novelraw Chapter 70 : I’ll Steadily Help You Along That Path
Chapter 70 : I’ll Steadily Help You Along That Path
Chapter 70: I’ll Steadily Help You Along That Path
“Did something happen, Branch Manager?”
At my question, the branch manager’s face darkened even further.
“……It’s been confirmed that, just before the emergency financial measures were enforced, most of the funds were withdrawn from the account.”
“I’m aware of that. But there should’ve been around two million hwan left.”
“Yes……. That’s correct. To be precise, 2,111,320 hwan remain.”
“That’s not too far off from my estimate.”
When I bought dollars, gold bars, artwork, and antiques, I settled all of it using checks connected to my accounts.
Of course, to diversify the risk, I used several borrowed-name accounts, so this particular passbook would only have held a portion of the funds used for real estate and art purchases.
“And according to government directives, 80% of the funds in this account are scheduled to be frozen.”
“Eighty percent?”
Feigning surprise, I asked again, and the branch manager lowered his head apologetically.
“Yes……. I’m truly sorry. It’s a mandatory government order, so there’s nothing our bank can do to make exceptions.”
“So the freezing ratio varies depending on the amount.”
“That’s correct. Technically, all accounts will be frozen, but we’ve received internal instructions that starting next week, small accounts will have their freezes lifted gradually.”
What he just said was insider information that ordinary people could never know.
“And…… the more important matter is that you, Mr. Baek, have been designated as a subject of in-depth investigation by the Joint Investigation Unit.”
“A subject of in-depth investigation by the Joint Investigation Unit? What exactly does that mean?”
“They’ll likely be conducting a thorough investigation into the source of this large sum of money.”
“Well…… I anticipated as much.”
At my calm reply, the branch manager grew even more restless.
“Someone from the Joint Investigation Unit will be here soon. They’ll request that you accompany them.”
“Hmm……. Will the investigation be conducted here in Busan, not in Seoul?”
“Yes. It appears this situation arose because we requested a balance inquiry on your account from the Seoul head office. I truly…… truly apologize.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, Branch Manager. I was the one who asked for the verification.”
“Still, because of us……”
The branch manager’s expression was nearly on the verge of tears. Seeing that further talk would only bring meaningless apologies, I looked at the papers in his hand and asked,
“Then, what are those documents?”
“Ah……. These are…….”
Hesitantly, he handed them to me.
I opened the envelope. Inside were detailed records of the remaining balance and transaction history of my Seoul account.
‘Right, this was before telex or fax machines were in regular use.’
Judging by the handwriting, it seemed someone at the Seoul head office had dictated the details over the phone while someone here jotted them down by hand.
I slid the papers back into the envelope and asked,
“Would it be possible to know the government’s exact guidelines?”
“Pardon?”
“It seems the freezing and investigations are differentiated by amount…… I’d like to know the specific criteria.”
The branch manager swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable.
No fish would bite if the baitless hook kept swinging. I decided to put something tempting on the line.
“Branch Manager, you’re not from Busan, are you?”
At my sudden question, he looked at me in puzzlement.
“From your tone and accent, you sound like someone from Seoul. Am I right?”
“Yes, that’s right. But why do you ask?”
“Someday, you’ll be going back to Seoul—to the head office, correct?”
“Well, I suppose so……?”
“Wherever you may be, I intend to use your bank as my main bank from now on.”
The branch manager’s eyes widened to twice their size. That was, in fact, why he had been so deferential to me from the beginning.
After seeing the staggering amount printed in my passbook, he must have decided that I was a VVIP customer he couldn’t afford to lose.
And sure enough, at my words, his expression brightened.
“Are you serious, Mr. Baek?”
“Would I say something like that without meaning it, Branch Manager? Someday, you’ll be the president of the head office. I’ll make sure to help you firmly along that path.”
“Mm, even so, these are top-secret government directives……”
Even with such a large piece of bait dangled before him, the branch manager still hesitated. His gaze wavered fiercely between opportunity and risk.
“Well, no one can predict the future. But tell me, Branch Manager—did you know?”
Yet, the very fact that he wavered meant I had a chance. I continued in a low voice.
“Only a year ago, I was living under the Cheongnyangni Bridge, in a beggars’ den.”
“What? What do you mean…….”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it? That someone like that managed to amass such wealth in just a year.”
The branch manager glanced between my face and my passbook. The numbers recorded there were indeed in the tens of millions of hwan.
For someone holding such a passbook to have been a beggar just a year ago—it was something beyond his comprehension.
“I was just a bit lucky.”
I gave him a gentle smile, as if to show I understood what he was thinking.
“But you know, right? Luck rubs off on those who stay close to the lucky ones. Branch Manager, share my luck with me. I gathered this much wealth in a single year. Can you imagine what I’ll be like two, three, ten years from now?”
“…….”
“Of course, I might not make it through the Joint Investigation Unit’s inspection unscathed.”
My last words rippled through his heart like a stone thrown into a still lake.
After a long silence, the branch manager finally stood up, as if making a decision.
“Oh dear, I just remembered something important. Please wait here for a moment.”
He rose quickly and walked over to his desk.
Pretending to search through a file, he then took out a blank piece of stationery and casually set it down on the table.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he hurried out of the office.
The moment he was gone, I picked up the sheet of paper. On the back, scrawled hastily, were the government’s secret directives.
[Guidelines for Account Freezing and Investigation Related to Emergency Financial Measures]
Under 100,000 hwan: No freeze.
Under 500,000 hwan: 20% freeze.
Under 2,000,000 hwan: 40% freeze.
Under 10,000,000 hwan: 60% freeze.
Under 50,000,000 hwan: 80% freeze (subject to in-depth Joint Investigation).
Over 100,000,000 hwan: 90% or higher freeze and full-scale investigation.
My Seoul account balance was 2,111,000 hwan—squarely placing me in the “subject of in-depth Joint Investigation” category.
There were also other directives issued by the government listed below.
I quietly folded the note and slipped it into my pocket. The contents didn’t differ much from what I already knew, but confirming the exact monetary brackets was a significant gain.
‘I’d better divide everything into sums under five hundred thousand hwan whenever possible.’
This information would be very useful later when I exchanged money in Chinatown. I waited for the branch manager as if nothing had happened, sipping fragrant black tea.
Not long after, the branch manager’s office door opened with a knock. But he was not alone.
Two men in suits followed behind him.
One was a kindly-looking man wearing glasses, and the other gave off a chilling presence from his rigid posture.
Seeing the two men’s discordant atmospheres, I knew at once.
‘A joint investigation unit of the financial authorities and the police.’
Then the man in front asked in a low voice.
“Are you Baek Min-woo?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“We belong to the Busan Joint Investigation Headquarters. Under the Emergency Financial Measures Act, we need to investigate the source of your funds, Mr. Baek Min-woo. Please come with us.”
The branch manager looked at me apologetically as if he had no choice, but I rose from my seat without any resistance.
The two men flanked me as if escorting a detainee. This did not look good.
“Wait a moment. Before we go, may I take the passbook I opened earlier and the money I found with me?”
I pointed to the passbook and the small envelope containing 500 hwan that the teller had been holding. The investigators exchanged glances for a moment, then nodded.
I picked up the passbook and naturally escaped the appearance of being arrested. I followed the investigators out of the bank.
Outside, a black Jeep was waiting for us. Before getting in, I took one last look at the chaotic streets of Busan’s Jungang-dong.
Though the soldiers’ strict control prevented any outward commotion, the faces of the long lines of people were covered by a darkness of deep despair and anger.
The Jeep laboriously climbed the steep hill toward Daecheong-dong across the heart of Busan.
Finally, the car stopped in front of an old government building that gave off a worn, authoritative air.
We entered through the back gate. After passing a creaking corridor and reaching the far end of the third floor, an old wooden door appeared.
A crooked sign painted in red read “Joint Operations Room.”
When an investigator opened the door, the office inside was revealed, filled with cigarette smoke that formed a thin fog under the ceiling lights.
The air was stale, and a tense atmosphere was created by low voices, the rustling of papers, and the intermittent buzzes of radio transmissions.
“Hey, Detective Kim! Is the flow of funds from that old Baek over by Choryang still far off? Hurry up and hand it over before the higher-ups give us hell!”
“We’re on it now! But the handwriting’s all the same, sir!”
A large map of Busan was pinned to the wall.
Major routes linking Nampo-dong, Jungang-dong, Choryang, and Dongnae were tangled in red lines.
Especially around the North Port and Gamcheon Port areas, red pins were densely stuck in—indicating something. On another wall, a telegraph board hung in vertical strips.
This hastily assembled battlefield—the Joint Investigation Headquarters—had been set up to contain the chaos of the currency reform and to trace underground funds.
The investigator who had brought me approached a man standing inside and reported. He appeared to be the head of the investigation division.
In his mid-forties, he held the edge of a large rolled map with a clip and tapped anxiously with his finger along the red line from Jungang-dong to the North Port.
Just then, a man who seemed to be an intelligence officer in his early thirties entered with a bundle of telegraph copies and spread copies of ledgers on the table.
“Sir, confirmed! There are multiple deposits made simultaneously at several branches. They all seem to be borrowed-name accounts.”
“Borrowed-name? Damn, these bastards were determined. Send investigators immediately and drag them in. If they resist, arrest them.”
“Yes!”
The head of the investigation continued giving orders after listening to his subordinates’ reports. Then at last he turned his head toward me.
“Take this man to an inner room.”
At his order, the investigator who had brought me led me across the noisy office to a small door at the very back.
When we opened the door and entered, a heavy, cold air greeted me—completely different from the chaos outside.
It was a temporarily prepared separate interrogation room.
Three men sat in the smoky air, waiting for us.
The man in the center asked me a question. His voice was cold and dry.
“Are you Baek Min-woo?”
“Yes. I am Baek Min-woo.”
The investigator who had brought me politely handed over the documents the bank had provided.
“Thank you for your trouble. You may go now.”
The investigator bowed and quietly closed the door as he left.
“Please sit down, Mr. Baek Min-woo.”
The man motioned as he took the papers out of the envelope.
After I sat, the man in the center spoke first.
“I am Kim Jeong-hyun, an official of the Ministry of Finance.”
The expression in his eyes beyond the horn-rimmed glasses held no emotion.
Then the kindly-looking man on the left introduced himself.
“I am Choi Dong-won, manager at the Bank of Korea.”
Finally, the man on the right who had been staring at me said briefly,
“I am Park Sang-chul, an investigator from the Banking Supervisory Service Investigation Team.”
After the three introductions, they did not say anything more to me.
They silently began comparing the documents taken from the bank with another file placed before them.
I felt like an invisible man.
Only the rustle of pages and their low breaths split the heavy silence.
After what felt like a long time, Kim Jeong-hyun put down the papers and spoke.
“Mr. Baek Min-woo.”
“Yes.”
“It hasn’t been long since you filed your domicile registration, has it?”
“No.”
“Until then, you were a person who didn’t exist anywhere in the Republic of Korea. As if you had suddenly fallen from the sky.”
“…….”
“Coincidentally, the place where you registered your domicile exactly matches the home address of Yang Sobo, a major figure in the Chinese-Korean community.”
Kim Jeong-hyun’s voice remained steady, but each of his words tightened the noose around my throat.
He leaned forward slowly, then looked at me as if piercing me through and asked. The eyes behind his glasses were icy.
“Is this account perhaps a borrowed-name account for Yang Sobo? In other words, did you use the ghost of your identity to launder underground funds to evade the currency reform?”