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CH390 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-05-27 12:30:02 +0000 UTCIt was late, already past 10 p.m.
A black Equus sedan came to a stop in front of the entrance of the Lotte Hotel in Sogong-dong.
The aide sitting in the front seat got out first, scanned the surroundings, and opened the rear passenger door.
A middle-aged man stepped out, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and with neatly combed hair — it was Choi Jin-woo, the Deputy Prime Minister for Economic Affairs.
Lately, his face had noticeably thinned from severe stress, and streaks of gray had appeared in his hair, something not seen before.
Deputy Prime Minister Choi Jin-woo exited the car and walked with his aide past the doorman standing by the glass doors, heading straight into the hotel lobby.
The high ceiling adorned with a grand chandelier and the natural marble flooring gave the lobby a luxurious feel. At this late hour, there were hardly any guests in sight.
Accompanied by the soft sound of jazz piano flowing from the bar, Deputy Prime Minister Choi made his way inward and stepped into an elevator that had just arrived.
Upon reaching the 35th floor and stepping out, he found himself in a hallway lined with red carpet.
He stopped in front of Room 3505 on the left side of the hallway and pressed the doorbell.
He heard the sound of the lock disengaging from inside. Soon after, the door opened and Han Ji-sung peeked out.
Recognizing Choi Jin-woo, Han Ji-sung quickly bowed and opened the door fully, stepping aside.
“He's waiting for you inside.”
“Mmm.”
Deputy Prime Minister Choi entered the room with his aide.
The suite was spacious, with a separate living area and bedroom. As expected of a luxury hotel, the furnishings and decor were first-rate.
Seok-won, already seated on the sofa, stood up when he saw Choi Jin-woo and greeted him with the utmost courtesy.
“Thank you for making time despite your busy schedule.”
“I wish we could’ve had dinner together, but my schedule didn’t allow for it. My apologies.”
“Not at all.”
When Deputy Prime Minister Choi extended a hand, Seok-won firmly grasped it, shaking hands as he responded.
“Please, have a seat.”
Following Seok-won’s gesture, Deputy Prime Minister Choi sat down and glanced over the table.
On it were some light snacks and a bottle of 18-year-old Chivas Regal, evidently prepared in advance. Choi Jin-woo let out an appreciative hum.
“Fine whisky.”
“I knew it was your favorite, so I made sure to prepare it.”
“Your attention to detail, as always, is impressive. So like you.”
Seok-won used tongs to place ice cubes from a bucket into the rocks glass in front of Choi, then opened the whisky bottle.
“Let me pour you a drink.”
“Thank you.”
After pouring him a drink, Deputy Prime Minister Choi Jin-woo took the bottle of whisky and filled Seok-won’s glass in return.
They clinked their glasses lightly. Choi took a sip of the cold whisky and set his glass down, a faint smile spreading across his lips.
“A good drink really does help clear the mind.”
Seok-won glanced at his expression, then cautiously broached the subject.
“It seems negotiations with the IMF delegation aren’t going well.”
Deputy Prime Minister Choi hesitated for a moment before letting out a small sigh.
“There’s no point in hiding it—by now, most people, including you, have likely figured that out.”
He looked down at the glass in his hand as he continued.
“Progress is slower than we anticipated.”
Seok-won responded in a calm, measured tone.
“South Korea wants the IMF to provide temporary liquidity support to resolve a short-term cash crunch caused by excessive short-term foreign debt. But the IMF is looking to enforce broader economic liberalization and structural reforms. Bridging that gap won’t be easy.”
His grasp of the situation was so precise, it was as if he had been privy to the negotiation process himself. Choi was genuinely taken aback.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if someone inside the Ministry of Finance had leaked information.
But he quickly dismissed the thought, recalling how Seok-won had warned about a potential currency crisis even before the IMF debacle began—and remembering the keen insight and foresight he’d displayed during his time at Daeheung Securities.
Choi realized that someone like Seok-won could probably assess the situation accurately just by reading the atmosphere.
Wearing a faintly bitter expression, Choi spoke, as if the thought had just occurred to him.
“When you first warned that we might face a currency crisis, if I’d taken more decisive action, things might have turned out better than this. It’s something I regret.”
If he agreed out loud, it would be tantamount to acknowledging that Choi and the senior officials at the Ministry had been complacent. So Seok-won said nothing.
When Choi finished his whisky and set the glass down, Seok-won silently refilled it and spoke in a quiet voice.
“Dwelling on what’s already happened only leaves regrets. It doesn’t help us now. What matters is how we move forward with the IMF negotiations.”
“You’re right,” Choi replied, looking at him with a spark of hope in his eyes.
“Is it true that you can help with the negotiations?”
“It is,” Seok-won nodded.
“What is it?”
Deputy Prime Minister Choi Jin-woo, feeling cornered from all sides, couldn’t help but think that even someone as capable as Seok-won might not be able to come up with a way to resolve such a convoluted and one-sided negotiation.
Still, the reason he had taken precious time out of his packed schedule to meet with him was due to a sliver of hope—however faint it might be.
The South Korean government’s situation was so dire that even a desperate grasp at a straw-thin hope felt necessary.
Meeting Choi’s desperate gaze head-on, Seok-won began to speak calmly.
“To avoid a technical default despite a trade surplus caused by excessive short-term foreign debt—and to fend off speculative attacks exploiting the nation's instability—seeking IMF support might indeed be necessary.”
“Exactly.”
“But if we hastily accept all their excessive demands just to put out the immediate fire, we might trigger serious long-term side effects that could end up eroding our national competitiveness.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Choi said, sighing deeply at how precisely Seok-won had read his concerns.
“The market liberalization and financial reforms that the IMF wants are certainly things we’ll need to do eventually if we hope to join the ranks of advanced economies. But if we push everything through all at once instead of implementing it gradually to minimize fallout, the consequences will be massive disruption and backlash.”
“I agree completely,” Choi said.
Feeling stifled, he placed a cigarette between his lips, lit it, and exhaled a stream of smoke, his expression heavy with frustration.
“The problem is... even knowing all that, we still have no choice but to accept the IMF’s demands.”
As Choi took another drag with a bitter look, Seok-won spoke in a serious tone.
“The reason we’ve lost all leverage in the negotiations and are being dragged along is simply because we don’t have enough foreign reserves.”
“That’s our Achilles’ heel,” Choi said. “While we’re anxious every day about running dry, they can afford to sit back and wait. It’s a fundamentally lopsided game.”
“But what if Korea suddenly had enough foreign reserves to hold out longer—wouldn’t that shift the pressure onto the IMF instead?”
“!”
“You’re aware, I’m sure, that although Japan temporarily stabilized the situation by injecting public funds, Yamaichi Securities has filed for bankruptcy, exposing the risk of a chain reaction of collapses among Japanese financial institutions. Coupled with the economic downturn, the yen is sharply depreciating.”
Choi was now sitting upright, fully engaged. Seeing this, Seok-won continued without pause.
“Neither the IMF nor the United States would want the economic crisis to leap from Korea to Japan. That kind of contagion would be disastrous. So they’ll want to resolve this quickly—even if it means making concessions.”
“That could be,” Choi nodded slightly, though still skeptical. “But to make that happen, we’d need a considerable amount of foreign capital. We don’t have any way to secure that, do we?”
Looking directly at him, Seok-won replied coolly.
“Wouldn’t about ten billion dollars be enough to shift the IMF delegation’s stubborn stance?”
“!”
Deputy Prime Minister Choi jolted in shock, his voice stammering in disbelief.
“D-Did you just say ten billion dollars?”
“That’s right. The maximum bailout package the IMF can provide is around twenty billion dollars. If we already have half that amount secured, they won’t be able to keep stonewalling us or pushing excessive demands.”
Of course, Seok-won clearly remembered that, before his return to the past, the total aid South Korea had secured to fully overcome the foreign exchange crisis—including contributions from the IMF, World Bank, Asian Development Bank, as well as the U.S. and Japan—amounted to a staggering fifty-five billion dollars.
But there was no need to bring that up here.
“And where exactly are you planning to get that much money?” Deputy Prime Minister Choi Jin-woo asked, his face now tinged with cautious hope.
Seok-won gave a faint smile.
“I can provide it.”
“Y-You can?”
“Yes. If you’d like, I can have ten billion dollars transferred directly into the Bank of Korea’s account as early as tomorrow.”
“Wait, how could you possibly…”
Choi Jin-woo looked utterly stunned, as if the very idea was beyond comprehension.
Naturally, the notion that a private individual could possess such a massive sum was inconceivable.
“If I explained how, it’d be a very long story. Perhaps another time. What matters right now is that I have the dollars you need. Isn’t that what’s important?”
“Yes… of course.”
Quickly regaining his composure, Choi nodded.
The thought that he might have finally found a breakthrough in negotiations that had been dragging on helplessly sent a surge of excitement coursing through him.
Struggling to steady his pounding heart, Deputy Prime Minister Choi looked across the table at Seok-won.
“You wouldn’t offer that kind of money without expecting something in return. What do you want?”
This was the pivotal moment. Seok-won straightened his posture and met Choi’s gaze.
“Give me Ilhan and Hansung Bank.”
“!”
Caught completely off guard by the unexpected demand, Deputy Prime Minister Choi Jin-woo widened his eyes in clear astonishment.
“Both Ilhan and Hansung Bank are on the brink of collapse due to the massive surge in non-performing loans. From what I understand, the IMF has already listed them—alongside failing merchant banks—as top priorities for restructuring.”
“Hmm.”
Even before his return, both banks had been bailed out with several trillion won in public funds, only to end up merged with other banks or sold off to foreign investors.
“If we’re going to intervene anyway, it would be far better to act preemptively and restructure them through a method that minimizes shock, rather than being forced into it under duress. That could also give us a stronger position at the negotiating table with the IMF.”
“Ten billion dollars, and now Ilhan and Hansung Bank… You really do have a knack for throwing out the most unexpected proposals.”
Deputy Prime Minister Choi, cigarette held loosely between his fingers, lowered his gaze, lost in thought.
“You're not planning to acquire them with all their toxic assets still on the books. You’ll want to have the bad loans written off or spun off before the handover.”
“That’s correct.”
Choi nodded, as if he had expected as much.
Under normal circumstances, the idea would’ve been dismissed out of hand. But with the Korean government and Ministry of Finance and Economy cornered and desperate, the offer was too tempting to reject outright.
Especially since, as Seok-won pointed out, the internal consensus was already that both banks were too far gone to survive on their own.
“Hmm…”
After a long silence, Choi finally stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and spoke in a grave tone.
“There are a number of complications, and this isn’t a decision I can make on my own. I’ll need to discuss it further before I can give you an answer.”
Seok-won had never expected an immediate reply, so he accepted this without protest.
“Understood. I look forward to hearing good news.”
