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CH494 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-09-03 18:17:54 +0000 UTCIn the spacious chairman’s office, Seok-won sat on the sofa with one leg crossed, while Jung Gyucheol, president of Bluehole Construction, and Choi Taeho, president of Blue Sky, sat on either side of him.
“Thanks to your personal appearance at the briefing and the way you persuaded everyone, the mood among the local residents has completely shifted since that day. We’ve secured over ninety percent approval signatures for the space center’s construction, and land acquisition is moving along smoothly.”
“How about the civic groups?”
At Seok-won’s question, President Jung Gyucheol showed his teeth in a grin as he replied.
“They still hold occasional protests, raising concerns about resident safety and environmental damage, but since the local residents have fully changed sides, they’re not gaining much traction.”
Then, wearing a look of satisfaction, he added,
“In fact, the moment they even hint at staging a protest, the residents get angry and drive them out. I hear they can’t even set foot near Moseulpo anymore.”
Hearing this, Seok-won also smiled.
“If those civic groups had managed to interfere, the project would have been bogged down with delays. It’s great that the residents themselves are keeping them in check.”
“This is all thanks to the bold proposal you made at the briefing that won the residents over. Offering to lease alternative farmland, building the long-awaited general hospital, and creating good jobs—if it were me, I’d also support the space center.”
President Choi Taeho, who sat across from them, agreed with Jung Gyucheol’s words.
“When I heard about it afterward, I was amazed. Now I understand why you were so confident from the start that you could overcome the residents’ opposition.”
Looking at him with admiration, Seok-won lifted his cup, took a sip of coffee, and replied casually, as if it were nothing.
“You know the saying, time is money. To launch our first space rocket on schedule, the space center—the foundation of everything—is essential. If investing money allows us to push the project forward faster, then it’s well worth it.”
At that, Jung Gyucheol chuckled, shaking his head with a look that said he hardly knew what to say.
“Between building a general hospital, expanding the roads, and acquiring farmland for lease, over three hundred billion won in additional investment had to be made just to persuade the residents. You’re probably the only person who could treat that as nothing significant.”
President Choi Taeho looked at him as if to say he felt the same way.
Receiving the two men’s gazes, Seok-won gave a light smile and, in a calm tone, naturally shifted the subject.
“By the way, how did things go with your trip to the U.S.?”
At Seok-won’s question, President Choi Taeho straightened his posture before replying.
“I was able to reach out to some former and current colleagues I knew from my time at NASA. We managed to recruit around thirty specialists in launch control and engineering.”
Hearing this, Seok-won looked slightly surprised.
“Retirees, sure, but still—working at NASA must offer better treatment and conditions than here in Korea. I’m glad, though also a little surprised, that so many accepted the offer.”
“As you say, normally it wouldn’t have been easy to scout them. But we were lucky.”
“What do you mean?”
Seok-won tilted his head in curiosity.
“You know that the reason the United States founded NASA and fully entered the space race was because of the Sputnik shock, right?”
“Of course.”
When the Soviet Union, Russia’s predecessor, succeeded in launching the world’s first artificial satellite, Sputnik 1, ahead of the United States, it sent shockwaves not only through the American government and scientific community but also among the general public. That event came to be called the Sputnik Crisis.
At the time, the world was starkly divided between the capitalist and communist blocs, locked in fierce confrontation. The United States believed it was far ahead of the Soviet Union in cutting-edge science and technology and tended to look down on them.
Then, out of nowhere, on October 4, 1957, the Soviet Union announced the successful launch of Sputnik 1—and the Americans were stunned.
“At the time, when the Soviets claimed to have developed an intercontinental ballistic missile capable of carrying a hydrogen bomb even more powerful than the atomic bomb, the U.S. and other Western countries dismissed it as bluffing. But once they actually launched the world’s first artificial satellite, the sense of crisis and fear finally set in.”
“That’s right. A space launch vehicle and an intercontinental ballistic missile are practically the same thing. So, if the Soviets could put a satellite into orbit, it meant they could also fire a missile carrying a nuclear warhead across continents, straight into the United States.”
“And that’s why, to catch up in the space race, NASA was established just a year later as a presidential-level agency.”
Seok-won had proven many times that he possessed an impressive depth of knowledge about space development.
President Choi Taeho, quietly admiring this fact, continued speaking.
“After NASA was established, the United States launched its first manned space program, Project Mercury, and then the Apollo program to send humans to the moon. The U.S. poured in enormous sums of money, engaging in an intense space race with the Soviet Union.”
Because of that, ten years after the Sputnik shock, in 1969, the United States achieved the monumental feat of leaving humanity’s first footprints on the moon through Apollo 11.
“Of course, there have been many achievements and astonishing technological advancements, but with the end of the Cold War and the subsequent reduction in military spending, NASA couldn’t avoid sweeping budget cuts. Its operations have been greatly scaled back.”
Up to that point, the Cold War had served as a shield that justified pouring in endless amounts of money, but now the time had come to tighten the belt.
With a bitter look, Choi Taeho said,
“I found out that many of the planned projects have been canceled, and a large number of employees have either been laid off or are living with the uncertainty of when their positions might disappear.”
At that, Seok-won straightened up on the sofa, his eyes sharpening with interest.
“I knew NASA was downsizing, but I didn’t realize it had gotten to the point of letting go of even its top talent.”
“No matter how skilled or respected an engineer might be, if the project they were assigned to gets canceled, they can’t just stay on. What makes things worse is that the new NASA Administrator is pushing a slogan of ‘faster, better, cheaper,’ and has been leading the way in cutting costs wherever possible. The situation has become even more difficult.”
Choi Taeho shrugged as he relayed what he had personally seen and heard.
“For NASA employees, it’s disheartening and devastating. But for us, it’s the perfect opportunity to recruit well-trained, highly skilled professionals.”
As if he had been waiting for this moment, Choi Taeho leaned forward quickly and said,
“There are simply too many talented people to let slip by. I believe we should stretch ourselves a little, if necessary, to recruit as many as we can during this chance.”
He glanced at Seok-won carefully.
If he was eager to bring them in, they were clearly outstanding high-level professionals. But that also meant the cost of recruitment would be considerable, and since Seok-won held the purse strings, his approval was essential.
Seok-won lifted one hand, stroking his clean-shaven chin, and asked,
“If we increase the number of people we recruit from the U.S., won’t that drive up operating costs beyond what we budgeted?”
President Choi Taeho quickly responded.
“As you pointed out, rising operating costs are unavoidable. But if we consider the tangible and intangible benefits of recruiting talented professionals with extensive field experience, I’m convinced it’s something we must do.”
“True. As we already learned from working with the Russian engineers, the know-how that seasoned veterans bring from years of experience isn’t something money alone can buy.”
“Exactly. For a newcomer in space development like us, recruiting skilled professionals who can pass down their accumulated expertise will directly determine whether our project succeeds.”
President Choi Taeho pressed his case with determination.
“Hm.”
Seok-won lightly tapped the armrest of the sofa with his fingertips, lost in thought for a moment.
Choi Taeho, watching him anxiously, felt a knot of nervousness in his chest.
But Seok-won didn’t deliberate for long. Soon, he lifted his head and spoke.
“As you said, luck has given us a golden chance to bring in exceptional talent. There’s no way we should let that slip away.”
“Then…”
“I’ll make sure the budget is there for whatever you need. Don’t worry about the money—just bring in all the people you think are necessary.”
Relieved that the budget wouldn’t become an obstacle, President Choi Taeho’s face lit up with joy.
“Thank you so much!”
He bowed deeply, nearly at a ninety-degree angle, and Seok-won smiled as he responded.
“What matters most is the success of the project. So, if you think there’s something we need, don’t hesitate to speak up, no matter what it is.”
“Understood.”
Even though the budget had already ballooned far beyond the original plan—with extra land purchases for the space center and the added costs of winning over the residents—Seok-won wasn’t worried in the least. In two years’ time, the returns would more than make up for the money spent, delivering a jackpot beyond measure.
After talking a while longer, Presidents Jung Gyucheol and Choi Taeho wrapped up the meeting and stood to leave.
When the secretary came in to clear the teacups from the table and then left again, it wasn’t long before a light knock sounded at the door. Assistant Manager Han Jisung stepped inside.
He walked up to the wide desk where Seok-won sat, carefully placed down a document envelope he was carrying, and said,
“This came from Songsan Trading.”
Songsan Trading was a private intelligence firm run by Lee Cheolgyun, a former officer from the police intelligence division, working on Seok-won’s behalf.
When Seok-won tore open the sealed envelope and pulled out the contents, he found a neatly bound booklet inside.
As Seok-won opened the booklet, Assistant Manager Han Jisung gave a polite bow.
“Then I’ll be on my way.”
“Ah, wait a moment.”
“Yes, sir.”
Han Jisung, who had already turned to leave, straightened up again.
“Is there something you need me to do?”
Instead of answering, Seok-won opened a desk drawer, pulled out a white envelope, and held it out.
“Take this.”
Han Jisung accepted the envelope in surprise, a puzzled look crossing his face. Seok-won explained.
“It’s a congratulatory gift for your promotion.”
“Pardon?”
Blinking in confusion, Han Jisung repeated the word back.
“The official announcement will come with the regular personnel notice next week, but I wanted to tell you myself first. Congratulations on your promotion to manager.”
Startled at first, Han Jisung soon smiled and bowed his head.
“Thank you very much.”
“From now on, I should call you Manager Han. I hope you’ll continue to handle your work just as well as you have until now.”
“Yes, I’ll devote myself wholeheartedly to assisting you, Chairman.”
Han Jisung was the kind of person who, even if he didn’t stand out, always managed to take care of what needed to be done, quietly and efficiently, like a shadow.
Ever since Han had begun accompanying him as his secretary, Seok-won had felt how much smoother his work had become, and he had no hesitation in recognizing his ability.
With a satisfied expression, Seok-won nodded.
“All right, you may go now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Han Ji-sung, his face slightly flushed, bowed even more deeply and respectfully before straightening and turning to leave.
Once the door closed, Seok-won picked up the booklet he had set down on his desk and slowly examined its contents.
Then his eyes caught on something, and they sharpened like blades.
[Chairman Shim Inyeol of Haecheon Group has filed a lawsuit with the Seoul Administrative Court seeking to nullify the Financial Supervisory Commission’s ruling to normalize the management of Minguk Life Insurance and cancel the decision to extinguish Minguk Life’s shares. In the midst of this, the FSC is expected to push ahead with a competitive bidding process for the sale of Minguk Life within the first half of the year…]
“So Minguk Life is finally hitting the market.”
Hearing that the long-awaited asset was about to be up for grabs, Seok-won’s lips curled into the dark smile of a predator who had just spotted his prey.
