Chapter 12

The Dangerous Intern's Presentation (2)

This time, the situation was completely reversed.

The interns who had come to give presentations were whispering among themselves, while President Choi and every executive and department head sat frozen, mouths hanging open.

Of course, some department heads had never been connected to the companies Kang had mentioned.

They had no idea why the executives were reacting this way.

But they had survived more than a decade in corporate life through sheer intuition.

So they wisely kept their mouths shut and watched.

Even the HR manager, who was supposed to be moderating the presentation, forgot that he needed to conclude the session. He was too busy reading the room.

The icy atmosphere suffocated everyone until President Choi finally stood.

"All executives, to my office."

With those words, the presentation was officially over.

As the executives hurried to their feet, President Choi added:

"Keep that bastard here. Send everyone else away."

He pointed directly at Kang.

"Yes, sir."

As people began filing out, the interns cautiously rose from their seats.

"Hey, what are you?"

"What did you do to make those executives react like that?"

The intern sitting beside Kang asked carefully.

Kang merely smiled.

"That's not something you kids need to worry about. Just go home. Now you wait for the company's call."

"Anyway, good work."

"I hope you pass."

At that moment, the HR manager walked over and tapped Kang on the shoulder.

"You come with me."

Then he addressed the other interns.

"Everyone else, return to your departments, say your farewells, and head home. Final acceptance notices will be sent out in one week. Thank you all for your hard work."

"Thank you!"

The interns bowed deeply.

But the manager barely acknowledged them.

Even after leaving the conference room, the interns couldn't bring themselves to leave.

Instead, they stared at the back of the strange intern being led away.

"What the hell is he?"

"Seriously... why were the executives acting like that?"

"Those companies he mentioned... weren't those all company names?"

Then someone finally voiced the thought everyone had been avoiding.

"Doesn't he have connections inside the Choi Sung Group?"

Whether he had connections wasn't the important part.

The conclusion implied by that possibility was.

No matter what happened, that guy was getting hired.

Nobody knew how many people would be recruited this year.

But one slot was clearly gone.

The realization left everyone depressed.

***

"Do you all hate me that much?"

"Sir?"

"Is it really that unbearable having me sitting in the CEO's chair?"

At President Choi's words, everyone nearly jumped out of their seats.

"Of course not, sir."

"What are you talking about, sir?"

"Then how does some intern bastard casually list those companies? Don't tell me executives of your level don't know exactly what those companies are."

The executives lowered their heads once more.

They were companies that existed mostly in name.

They had offices.

A handful of employees.

But their primary purpose was issuing tax invoices.

Middlemen inserted between manufacturing subsidiaries and Choi Sung Trading.

Companies that skimmed profits while contributing absolutely nothing.

Companies that could disappear tomorrow without affecting operations in the slightest.

In other words—

Companies used to create slush funds for the chairman's family.

There were four such companies connected to Choi Sung Trading alone.

Across the entire group, there were probably dozens.

The money siphoned through those companies easily exceeded 50 billion won annually.

Major subsidiaries like Trading, Chemical, and Construction each funneled more than 10 billion won every year.

Smaller subsidiaries contributed several billion more.

Everyone who mattered knew.

But nobody had ever imagined hearing those company names spoken so openly by an intern.

"If an intern knows, doesn't that mean everyone knows?" President Choi asked.

"Maybe even the female office workers know?"

"No, sir. Aside from a handful of employees in relevant departments, nobody knows."

"Then you're saying somebody with a loose mouth is talking? Somebody stupid enough to tell an intern?"

President Choi's specialty—grabbing onto a single phrase and beating people with it—had appeared.

Nobody dared speak again.

"What happens if that intern goes outside and reports this to the Fair Trade Commission?"

"Or leaks it to a few lawmakers?"

"They'll call this funneling work to the owner's family."

"No, worse. They'll say it's embezzlement through ghost companies."

"That's exactly what they'll say, isn't it?"

And an even more dangerous issue remained.

"Do you think prosecutors would arrest the chairman's family?"

"The Prosecutor General would probably call the chairman and ask him to hand over a sacrificial lamb."

"They'd label it personal misconduct or embezzlement, arrest someone, put them on trial..."

"Do you realize I could end up being that sacrificial lamb?"

The possibility wasn't unrealistic.

The CEO himself could end up arriving at the prosecutor's office in a wheelchair.

And that absolutely could not happen.

Sending one CEO to jail wouldn't end it.

At minimum, every executive in this room would become unemployed.

President Choi glared at Director Kim.

"Hey! Kim Jaehyun!"

"Yes, sir."

"That was the guy who ran into the chairman, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you said he was a bit slow, so he spent his internship bouncing around support departments?"

"That's correct, sir."

"Then this is your responsibility."

Kim felt like crying.

The kid's practical skills were worse than a first-year college student.

But he'd always seemed unusually sharp when it came to instincts.

Kim had assumed that even if his practical abilities were weak, that intuition alone would eventually make him useful.

Who would've thought he'd detonate a bomb like this?

Kim was sweating profusely when Executive Director Song finally spoke.

"Sir."

"Yes?"

"Very few employees in the Support Division know about those companies. Only department heads in Finance and Treasury would be aware."

Song was openly revealing himself as an ally.

He was helping Kim out of a difficult situation.

"Perhaps it would be better to bring the intern in and confirm things directly. Speculation could lead us to the wrong conclusions."

President Choi's expression changed.

"Executive Director Song."

"Yes, sir."

"Do you think I don't know that's the simplest solution?"

Song immediately lowered his head again.

The disappointment in Choi's eyes felt like a knife to the chest.

"If you're going to interrogate someone, you need something in your hand first."

"Not necessarily hard evidence, but at least circumstantial evidence."

"What are a room full of executives supposed to say to an intern if we know nothing?"

"'How did you learn about those companies? Please tell us?'"

"You want us to look that pathetic?"

"My apologies, sir."

After rubbing his forehead, President Choi addressed the room.

"Check every related department."

"Find out where the leak occurred."

"Find out who talked."

"And if nobody talked, then that intern must have seen something."

"Review all document security procedures and report back."

"Now get out."

The executives rushed out.

Left alone, President Choi lit a cigarette.

Only one thought remained in his mind.

Why him?

The person who had sent the chairman to the hospital.

And the person who knew exactly which companies the chairman's family used as financial siphons.

They were the same person.

Could that really be a coincidence?

***

"So..."

"You knew exactly what you were talking about, didn't you?"

Director Kim's question made Kang sigh.

Did he think Kang had spoken without knowing?

What kind of pointless question was that?

Then again, there wasn't much else Kim could ask.

The next question was obvious.

"How did you find out?"

Exactly as expected.

How?

Because those reports came across his desk every month.

The siphon companies attached to Choi Sung Trading and the various subsidiaries.

Their revenues appeared in monthly reports.

Money that filled private pockets.

Money that was distributed wherever influence needed to be bought.

Of course, those weren't the only channels used to create slush funds.

But he couldn't exactly say:

"I know because I used to read the reports as chairman."

So he improvised.

"Remember when we looked into the outsourced inventory issue?"

"The cliff-edge thing?"

"Yes."

"One of the vendors caught my attention because it had absolutely no inventory."

"A trading company with no inventory at all seemed very strange."

"Especially since they weren't manufacturers."

"And then?"

"When I checked the products they handled, every single one was from our subsidiaries."

"That's when things started feeling suspicious."

Kim realized he'd been right.

This little bastard really does have terrifying instincts.

He traced the chairman's siphon companies through inventory discrepancies alone?

As an intern?

"Then I looked at the transaction volumes."

"And those numbers were enormous."

"You know what those companies really are?"

Kang knew perfectly well.

But pretending ignorance was safer.

"Does that matter?"

"If we remove those middlemen and deal directly with the subsidiaries, we'd save billions."

"That's why you said what you did during the presentation?"

"That's all?"

Still pretending.

"Should there be something else?"

Kim was convinced the kid knew more than he admitted.

"That's really all?"

"Maybe there's more to learn. But for a presentation, that's enough, isn't it?"

Kim clearly didn't believe him.

Still, the explanation sounded plausible enough.

"Then why didn't you report it earlier?"

"If they've been doing business that way for years, who exactly would I report it to?"

"If everyone already knows, then hiding it becomes impossible."

"And then there's an opportunity to fix it."

"So you're saying it looked corrupt?"

"Anyone would think it's corruption."

Of course it was.

They were siphoning money into slush funds.

"Then you want to fix it?"

Kang almost laughed.

Is this guy still a child?

How could he be so clueless?

"Fix what?"

"It's an internal matter."

"I just thought management should know."

"If the president knows, and the other executives know, then it's not corruption."

"It's a company secret."

"And frankly, I don't care what private companies do."

"So you're not some crusader for justice?"

"Justice?"

"Does that word still exist?"

"You're more of a romantic than I expected, Director Kim."

That was Kang's honest opinion.

Hearing the word justice from a chaebol executive was absurd.

"You're getting disrespectful again."

"Watch your mouth."

Still, Kim felt relieved.

At least he had something he could report to President Choi.

Now all he needed was a proposal for improving document security.

"You can go home."

"And you'll get a call in a week."

"A successful one."

"Which means that one week from now, you'll officially become a new employee of Choi Sung Trading."

"A full-time employee."

A new employee at my own company...

How generous of them.

Kang forced out the difficult words.

"Thank you, Director Kim."

Now he was truly trapped.

A salaried employee.

A rookie office worker who would clock in and out exactly on time every day.

It felt strangely surreal.

Yet hearing that he'd passed instead of being rejected still made his heart race.

After all—

Becoming a full-time employee at a major corporation was still the dream of countless young Koreans.

Maybe he should celebrate a little.

What was that thing people did these days?

Ah, right.

Buy himself a gift.