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CH380 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 14:44:50 +0000 UTCThe next day.
As soon as the foreign exchange market opened, a torrent of massive sell orders for the won flooded in, and the won-dollar exchange rate instantly surged past the 1,000-won mark again.
The efforts of the government and the Bank of Korea to pour out their foreign reserves and drag the rate back down had all been for nothing—it was as if none of it had ever happened.
Phones were ringing off the hook from every direction, and traders were shouting themselves hoarse while gripping their receivers—there was no other word for it: the trading floor at Korea Exchange Bank was a battlefield.
“Sold 14 at 1.9!”
“What? Say again!”
“Fourteen at 1.9!”
“Okay—done!”
[USD/KRW: 1,001.9 (+5.7)]
Department Head Lee Eon-soo, with his shirt sleeves rolled up and a cigarette clamped between his lips, stared unblinkingly at the large electronic price board on the opposite wall, where the USD-KRW exchange rate was displayed.
As the rate shot up at the opening bell, they had immediately begun selling the dollars entrusted to them by the Bank of Korea to counter the spike—but the climbing rate showed no signs of slowing.
“This is driving me nuts…”
Scratching the back of his head in frustration, Lee Eon-soo clicked his tongue just as Deputy Manager Na Un-hak turned in his chair and shouted across the floor.
“Sir! Daekwang Group is requesting a buy of 20 million dollars. What should I tell them?”
Lee Eon-soo’s face twisted into a deep scowl.
“You know the government’s restricting foreign exchange right now, don’t you? The rate’s skyrocketing as it is—are they trying to pour gasoline on a fire or what?!”
“They say it’s to repay a loan they took out from a Japanese bank.”
Already steaming, Lee Eon-soo was about to snap again but paused, pressing his fingers to his forehead.
“Are you sure about that?”
“They submitted documentation to the Ministry of Finance and got it approved.”
Lee let out a long sigh and gave a bitter look.
“Then we’ve got no choice. Go ahead and process it.”
“Understood.”
Na Un-hak picked up the receiver and immediately placed the order.
Still standing, Lee turned his eyes to the monitor on his desk.
The numbers were flashing and bouncing up and down by the second, while the order book was quickly piling up with sell orders for the won. The exchange rate looked ready to shoot up even higher.
The speculative attack was fierce—but what was really pushing the rate upward today was the sudden explosion in demand from domestic companies scrambling to buy dollars.
After Yamaichi Securities filed for bankruptcy the previous day, Japanese banks and financial firms—shaken by the news—had rushed to collect outstanding debts and secure liquidity.
That move hit Korean companies hard, especially those that had been relying on cheap foreign currency loans from Japan.
“This... this is looking really bad…”
Lee Eon-soo’s expression darkened as he stared at the exchange rate that showed no signs of dropping.
*
At the same time.
Seok-won sat alone in his spacious office, watching the USD-KRW exchange rate chart on his monitor while speaking on the phone with John Porter, the head of the Japan branch of the Eldorado Fund.
[There’s talk that the Japanese cabinet is preparing to offer a special loan worth hundreds of billions of yen to bail out Yamaichi Securities.]
Seok-won raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“They’re thinking of bailing them out with public funds? Even after the massive hidden losses from the accounting fraud were exposed—and on top of that, they took a big hit from the CDS option contracts we executed with them.”
[The Japanese economy and stock markets are already in bad shape. It looks like they’re desperate to contain the damage from a full-blown collapse of Yamaichi Securities.]
Seok-won gave a small nod, understanding the logic.
“Well, considering Yamaichi is one of the top four securities firms in Japan with assets close to one trillion yen, letting it go under would definitely cause a major shock.”
[Exactly. The bankruptcy filing is already spooking the Japanese financial sector—banks and brokerages are scrambling to recover bonds and secure liquidity, which is drying up the market fast. The Japanese cabinet probably felt it had no choice but to step in quickly.]
Since the fallout was already hitting Korea as well, Seok-won’s expression turned grim.
“If that emergency loan really goes through, I guess we don’t have to worry about losing what Yamaichi owes us.”
[You instructed us to place a lien on Yamaichi’s real estate holdings, including their Tokyo headquarters, right before the bankruptcy filing. So even if the bailout doesn’t come through and they go under, we’re protected. It’ll take some time, but we won’t be taking a loss.]
Leaning back in his chair, Seok-won spoke into the phone.
“Still, rather than going through all that legal red tape, it’d be a lot cleaner and faster if they just paid up now.”
[True enough.]
“Did Nomura and Daiwa pay out the profits?”
[Yes. Ten billion dollars each has been wired.]
“That’s a relief. Go ahead and deposit the funds into the New York head office account, same as last time.”
[Understood.]
As Seok-won glanced back at the exchange rate chart, which was still showing strong momentum, he asked another question.
“What’s the Nikkei futures index at right now?”
There was a brief pause as Porter presumably checked the numbers.
[It’s currently trading at 16,551.06.]
“It’s dropped quite a bit.”
[It’s plummeted 18% from the point where we entered our position. That’s a huge fall.]
Porter let out a light chuckle on the other end of the line.
“We’re nowhere near the bottom yet—keep holding the position.”
[Will do. Honestly, in this kind of climate, I think we’ll see an even deeper decline.]
It was an obvious conclusion—anyone could see that the Nikkei had now entered a full-blown bear market.
“With this Yamaichi Securities incident, the long-concealed vulnerabilities of Japan’s financial sector have finally surfaced. The entire system is going to face a tough period. Short-sell Sanyo, Marusho Securities, Takushoku Bank, and Tokuyo City Bank.”
[The others I understand, but Takushoku Bank is one of the largest regional banks in Japan. Do you really think its stock will fall enough to justify a short position?]
Takushoku Bank, based in Hokkaido, operated nationwide and ranked among Japan’s top ten banks by total assets—a major financial institution by any measure.
“It’s a textbook example of a bank that expanded rapidly during the bubble era. And that means they issued a lot of loans to real estate deals back when property prices were soaring.”
[Ah… in that case…]
Realizing what Seok-won meant, Porter let out a low murmur of understanding.
“When the bubble burst, all those reckless real estate loans turned into non-performing assets. With an NPL ratio of 13.4%, Takushoku holds the highest proportion of bad loans among all city banks in Japan. That alone should tell you just how weak their balance sheet is.”
[But isn’t the Ministry of Finance pushing for a merger with Hokkaido Bank? If that goes through, wouldn’t they be able to offload a good chunk of their bad debt?]
Seok-won, however, responded as if the idea was of little consequence.
“Two banks from the same region that have long been competitors trying to merge? That’s never an easy process. And it’s even harder when one of them is burdened with a mountain of toxic debt.”
[…So you’re saying the merger will likely fall through.]
“Exactly. And once that happens, disappointment will trigger a sharp decline in their stock price.”
[Understood.]
Porter now sounded convinced by the explanation.
“When the special loan for Yamaichi Securities is officially announced, financial stocks—especially the ones that have already taken a nosedive—will likely see a short-lived rebound. Don’t miss that moment. That’s the perfect time to hit them with short-selling.”
[Got it. I’ll time it accordingly.]
After issuing a few more instructions, Seok-won ended the call and set his phone down on the desk, turning his eyes back to the monitor.
Despite the government’s aggressive defense efforts, the exchange rate showed no signs of retreating.
It felt like the country was dangling by a thread over the edge of a cliff. Seok-won muttered under his breath.
“With Japan now unable to offer the help we hoped for, IMF intervention seems to be the only path left. The real question is—will the government have the guts to make that call before it’s too late? Honestly, I have my doubts.”
Just as a frown was beginning to form on his brow, a knock came at the door.
“Come in.”
Han Ji-sung stepped into the office and approached the desk.
“I have some news to report.”
“What is it?”
“Donghae Group just filed for court receivership with the Seoul District Court a short while ago.”
Though Seok-won had already been tipped off by his informant, Lee Chul-gyun, that Donghae Group’s collapse was imminent, actually hearing that they had formally filed for receivership stirred up a flurry of mixed emotions.
Originally, both groups had been locked in a fierce struggle over control of the Mido Department Store—only to be swept away together by the relentless tide of the IMF crisis, seemingly doomed to mutual destruction.
But then Seok-won had intervened, and what was supposed to be a shared downfall had instead turned into a clear victory and defeat. That made the moment all the more surreal.
With a calm expression, Seok-won gave a small nod.
“Got it. You can go now.”
Han Ji-sung bowed slightly and turned to leave the office.
Once the door closed, Seok-won leaned back in his chair, recalling the last time he saw Chairman Woo Yong-gap and his son Woo Ho-geun—how they had glared at him with hostility.
Like father, like son—they were both ruthlessly ambitious and adept at underhanded schemes.
“They should’ve known that excessive greed only brings ruin.”
Had they not been so obsessed with swallowing up Mido Department Store, the fate of Donghae Group might have been entirely different.
Just then, his phone buzzed with a vibrating alert. Seok-won picked it up and answered the call.
[It’s me.]
Hearing Chairman Park Tae-hong’s voice—slightly shaky, unlike his usual tone—Seok-won sat up straight.
“Yes, Father.”
[Did you hear about Donghae Group?]
“I just got the news.”
Chairman Park was silent for a moment, and then spoke in a deep, heavy voice.
[Thank you.]
Startled, Seok-won couldn’t respond right away. His father’s voice continued.
[If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have been able to stop Donghae Group’s scheme to snatch away Mido Department Store. And with the economy freezing up like this, we wouldn’t have been able to stay afloat while everyone else was scrambling to deal with funding shortages.]
“I’m sure you would’ve handled it just fine even without me, Father.”
At that, Chairman Park let out a quiet chuckle.
[I know my own limits better than anyone. Maybe I could’ve held on to Mido somehow. But I wouldn’t have been able to weather the storm that followed. I’d have ended up like Chairman Woo—forced to let go of the company in the end.]
Not knowing what to say, Seok-won simply listened in silence.
Then Chairman Park spoke again, his voice full of pride.
[Raising you has been the best thing I’ve ever done. I know you’ll manage well, but even so—just keep doing what you’re doing.]
“Yes, Father.”
[You must be busy. I hope I didn’t take up too much of your time. Let’s talk more later. I’ll hang up now.]
“Yes. Take care.”
Seok-won lowered the phone from his ear, a dazed look settling on his face.
“I never imagined Father would praise me like that.”
Chairman Park Tae-hong, usually stern and reserved, had expressed his true feelings for the first time—and the unexpected recognition left Seok-won feeling both surprised and quietly elated.
A smile crept across his lips.
“Not a bad feeling at all.”
It was especially overwhelming because it was a feeling he had never once experienced in his previous life.
