CH31 | MCT

Cheongil Group (4)

Tae-soo returned the envelope of money with a grin.

"Instead, I’d like to exchange it for your business card."

"My business card? Hahaha."

The secretary burst into laughter.

He could guess why Tae-soo was doing this.

"Hahaha, well, this is quite something. You’re truly remarkable. Very well."

The secretary readily handed his business card to Tae-soo.

<Kim Hwan, Chief Secretary of Geumsan Group.>

"If you ever run into any difficulties, feel free to contact me. I can handle minor matters with ease."

"Sounds good."

Tae-soo accepted it without hesitation.

Watching him, the secretary felt an itch in his hands.

He wanted him.

There was a strong feeling that this man before him was destined for greatness.

'You can tell a lot from just one thing. I must recommend him to Chairman Jang.'

Secretary Kim carefully examined Tae-soo.

The more he looked, the more impressed he became.

His appearance, demeanor, confidence, and even his manners—everything stood out.

'They say he’s a dragon born in a humble stream, but the aura he carries is more like that of an heir meticulously groomed by a wealthy family for years.'

No, it was even beyond that.

'Rather than an heir, he exudes a sense of refinement and maturity… Almost as if he were a conglomerate chairman himself.'

Shaking his head, Secretary Kim cut off his train of thought.

'What a ridiculous notion. That’s impossible. A chairman? Now that’s going too far.'

But when he looked at Tae-soo again, he couldn’t shake the impression.

He was an unmistakable talent.

Despite his youth, he radiated competence.

Glancing at the stack of documents on the desk, Secretary Kim nodded.

'Unbelievable. He processed all these documents? And he doesn’t even seem to struggle, as if he’s been in this field for years. Was he just born with it?'

The more he observed, the more he wanted him.

So he asked—

"Are you married?"

“No, I’m not.”

“Oh-ho, I see.”

Secretary Kim’s eyes gleamed.

Countless thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant, appearing and disappearing just as quickly.

‘This isn’t the place to linger.’

With that decision, Secretary Kim gave a polite bow.

“I’ll see you again next time.”

“Please convey my gratitude to the chairman.”

Tae-soo grinned and casually waved the golden business card.

Secretary Kim burst into laughter.

“Hahaha, I have a feeling you’ll be waving my business card more often than that gilded one. The small tasks are always more troublesome than the big ones.”

“Hahaha.”

This time, Tae-soo waved Secretary Kim’s business card instead.

A satisfied smile spread across the secretary’s face.

Tae-soo walked over and opened the office door for him.

“It’s a long way back to Seoul. Safe travels.”

“Hm?”

Standing just outside the office was a middle-aged man in his late forties or early fifties.

His attire and posture showed meticulous attention to detail—he was a refined gentleman.

“Ah, greetings. I see you had another guest before me.”

Tae-soo recognized him immediately.

‘Chairman of Cheongil Group… Han Cheong-ho.’

Tae-soo’s gaze darkened.

He hadn’t expected the chairman of Cheongil Group to travel all the way to Gangwon Province.

It had been twenty-five years since he last saw him.

Han Cheong-ho glanced at Secretary Kim with a curious expression.

“Well, well, look who it is! Isn’t this Secretary Kim of Geumsan Group? I heard you’ve been living on the road, constantly traveling between Ulsan and Seoul to oversee the shipyard construction. What brings you all the way to Gangwon?”

Secretary Kim gave a polite bow.

“I imagine for a reason not so different from yours, Chairman Han.”

With that, he excused himself.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

Secretary Kim headed toward his car.

Han Cheong-ho watched him go, a peculiar smile on his lips.

“So, Geumsan sent Secretary Kim. That means Jang Jun-yong was behind this.”

Then, he turned to face Tae-soo.

“Hm!”

Suddenly, Han Cheong-ho’s eyes widened as if they were about to tear apart.

His hands trembled slightly.

Tae-soo found it odd.

‘Why is he reacting like this? We’re meeting for the first time—what could possibly be so shocking? He’s overreacting.’

Tae-soo politely pushed the office door open a little wider and gestured for him to enter.

“Please, come in.”

Han Cheong-ho seemed to snap back to his senses, though he uncharacteristically stammered.

“Ah, y-yes. Ahem.”

He took a seat in the chair Tae-soo had indicated.

For a long moment, Han Cheong-ho studied Tae-soo intently.

His lips were tightly sealed, and his expression shifted rapidly.

Tae-soo tilted his head slightly.

‘He’s known for keeping his emotions in check, yet he’s this agitated? This is really strange.’

Han Cheong-ho was lost in thought.

Tick, tock.

The pendulum of the grandfather clock on the wall swung restlessly from side to side.

Glancing at the clock, Tae-soo stood up.

“If you have nothing to say, I’ll take my leave. I’ve been quite busy lately.”

Just then, Han Cheong-ho suddenly broke into a satisfied smile.

“Sit down. I was just thinking for a moment.”

Tae-soo studied him carefully.

‘Why is he suddenly in a good mood? What’s he scheming?’

Han Cheong-ho gestured toward Tae-soo’s chair, urging him to sit back down.

‘I’m curious about what he’s up to. Since he came all this way, I might as well hear him out.’

Tae-soo had been meaning to meet Han Cheong-ho at least once anyway.

Thud.

Tae-soo sat back down.

Han Cheong-ho casually glanced around the office.

“I hear you’ve been making a fortune off molybdenum lately, but your office is more modest than I expected. I should’ve brought you a nice potted plant or something.”

“Let’s keep this brief. I’ll give you five minutes.”

It was a clear sign that he was unwelcome.

But Han Cheong-ho wasn’t the type to get flustered over something so trivial.

And Tae-soo wasn’t one to let his emotions show easily either—no matter how much his heart burned with the fire of revenge.

Crackle.

An unseen spark flickered between them.

Then, Han Cheong-ho suddenly burst into laughter.

“Hahaha, I’m just as busy as you are. But I rushed all the way from Seoul to Gangwon-do, only to get a five-minute meeting? Now, that’s a bit harsh.”

“Well, I can’t help being busy. You should’ve called ahead.”

“Fair enough. That was my mistake, so I’ll accept it. Alright, let’s begin our five-minute meeting.”

Han Cheong-ho remained composed.

“A guest has arrived, yet no tea? After such a long journey, my throat is dry. Bring me something hot.”

“We only have corn tea.”

“Corn tea is perfect. Brings back memories. I used to drink it often when I worked at a rice trading company.”

Tae-soo picked up the kettle boiling on the wood stove and poured the tea into a cup.

He handed it to Han Cheong-ho.

‘I just warned him I’d kick him out in five minutes, yet he’s unfazed. He even looks completely at ease.’

Tae-soo took a sip of the corn tea, wetting his parched lips.

The tension had dried his mouth.

He had never felt nervous facing anyone before.

But Han Cheong-ho was the one exception.

When Tae-soo was younger, Han Cheong-ho had always seemed intimidating, formidable, and extraordinary.

‘Han Cheong-ho… In my memories, he was greater than any other giant in the field.’

To Tae-soo, Han Cheong-ho was the most powerful figure in South Korea.

That belief was the result of nearly twenty years spent under Han Cheong-ho’s tutelage—trained relentlessly, educated ruthlessly.

In his younger days, Tae-soo had seen Han Cheong-ho as a man who could manipulate the political world at will, as if it were resting in the palm of his hand.

A self-made tycoon who built Cheongil Group from nothing, an iconic figure of success.

Han Cheong-ho took a sip of his tea before speaking.

“You seem to know who I am.”

“You’re a famous man. Is there anyone in Korea who doesn’t recognize the chairman of Cheongil Group?”

“Since you already know my position, this conversation will go quickly.”

With a sharp clack, Han Cheong-ho set his teacup down on the table.

“Supply molybdenum to Cheongil Group.”

“No.”

Tae-soo rejected the offer without a moment’s hesitation.

Han Cheong-ho’s eyebrow twitched.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Fine. It’s certainly up to the seller.”

“If you understand that, then there’s no need for further discussion. I’m busy, so I’ll be going now.”

“Sit down.”

Han Cheong-ho’s voice was firm.

“I’m not finished yet.”

“I’m not selling.”

“A person’s mind,” Han Cheong-ho mused, “is like a reed—swaying with the wind, changing as easily as flipping a coin.”

“Well, I have no intention of changing mine.”

I didn’t decide to take revenge on Cheongil Group with a half-hearted resolve that could waver over a mere business deal.

Han Cheong-ho let out a hearty laugh.

“Haha! Originally, I came all this way to secure a molybdenum supply contract. But now, I’ve had a change of heart. And it’s because of you.”

He sounded completely confident.

“Even someone like me changes his mind depending on the situation. Do you really think you’ll be any different? Tell me, do you truly believe you can be satisfied with just one molybdenum mine?”

“If you were in my position, would you be?”

“Of course not. That’s why I’m about to make you a very good offer.”

A good offer.

Han Cheong-ho had made Tae-soo a so-called “good offer” in his past life as well.

He had paid off Tae-soo’s late father’s debts.

He had given Tae-soo’s mother a separate house and employed her as a housekeeper.

He had sent Tae-soo’s younger brother, Han-soo, to the National Intelligence Service.

And he had placed Tae-soo in the Cheongil Group’s secretary office.

‘I sold myself dirt cheap, didn’t I? Like a mutt serving the Han family.’

Tae-soo smirked.

‘This time, I have no intention of selling myself as anyone’s dog.’

No, his plan was quite the opposite—he would strip that family down to its very foundation, leaving nothing but dust.

‘Let’s see just how much Han Cheong-ho is willing to put on the table.’

Only five minutes.

“Let’s hear this ‘good offer’ of yours.”

“I’ll buy your molybdenum mine.”

Han Cheong-ho spoke as if he were doing Tae-soo a favor.

“They say it was just a ten-thousand-won mine, right? Let’s say you got lucky, and molybdenum was discovered in this abandoned pit. And just as fortune would have it, the U.S. halted extraction, sending prices through the roof, making you a fortune.”

That wasn’t just a hypothetical. It was reality.

“No matter how much you hype it up, it’s still an old mine left behind by the Japanese. The deposits must be limited. At best…”

“This is getting boring.”

Tae-soo looked unimpressed.

“So? What’s your offer?”

“Even considering today’s soaring molybdenum prices, this mine is worth 9,000. Even if you push it to the absolute limit, maybe 9,800. You won’t get a better deal than that. I can guarantee it.”

“Guarantee?”

“….”

Han Cheong-ho fell silent for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected counter.

Of course. He had deliberately lowballed the offer.
I’m already making a pure profit of a hundred million won a month from this mine.
Sure, it’s an unusual windfall thanks to the peak market prices, but still…

Han Cheong-ho nodded shamelessly.

“If you don’t believe me, go ahead and put it up for sale. You’ll soon see for yourself—9,000 will be the best you can get. I guarantee it.”

He sounded completely self-assured.

But Tae-soo wasn’t naive. He saw through the game.

Tae-soo chuckled.

“If you decide to block any potential buyers, who would even dare lay a hand on this mine?”

“Glad we understand each other.”

“So, you want to buy this mine for 9,800?”

“I’ll be generous. I’ll give you 3 billion.”

Han Cheong-ho raised three fingers.

In 1972, 3 billion won was equivalent to nearly 10 billion in 2020.

“I’m offering you an extremely generous price. A ten-thousand-won mine just became a 3-billion-won fortune.
What do you say?”

Han Cheong-ho’s gaze reeked of arrogance, as if he were thinking,
‘Let’s see if you can really turn this down.’

“I’m not selling. Drop the cheap calculations.”

Tae-soo scoffed.

‘The estimated molybdenum reserves in this Sangdong Mine are worth 1.9 trillion won as of 2019. And this bastard wants to snatch it up like he’s doing me a favor?’

Han Cheong-ho burst into laughter.

“Looks like you're new to business. You must be struggling with the math.”

“It’s you who needs to learn how to count properly.”

“You think I’m lying? I have the power to turn my words into reality.”

“Truth or lie, it doesn’t matter. If I don’t sell, that’s the end of it, isn’t it?”

“Being stubborn like that can lead to trouble. Molybdenum is a strategic national resource. It’s not something a private individual can toy with.”

A blatant threat.

And Han Cheong-ho had the power to back it up.

That was why he had poured so much money into the political sphere—to gain that power.

“Think it over. Use that sharp brain of yours.”

Han Cheong-ho remained confident.

Tae-soo let out a loud laugh.

“Hahaha! Not selling.”

A crack formed in Han Cheong-ho’s smug expression.

Tae-soo’s laughter faded.

“To me, it sounds like you’re saying you’ll throw me into the Central Intelligence Agency and seize the mine.”

“If you already know that, then just sign the damn contract. Three billion is more than enough for you to live without ever begging anyone for a favor.”

“I said, I’m not selling.”

Han Cheong-ho had no idea.

He didn’t know why Tae-soo could stand his ground so firmly.

‘Because just recently, President Park Jeong-hwan granted me a ten-year exclusive mining permit.
Let’s see how exactly you plan on taking that away when it’s been signed off by the president himself.’

Tae-soo leisurely sipped his corn tea.

‘I know better than anyone how Oh Chun-sik lost his molybdenum mine.’

Oh Chun-sik had made a fortune from his molybdenum mine—until President Park Jeong-hwan set his sights on it.

It was the Cheongil Group that stirred things up, maneuvering behind the scenes.

And leading that charge, driven by vengeance—was Tae-soo himself.

Oh Chun-sik—the man who had framed Tae-soo’s family with debt and dragged them into the gutter.

The enemy.

And Tae-soo had taken his revenge with his own hands.

‘I knew this would happen. That’s why I went straight to Park Tae-jong and settled things in advance.’

Han Cheong-ho issued a warning.

“You won’t understand how terrifying the Central Intelligence Agency is until you experience it firsthand.”

“You still can’t tell whether I’m serious or not?”

“…You’re serious. You really intend to hold onto this mine.”

Tae-soo grinned.

“Isn’t it the seller’s choice?”

“No. It’s the choice of the one with power—the one who can take it.”

“Well, that power of yours… I have a feeling it’s about to change.”

Han Cheong-ho’s lips twitched.

“You must have something up your sleeve.”

Crackle.

Another invisible spark flared between them.

Instead of answering, Tae-soo simply took another slow sip of his corn tea.

Han Cheong-ho closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them again, they gleamed with sharp, venomous intent.

“Fine. I’ll drop the mine acquisition.”

“Then have a safe trip back.”

“I’m not done talking yet. There’s still time left… so let’s move on to my second proposal.”