It had been a few days since the game launched when Seo Ji-yeon came rushing up to me with a delighted scream.
"Yeah? How much did it sell?"
"Eh? What do you mean by that... Oh, no, I mean... Young lady, did you use my account? I got banned from NowNuri..."
Apparently, she couldn’t bring herself to ❀ ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) raise her voice at me, because she trailed off awkwardly after saying that.
‘Ah, so that was just a scream of frustration.’
I pushed Ji-yeon’s forehead back with my index finger.
"I just borrowed it a little. The ban will be lifted soon, so don’t worry."
After all, I held the purse strings on that community. They couldn’t do much to me. It’s way too profitable, influential, and, frankly, fun of a business for me to just leave it alone.
Seo Ji-yeon muttered resentfully.
"I mean, why my account of all things...? My name’s probably all over the activity log..."
Well, it’s not like I could go causing chaos under my official account. Still, it was exhilarating to blend in with the masses again. I’d missed that feeling.
Shame the platform didn’t support images or comments.
"Anyway, what’s the verdict on the game?"
Only then did Ji-yeon seem to remember. She fumbled through her bag and pulled out some documents.
I used to treat her like a kid, but now she was really starting to act like a proper secretary. Funny how time sneaks up on you.
The sales results for the game were decent.
The unfortunate part was the rampant piracy. Even after all my warnings and crackdowns, barely anyone was paying for the official release.
I suppose Windows 95 would be the same. I wasn’t too bothered since this wasn’t my main line of business, but if I’d actually founded a company focused on software, I’d be foaming at the mouth right now.
"Still, why do you insist on doing all these minor tasks yourself, young lady? You always say you hate the typical chaebol-style management, but you act like a textbook heiress. Well, actually... you're more like an executive than a socialite."
I answered Ji-yeon’s question casually.
"It’s a hobby. I’m not doing it for money. Well, not just a hobby, but either way, it’s not for direct profit."
As I’ve mentioned before, I have a lot of hobbies. Coffee, movies, games, school life, and...
The weather was nice and cool, perfect for enjoying a rare day off. I was visiting Myeongsil Department Store—my own property.
"Ah, welcome, young lady! I’ll escort you personally!"
Seeing the department store manager bowing deeply and treating me with such deference put me at ease. People had been getting a bit too casual around me lately.
Not that I minded that per se... but once in a while, I wanted to feel properly attended to.
With a smile that concealed my darker thoughts, I waved at the staff lined up in the distance, ready to welcome their rare-shopping heiress.
"Right, I’m here to get a new dress. Oh, and this guy’s getting a suit. Why are you just standing there? Move it."
I elbowed Kang Hyeon-cheol, the driver I brought with me. He stiffly stepped forward.
"Uh, young lady. I’m not really..."
"It’s fine. You’ve been with me longer than anyone besides Lee Si-hyun, right? You’ve been driving for me ever since she quit that job."
Technically, Seo Joo-eun would be the second-longest, but she was working for Yoo Seon-jun now. And drivers spent more time with me than most staff did.
He was also the one who drove me in silence when I had to clean up the fallout from Si-hyun’s betrayal. If you’ve been around that long, you deserve to be treated.
Watching the manager drag my driver away, I stretched my legs out.
Faster than words. Just what I’d expect from a store staffed only with elite employees. I fired all the useless ones long ago—no wonder they were efficient now.
"We also prepared a newspaper and some coffee. Shall I bring them?"
I accepted the coffee naturally and pulled a thick envelope stuffed with ten-thousand-won bills from my breast pocket—still no fifty-thousand-won notes in circulation.
The staff member bit his lip to hide his excitement like a professional and stepped back. Enjoying the feel of the plush footrest, I turned my attention to the newspaper.
Today’s headline was actually pretty significant, so I looked forward to soaking it in properly.
[Bank Law Amendment Passed in 1995... Bank-Industry Separation Act to Take Effect by Year-End]
[Emphasis on Separation of Finance and Industry... Chaebol-Owned Banks Under Scrutiny]
[Ongoing Controversy Over Shoddy Construction, Sampoong Construction Under Fire]
‘Bank-industry separation... Tch. Not my favorite, but still.’
It means manufacturers or service companies can’t own banks.
Oh? You’re asking the difference between separation of finance and industry versus separation of banking and industry?
Basically, the government originally planned to enforce full financial-industrial separation but decided that was too extreme, so they went with bank-industrial separation instead.
Surprisingly, the distinction is accurate: financial-industrial separation is the broader principle.
And this... is a major issue. It’s essentially antitrust law. Daehwa, Mirae, and a few other conglomerates all had to restructure because of it.
The bodyguard-secretary from Daehwa Securities glanced at the paper in my hand, referring to the fact that I owned both Daehwa Securities and Myeongsil Department Store.
"We’re fine. Securities firms aren’t banks. Non-bank financial institutions are exempt. The main house will probably have a rougher time, but... Uncle Hak-cheol will handle it."
For reference, Daehwa Investment Bank isn’t owned by me directly, so it’s also fine. Even though the law applies to unlisted firms, Korean regulation isn’t exactly airtight yet.
"And besides, it’s not all bad for us."
Preventing industrial capital from entering finance means putting a ceiling on how large the Korean financial sector can grow.
Normally that wouldn’t be a problem thanks to Korea’s closed corporate culture, but if those protections disappear, fragile banks will get eaten alive by foreign capital.
For the record, Alpha Fund, which I manage, is now considered a major U.S.-based global financial institution.
As I flipped through the paper, skimming the latest Korean developments, it was my turn to be served. I lifted my leg slightly.
I’d asked to see some casual home dresses, but there weren’t many options.
"Excuse me, young lady."
The sales assistant hesitated. The manager looked anxious too...
Annoyed, I asked sharply:
"Um... will this be acceptable?"
Hmph, so they do realize.
"Something about the quality seems off. I’m not imagining that, am I?"
"M-my deepest apologies, young lady!"
A middle-aged man dropped to his knees. It wasn’t a good look. I frowned and gestured with my chin.
"That’s enough. Get up. Just explain properly, alright?"
Aside from a few cousins who didn’t care about group affairs, every Daehwa Group executive knew one thing:
Yoo Ha-yeon, the youngest daughter, had an uncanny talent for generating wealth—and while she flung money around freely, she never tolerated waste by others.
Anyone who truly understood that wouldn’t dare squander my funds. Otherwise... well, they’d better retire.
I’d invested billions here.
"I see. So the excuse is that a competitor’s loss-leader pricing made it impossible to restock..."
Am I poor? The only things I don’t have are public reputation and certain anatomy.
...Wow, I’m missing quite a lot, huh?
I shook my head and sighed deeply.
"Hmph. Honestly, I don’t really care. I can go shopping in the States. Sure, I’ll be racially profiled in department stores, forced to sneak things into the car like a thief, but what can you do."
"Sampoong was just too aggressive this time... Ah, no! It’s my fault. Please, just one more chance!"
I was mocking him, but I meant what I said—I wasn’t planning to fire anyone.
In truth, I had no real reason to keep using Myeongsil Department Store, tucked away in what might be Korea’s most expensive land—but still rural compared to my U.S. options.
If it came down to it, I’d just shop in America. I spend plenty of time there anyway.
It stung my pride a little.