CH6 : Office & Factory

"Can you produce fabric if I settle your overdue wages and take over the factory?"

"Gasp! Are you a new factory owner?"

"As I said earlier, I'm a fabric exporter. Anyway, the important thing is whether this factory can run or not. If the previous owner has even stolen the equipment parts, then it's a complete bust."

"Don't worry. We're very diligent. With a few oilings and some adjustments, we can get the factory running smoothly right away."

The young men were confident.

Fortunately, it seemed the previous owner didn't have time to steal the equipment. Did he run away in the middle of the night?

"Hey! Taking over the factory? This factory is up for auction, what are you talking about?"

An auctioneer, overhearing the conversation, shouted out.

Understandably, he had brought along bankers and police to try and acquire the factory at a low price.

He planned to drive away the obstructive employees, undercutting the price of the machinery and land.

"Hey, you can't call an exporter 'this guy' and 'that guy.' High-ranking officials won't just stand by, right, officer?"

I showed my passport and pointed north.

In those days, having a passport meant your identity was verified, and you had financial power.

For me, it was a gamble with my entire fortune. Well, the previous owner of this body had prepared the passport for studying abroad.

Anyway, pointing towards the Blue House with a passport in hand would intimidate anyone in 1960s Korea.

The term 'export hero' was almost like saying 'I've got connections.'

"... Gasp. Yes, of course. High-ranking officials wouldn't stay quiet."

The policeman was startled when he saw the entry stamps on my passport.

He was quick to catch on.

"Connections... Connections, you say? I have connections too."

"Then bring them over. Hey, you're a bank employee, right? How much is this factory's debt?"

I ignored the auctioneer and asked the banker.

"Combining all debts, it's about 20 million won."

"20 million won? Fighting so aggressively over that amount..."

Not even 200 million, just 20 million won?

No, in 21st-century terms, it would roughly be multiplied by 100... 2 billion won? Wow! That's a lot of money.

It seemed I would need some time to get used to the 1960s prices.

Multiplying by 100 in real time was more cumbersome than I thought.

At some point, the banker put down his gukbap and took a polite stance.

It was because I had momentarily shown a look of 'You're fighting over just 20 million won?'

Although I quickly realized the value of the money and put on a stern face, his misunderstanding didn't disappear.

"Wouldn't it be better to find a new owner for 20 million won instead of going through the auction? If it fails at auction a few times, the bank won't even recover the principal, let alone interest."

"That's true."

"Hey, what are you saying? The bank plans to attach seizure papers today and put the factory up for auction... Mmm..."

"Quiet! A high-ranking person is speaking."

The policeman covered the auctioneer's mouth and dragged him away somewhere.

The policeman must have been worried about staying there and getting caught in trouble with high-ranking people.

Seeing even the banker being respectful, he must have been convinced I had connections.

In the 1960s, it was never wise to upset someone who might have connections.

"Which bank are you with? I'll send someone to negotiate the factory takeover."

I'll send Sambok. He's smart and good with money calculations, so he'll negotiate better than I could.

"I'm the manager of the high loans department at Johong Bank. Please take good care of us."

"I'm Woo Chan-soo, president of Daese Industries. I came out for some business and didn't bring my business card. I'll visit the bank president soon. Let's meet then."

"Yes, President Woo. It would be an honour if you visit."

It seemed he had a big misunderstanding, but I obtained crucial information from the banker—that the factory's debt was 20 million won.

Taking over the factory didn't seem difficult.

Retired OBs used to say that taking over a factory in the 1960s was like renting a house.

If the factory's debt was 20 million won, it would roughly require a 5 million won deposit and 300,000 won monthly interest.

That's with the standard loan interest rate of 25%, and as a registered export company, we could get interest rate discounts, making the interest even lower.

"Take this for your travel expenses. We don't need the seizure papers anymore, so let's tear them up."

"Gasp!"

I tore up the seizure papers the banker was holding. Even if the auctioneers tried to overturn things, it would take some time to reissue the papers.

I just needed to take over the factory before then.

I handed the banker a 500-won bill and pushed him out of the alley.

The banker left reluctantly but would likely wait since I said I'd send someone to take over the factory.

Finding a buyer for an auction that was bound to fail would greatly help his performance review if the deal went through.

***

Clang. Clang.

I brought out the cutter and began cutting the chains wrapped around the young men.

The rusty chains had caused their skin to fester and ooze.

"How long did you endure this?"

"About three days."

"Goodness, that was close."

They should consider themselves lucky to have met me.

Another day like this, and the injuries would have been more severe.

"Thank you."

"You can thank me after checking the factory. Let's go inside first."

"Yes, sir."

The three young men, without hesitation, opened the factory door ahead of me.

I expected the factory to be covered in dust, but it was cleaner than I thought.

"It's cleaner than I expected."

"Yes, we cleaned every day."

"Our parents told us to keep the place where we eat and sleep clean."

"Huh? You lived here?"

"Yes, we all graduated from Masan Technical High School and got jobs here in Seoul right away. We were deceived by the promise of room and board."

The three seemed to be classmates from Masan Technical High School.

It was hard to tell because they were covered in oil, but upon closer inspection, they had young faces. They looked just about 20 years old.

"You didn't go back to your hometown and endured well."

"..."

"I'll make sure you don't regret that choice. Now, let's get the equipment running."

"Yes, sir."

As equipment technicians, their hands moved skillfully.

They set up empty bobbins, lubricated various parts, and repeatedly opened and closed the looms with just a glance at each other.

As they pulled the lever, the machines started humming energetically.

If there had been yarn on the bobbins, fabric would have been produced smoothly.

Vroom...

"Why did it stop?"

"If the yarn doesn't catch, it automatically stops."

"Oh, I see."

Even the looms of the 1960s had some automatic functions.

Sure, if the thread breaks or runs out, the machine should stop; otherwise, it would only produce defective fabric.

"There are nine more of these machines, right?"

"Yes... Would you like to see more?"

"No, idling the machines will just wear them out. What else do we need to get them running properly?"

"First, we need to reconnect the cut-off water and electricity."

"The electricity is cut off? Then how did you run the machines just now?"

"We used an emergency generator. This area has frequent power outages, so an emergency generator is essential."

They even had an emergency generator. They were well-prepared.

"Water and electricity are easy fixes. Is that all?"

That couldn't be all.

If the factory could be run properly, why would the previous owner run away?

In the 1960s, anything produced could be sold.

Not because purchasing power was high, but because there was a severe shortage of goods, and inflation was over 16% annually.

In other words, just producing and stockpiling goods would increase their prices in such a strange country.

"Honestly, there aren't many intact pieces of equipment. Most of the motors need to be replaced. The previous owner brought in cheap second-hand equipment to show to investors..."

Showed it to investors?

No wonder the number of machines seemed excessive for the factory size.

The previous owner was more focused on getting loans by showing off the factory with second-hand equipment than actually running it.

He probably gambled or invested heavily in stocks.

In the 1960s, private loan interest rates were 50% annually, and the stock market was like a gambling den.

Come to think of it, wasn't there a stock market crash around this time, with stocks plummeting by 80%?

The stock crash left the Korean stock market virtually closed for about three years, with no IPOs happening around 1965.

It was an unprecedented situation worldwide.

In short, the financial market was a mess.

"Are motors the only thing we need?"

"... We also need to replace all the worn rollers and handwheels with new ones. If we run the machines as they are, the fabric will likely tear."

They were honest. These were trustworthy people.

"Any other parts needed?"

"... Various bearings, header pins, and consumable tools are also needed. The previous owner took all the fabric and consumables when he fled... Damn it..."

Of course.

No one running away would leave valuable things behind. It seemed these guys staying in the factory prevented the equipment from being taken.

In a time when scammers were everywhere, the fleeing owner would reappear once the factory was auctioned off and debts were settled, pretending to pay for past sins.

After about a year in prison, the money he had hidden would have grown into a fortune, and he'd likely start another scam.

Such people have no guilt.

They would see themselves not as fraudsters but as businessmen.

One of the reasons 21st-century Korea became a scam republic is due to the lenient laws from the 1960s that weren't reformed.

Anyway, it seemed like we had covered most of the issues, even down to the consumable parts.

"How much would it cost to replace the motors, rollers, wheels, and consumable parts?"

"... At least 1 million won."

1 million won would be roughly 100 million won by my standards.

Not a small amount.

But for normalizing a factory, it wasn't an exorbitant sum either.

"That's manageable. So, how about it? Want to make some money with me?"

I extended my hand for a handshake.

I liked these guys.

Their first goal might have been to get their overdue wages, but they had kept the factory running and maintained it, showing attachment to the place.

Responsible employees are invaluable anywhere.

Besides, how much could I, specialized in construction and plant heavy industries, know about textile technology?

Even 1960s engineers would have more experience than I do.

Of course, they would need a proper boss, just like me.

"Gasp, are you hiring us?"

"Thank you, sir. Thank you."

"We'll do whatever you ask. We'll work hard."

They were naive.

In the 21st century, workers would first settle their overdue wages, check the employment contract, and then shake hands.

But this was a romantic era.

"Let's reintroduce ourselves. I'm Woo Chan-soo from Daese Industries."

"I'm Kim Sung-gu, team leader."

"I'm Park Yong-gu, team leader."

"I'm Lee Dong-gu, team leader."

Each introduced themselves as a team leaders.

Though their last names were different, their first names were oddly similar.

Amusingly, Sung-gu, Yong-gu, and Dong-gu sounded like typical boys' names from a 1960s Korean textbook.

Oh, right, it's the 1960s now. Common names indeed.

"Alright, team leaders. We'll need a few days to take over the factory, so clean it up and get estimates for the necessary parts. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll settle your overdue wages when we complete the takeover. How much are they?"

To take over the factory, the overdue wages must be settled first. Completing the takeover means resolving the existing debts.

"Yes. Each of us is owed 42,300 won."

"Really? You must have worked a lot of overtime."

Didn't Sambok say his salary was around 30,000 won?

Skilled workers were paid quite well in those days.

Yes, if you work overtime, you earn 1.5 times more...

"Yes, we worked overtime every day for three months straight. We gave up three out of six holidays too."

"... Three months straight? Including giving up holidays?"

I was astonished.

42,300 won was three months' wages?

Even with overtime, their monthly salary was less than 15,000 won.

And they only had three days off in three months?

The previous owner was a complete scoundrel.

He must have exploited these young men, fresh from the countryside, knowing they were inexperienced.

"... Yes, it's for three months."

"If it's difficult to pay all at once, you can give it to us in instalments..."

"Whenever you can give it, we'd be grateful."

The three repeatedly bowed, embarrassed.

It wasn't that I couldn't pay the large sum at once; it was just surprising they had lived under such conditions.

"Of course, I'll settle your overdue wages, and let's adjust your salaries. Don't worry. I'll make sure you get at least 15,000 won with proper overtime pay."

"Gasp!"

Even in the 1960s, if I couldn't afford to pay that much, I shouldn't be in business.

A bowl of gukbap cost 100 won, so a salary of 15,000 won was necessary to afford three meals a day and clothing.

"Sir, what should we start with?"

"Clean the place and identify the necessary parts. Did you learn how to write technical specifications at technical school? List the required parts, prices, and quantities. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Trust us! We'll do it well."

Their eyes already sparkled with gratitude.

A salary of 15,000 won seemed to move them beyond gratitude to pure joy.

"And if you know any hardworking friends, bring them along. It would be tough for just three of you to run this factory."

"Yes, sir."

"One last thing. Are there any records or documents left by the previous owner?"

"... I'm not sure, but the former owner's office is over here."

The three led me to a loft-like room on the second floor, filled with papers and items.

"Did you clean this too?"

"Yes, the previous owner took everything valuable. We just piled up the scattered papers on the desk."

The ceiling was low, but it was perfect for sitting and working on paperwork.

I felt good.

I had a factory and a decent office.