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CH513 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-09-28 13:00:07 +0000 UTC[Government Demands Harsh Self-Rescue Measures from Daekwang Group, Including Chairman’s Personal Assets]
[Daekwang Group Pledges ₩1 Trillion in Owner’s Assets and ₩10 Trillion in Collateral for Normalization]
[Chairman Yoo Chun-seok Declares He Will Step Down If Restructuring Fails!]
[Creditors Consider ₩4 Trillion in New Loans and ₩10 Trillion in Rollover Extensions for Daekwang Group]
Everyone had suspected something was brewing, but when the news of Daekwang Group’s restructuring finally exploded, it sent shockwaves through the business world and the stock market alike.
The shock was so massive that the once-dominant headline—the Gold Bank collapse—was buried in an instant.
Daekwang was the second-largest conglomerate after Hyunwoo, surpassing Saseong, and had long been seen as the very embodiment of “too big to fail.” The blow it dealt to the economy and the public was beyond measure.
Yet amid the fallout from Daekwang Group’s restructuring, Seok-won found himself facing an unexpected opportunity.
“So you’re saying Daekwang has reached out to see if we’re interested in purchasing their headquarters building near Seoul Station?”
Sitting in the seat of honor with one leg casually crossed, Seok-won posed the question. Bluehole Construction’s president, Jung Kyu-chul, replied in a flustered tone.
“Yes. They’ve proposed selling the Daekwang Center Building for 220 billion won, on the condition that they can continue leasing it and buy it back after five years.”
“Judging by the repurchase clause, they’re clearly short on liquidity. They’re selling the building now but don’t intend to give it up completely.”
“Exactly. It’s not just any property—it’s a landmark standing right at the gateway of Seoul, across from Seoul Station, and above all, it’s their headquarters. That symbolism alone is enormous. So, in their eyes, this isn’t a sale but more like temporarily putting it up as collateral.”
It was understandable. For an ordinary household, selling one’s home was the absolute last resort after exhausting every other option.
‘But considering what I know—how the massive accounting fraud will soon be exposed and Daekwang will collapse beyond recovery—they’ll never get that building back.’
The thought of his past-life memories flickered in Seok-won’s mind, but he quickly brushed it aside as President Jung continued.
“They’re also willing to sell the Daekwang Securities Building in Yeouido for 32 billion won.”
“Does that one also come with a five-year repurchase condition?”
At Seok-won’s question, President Jung Kyu-chul shook his head.
“The Daekwang Securities Building is a full sale, no repurchase clause.”
“So it’s not as important as their headquarters near Seoul Station, and they’re just letting it go.”
“It’s in the heart of Yeouido’s financial district, with three basement levels and eighteen stories above ground, totaling 39,087 square meters. It’s a sizable building, and since it was completed in 1984, it’s not that old. As real estate, its value is significant.”
“True, being right on the main road makes it a very attractive investment as an office building.”
Having spent half his life in Yeouido’s securities district before his regression, no one knew the Daekwang Securities Building better than Seok-won.
Then, a memory surfaced—of his mentor and older-brother figure, Manager Oh.
~~~
“They say everything comes full circle in life… and I think that’s exactly right.”
Manager Oh, as usual, sat sprawled in his fishing chair as though it were his personal throne, wearing his trademark three-striped slippers and smoking a cigarette. Hearing his words, Seok-won set down his freshly polished shoes and asked,
“What do you mean?”
“That Daekwang Securities Building across the street. Didn’t you hear? They bought it back yesterday.”
“I heard there were five different bidders fighting over it. So Daekwang Securities won in the end?”
“Yeah. For them, it was about reclaiming their old home. Back during the IMF crisis, they had no choice but to sell it off at a rock-bottom price, and now they’ve finally gotten it back.”
“Well, isn’t that a good thing?”
Manager Oh tapped his cigarette ash into an empty paper coffee cup before answering.
“Do you know how much Daekwang Securities agreed to pay the Deutsche Bank-affiliated real estate firm to get their building back?”
“How much?”
Curiosity lit up Seok-won’s face. Manager Oh tilted his chin upward and replied,
“A staggering 180.784 billion won.”
“Wow, that’s enormous. But considering how insane Seoul real estate prices are these days, it’s not cheap, but maybe not terrible either?”
Manager Oh wagged his cigarette between his fingers.
“You’re right, real estate prices are insane. But do you know how much Daekwang sold that same building for when the group went bankrupt?”
“I’m not sure.”
“They let it go for 47.8 billion won—to Goldman Sachs. That must’ve been back in 2001.”
Seok-won tilted his head, then let out a gasp.
“Seven years ago, and now it’s going for more than three times that amount? Not even double—over triple!”
“You want to know what’s even funnier?”
Manager Oh drew in a deep drag of his cigarette, then exhaled a long stream of white smoke while meeting Seok-won’s curious gaze.
“Less than three years after Goldman Sachs bought the building, they flipped it to Macquarie for 72 billion won. Then three years later, Macquarie sold it again—to a Deutsche Bank–affiliated real estate firm—for 112 billion.”
A bitter shadow crossed Manager Oh’s face as he continued.
“The foreign investment firms just kept trading it back and forth among themselves, inflating the price higher each time. And in the end, they sold it right back to Daekwang Securities, the original owner, with a fat margin tacked on.”
“Now that I hear it laid out like that, it makes my stomach turn.”
Seok-won wore the same pained look.
“The Daekwang Securities Building isn’t the only piece of Seoul real estate that got dumped for peanuts during the financial crisis, only to be resold later at a premium. There are countless others.”
“True enough.”
“After going through something that harsh, people had better wise up. We can’t let ourselves get fleeced like that again.”
With that, Manager Oh slipped his cigarette back between his lips.
~~~
Seok-won reflected for a moment on that conversation, silently reaffirming his resolve.
As long as I’m here, there’s no way things will repeat like before. Back then, foreign investors scooped up desperate fire-sale properties from cash-strapped companies, only to rake in enormous profits a few years later. I won’t let that happen this time.
Having solidified his determination, Seok-won turned his gaze back to President Jung Kyu-chul.
“So, President Jung, you’re suggesting we accept Daekwang Group’s offer?”
Jung leaned forward urgently and answered at once.
“Yes. Both properties are premium real estate. Buying them now is guaranteed profit. If the group weren’t in crisis and forced into restructuring, they’d never dream of selling them.”
Even without Jung’s explanation, no one knew better than Seok-won that these were prime assets.
If I remember right, Morgan Stanley acquired Daekwang Group’s headquarters building in 2007 for 960 billion won.
Even if they resold it later, that was more than quadruple the money back.
And that’s not even counting the rental income we’d collect in the meantime. It’s literally killing two birds with one stone.
It was easier than money falling into his lap—no reason not to take it.
Seok-won lifted his teacup, took a slow sip of coffee, then set it down and asked,
“Are those the only properties Daekwang Group is rushing to offload?”
“No. There’s one more. But it’s not a building.”
“Oh? Then what is it?”
At Seok-won’s question, Jung Kyu-chul named a place that sounded unfamiliar.
“The Suyeong Bay reclamation site in Busan.”
“There’s such a place?”
Seeing Seok-won tilt his head, Jung Kyu-chul went on to explain the Suyeong Bay reclamation site in detail.
“In 1988, when it was decided that the Olympic yachting events would be held in Busan, the sandy beach stretching from Haeundae’s Dongbaek Island to the Suyeong River estuary was filled in. That reclamation became the Suyeong Bay site.”
Noticing Seok-won’s growing interest, Jung continued.
“At the time, Daekwang Group oversaw construction of the yacht stadium, and as part of the payment, they received parcels of the reclaimed land instead of cash.”
“If it’s beachfront land right next to Haeundae, one of the country’s most famous tourist destinations, the value must be enormous.”
“Exactly. After the reclamation, surrounding land prices shot up, sparking suspicions of political favoritism that caused quite a stir.”
“A site like that, right in the middle of the city and with ocean frontage—it must be worth a fortune.”
“I’ve heard the official appraisal for Daekwang Group’s 59,000 pyeong of land there is around 230 billion won.”
“That’s a hefty chunk.”
While Seok-won showed clear interest, Jung only shrugged.
“True, but the City of Busan placed restrictions for the 2002 Asian Games: the site couldn’t be developed into regular apartment blocks, only into a mixed-use complex with skyscrapers. That kills profitability.”
“In other words, it doesn’t make money.”
“Right. With office towers, condominiums, hotels, even a museum, it’s nearly impossible to hit a viable profit margin. That’s why Daekwang has left it untouched for years, unable to break ground. No buyers either—it’s basically a white elephant.”
“I see…”
As Jung spoke, something clicked in Seok-won’s memory.
Before his regression, he had once visited Busan and seen, near Haeundae, a stretch of striking high-rises with unique designs, standing like Singapore or Hong Kong towers along the water’s edge. Looking back, he realized—that was the Suyeong Bay reclamation site.
It was a breathtaking, cosmopolitan skyline that became a fixture in videos showcasing Busan.
And the mixed-use apartments there had gone for tens of billions of won per unit, rivaling Seoul prices.
If that was the case, then contrary to the current dismissive outlook, the site held enormous profit potential.
Running the numbers in his head, Seok-won looked back at Jung.
“If there are no buyers, that means we could negotiate the price down significantly.”
“Exactly. With Daekwang under pressure to meet the 400 billion won asset-sale requirement tied to its new loans and debt extensions, they must sell Suyeong Bay. With some luck, we could even get it below the official appraisal value.”
Having said this, Jung cautiously glanced at Seok-won and asked,
“Are you interested in the Suyeong Bay reclamation site?”
“It’s prime land right in the heart of Busan. If we can get it at a low price, the profitability would be substantial.”
“Well… if the domestic economy picks up and Busan real estate prices rise further, it could work. But at the moment, I’m honestly skeptical.”
Even with a prime location, the numerous restrictions were a serious obstacle.
But knowing the future, Seok-won smiled confidently, radiating assurance.
“I think it’s more than worth pursuing. Let’s acquire all three properties—the two buildings we discussed earlier and the Suyeong Bay reclamation site. And of course, make sure we secure them at the lowest possible price.”
“If you’re taking three major assets together, even cash-strapped Daekwang Group will likely negotiate to some extent.”
“I trust you’ll handle it well.”
Though the combined deal totaled a massive 500 billion won, Jung Kyu-chul, having observed Seok-won’s previous dealings, had no concerns about the acquisition funds.
“That way, we’ll essentially cover all the cash Daekwang Group is trying to raise by selling off these properties,” Jung said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“Daekwang gets the liquidity to put out their fire, and we acquire prime real estate at a bargain. Sounds like a win-win to me.”
“Ha! Exactly right.”
At Seok-won’s words, Jung Kyu-chul let out a hearty laugh, sharing in the moment of agreement and mutual confidence.
