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CH461 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-09-10 15:31:10 +0000 UTC“I’ll personally instruct the relevant department not to drag things out and to handle this matter quickly. You needn’t worry.”
“Thank you.”
Hearing President Ivanov’s words, spoken with visible satisfaction, Seok-won smiled as he replied.
Then President Ivanov burst into a hearty laugh that filled the entire office and said warmly,
“President Park, you are the friend who helped Russia in our most difficult times. If you ever need anything, come to me anytime.”
“I will.”
In the cordial atmosphere, Seok-won shook hands with him and soon turned to leave the office together with Branch Chief Pavlovich.
As the heavy wooden door closed, Prime Minister Vasily looked at President Ivanov with a worried expression and cautiously spoke.
“Even if it’s an old launch vehicle, it is still a matter of national strategic technology. I’m not sure it’s wise to hand over the complete Proton rocket technology—along with the actual rockets themselves.”
President Ivanov sat back down on the sofa. Instead of answering, he pressed the intercom button on the side table.
“Bring me a glass of vodka.”
[Understood.]
The secretary’s voice answered through the speaker.
Loosening his tie with one hand, President Ivanov glanced at Prime Minister Vasily, who had taken a seat beside him.
“You heard him too—he said if we do this, he’ll hand over thirty billion dollars’ worth of government bonds.”
“But this is highly sensitive technology that could be converted into intercontinental ballistic missiles at any moment. Not only that, the Proton rocket embodies the entirety of Russia’s space technology. Giving it away so easily will bring us more loss than gain.”
When Prime Minister Vasily replied uneasily, President Ivanov frowned slightly.
Just then, a knock sounded from outside, and the secretary entered, setting down a crystal glass filled with ice and a bottle of strong vodka on the wooden table before leaving again.
Even though he knew the president loved to drink, Vasily couldn’t help frowning inwardly at the sight of him drinking vodka in broad daylight, and in the office no less.
Especially not in ordinary times, but in a time of crisis when the economy was faltering and the government had declared a moratorium—it seemed utterly irresponsible for the president to behave this way.
While Prime Minister Vasily sat trying to keep his expression neutral, President Ivanov drained the cold vodka in one gulp.
“Indeed, vodka is far better than bland tea.”
Leaning back against the sofa with a look of relief, President Ivanov finally replied in a casual tone.
“You do realize that once the ninety-day grace period ends, we’ll have to repay more than ten billion dollars in government bonds and interest all at once.”
“Of course.”
“We’ve managed to catch our breath thanks to the emergency bailout funds from the West, which refilled our coffers. But when such a massive outflow of foreign currency happens all at once, no one can guarantee that another foreign exchange crisis won’t hit us again.”
“……”
“You also know we can’t just print more government bonds to pay off our debts, don’t you?”
The easiest and least burdensome way was to issue new bonds to roll over the ones reaching maturity.
But after the moratorium declaration, Russia had completely lost the trust of the markets. No one was willing to buy Russian bonds.
Even if some buyers could be found and the rollover succeeded, the interest rate would be far higher than usual. In that case, it was better not to issue new bonds at all.
Because when maturity came, the interest to be paid would exceed the principal itself, refraining from issuing new bonds was actually the lesser loss.
Caught in this true dilemma, Prime Minister Vasily let out a sigh without realizing it.
“President Park holds bonds that all mature this month, meaning the moment the grace period ends, we must repay them all in cash. But if we accept their request, we can wipe out a third of the government bonds due after the moratorium.”
President Ivanov narrowed his eyes at Prime Minister Vasily.
“If we can raise three billion dollars by next month, I’ll refuse their proposal, just as you suggest. Do you think that’s possible?”
Vasily pressed his lips together tightly, unable to answer.
President Ivanov, who had never thought highly of Vasily in the first place and had only recalled him out of necessity, gave a snort as though he had expected this silence.
“If you have nothing more to say, then just do as you’re told.”
Lifting his crystal glass with an arrogant air, he took another drink of vodka. Vasily felt a surge of anger rising within him.
But three billion dollars in government bonds coming due in just a few months was more urgent than the Proton rocket technology. In the end, he could only grit his teeth and let it go.
Even if the Koreans received all the technology, they’d never be able to produce a space launch vehicle on their own. They’ve never launched a satellite before.
Vasily’s prejudice was that, no matter how influential Seok-won was on Wall Street, space development required immense funds and cutting-edge technology—something no private company could ever manage.
That was why Prime Minister Vasily ultimately backed down instead of continuing his opposition.
At that time, neither he nor anyone else could have imagined that in less than thirty years, space development would shift entirely from government-led to private-led initiatives.
***
Moscow
In the penthouse living room of the Radisson Royal Hotel on the banks of the Moskva River, Seok-won sat with one leg crossed, sipping coffee as he listened to Branch Chief Pavlovich’s report.
“The Kremlin has arranged for you to meet tomorrow with officials from Roscosmos, along with representatives from Khrunichev, so that you can negotiate the detailed terms of the contract.”
Its official name was the Khrunichev State Research and Production Space Center. It was Russia’s premier aerospace enterprise, having designed and produced not only the Proton rocket series but also every Russian space station, including Mir.
Setting down his cup, Seok-won turned his gaze toward Assistant Manager Han Ji-seong, who was standing to the side.
“When did Dr. Choi say he would arrive?”
“He departed Seoul today on a private jet and is scheduled to arrive late in the evening.”
Dr. Choi Tae-ho was a renowned authority in aerospace engineering, with both skill and prestige from his years at NASA.
A few years earlier, he had returned to Korea to teach younger students at a university. Seok-won, however, had recruited him with the intention of placing him at the helm of the private space enterprise he planned to establish.
“That’s good news. Dr. Choi is the one who understands the technical side best. Make sure he’s prepared to join the negotiations.”
“Understood.”
Straightening his posture, Seok-won turned his attention back to Branch Chief Pavlovich.
“How is our involvement in the Sakhalin-II project coming along?”
“As you know, Royal Dutch Shell, the oil major, holds 55% of the shares and is leading the project, while the Japanese companies Mitsui and Mitsubishi own the remaining 45%.”
“Which means there’s no room for us to step in.”
Pavlovich, reading the mood, hesitated before replying.
“The Kremlin said that if they had any shares themselves, they would sell them directly, but since they do not, they’ve proposed an alternative.”
“And what would that be?”
“They’re offering us a stake in the Sakhalin-III field instead of Sakhalin-II.”
The Sakhalin-III field was located offshore, about 24 kilometers east of Sakhalin Island.
“It has estimated reserves of 5.376 billion barrels of crude oil and 1.073 trillion cubic meters of natural gas. Economically speaking, it’s far more valuable than Sakhalin-II.”
“That would only be true if drilling proves successful.”
“Pardon?”
When Pavlovich looked at him in confusion, Seok-won simply waved his hand lightly.
“Nothing. Forget it.”
He tapped the armrest of the sofa with his fingertips as he gathered his thoughts.
It was widely believed that Block 3—known as Sakhalin-III—held more oil reserves than Blocks 1 and 2 combined. As Pavlovich had said, it was a field that everyone coveted.
In fact, the American oil giant ExxonMobil had won the development rights back in 1993 and had planned to begin exploration.
But since the Russian government never granted final approval, the project had remained stagnant.
If I remember correctly, it wasn’t until 2005 that the project truly began to take shape.
After the Russian government reclaimed the original rights and put them up for re-bid, competition became fierce. Japan, China, and Korea—all three Northeast Asian powers—jumped in aggressively.
Because Blocks 1 and 2 had already delivered massive discoveries of oil and natural gas, expectations for Sakhalin-III were sky-high, pushing its value even further.
In the end, after a heated contest, China’s largest oil company, Sinopec, won the stake and partnered with the Russian state-owned oil company Rosneft to begin exploration.
But despite the high hopes, they poured in vast sums of exploration capital only to face disappointing results. Within three years, Sinopec abandoned the project entirely and withdrew.
Knowing that history, Seok-won had no intention of accepting shares in Sakhalin-III—even if they were handed to him for free.
Still, walking away from oil and gas fields in Sakhalin entirely would be too great a loss.
As he wrestled with the dilemma, a clever idea soon came to him.
“If they were to give us a stake in the Sakhalin-III field, how much would they be willing to offer?”
As soon as Seok-won finished his thoughts, Branch Chief Pavlovich, who had been waiting, quickly responded.
“They said they would transfer half—50%—for seventy million dollars.”
“Not a bad price. Tell them we’ll proceed with the purchase of Block 3 shares as proposed.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“And what about the proposals we sent to companies like Gazprom?”
“Given the poor state of the economy, most of them are struggling. They’ve responded positively to converting the corporate bonds we hold into equity.”
Seok-won nodded slightly, as though he had expected that answer.
“With Gazprom and Yukos already running deficits due to low oil prices, it makes perfect sense.”
“Exactly.”
But once international oil prices hit bottom and started climbing again, those companies would surely regret converting their bonds into shares.
Seok-won, on the other hand, had bought those bonds at a 90% discount. Converting them into stocks that would rise many times over in the coming years meant he was securing an enormous profit.
With a satisfied expression spreading across his face, Seok-won continued talking with Branch Chief Pavlovich for quite some time.
In the middle of their discussion, Assistant Manager Han Ji-seong approached quietly and spoke.
“Sir, your guest has arrived.”
“I see.”
A glint appeared in Seok-won’s eyes as he turned to Pavlovich.
“Let’s continue the rest of our discussion another time.”
“Yes. Then I’ll take my leave.”
Branch Chief Pavlovich rose from the sofa and departed.
Watching the door close, Seok-won cast a sidelong glance and asked,
“You’ve kept everything we prepared ready?”
“Yes.”
Han Ji-sung brought over a silver aluminum case and lifted it slightly for Seok-won to see.
“It would be rude to keep our guest waiting too long. Shall we head down?”
Leaving the penthouse, Seok-won descended to another suite on a lower floor.
When his bodyguard, Baucus, pressed the doorbell, the sound of a lock being released came from inside. A burly white man with a solid frame opened the door.
With a sharp, piercing gaze, the man first locked eyes with Baucus, then briefly glanced at Seok-won and Han Ji-seong standing behind him. Without a word, he stepped aside to let them in.
As Seok-won walked past and entered the suite, a man who had been sitting alone on the wide living room sofa rose to his feet and came forward.
Around 170 centimeters tall with a compact, muscular build, the man’s eyes were sharp and intense, giving off a cold and commanding presence.
That man was none other than Vladimir Putin—destined before long to rise as the most powerful figure in Russia.
“This is our first time meeting face-to-face. I’m Vladimir Putin.”
With an expression so rigid it looked as though not a drop of blood would flow if pricked by a needle, he extended one hand and greeted them in fluent English.
Seok-won smiled faintly and clasped his hand.
“I’m Park Seok-won. It’s a true pleasure to meet you.”
