. The owner of Morning Star is listed as Lee Sang-chul. Your brother-in-law."
Director Kim stood up, his face turning red. "This... this is a violation of privacy! Who gave you this? That spy in the corner?" He pointed at Min-jun.
"Sit down," Min-jun spoke for the first time. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of 30% equity ownership.
"We audited the last 5 years of procurement," Min-jun stood up and walked to the table. He placed a thick stack of papers in the center.
"Tunneling. Vendor fraud. Tax evasion. We calculate the total loss to Daegwang Construction at roughly 40 Billion Won."
Min-jun looked around the table at the pale faces of the Old Guard. "Director Kim. You have two choices. Option A: We hand this file to the Prosecutors. You go to prison for embezzlement and breach of trust. The NTS audits your family."
Director Kim slumped into his chair, defeated. "And Option B?"
"Option B: You resign. Today. For 'Health Reasons'. You sign a confession admitting to the markup, and you repay the 40 billion won from your... personal savings. We know you have it."
Min-jun leaned over the table.
"And the rest of you," he looked at the other executives. "This is your amnesty window. If you have a 'Morning Star' in your ledger, kill it today. Renegotiate the contracts to market price. If I find one won of leakage next month... there will be no Option B."
The executives looked down at their notebooks. The resistance was broken. They realized the "Princess" wasn't alone. She had a Butcher.
June 1, 2018. Mirue Partners.
"We recovered 15 Billion Won immediately," Seo-yoon said over the phone. "Director Kim liquidated his real estate to pay us back. He's terrified of prison."
"Good," Min-jun said. "Use that cash to pay down the high-interest bonds. Clean up the balance sheet."
"You're terrifying, Min-jun. The staff calls you the 'Grim Reaper' now."
"Someone has to be. How is the stock?"
"Up 10% on the news of 'Operational Efficiency Improvements'."
"Keep it up. We need the stock high for what comes next."
Min-jun hung up. He looked at his monitor. The internal war at Daegwang was under control. The leak was plugged. Now he had to look outward.
June 2018. Trump initiates tariffs on steel and aluminum. The US-China Trade War begins.
The global markets were shaking. The KOSPI, heavily dependent on exports to both China and the US, was vulnerable. But Min-jun saw an opportunity in a different sector.
Defense.
"Ye-eun," Min-jun called out.
"Yeah?"
"Liquidity check on the fund."
"We have about 20 Billion won in dry powder. Why?"
"The world is getting less safe," Min-jun pointed to the news. "Trade wars turn into cold wars. Cold wars turn into arms races. I want to look at Hanwha Aerospace and LIG Nex1."
"Defense stocks? They are boring. Low growth."
"Not anymore. South Korea is about to become the arsenal of democracy for countries that can't afford American weapons. Poland. UAE. The orders are coming."
Min-jun opened a new chart. While the tech sector panicked over tariffs, the defense sector was forming a massive base. The "Era of Unicorns" wasn't just about apps. It was about hard power.
[TRANSACTION LOG]
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Date: May 2018
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Entity: Daegwang Construction (Portfolio Company).
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Action: Forensic Supply Chain Audit.
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Result: Recovery of ~15 Billion KRW (Embezzled funds).
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Cost: 50 Million Won (Hermes operational costs).
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Impact: Operating Margin improved by 4%.
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Personal Strategy:
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Macro View: Bearish on Global Trade (Trade War).
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Sector Rotation: Accumulating Defense Industry (Hanwha Aerospace).