Seok-won, who had been seated at his desk, straightened his posture when he saw Director Choi Ho-geun entering through the door opened by Na Seong-mi, dressed in a gray suit.
"Welcome."
Director Choi Ho-geun approached and respectfully extended the approval folder he was holding.
"The sale of the stocks we accumulated during the last crash, including defense shares, has been completed."
As Seok-won accepted the folder and examined the report inside, Director Choi Ho-geun added further explanation.
"The defense stock investments yielded a 42% return, generating 155.4 billion won in profit. In addition, we earned 131.25 billion won from other holdings, ultimately securing a final return rate of 17.5%."
Director Choi Ho-geun looked at him with eyes filled with admiration.
"As soon as we completed the full liquidation as instructed, the government announced it would push to resume the seventh inter-Korean ministerial talks. The defense stock prices, which had been soaring, immediately reversed and plunged sharply."
"I heard about it as well. They say working-level representatives from both Koreas will meet first next week."
After reviewing everything, Seok-won leaned back against his chair and spoke.
"Yes. If our timing on the sales had been even slightly off, the return rate could have dropped significantly."
Director Choi Ho-geun let out repeated exclamations, clearly impressed.
"It turned out exactly as you predicted, Chairman."
"With the presidential election approaching, the ruling party in the government couldn't afford prolonged tension. And if inter-Korean economic cooperation—including the Mount Geumgang tourism project—were to be suspended, the North would also suffer a massive financial blow. Neither side can maintain a heightened standoff for long. If you know how to read political currents, it's something you can anticipate."
"That may be true, but with an actual armed clash involving exchanged gunfire—and with such large sums invested—it wouldn't be easy for anyone to make a calm judgment and decisive call like you did, Chairman."
This was not mere flattery meant to curry favor with Seok-won as the group's owner.
In a situation where delaying the sale might have earned tens or even hundreds of billions more, overcoming that temptation and acting with cold rationality was not something just anyone could do.
In fact, even Director Choi Ho-geun—who had carried out the defense stock sales under Seok-won's instructions—had felt uneasy, wondering if they were selling too early amid such a strong upward surge.
'Even veteran traders who've spent decades in Yeouido find that the hardest part is knowing when to sell.'
If you sold too early, you would regret it while watching the price climb higher. But if you grew greedy and missed the timing, you would often end up watching most of your profits evaporate.
There was even a saying that the most important—and most difficult—part of stock trading was knowing when to cut losses and when to sell.
Yet Seok-won never hesitated when it came to such difficult decisions. He executed the sales boldly and without delay.
'What's truly astonishing is that not once has the Chairman's selling timing ever been off.'
Looking back, every time Seok-won gave the order to sell had been the optimal moment to secure the highest possible returns.
Each time, Director Choi Ho-geun found himself unable to suppress his admiration for Seok-won's remarkable insight and judgment—and this time was no different.
'Well, with abilities like that, it's no wonder he was called the Midas touch on Wall Street and rose to the ranks of the world's wealthiest at such a young age.'
When Seok-won had first joined Daehung Securities, Director Choi had inwardly frowned, thinking some immature third-generation chaebol heir had parachuted in, and had secretly prayed that he wouldn't cause any trouble. Recalling that now, he felt a brief flash of embarrassment.
He hadn't been a burdensome liability at all—he had been walking gold, and no one had realized it.
Looking at Seok-won seated before him, Director Choi Ho-geun continued speaking.
"As you instructed, once the return exceeded 15%, we began selling the stocks we had acquired during the crash. The easing of inter-Korean tensions at just the right moment acted as a favorable factor, so even with our large-scale sell-off, the upward trend didn't break. Thanks to that, we were able to unload the entire volume without sacrificing our returns."
"The timing aligned perfectly."
"Yes, it did."
"As I mentioned before, we'll be holding the remaining positions for the long term, so keep that in mind when managing them."
"Yes, understood."
When Seok-won closed the approval folder and handed it back, Director Choi Ho-geun bowed his head.
"Then I'll take my leave."
"Wait a moment. I have something to give you."
Then Seok-won opened a drawer and took out two thin envelopes.
"Take them."
Caught off guard, Director Choi Ho-geun accepted the envelopes and looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"This is…?"
"There will be a separate performance bonus, but this is something I'm giving you personally. Use the money in the other envelope to take the staff somewhere nice for a team dinner."
Taken aback by the unexpected gesture, Director Choi bowed deeply.
"Thank you. I'll work even harder."
"I trust that you will."
Seok-won nodded as well, a faint smile on his face.
Of course, receiving a bonus was gratifying—but more than that, what truly pleased him was the fact that Seok-won, the owner himself, trusted and believed in him.
In high spirits after the praise, Director Choi Ho-geun left the chairman's office and walked down the corridor toward the elevator. A sudden curiosity struck him, and he casually glanced around.
After confirming that no one was in the hallway, he slipped the envelope he had just received from Seok-won out of his inner pocket.
"Since it's thin, it must be a check."
With anticipation written across his face, he carefully opened it. As expected, inside the envelope meant for the team dinner were twenty-five one-million-won checks.
"He must have put them in like this so we'd use five for the dinner and distribute the rest among the staff."
A bonus of one million won per person—there was no doubt the employees would be thrilled.
After slipping the checks back into the envelope, Director Choi Ho-geun opened the other envelope, the one meant for himself.
Unlike the first, there was only a single check inside.
He took it out and checked the amount. In that instant, he let out a sharp gasp and his eyes flew wide open.
"Uh?! I-Is this correct?"
Wondering if he had misread the number, he checked again—but what he had seen the first time was correct.
[￦ 100,000,000 (One hundred million won)]
He had received larger sums as performance bonuses before, but this carried greater meaning because it was a personal bonus handed to him directly by Seok-won.
Director Choi Ho-geun was startled at first, then his shoulders began to shake with overwhelming gratitude.
"To give such a large sum as a bonus. The Chairman really is generous."
Just then, a thought flashed through his mind.
"Wait. Since this was given personally by the Chairman, they won't know about it at home, right?"
Unlike performance bonuses that were deposited into his bank account along with a pay statement, this had been handed to him directly as a check. Unless he mentioned it, there was no way his wife would find out.
Realizing that he now had an emergency fund of a full 100 million won that he could keep hidden from his wife, the corners of Director Choi's mouth curled upward dramatically.
"Heh heh heh."
Quickly slipping the check back into the envelope and tucking it away carefully, Director Choi Ho-geun made his way toward the office.
His noticeably lighter steps—and the soft tune he found himself humming—spoke volumes about his uplifted mood.
***
Meanwhile, after Director Choi Ho-geun left, Seok-won found himself alone and began reviewing another report laid out on his desk.
When his phone vibrated, he picked it up, checked the name displayed on the screen, and answered the call.
[It's me, Boss.]
At the sound of Landon's voice from Dhahran, Saudi Arabia, Seok-won leaned back against his chair and spoke.
"I was just about to call you myself. How did the meeting with Sheikh Sabah, Chairman of Aramco, go?"
[To give you the conclusion first, Aramco has no intention of selling its stake in Korea SA Oil. They say the acquisition is part of a long-term project—not merely to extract crude oil, but to develop into a comprehensive energy company covering refining and distribution as well.]
Seok-won frowned slightly at the unexpected answer.
"So, like the way they established a refinery in partnership with Texaco and Shell, they could move to fully acquire SA Oil."
[That's correct. Although there was an unfortunate incident involving stock price manipulation and accounting fraud, they said they have no intention of selling their stake because of it.]
In fact, even before his regression, Aramco had steadily increased its holdings and eventually incorporated the company as a full subsidiary. Knowing that, Seok-won could not hide his disappointment.
[And although the stock price has indeed fallen significantly, they don't seem particularly concerned about it.]
Holding the phone to his ear, Seok-won responded.
"Considering they have oil dollars overflowing from their pockets, they're hardly going to panic over a minor investment loss."
Although international oil prices had fallen considerably, Aramco continued to generate astronomical net profits each year. With overwhelmingly low production costs and exclusive control over Saudi Arabia's vast oil and gas reserves, its position was unshakable.
'So even if SA Oil's stock price were to fall by half—or even further—they wouldn't bat an eye.'
In fact, they might even view it as an opportunity, just as he did, and quietly sweep up the sharply fallen shares at bargain prices.
'It's a company that could generate enormous profits if international oil prices surge in the future. But even so, it's not worth getting greedy enough to risk creating an uncomfortable relationship with Aramco—or rather, with the Saudi royal family.'
Even if it wasn't SA Oil, he could acquire or buy stakes in other oil companies and reap ample profits from a future surge in international oil prices.
Clicking his tongue in mild regret, Seok-won was just about to tell Landon to give up and withdraw if there was no intention of selling the stake when Landon continued.
[However, they say that if we agree to one condition, they're willing to transfer their entire stake in SA Oil through a block deal.]
A moment ago, it had seemed they would never sell, and now they were setting terms. Seok-won narrowed his eyes slightly as he asked,
"What do they want?"
[They want to entrust a portion of the royal family's assets to our fund—more precisely, to you, Boss.]
"...!"
[If you agree to that, they said they would sell their SA Oil stake.]
Taken completely off guard by the unexpected proposal, Seok-won adjusted his grip on the phone and spoke.
"So, you're saying they want to transfer their 35% stake in SA Oil in exchange for entrusting a portion of the royal family's assets to me?"
[That's correct. Of course, it wouldn't be free—they said they're willing to pay whatever management fee percentage you require.]
Seok-won let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"I truly didn't expect them to attach terms like this."
[I was taken aback when I first heard it as well. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized the Saudi royal family played this very cleverly.]
"What do you mean by that?"
[If a fund achieves an average annual return of just over 20%, it's considered extraordinary on Wall Street, isn't it? But we've been consistently delivering returns several times higher without a single investment failure. Naturally, they would want to entrust their money to us as well.]
On Wall Street, the name of the Eldorado Fund was both an object of envy and a symbol of awe.
[But aside from the blind fund raised under the names of Daehung Group and you, Boss, we haven't accepted any outside capital. So they've probably just been watching from the sidelines, licking their lips—until now, when they see this as a golden opportunity.]
From the other end of the line, Landon let out a low chuckle.
[If I were the King of Saudi Arabia, I'd think the same way. Trading the SA Oil stake in exchange for entrusting funds to you, Boss, would be far more profitable in the long run.]
It wasn't wrong, and Seok-won allowed himself a faint smile.
[If we were still managing only your personal capital, it might be a different story. But since we're already handling entrusted funds, I think it wouldn't be a bad idea to use this opportunity to establish an amicable relationship with the Saudi royal family—even if it's not specifically about the SA Oil stake.]
Landon seemed to view the royal family's proposal quite positively.
"Hmm…"
Gently stroking his clean-shaven chin with one hand, Seok-won fell into brief contemplation. He had to admit that Landon's point made sense.
"How much are they looking to entrust?"
[Five billion dollars.]
As expected from those holding vast oil wealth, even the scale of the money they proposed was on a different level.
"Very well. Tell them we'll accept the funds—on the condition of a 40% target return and a 10–50 fee structure."
[A 10% management fee and 50% performance fee. That's a structure no other fund could possibly propose. But for you, Boss, that level is only natural.]
Compared to the typical private equity arrangement—where funds charge a 1–2% management fee and take 20% of profits exceeding the agreed return under a 2–20 structure—it was an extraordinarily high fee.
"Discuss it with them and get back to me once there's a result."
[Understood.]
After ending the call, Seok-won set his phone down and leaned back leisurely in his chair.
"If they truly want to entrust their money to me, they'll accept the terms. And even if they refuse, it's not as though I have anything to regret."