Golden Spoon Investor

"He'll be back as soon as the meeting ends. Please have a seat on the sofa."

Na Sungmi spoke with a calm elegance, her composure flawless.

Lee Sookyung, a reporter from the economic desk of the influential Hansung Daily, took a moment to glance around the room before she and the senior photographer accompanying her walked over to the leather sofa in one corner of the chairman's office.

Normally, she preferred casual attire, but today was different. The editor-in-chief had stressed again and again that, since this was an important interview, she should dress properly. So she came in a blouse, a light gray pantsuit, and low-heeled shoes.

"I'm not going on a blind date. It's just an interview—do I really have to go that far?"

"Shall I assign it to another reporter then?"

"…I was wrong. I'll wear my best outfit."

At that, Sookyung had quickly swallowed her complaints.

After all, this was Chairman Park Seok-won—the man who rarely appeared in the media. And not just any interview, but an exclusive one-on-one. There was no way she'd let another reporter snatch away such a golden opportunity.

So despite the discomfort, she had dug out a suit she rarely wore.

Her eyes flicked sideways toward Na Sungmi, standing by the door.

As expected of the chairman's secretary, the woman was not only gorgeous but dressed in a way that was both modest and refined.

"…Guess the editor-in-chief was right after all."

If she had come dressed the way she usually did, she probably would've felt a subtle sense of inferiority.

Relieved that the outfit she'd chosen from her wardrobe was, at the very least, an expensive purchase from a department store, Lee Sookyung settled into the leather sofa and slowly let her eyes wander around the room.

Contrary to her expectations—that the office of the world's richest man, whose assets exceeded hundreds of billions of dollars, would be decorated with every kind of luxury item—the space was strikingly simple and impeccably neat.

On the wall hung a Western painting in the Cubist style, a method of depicting objects from multiple angles on a single canvas. Beneath it, a large, round, snow-white moon jar sat atop a table, glowing softly like a full moon.

The bookshelves, instead of being filled with untouched ornamental hardcovers, were tightly packed with recent works and academic papers in fields such as economics, history, and science.

There were no unnecessary decorations; only the essential furniture was present. Yet each piece made it obvious, at a glance, that it had been crafted from the finest materials.

The atmosphere is completely different from the offices of other conglomerate chairmen, she thought.

Rather than exuding the usual aura of authority and weight, the room carried a practical yet refined impression—perhaps because its occupant was so much younger than most other business magnates.

Just then, Kim Sun-han, the photographer who had come along with her, nudged her with his elbow, excitement lighting up his face as he gestured toward the painting across from them.

"Did you see that painting?"

"What about it?"

"Don't tell me you don't know what it is."

When Kim whispered, Sookyung instinctively lowered her voice as well.

"So what is it?"

"It's Les Femmes d'Alger! Women of Algiers! A world-famous piece!"

"If even you know the name, then it must really be famous."

Kim Sun-han looked at her as if he couldn't believe his ears.

"No matter how little interest you have in art, how can you not know that?"

"Why not? It's possible," Lee Sookyung shot back, wearing a look that said he was making too big a fuss.

"But come on—not recognizing a Picasso? That's just plain ignorant."

"Excuse me? Do you not know I graduated from Ewha? Top of my class, too!"

Snapping back in irritation, Sookyung suddenly froze, her eyes widening.

"Wait… did you just say Picasso?"

"Of course I did!"

Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

"You mean to tell me—that's an actual Picasso painting?"

Her voice rose without her realizing it. When she noticed Na Seongmi by the door, she flushed with embarrassment and quickly ducked her head.

Seongmi, ever discreet, quietly averted her gaze, pretending not to hear. Sun-han, however, gave her a look full of exasperation.

"Do you really think they'd hang a fake in here?"

Sookyung's eyes drifted back to the wall, staring at the Picasso with newfound awe.

"If it's genuine… it must be insanely expensive, right?"

"Of course. It's a one-of-a-kind original, and one that perfectly shows Picasso's signature style. Even without knowing the exact value, it's easily worth tens of millions—maybe hundreds."

"Unbelievable… something that should be in a museum is just… hanging here."

Hearing the price, Lee Sookyung swallowed hard.

By contrast, Kim Sun-han—who clearly had a keener appreciation for art—gazed at Women of Algiers with open admiration.

"Who would've thought I'd see a painting like this here, instead of in some famous museum?"

Seeing a work worth hundreds of millions hanging casually on the wall, Sookyung was struck anew by the fact that the man who owned this office was, indeed, the wealthiest man in the world.

Standing quietly off to the side, Na Seongmi stole a sideways glance at the two of them, a faint sense of pride welling up inside her.

Just then, the heavy wooden door swung open, and Seok-won entered, dressed in a tailored navy suit.

As Sookyung and Sun-han rose to their feet, Seok-won greeted them with a warm smile.

"You must be the reporter from the Hansung Daily I'm supposed to meet today."

"Yes. I'm Lee Sookyung from the Hansung Daily's economics desk," she replied.

She had known he was handsome from photos, but in person he was even more striking—model-like, really. Before she realized it, a faint flush had colored her cheeks as she handed over her carefully prepared business card.

Seok-won glanced at it before slipping it neatly into his inner pocket, then turned his gaze toward Sun-han, who quickly bowed his head.

"Kim Sun-han, sir."

His eyes flicked briefly to the camera bag resting on the sofa.

"A photojournalist, I see."

"That's right."

Seok-won offered him a friendly smile.

"Then please make sure they come out well."

"Haha—honestly, with someone like you, it doesn't matter how I shoot it. Every picture will look like a magazine spread."

"Thank you for saying that."

Unlike Sookyung, who was still a little stiff with nerves, Sun-han's easy banter kept the atmosphere relaxed.

Loosening the button of his jacket, Seok-won took the central seat with natural authority, then gestured lightly toward the sofa.

"Please—let's sit and continue our conversation."

Only then did Lee Suk-young come to her senses. She sat back down, inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming her excited heart.

She might be a little scatterbrained at times, but seeing her quickly return to her usual confident and clever self reassured him that there was nothing to worry about.

Kim Sun-han pulled a camera from his bag, mounted it on the tripod set up in the corner, and smoothly finished preparing for the shoot.

After snapping a few lighthearted photos and breaking the ice with some casual conversation, Lee Suk-young switched on her voice recorder, set it on the table, and spoke.

"First of all, thank you for giving me this exclusive interview."

"I'm not such an important person. I'm not sure anyone will even care once the article is published."

Sitting with one leg crossed, Seok-won replied modestly, wearing a relaxed expression.

"Not long ago, Forbes startled everyone when you overtook Bill Gates, the Microsoft founder who had long held the top spot, to become the world's richest man. Then you acquired several Hansan Group affiliates that had fallen under court receivership along with WB Bank, and most recently, you purchased Minguk Life Insurance for the staggering sum of 2.3 trillion won. With such moves, Chairman, you're constantly at the center of attention. I'm certain that when this interview goes live, countless readers will be eager to read it."

Instead of replying, Seok-won gave a faint smile.

"May I start with the question I think our subscribers are most curious about?"

"Go ahead."

Her eyes sparkling, Lee Suk-young leaned forward with the first question.

"Forbes and Time estimate your wealth at over 90 billion dollars. Is that accurate?"

Seok-won smiled faintly at her curious tone.

"I can't give you every detail, but that's more or less correct."

At that, Lee Suk-young let out a soft exclamation.

"I see. And as far as I know, you achieved all of this without any help from your father, Chairman Park Tae-hong of Daeheung Group. That's truly remarkable."

"But as you probably know, with the rise of my Yahoo, Amazon, and Cisco holdings, the value of those stocks alone has likely pushed it past the 100-billion-dollar mark. Of course, I'd have to run the numbers to be exact."

He spoke casually, and Lee Suk-young's eyes widened.

"Ah, of course. With the dot-com boom, the U.S. stock market is on fire right now. Still—one hundred billion dollars! I can't even begin to grasp how much money that really is."

Then, as a sudden thought struck her, she leaned forward urgently.

"If I remember correctly, no one in history has ever had assets exceeding one hundred billion. That means you've become the very first centibillionaire, haven't you?"

"By good fortune, it seems so."

Seok-won shrugged casually in reply.

From the very start, Lee Suk-young felt she had struck gold. She clenched her fist under the table, secretly grateful to have landed this interview.

Over the course of an hour, she had drawn out plenty of stories that would capture her readers' interest. But as the time to wrap up approached, she asked her final question with some reluctance.

"Chairman, you must have heard about the venture company that has become the driving force behind the KOSDAQ frenzy, soaring more than fiftyfold in the domestic stock market."

"You're talking about Goldbank."

"Exactly. From what I've heard, before Goldbank was listed on KOSDAQ, Bluehole Venture Capital made an angel investment and ended up holding quite a large stake."

"At one point, we owned precisely fifty-five percent."

Since it was one of the pre-arranged questions, Lee Suk-young had asked it casually. But when she caught his phrasing—past tense—she froze and pressed for clarification.

"Just now, you said owned. Does that mean you've already sold off part of your stake?"

In fact, the very reason Seok-won had agreed to today's interview was to make that announcement publicly. With composure, he gave his answer.

"That's right. We've already sold half of our holdings, and I plan to continue divesting until we've fully exited."

Startled, Lee Suk-young raised her eyebrows.

"Is that true?"

Even Kim Sun-han, who had been busy taking photos from the tripod, lowered his camera with a stunned expression, staring at Seok-won.

"It is."

Seok-won gave a small nod.

Feeling the heat of a breaking scoop, Lee Suk-young fought to contain her excitement and asked carefully,

"Some analysts argue that Goldbank's stock price has been inflated far beyond its actual performance or intrinsic value. Are you selling for that reason?"

Meeting their gaze calmly, Seok-won answered evenly,

"It's true that Goldbank's price has risen too steeply in a short period. But I see it as a reflection of the global internet boom and the explosive growth potential of Korea's own internet market."

"If that's the case, the stock could rise even higher. Then why are you selling your stake?"

It was a sharp question, but Seok-won showed no sign of being unsettled.

"As you mentioned earlier, Bluehole Venture Capital invests in promising startups, helps them grow, and then shares in the fruits once the results are achieved. That's why we invested in Goldbank. Since the outcome far exceeded expectations, I believe our role is finished, and it's time to realize those gains."

"So you don't believe the current stock price is a bubble?"

"It could rise further, or it could lose steam here—but unless I were a prophet, I wouldn't know. What I do know is that we've already surpassed our target returns. Now it's simply a matter of moving on to the next promising venture."

Not satisfied with such a textbook answer, Lee Suk-young was about to press again when Seok-won rolled back his sleeve and checked the watch on his wrist.

"My, time has already slipped away. I have another appointment, so I'm afraid we'll have to end the interview here."

Lee Suk-young's lips parted as if to say something more, but instead she looked full of regret.

"There are still so many questions I'd love to ask, but I suppose it can't be helped. Thank you very much for giving us this time today."

In truth, she wanted to cling a little longer, but his clean, decisive way of closing the meeting made it clear—he was not someone who could be swayed by cheap tricks.

"I hope there'll be another chance for us to talk again."

Her tone carried a subtle suggestion, but Seok-won only smiled faintly, offering no reply.

A short while later, once Lee Suk-young and Kim Sun-han had packed up their equipment and left, Seok-won rose to his feet and walked over to the window. He gazed up at the sky, heavy with rain clouds, and murmured to himself,

"Now that I've done the interview, at least no one can come later and accuse me of manipulating the stock."

The very conversation they had that day might become the spark that sent Goldbank's share price crashing. But for a few coins more, he had no intention of inviting needless suspicion.

Even if the stock collapsed and he failed to unload the rest of his holdings, it didn't matter. He had already made more than enough profit.

And in the back of his mind, there was one other thought: perhaps today's words would serve as a warning—a signal to reckless retail investors caught up in the frenzy, that they were playing a dangerous game of hot potato.