[075] The Cold Wind Blows 1
“Hey… Even the high and mighty can’t escape exams, huh?”
“Right? Haven’t seen a trace of him, but here he is, right on time for school.”
After several phone calls, a few classmates who knew my name and face spotted me and gathered around, acknowledging my presence.
“If I get an academic warning, I’m screwed. The penalty is brutal for me.”
“Penalty? What kind of penalty?”
“If I mess up my school life, my grandpa won’t give me any shares. It’s a big deal.”
“Sh-shares?”
“Yeah. More terrifying than a failing grade. Haha.”
I laughed to make it clear I was joking, but they seemed to take it seriously. Their faces were devoid of humor, mouths agape.
“Wow. One F and you lose billions?”
“No, no. More like tens or hundreds of billions, right? If it’s the chairman’s shares, it must be the holding company’s shares.”
Oh, these kids… They actually believe this.
To ordinary people, chaebols must seem like a fantasy. The more unrealistic the story, the more they believe it.
“Hey! Enough! Let’s talk after the exam.”
I shooed away the classmates and opened my book.
I skimmed through the table of contents, trying to gather my thoughts.
I was bound to write something off the mark anyway, but as long as I maintained logical consistency, it would be fine.
As long as I didn’t leave the paper blank. If I filled it in adequately, I could at least get a C or D. The scholarship I receive from the Sunyang Foundation is no small amount.
After the first day of exams, a few kids gathered around again.
“Do-jun, want to grab a beer?”
“What about tomorrow’s exam? Are you giving up?”
“Just a quick drink.”
Even Seoul National University is no different.
I thought only at the so-called no-name colleges would students drink during exam periods, but even prestigious schools are just places where people live.
“I told you earlier, right? My shares are on the line! Let’s have a drink at the end-of-term party after exams. It’s on me. Deal?”
At the mention of me treating them, their eyes lit up.
“Hey, hey! Don’t get too excited. It’s just soju or beer.”
“Only one of those, but unlimited, right?”
One of them asked eagerly.
Ah, these kids are just freshmen.
They’re at an age where the idea of drinking without worrying about money is thrilling.
“Yeah, unlimited, you rascal. Haha.”
These guys. They seem determined to make the most of it.
After finals, they dragged me to the biggest pub near the school.
It was already packed with no empty seats, and I spotted a few seniors here and there.
Thankfully, I sat with the ones I was comfortable talking to, so the awkwardness was minimal.
“Alright, let’s order. Do-jun, what do you want to eat?”
“Hey! Do you think Do-jun’s been to a place like this? Just order whatever.”
A place like this? I’ve been to countless.
How many times have I not been able to order snacks because I was broke?
Thinking about those times made me chuckle.
Since I’m treating, I should get them what I couldn’t afford back then.
I raised my hand to call over a server.
“Did the other tables order drinks?”
“Yes, they ordered draft beer.”
“Cancel that and bring bottled beer instead.”
“What?”
The server was surprised, but my classmates were even more shocked.
“It’s a rare drinking occasion, so I should treat properly. I can’t have people calling me stingy.”
I said with a sly smile, and the guys at the table grinned widely.
“Hey! Do-jun’s treating us to bottled beer!”
One of them stood up and shouted, causing a momentary silence.
Then came the cheers.
Right. For kids without money, bottled beer is the ultimate luxury.
“Do-jun, can we have Capri?”
Someone shouted loudly.
Capri? Ah… that yellow beer that looks like a knockoff of Miller?
I shrugged.
“Capri is bottled beer too. Drink whatever you want.”
A pleasant smile spread across my face.
The simple joy of a little indulgence in youth.
I resolved to occasionally join them and not miss out on these modest pleasures.
“Oh, we should order snacks too.”
I picked up the menu and scanned the list of snacks.
Okay. A few dishes caught my eye.
I raised my hand high.
“Excuse me!”
The server rushed over.
“First, bring eight bottles of Capri.”
Ignoring the blinking eyes of my tablemates, I pointed out snacks on the menu.
“For snacks… let’s see… one sausage stir-fry, spicy whelk salad with noodles… oh, and one dried pollack.”
The server checked the notes they had taken.
“Eight bottles of Capri, sausage stir-fry, spicy whelk, dried pollack. Correct?”
“Yes. Oh, wait. Do you offer dried anchovies and gochujang as a service?”
“Yes, of course.”
One of my classmates, who had been zoning out, snapped back to attention and shouted urgently.
“Order chicken too!”
“Okay. Spicy or fried?”
“F-fried.”
The server nodded and left, and the guys finally spoke up.
“What the heck? Have you been to places like this? You seem to know your way around.”
“A chaebol third-generation at a pub! It doesn’t fit the image, man!”
I suddenly wondered. Did my other chaebol third-generation cousins ever go to pubs? Did they ever sit in a soju bar with just a bowl of fish cake soup?
“I go often. Sometimes with family to eat at a local joint, or with cousins, sharing a stew and soju. Do you think we only dine at hotel restaurants or expensive places every day?”
Their eyes widened in disbelief.
“Even at home, we don’t eat a 12-dish royal meal every time. It’s just soup, stew, and side dishes. Nothing special.”
For someone with humble roots, pretending to be a commoner is easy.
This was a chance to clean up my chaebol third-generation image, killing two birds with one stone.
As we quickly emptied the beers and ordered more bottles, a few seniors approached us.
I didn’t know who they were, so I just blinked, while my classmates stood up and bowed.
“Sorry to crash your party, but we’re about to graduate.”
“No problem, seniors.”
When they mentioned they were fourth-year students, I stood up too.
Seeing them out and about after the end of the term, they must be preparing for jobs.
If they were aiming to be judges or prosecutors, they’d be buried in law books 365 days a year.
“Mind if we join you for a bit? It won’t take long.”
Their expressions were serious. I had a rough idea of what was coming.
“Do-jun, we came by to ask you something. Is that okay?”
“Yes, seniors. Go ahead.”
The seniors sighed deeply and took a swig of beer.
“Actually, the three of us got jobs at financial companies, but one went bankrupt, and the other two sent us cancellation notices. They said they can’t hire new employees this year…”
What a predicament.
They must have chosen high-paying jobs, only to end up graduating as unemployed. If it were a major corporation, the salary might be lower, but at least they wouldn’t be jobless.
“Oh, don’t get us wrong. We’re not asking you for a job.”
The seniors quickly waved their hands, perhaps seeing the bitter look on my face.
“IMF. What do you think will happen? You must know more than us, right? You probably have access to a lot of insider information.”
“We have no choice but to try again next year… But if things are still like this, we’ll have to change our plans. Maybe prepare for the bar exam or the civil service exam.”
Their questions made the surroundings quiet. Everyone was listening intently, waiting for my response.
What should I say?
Should I tell them the truth? Or offer some comfort?
Even as college seniors, they’re still kids in the real world.
Inside the school, they might act like adults, but outside, they’re just naive youngsters.
Would they truly grasp the depth of what’s to come if I told them?
But the earnest eyes of the seniors made it hard to dismiss them as mere kids.
“If you want my opinion… give up on job hunting and prepare for the bar or civil service exams. You’re good at studying, aren’t you? It’s not too late, so start now.”
Their faces fell, not hearing the answer they hoped for.
“Are you saying it’ll be hard to find a job next year because of the IMF?”
Next year?
It’ll be tough forever.
Finding a job will only get harder. Even Seoul National University isn’t exempt.
“Forget about finding a job; even those currently employed will be laid off. Companies will use restructuring as an excuse to wield the axe.”
“L-layoffs?”
“Yes. Even major corporations will cut at least 30% of their workforce. The IMF crisis isn’t just about a liquidity shortage. It’s about our country being in a state of economic bankruptcy.”
The seniors’ silence spread throughout the pub. The once lively chatter began to fade.
“The concept of a lifelong job is gone. Companies can fire employees anytime, and a new term, ‘non-regular employment,’ will emerge.”
“Non-regular employment? What’s that?”
A foreign concept in this era, non-regular employment.
How should I explain it?
I noticed a server moving around the hall. I pointed at them.
“Do you think that server pays income tax or social security?”
“No, right?”
“What about severance pay?”
“Servers don’t get severance pay, do they?”
The seniors looked at me in disbelief.
“Then what if the boss tells them to quit tomorrow?”
“They’d have to quit, right?”
“That’s what being a temporary worker is all about. It’s not just small businesses; even big corporations hire like this.”
It won’t be long before the phrase “Our wish is not for reunification, but for permanent employment” becomes the mantra of Korea.
Yet, they don’t seem to grasp it. You could tell just by looking at their faces.
Everyone was staring at me with a look of disbelief, and I turned to my peers and said, “It’ll take quite some time for the economy to recover from the brink of national bankruptcy. If you’re thinking about getting a job instead of preparing for exams, you should consider completing your military service first. At least you can delay graduation, right? Better to avoid the storm if you can.”
The atmosphere was so somber that my words seemed to carry further than I intended. Many of them tilted their heads in confusion.
For those who had just finished their freshman year, it was a reality that hadn’t hit home yet.
But when the real economic chill sets in next year and people around them become victims of the IMF crisis, they’ll understand what I meant about avoiding the storm.
Was it my inner old man talking?
My worries and nagging went on longer than expected. Now, how do I lift this gloomy mood?
Thankfully, the seniors in their fourth year were a bit more receptive.
“Thanks for the wake-up call.”
“No, I might have been too negative. People running businesses always have to consider the worst-case scenario.”
“We should prepare for the worst too. Graduation is just around the corner.”
The seniors raised their glasses with a bittersweet smile.
“We’re ruining the mood here, aren’t we? Sorry about that. Let’s have a drink!”
“You guys still have plenty of time. There’s enough time to dodge the storm and prepare. Don’t worry, just drink up tonight. Haha.”
Even if it was a forced laugh, it helped lighten the mood.
Besides, being freshmen, they were still somewhat detached from reality. Their voices began to rise again.
But then silence fell once more.
It was because someone burst through the door, bringing a gust of cold wind with them.
Bundled in a thick down parka, with only their eyes visible beneath a wool hat and scarf, it was clear enough that it wasn’t a man.
The woman scanned the pub and then strode directly toward me.
As she unwound her scarf, a pretty face emerged.
“Jin Do-jun. Long time no see.”
I recognized her. She was the one who didn’t take the laptop at the freshman welcome party.
But I couldn’t remember her name. It was on the tip of my tongue, what was it?
Seeing my expression, she clicked her tongue in disbelief.
“You forgot my name, didn’t you?”
Caught off guard, I made the mistake of nodding.