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CH512 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-09-27 14:46:17 +0000 UTC[Gold Bank Postpones 0% Commission Cyber Securities Firm Indefinitely]
[Gold Bank’s Aggressive Internet Expansion Hits a Sudden Brake]
[Experts: Gold Bank’s Growth Limitations Exposed]
[Gold Bank, Once Leading the KOSDAQ Frenzy—Was the Myth an Illusion?]
The announcement that Gold Bank’s ambitious plan to launch a cyber securities firm with zero commission fees had been postponed indefinitely caused an immediate shift in the media’s tone. Outlets that only yesterday had been painting rosy forecasts suddenly flooded the news with pessimistic reports.
When the stock market opened under such a climate, anxious individual investors rushed to dump their Gold Bank shares. The stock price, which had been climbing steeply, turned downward and began to plummet.
As fear spread rapidly through the market, even those investors who had initially decided to wait and see panicked and placed sell orders. Gold Bank’s stock kept crashing until it finally hit the lower limit.
[Gold Bank: 23,500 (▼3,950)]
Seok-won, dressed in a white shirt with a silver tie pin for a touch of style, sat at his desk, staring at the Gold Bank stock price window on his monitor with a sombre expression.
“So, it’s come to this after all.”
He had anticipated this outcome, but seeing Gold Bank’s collapse unfold left a bitter taste.
He took some comfort in the fact that, during his last interview, he had at least tried to warn investors. Still, it was inevitable that many small retail investors would suffer heavy losses from this plunge, and that pained him.
“But if there are people making money, then naturally, there have to be others losing it. That’s the cold law of investing.”
A utopia where everyone makes big profits together existed only in dreams.
He felt sympathy for the individual investors now bearing the brunt of the crash, but investment was ultimately each person’s responsibility. There was nothing more he could do for them.
“Still, the real dot-com bubble is only just beginning. If they’re lucky, some might recover and rise again.”
Turning his head, Seok-won shifted his gaze to the approval folder spread open on his desk.
[Seum Technology: Plan to Apply for Preliminary KOSDAQ Listing Review]
The true eye of the storm—the one that would stir up an even larger and hotter venture investment craze than Gold Bank—was finally preparing to enter the KOSDAQ market.
After carefully reviewing the application plan, Seok-won picked up his Montblanc fountain pen and elegantly signed in the approval section.
“This time, I wonder what kind of returns we’ll see.”
Closing the approval folder with a firm snap, Seok-won murmured to himself.
***
When you stepped out of Seoul Station, a towering 23-story building stood directly across the street, rising like a massive wall.
This was the headquarters of Daegwang Group, one of the nation’s leading conglomerates.
True to Chairman Yoo Chun-seok’s motto, “The world is vast, and there is much to do,” the place was usually bustling, with employees of Daegwang Group moving briskly about their business.
But now, reflecting the company’s worsening situation, the atmosphere was heavy and subdued.
Chairman Yoo Chun-seok, with his square face and medium height, sat at the center, surrounded by the group’s top executives, all wearing grim expressions as they gathered on the sofas in his office.
The crystal ashtray on the table was already piled high with cigarette butts, yet Chairman Yoo, his face tense with impatience, continued chain-smoking relentlessly.
“What time is it now?”
At his question, Finance Director Ahn Sung-jin, seated on the sofa to the left, quickly rolled up his sleeve to check his wristwatch before answering.
“Ten minutes to three, sir.”
Chairman Yoo squinted, still holding a cigarette between his lips.
“They should’ve been here long ago. Why is there still no word?”
“It seems the discussion is taking longer than expected. Let’s give it a little more time.”
When Ahn Sung-jin tried to reassure him, Chairman Yoo clicked his tongue with clear displeasure.
“Tsks.”
He drew deeply on his cigarette, leaned back in the sofa at an angle, and asked,
“How much in loans do we have to repay by the end of this week?”
All eyes turned to Finance Director Ahn, who hesitated before answering cautiously.
“Two trillion, four hundred billion won, sir.”
“So, with roughly three hundred billion in cash on hand, that leaves us short by two trillion, one hundred billion.”
But Ahn shook his head with a troubled look.
“It’s not three hundred billion. We only have two hundred sixty billion left.”
“What are you talking about? Just three days ago, you told me there were three hundred billion in cash reserves!”
Frowning and pressing him, Chairman Yoo demanded an explanation.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, Ahn replied,
“Four hundred billion was used to repay the debt at our European branch.”
“And you’re only telling me this now?!”
Chairman Yoo Chun-seok scowled and erupted in anger.
Startled, Finance Director Ahn Sung-jin hurried to defend himself, his tone tinged with frustration.
“The loan repayment for the Romanian car plant fell short, so I told you yesterday that we urgently needed to provide funds. You even signed off on it!”
“What?”
Chairman Yoo paused, then finally recalled. He pressed his forehead with the hand that held his cigarette.
“Damn… I was so focused on the negotiations with the government, I completely forgot.”
Already strained for liquidity, the realization that even their last drops of precious cash had dwindled made Yoo’s insides burn.
Daegwang Group, which had aggressively grown through mergers and acquisitions, was now saddled with the heaviest debt load among the top five conglomerates—an astronomical 72 trillion won.
Of that, roughly 10 billion dollars, about 12 trillion won, was borrowed by its overseas subsidiaries from local financial institutions.
This was the byproduct of Yoo’s cry for “global management,” which drove the group to establish a staggering 396 overseas branches—not only in Vietnam, Indonesia, and Thailand, but also across Central Asia, Eastern Europe, and even Africa—spreading its tentacles everywhere.
But when the IMF financial crisis struck, Daegwang Group reacted in the exact opposite way from other large conglomerates. While rivals defended themselves by restructuring and slashing debts, Daegwang doubled down, expanding aggressively.
Far from trimming down, the group recklessly acquired Ssangbong Motors, which had already gone bankrupt, and even set its sights on Saseong Motors, which was itself targeted for restructuring.
They relied on the belief in daema bulsa—the theory that a corporation so vast it could shake the entire national economy could never be allowed to fail, that the government would be forced to step in and save it.
But before the massive tsunami of the foreign exchange crisis, even the second-largest conglomerate in the country, Daegwang, had no way to withstand the impact.
Especially since its foundation wasn’t solid bedrock, but rather a sandcastle built by the shore. When the waves crashed, it crumbled helplessly.
By the time Chairman Yoo ground his burned-out cigarette into the ashtray and placed a fresh one between his lips—
Bang!
The tightly shut door burst open, and a middle-aged man wearing horn-rimmed glasses stepped inside.
It was Executive Director Jung Jin-woo, Chairman Yoo’s most trusted aide.
Already waiting anxiously, Chairman Yoo snatched the cigarette from his mouth and demanded urgently,
“What happened?!”
Finance Director Ahn Sung-jin and the other executives all turned their hopeful eyes toward Executive Director Jung.
With every gaze fixed upon him, Jung didn’t answer right away. Instead, he froze, hesitating with a dark expression clouding his face.
“……”
From Jung Jin-woo’s expression alone, Chairman Yoo Chun-seok instinctively realized things had not gone as he’d hoped. His face hardened.
The other executives also sensed the mood, and a heavy silence hung in the room until Executive Director Jung finally spoke with difficulty.
“I tried everything I could to persuade them until the very end, but the Blue House flatly refused. They said the overseas loans must be resolved by the group itself, and that the burden cannot be shifted back to the domestic side.”
Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, Chairman Yoo slammed his palm against the sofa’s armrest and roared in anger.
“So they expect me to just throw away all the overseas factories and businesses I’ve built up with such difficulty?!”
With his head bowed like a criminal, Jung replied softly,
“The Blue House and the government’s stance is that if funds extended by domestic financial institutions—whether through maturity extensions or new credit—end up flowing out to cover overseas debts, then restructuring would become meaningless.”
“Fools! Can’t they see that if we can just overcome this crisis, those overseas subsidiaries—spread across the globe—will be the very assets that elevate Daegwang into a true global corporation, instead of leaving us to squabble on this tiny strip of Korean soil?!”
Chairman Yoo burst out, his fury boiling over.
“Chairman, please calm yourself. You must think of your blood pressure.”
Finance Director Ahn Sung-jin, his expression heavy, tried to soothe him, but Yoo’s face flushed even redder, and his voice rose louder.
“Calm myself?! The tower I’ve spent thirty-two years building, stone by stone, is about to crumble before my very eyes—and you want me to calm myself?!”
Overcome by rage, Yoo snatched up the teacup before him and downed the green tea in one gulp.
At that moment, Executive Director Jung, who had quietly sunk into the sofa, cautiously opened his mouth again.
“However… the Blue House did make another proposal.”
Yoo, loosening his tie knot with rough hands, shot him a piercing glare.
“A proposal?”
Jung swallowed hard, hesitant, before answering.
“They said… if you and the group pledge everything you own as collateral to the creditors, then they will provide four trillion won in new credit and extend the short-term loans for another six months.”
Hearing this, deep wrinkles furrowed even further across Yoo’s forehead.
“Everything I and the group own? What exactly are they demanding be put up as collateral?”
Jung hesitated, unable to respond immediately. At last, he squeezed his eyes shut and spoke.
“…They mean exactly that—all assets, including your shares, must be pledged as collateral. Only then will support be possible.”
The room erupted into commotion at Jung’s words.
“What? How can they—!”
“This is outrageous!”
“Unbelievable…”
The executives, shaken to the core, could not hide their shock, mouths agape.
After all, what had just been demanded of them was nothing short of stripping Chairman Yoo Chun-seok and Daekwang Group of everything but their bodies.
Chairman Yoo let out a hollow breath in disbelief before his face twisted with rage.
“Are these bastards actually calling that a proposal?!”
As Yoo’s neck veins bulged with fury, Executive Director Jung Jin-woo, sweating profusely, spoke in a trembling voice.
“I protested, Chairman. I begged, I argued—it was impossible to accept such conditions. But the Blue House’s stance was unwavering.”
He glanced at the chairman, who was gasping and trembling with suppressed rage, before continuing with difficulty.
“They gave us an ultimatum: if we do not accept, the creditors will immediately push us into court receivership.”
“You…!”
Yoo clenched his fists so tightly his whole body shook with humiliation and rage.
The executives’ faces also turned pale, realizing this wasn’t mere pressure—it meant the Blue House and the government were prepared to dismantle Daekwang Group altogether.
With a heavy tone, Jung Jin-woo tried to reason with the chairman.
“Chairman, you know better than anyone that we can’t even dream of securing new credit. Domestic banks are refusing to roll over our loans and are demanding repayment instead. Right now, we’re barely staving off bankruptcy with ultra-short-term loans maturing in as little as ten days.”
“…..”
“The total of these rolling short-term loans amounts to ten trillion won. I hate to say this, but without government support, Chairman… we would be declared bankrupt that very day.”
As despair spread across the room, CFO Ahn Sung-jin lowered his gaze and added quietly,
“Humiliating as it is… as the Executive Director said, if we want to avoid bankruptcy, we have no other choice.”
Chairman Yoo bit down hard on his lower lip, eyes shut tight. Never in his life had he endured such humiliation.
To demand not only the group but everything he personally owned as well—it was beyond outrageous.
But no matter how hard he searched his mind, there was no other way forward but to accept the government’s demand.
In the end, looking as though he had aged ten years in an instant, Chairman Yoo reluctantly opened his mouth.
“...Contact the Blue House. Tell them we’ll comply with their demand.”
And with that, he sank into despair, as the illusion he had clung to—that “too big to fail” would protect him and Daekwang Group—was shattered to pieces.
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