After a week of daily negotiations with Microsoft, Seok-won finally reached an agreement to sell Hotmail for $470 million.
[$470 million?!]
Roy's excited voice rang through the speakerphone, followed by loud cheers from the other co-founders in the background.
Seok-won nodded with a faint smile.
"That's right."
[You got $170 million more than the original offer! We definitely made the right call leaving it to you.]
"But I'm sorry I couldn't make you billionaires like I promised."
[Are you serious? You really thought you could squeeze the full $500 million out of them?]
With this deal, Roy and his friends—Hotmail's original creators—were each walking away with $94 million.
"Of course I did. But Gates isn't exactly an easy opponent, so we settled at $470 million."
His tone was genuinely regretful, and though Roy couldn't be seen, Seok-won could imagine him shaking his head in disbelief.
[Unbelievable. You're something else, you know that? We're more than happy with this.]
[Yeah, we were already tempted at $300 million, but thanks to you, we're getting an extra $34 million each!]
[We're officially multimillionaires now!]
Frank and Bannerjee's voices chimed in loudly beside Roy, their excitement almost tangible.
If they'd had champagne, it would've been popping already.
Seok-won chuckled at the celebration on the other end.
"So we're all in agreement on the final amount?"
[Absolutely.]
The others quickly jumped in, eager to confirm.
[No-brainer!]
[Let's get those signatures done before Microsoft changes their mind. What are we waiting for?!]
Listening to the lively voices, Seok-won gave one last reminder.
"Alright. I'll be meeting with Gates tomorrow to sign the contract officially. They'll send over a faxed copy—read through it carefully, and if there's anything that doesn't sit right with you, call me immediately."
[Got it. And seriously—thank you.]
"I should be the one thanking you. This deal made me a lot of money too."
[Haha, fair point.]
With his hands in his pockets, Seok-won leaned back on the edge of his desk and casually asked:
"So, what are you going to do once the money comes in?"
[Man... It's such an unimaginable amount of money, I don't even know what to do with it. But first, I'm definitely getting myself a sweet sports car.]
"That doesn't sound like a bad idea."
With $94 million in hand, he could buy more than ten luxury sports cars without even making a dent.
And after everything they'd poured into it, they deserved to enjoy the rewards.
After chatting a bit longer, Seok-won pressed the hold button to hang up the call, then stood up from the desk in his private fund office. Just as he was about to leave, a thought crossed his mind and he murmured:
"Didn't Landon say a Lamborghini's worth around $150 million last time? I guess I know what to do with some of the profit now."
***
January 22, 1997
Daehung Group Headquarters
— Chairman's Office,
There was a knock on the door. As Park Jin-hyung, president of Daehung Textiles, stepped inside, Chairman Park Tae-hong, seated at the head sofa puffing a cigarette, turned and addressed him with a deep, heavy voice.
"Come in and have a seat."
"...Yes, sir."
Sensing the tense atmosphere, President Park exchanged a brief glance with Chief Secretary Gil Seongho, who was already seated, before cautiously taking the empty seat across from the chairman.
Watching the grim expression on Chairman Park's face, he asked carefully:
"Has something happened?"
Leaning back against the sofa, Chairman Park exhaled a slow stream of white smoke.
"Something has happened, alright. A damn big one."
Coming from Chairman Park—a man not known for exaggeration—those words sent a chill down President Park's spine.
Chairman Park gestured with his cigarette toward the chief secretary.
"Gil, you explain it to him."
"Yes, sir."
With a tight voice, Gil Seongho delivered the news that would soon shake both the financial world and the entire nation.
"It seems Hanbo Steel will be filing for bankruptcy as early as tomorrow."
"What?!"
President Park's eyes widened in shock. He leaned forward in disbelief and blurted out:
"But just yesterday, I heard that four creditor banks—including Korea Development Bank—were planning to inject more funds. Was that not the case?"
"That's true. However, Chairman Choi of Hanbo refused to meet their conditions—specifically, offering more shares as collateral and signing a letter relinquishing management rights. With that rejection, it seems the creditors shifted decisively toward bankruptcy."
Chairman Park clicked his tongue in disapproval and muttered:
"Greedy old Choi... Even with the ship sinking in the middle of a storm, he couldn't let go of the steel business."
President Park, now visibly shaken, imagined the immense financial and social repercussions about to hit South Korea and asked, stunned:
"But the banks have loaned Hanbo Steel trillions of won... Are you saying the Blue House is just going to let this collapse happen?"
If the 14th-largest conglomerate in the country collapsed under the weight of trillions of won in debt, it could trigger a cascade of bankruptcies among subcontractors and mass layoffs, causing not only an economic crisis but serious social unrest.
That was precisely why the Blue House and the government often stepped in, even pouring in taxpayer money to bail companies out. This gave rise to the saying, "Too big to fail."
"The Blue House probably wanted to avoid Hanbo Steel's bankruptcy," Gil Seongho explained.
"But with mounting criticism from the opposition about preferential treatment for a company drowning in debt—especially now that rumors are surfacing about influential ruling party figures and even the president's son being involved behind the scenes—they've apparently decided not to intervene."
President Park Jin-hyung gave a heavy nod.
"With the political chaos from the hasty OECD membership approval, the government can't risk handing more ammunition to the opposition. So they've decided to just wash their hands of it."
"Exactly. Chairman Choi was banking on a bailout, but he overplayed his hand. Thought he could stare them down, but ended up trapping himself instead."
Chairman Park Tae-hong let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head with a cynical expression.
"Unbelievable. Hanbo Steel actually went under—just like Seok-won warned."
Muttering with a complicated expression, he nodded, clearly relieved.
"Good thing, too. If not for that boy, we might've gotten swept up in the mess ourselves."
"That's right. We followed his advice and converted all our short-term loans into long-term ones just in time. If we hadn't, we would've been in serious trouble once liquidity dried up in the market."
Now that a top-tier conglomerate had defaulted on nearly 5 trillion won in loans, it was all but certain that the flow of capital would freeze for a while.
"On top of that, with the exchange rate rising, we gained foreign exchange profits from converting dollars in advance. So we've actually come out ahead."
Chairman Park let out a small, satisfied smile as he puffed on his cigarette.
"He's my son, but I have to admit—his insight into market trends is truly remarkable."
"Absolutely. From the Mido Department Store incident to this... If it weren't for Seok-won, we would've taken a serious hit."
Despite the constant praise, there was no trace of envy in President Park Jin-hyung's voice.
If anything, he sounded proud of his younger brother's accomplishments.
"You're right."
Chairman Park nodded again, but his expression turned serious.
"Thanks to him, we've managed to weather this immediate storm. But what lies ahead might be worse."
Chief Secretary Gil spoke up, voicing concern for the economy.
"The economy was already sluggish. Now with Hanbo Steel's collapse, consumer sentiment could shrink even further."
"That's how it works. In tough times, people tighten their belts."
With consumer spending likely to drop, their core affiliate and primary cash cow, Mido Department Store, was bound to see sales decline.
Chairman Park felt a cold chill run down his spine as he imagined the scenario: if he had ignored Seok-won's advice and resumed expanding their factories in China, increasing their investment, the group could have been plunged into a liquidity crisis.
The entire conglomerate might have been shaken to its core.
'He saved me and this group once again.'
Reinforced in his trust and belief in Seok-won, Chairman Park turned to his elder son and the chief secretary, wearing a solemn, determined expression.
"I'm sure you all understand the kind of shockwaves Hanbo Steel's bankruptcy will send. So from this point forward, I want us to assume the worst. Tighten the reins on spending, and make securing cash our top priority."
"Yes, sir."
"Understood."
Following President Park Jin-hyung, Chief Secretary Gil Seongho also promptly voiced his agreement.
'Let's hope this all ends with just the Hanbo Group…'
Chairman Park Tae-hong brought the cigarette to his lips and silently offered up a prayer—but the storm clouds looming on the horizon were far too thick and ominous for such hopes to hold.
***
Late into the night.
In a spacious penthouse bedroom, Seok-won lay fast asleep, one arm draped over a tall, fair-skinned brunette whose bare back was illuminated softly in the moonlight.
Suddenly, the silence of the early morning was pierced by the sharp ring of a cellphone. Seok-won stirred awake, and Debra beside him turned over, wrapping herself tighter in the blanket.
"Mmm…"
While gently patting Debra's back as she burrowed closer, Seok-won reached out with his other hand to grab the phone.
"Who is it at this hour…?" Debra murmured sleepily.
"It's nothing. Go back to sleep," Seok-won whispered softly, planting a kiss on her forehead before sitting up.
With the warmth beside her gone, Debra furrowed her brows slightly, but soon slipped back into a peaceful slumber, her breath evening out.
Seok-won threw on a robe that was draped over a chair and stepped out of the bedroom to answer the call.
"Hello?"
[It's me, sir.]
The voice of Lee Cheol-gyun came through, unusually stiff and cold. Recognizing something serious had happened, Seok-won walked slowly toward the terrace window in his slippers.
"What is it at this hour?"
[I had to contact you immediately. Something urgent just happened.]
Sensing the gravity in his voice, Seok-won adjusted the phone in his hand and asked,
"What is it?"
[Just now, Hanbo Steel failed to pay a 1.5 billion won promissory note that came due at the Samsung-dong branch of Borim Bank. This marks their first official default.]
"...!"
[There are about 60 billion won worth of promissory notes maturing today across 18 other creditor banks. Judging by how things are unfolding, it's likely they'll all go unpaid before the day is over.]
The feared crisis had finally erupted. Seok-won's expression hardened as he asked,
"How are the Blue House and the creditors responding?"
[Talks of freezing debt and moving into court receivership are surfacing as they try to prevent a chain reaction of subcontractor bankruptcies. From the looks of it, they've decided to let Hanbo Steel go under without a bailout.]
"If they had any intention of saving Hanbo, they would never have allowed the first default to happen. Makes sense."
[The real concern is that Hanbo Steel's collapse could trigger defaults among other group affiliates that had provided loan guarantees. Word is that as soon as news broke, the price of Hanbo Group promissory notes in the Myeongdong private loan market dropped to worthless scraps.]
Gazing out over the dark expanse of Central Park beyond the tall glass window, Seok-won responded in a low voice,
"Of course. No one wants to touch Hanbo paper when it's clear they won't get paid. Looks like Chairman Choi's luck has finally run out."
[Are you saying Hanbo Group is finished for good?]
"The steel division made up the bulk of the group's assets, and they're buried under trillions in loans. There's no way they'll survive this."
His tone left no room for doubt, and Lee Cheol-gyun silently acknowledged that Chairman Choi Byung-moo and the Hanbo Group's chances of recovery were slim.
"Keep a close watch and report to me constantly on how this unfolds."
[Understood.]
After ending the call, Seok-won stood quietly in front of the window, staring into the darkened city below. Then, in a whisper just above a breath, he muttered:
"Now it begins."