“Hmm....”

Rustle.

I flipped through the documents, nodding slowly.

This one's a goner.

“Ji-yeon, I don’t think this one can be saved. I’ve seen zombie companies, but this is something else... We’re better off dismantling it and absorbing the staff into a new structure.”

“Ah... I see. Alright, I’ll relay the message.”

I let out a small sigh.

In the mirror, I could see Yoo Ha-yeon agonizing over such a complicated yet trivial matter. Ugh, I really should be spending my time on more important things.

Like the Eastern Phantom Chronicle play I plan to officially release next year... Though let’s be honest, people are going to play more Fallout than that.

Still, it’s oddly satisfying. It’s like that feeling from childhood when you pitched a blanket tent under your desk to make a secret base.

Hum hum.

Humming to myself, I leisurely scanned the list of companies that would soon become my secret base.

Yeah, yeah. There’s a certain charm in building an empire out of these weird, ugly companies, don’t you think?

“Ugh... but no matter how I look at it, the construction sector’s really in bad shape. Finance can still be salvaged here and there, but construction... hmm...”

I trailed off.

I don’t mean to be rude, but with things this disorganized, how am I supposed to save them? You can put an old blanket in a kid’s secret base, but you can’t put in garbage.

Not that I’m saying all Korean companies are trash or anything...

“Which securities firm should we assign this one to? Also, this... Cheonggang Construction looks a bit promising.”

Seo Ji-yeon blinked beside me as she skimmed the list of bankrupt firms. Her eye for value was still underdeveloped, making it clear she found the filtering process difficult.

“Since it’s a financial firm, just pass the smaller ones to Daehwa Investment Bank. Oh, and from now on, you handle construction.”

“Huh? But you just said the construction sector’s not doing well...”

Thud.

Smiling faintly, I handed her the documents on my side.

“Exactly why you’re doing it. You only grow by working through difficult stuff. I was going to leave this to you anyway.”

Why assign it to Seo Ji-yeon? Because I wanted to show her what happens when you try to save a company that shouldn’t be saved.

Soft-hearted decisions always end in failure. Some may revive, but most will just drag along dead weight until they’re restructured again later.

‘Not that it matters much anyway.’

Like I said before, I’ve grown too massive to be affected. I could swallow them whole without blinking. And having a few failures helps dispel suspicion of foul play.

“Next, go check out Cheonggang Group.”

If I remember correctly, they were placed under court receivership and then completely collapsed. Not that they’re the only ones.

“Ah, okay. Cheonggang Group. Then which... company should I use? I’m not ready to assign anything to Daehwa Group yet...”

Ah right, that.

After thinking briefly, I picked one.

“There’s a shell company prepared under BBB. BS Investment. It hasn’t been used yet, but now’s a good time.”

It’s already decided that I’m going to buy out Korea’s chaebols. The only question is—under whose name?

Naturally, I had to be the real owner. But I couldn’t outright devour all the Korean firms myself.

In capitalism, monopolies eventually lead to inefficiencies. That’s why even in the U.S., anti-trust laws exist.

There was also the matter of money. Bargain sale or not, where would I even get the cash to buy entire corporations?

From the outside, I was a lucky asset owner with tons of capital and a respected fund manager recognized by Alpha Fund... but not to the extent of acquiring dozens of conglomerates.

So that meant I had to make the acquisitions under Alpha Fund’s name—but would anyone accept that? It wouldn’t just be the Korean government raising eyebrows; even the American government and investors would find it strange.

A single entity—a hedge fund, no less—swallowing an entire national industry? That’s a bit much.

So the point is: it doesn’t need to be one single legal entity.

“Just make it look like a few hedge funds did well and decided to expand into Korea. Use that as a front to create new firms...”

“Right, then Miss won’t be criticized and can manage things smoothly.”

I nodded.

In exchange for bailing out a few poor souls from Wall Street ruined by options, I dressed up those firms as plausible investors and brought them into Korea.

From the Korean perspective, they all look like just another pack of American wolves, so nobody’s going to dig too deep. Like I’ve said multiple times, most Koreans don’t even know what Goldman Sachs or JP Morgan do.

“Hmm... but Ji-yeon, there’s no one at Cheonggang who knows your face, right?”

She’s spent most of her time in Seoul, and Cheonggang Group’s all the way in Daegu, so it’s unlikely. Still, it’d be a hassle if someone recognized her.

“...Me? Me??”

Seo Ji-yeon pointed at her own chest in alarm.

“What are you talking about? Of course you’re going.”

“B-but... I’m still a minor! And we can’t even fake IDs here. Korea’s not exactly easy on identity fraud...”

“Oh, that? Doesn’t matter anymore. Just bluff your way through.”

“...What?”

“If they have a problem with it, tell them to cough up some money. Besides, Korea’s minor criteria will soon change to match the U.S., so you’re fine now.”

It’s not like she’d be the only teenager running a business in Korea. Seo Ji-yeon just needs to act like she belongs. Say she’s so exceptional she’s already the CEO.

‘Even if she doesn’t seem it, Ji-yeon’s kind of a big shot.’

Anyway, that’s Korea for you now.

A lawless land where laws don’t actually function.

***

A cold winter wind swept through Daegu. At the city’s most expensive plot of land stood the Cheonggang Group headquarters, now exuding an eerie desolation.

The prestige of a conglomerate once ranked in the top 30 was gone. A court °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° notice announcing receivership and creditor protest banners fluttered at the front gate.

Just then, a convoy of sleek black sedans silently pulled up.

Click.

The car doors opened, and neatly dressed professionals stepped out. Among them, one woman immediately drew all eyes—young and strikingly beautiful.

“Sigh... This isn’t really my specialty.”

“But you’re still in high school. You don’t even have a specialty yet, do you?”

“Hey, quiet. I’m at least master’s degree level, alright?”

Though grumbling, she exuded an air of intellectual elitism. None other than Seo Ji-yeon, CEO of BS Investment.

Behind her followed elite staff from BBB’s Asia division, dispatched for this very task.

Seo Ji-yeon paused to look up at the faded sign engraved on the building: Cheonggang Group. A fallen titan that once helped drive Korea’s economic growth.

‘Back then, these places looked so big...’

A flicker of complicated emotion crossed her eyes before she returned to a composed businesswoman’s expression.

“Ma’am, the court officials and Cheonggang’s emergency response committee are waiting.”

At her secretary’s report, she gave a small nod. Though she’d just joked about not being an expert, Seo Ji-yeon had already played the role of a corporate heavyweight many times at Aqua Capital.

Since middle school, she’d absorbed the teachings of a genius and gained endless practical experience. The only person who thought she was “acting” was probably herself.

Click! Click!

The moment she entered the lobby, a flurry of camera flashes exploded from the waiting press.

The unexpected appearance of a foreign investment firm—and a young female CEO—caused a ripple of shock through the gloomy halls of Cheonggang Group.

“Director Seo of BS Investment! Is it true you're interested in acquiring Cheonggang Group?”

“Do you have any particular reason for taking on Cheonggang Group, given its enormous debt burden?”

Reporters fired questions, but Seo Ji-yeon remained silent and walked toward the meeting room. Inside waited the court-appointed administrator, a few remaining Cheonggang executives, and major creditor banks—all wearing heavy expressions.

Their eyes showed faint hope laced with deep distrust. Numerous domestic and foreign investors had expressed interest before, only to back out upon facing Cheonggang’s debt and tangled interests.

“Thank you for making the trip, Director Seo. I’m Attorney Kim Cheol-joong, the court-appointed administrator.”

The man stood and extended his hand. His tone was courteous, but his eyes dissected her sharply.

It was obvious. A company no one had heard of was suddenly growing and attempting to acquire a half-collapsed conglomerate?

After brief introductions, the real negotiations began.

“Let’s begin the briefing. Cheonggang Group’s current financial condition is...”

The administrator laid out the company’s financials, asset listings, and debt structure.

“This is hopeless.”

“...Please remain quiet.”

“What? I’m wrong?”

“....”

Just as one of the creditor representatives muttered, the numbers were bleak. Core affiliates were bleeding, and beyond real estate, there were no notable assets. Even the real estate would plummet once reassessed due to lack of demand.

The worst part was the debt—ballooning like a snowball. Not only were there financial institution loans, but also unpaid bills to suppliers and loans taken under employees’ names. A literal sandcastle built on a mountain of debt.

When the briefing ended, silence weighed down the room. The creditor rep sighed again and again, and the Cheonggang execs bowed their heads in shame.

Everyone was watching Seo Ji-yeon’s mouth. Waiting, nervous, to hear what she would say or demand.

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if pondering deeply, then opened them.

“...Where are the rest?”

“...Sorry?”

Heh.

She chuckled faintly and glanced at the Cheonggang executives. According to the intel—these were all nobodies. Either hastily promoted scapegoats or nobodies from minor affiliates. The real power players weren’t here.

“Yes, we at BS Investment are here because we believe in Cheonggang Group’s potential. We are aware of the current difficulties and believe in finding opportunity amidst crisis.”

That was the formal line.

“But... where are the people in charge?”

“T-that would be me...”

She looked at him with eyes full of pity. As if saying outright, how pathetic. Her gaze hardened the room.

“I don’t think so. I came here to see Cheonggang Group. There’s a golf development affiliate, Cheonggang Landscaping... even a hotel manager here. But as far as I know, Cheonggang Group is a construction company.”

“Uh...”

“I came to see the real Cheonggang Group. So—where is it?”

She paused and looked around.

No one answered.