Chapter 8
As he briefly revisited an old memory, he approached the window with his hands clasped behind his back, a troubled look clouding his face.
It had been exactly half a year since he'd handed over a stake in the Strategic Planning Division to Tae-ju.
Sometimes his son resembled him so eerily it gave him chills. Rational and meticulous. If Baek was the core, Tae-ju was the brain.
Despite receiving virtually no guidance, Tae-ju had shown a frightening pace of growth all on his own. Even his methods for managing affiliate performances and restructuring operations mirrored Baek's own to an uncanny degree. Affiliates run by people who had doted on him like a nephew since childhood weren't spared his scathing critiques—and were axed without mercy if needed.
Baek had given him that share hoping he'd learn to read the bigger picture. But Tae-ju had gone beyond mere reading; he'd figured out how to seize it and shake it himself.
And then there was the aggressive, barbaric hound of a second son. To Joo-heon, he'd tossed shares in new ventures and overseas investment affiliates. The idea was to let him cut his teeth in foreign markets that demanded ingenuity and bold ideas, rather than the stagnant domestic scene.
I'd see how he'd bulk up his own operations, Baek had thought—only to hear out of nowhere that Joo-heon had booked a flight to Las Vegas.
He'd assumed the pressure of competing with his brother had driven him to a stress-relief escape, some wild spree of indulgence and reckless spending. But the report from the staffer attached to him made Baek burst out laughing.
What Joo-heon had snagged wasn't a casino ledger. It was an exclusive license to TMG Resort's secret remittance network. Anyone who grasped what that meant would gasp in disbelief: How the hell?
Companies pursuing aggressive M&A like Hosung had to weather brutal bank scrutiny and sharp-eyed government oversight to move trillions in funds. A long money trail made lightning strikes like hostile takeovers impossible.
But Joo-heon's system was something else entirely. A covert superhighway letting tycoons worldwide swap cash without a trace—casinos, anywhere. And now it belonged to Hosung.
A way to rally funds scattered across the globe before the enemy even noticed, then plunge a dagger straight into their heart. Joo-heon had handed Hosung the ultimate secret supply line: infinite ammo for any battlefield, anytime, anywhere.
If elder brother Tae-ju was the noble king masterminding from behind castle walls, Joo-heon was the feral hound rampaging outside—severing enemy supply lines while blasting open paths for allies.
Joo-heon's haul was so massive that Baek had wondered if Tae-ju was falling behind by comparison. Then, at the most uncanny timing, word came that he was dating the Nobcore Korea branch president's niece, marriage on the horizon. Weaponizing that would be Tae-ju's declaration of all-out war. Both sons were advancing like a blaze through dry grass.
Baek's eyes, capturing the vibrant green outside, narrowed just a fraction. It was time to decide who would get the reins of real power.
***
Yoo Soo-hee's inauguration—broadcast live via U.S. and domestic networks, plus online video platforms—wrapped up triumphantly.
It was a flawless event that captivated the early investors who'd spotted Nobcore's potential and poured in big money, as well as the cautious ones still unsure about the Korean branch's direction.
After that night, invitations poured in from conglomerates and semiconductor giants. Asset-rich wives, aware of her influence and standing, moved fast to invite her into their social circles.
As Yoo Soo-hee cleared her backlog of meetings and business lists, she stumbled home every night in the small hours, reeking of booze. She'd been to spots treated with utmost deference, she said—yet her clothes were drenched in cigarette smoke and liquor fumes.
On the third day of it, having heard Ha-jin was headed to Wolsongwon, she finally summoned her. The glossy, lustrous wooden door loomed far taller than the average woman's height. Even the single entrance exuded ostentatious luxury anew, Ha-jin thought as she stood before it and knocked.
"Auntie, it's me."
"Come in."
Ha-jin stepped inside at the voice from beyond. The expansive floor-to-ceiling windows framed the riverside and high-rises like a single masterpiece painting, with every curtain drawn back to let in eye-stinging natural light.
Yoo Soo-hee usually shunned sunlight like the plague—deathly afraid of sunburns, age spots, or wrinkles—but what gives? Then Ha-jin noticed: pricey potted plants, gifts no doubt, lined up precisely at the sunniest spot by the window.
"Over here."
Yoo Soo-hee was in the bedroom tucked deeper past an archway. Chin propped on the tea table, eyes shut, she flicked her jaw at Ha-jin in a sit-down gesture.
Her disheveled state and the lingering haze of booze and smokes had vanished clean. She was her usual self again: rigidly impeccable, devoid of any human warmth. Only a faint crease between her brows hinted at the hangover still clinging.
"Want me to mix some honey water?"
"No."
She waved it off briskly, then poured chamomile tea from the finely cut glass teapot into a cup.
"Tea?"
"Yes, just one, please."
After setting a cup in front of Ha-jin, Yoo Soo-hee rose and fished a small USB drive from the bedside table drawer, sliding it across the table. Ha-jin eyed it curiously, and Yoo Soo-hee massaged her temples slowly with two fingers.
"Heard you're going to Wolsongwon."
"Yes."
"Faster than I expected."
She muttered it like to herself, paused in thought, then spoke.
"All this hassle so far has been for that anyway. Just... sooner than I'd planned for you to step into that house."
She tapped the table lightly with her fingertips. Tap, tap.
"The file inside? Basic rundown on the Baek Chairman's family. Straight from Vice President Baek, so no doubts on authenticity."
"Yes. Thank you."
"Should've handed it over sooner, but... you know how suspicious Vice President Baek is."
Who could blame him? Still, it irked her faintly. Baek Tae-ju was the one who'd dragged her into this game to begin with.
"He insisted on waiting till every check on your suitability cleared. Made sense—it's direct family intel, after all."
"..."
"You need to know everyone at Wolsongwon cold. Better than anyone. Memorize it front to back before you go in—one word, and you spit out every detail on cue."
Gazing down at the tiny USB terminal, an odd sensation bubbled up inside her.
She'd have to enter that house someday. Everything had been prepped for it, perfectly aligned. But still... her throat went dry with nerves. Ha-jin clenched the small, cold device in her fist to steady her trembling hand.
It felt like she'd finally taken that first step into the prelude of something momentous.
Baek Tae-ju's call came right after Ha-jin wrapped up about an hour of free-talk video with her native English tutor. She was still deep in her lessons.
Languages atrophied if unused or limited to fringe phrases, so she rotated biweekly free-talk sessions or in-person classes with three native speakers.