Chapter 1

Hyena of Capitalism - Chapter 1 (1/215)

I am Park Sol, a 70-year-old man. Since it's 1994, I am 25 years old this year.

Our family was poor.

I had never worn a new outfit I wanted, and I had never eaten meat to my heart's content.

But my parents were kind, and my youngest sister, born 10 years after me, was spirited. Although I had a dog-like older brother, our family was still harmonious.

Even if other relatives looked at us with disdain, I ignored them. My father, who had foolishly given all of my grandfather's inheritance to my uncle, seemed naive, but I tried to understand him.

However, not having money was a harsh reality. Every month, the rent and utility bills, along with my dog-like older brother's insignificant college expenses and tuition, squeezed my father and mother's necks.

I was a much better student and dreamed of joining a large company after studying mechanical engineering, but our family's situation was already overwhelming with just my older brother.

I wanted to go to college, but I couldn't bring myself to ask my parents for money. After returning from the military, I started doing manual labor at 22 to earn some pocket money before getting a job, and it turned out to be more manageable than I thought, with decent income.

Although it was physically demanding, it was a better way to earn money than most companies. I gave up on finding a job early and lived for the joy of saving money. By the time I was 24, I had saved enough to rent a studio and live independently.

My mother, who said it was a waste to pay double the rent, suggested I just commute from home, but I had no other reason. I just wanted to live alone and have a free life without interference.

"Brother, should we take a break?"

When my close friend, who worked with me, suggested a break, I put down the cement bag and wiped my sweat.

"Today is really tough. Maruya, let's have a glass of makgeolli in secret."

"If we get caught by the supervisor again, how will we handle it? Let's have a drink after work."

Kim Maruya, my younger brother who worked with me at the labor agency, was an orphan. His name was given by the orphanage director.

I'm not small either, but his towering figure, standing at 185 centimeters and weighing 120 kilograms, was intimidating, yet he was surprisingly simple and kind.

We became close while working together and often shared a bowl of makgeolli.

"Phew. There's no satisfaction. No satisfaction..."

"You live for the joy of earning money. Honestly, manual labor is the best for us in our situation. The best."

"What's the point of saving for a hundred days when the rich live lavishly up there?"

In 1994, South Korea was enjoying its best boom.

With excellent export performance and rosy prospects, South Korea's future was bright. Not mine, though.

Sigh... I also wanted to be rich. I wanted to buy a luxury car and live in a mansion with a yard.

What would it feel like to sit comfortably in the back seat of a luxury car driven by a chauffeur?

"Is there any good business opportunity? They say everything is booming these days, and people are succeeding. Maybe I should try running a store?"

Maruya clicked his tongue and said,

"There you go again. Is business something anyone can do? Even if you save up, after the deposit, you might have only ten million won. Instead of thinking about that, you should save money and think about buying a house."

"Damn. Can't I even dream? If I'm going to live, shouldn't I hope for a better life? I want to earn money! I want to run a business! I want to hear people call me 'boss'!"

Whether I said it or not, Maruya ignored me, closed his eyes, and started resting on the ground.

At that moment, an old man pulling a cart full of scrap approached the construction site. He seemed to be heading to a junkyard across the street.

"Maruya, how much money do you think he makes from selling scrap?"

Maruya, with his eyes closed, answered half-heartedly.

"Maybe he's lucky to make ten thousand won a day? Since we can't do the job, he must be picking up scrap."

As the cart entered the junkyard, I said,

"Does the junkyard make a lot of money?"

"I don't know. But if it didn't, he wouldn't do it, right? But it's just a junkyard, so what's the big deal?"

"Maybe. How about I save more money and open a bar?"

"Sure."

"Damn, I want to have another drink."

Maruya and I were on our way home after drinking makgeolli, but I felt a bit unsatisfied.

"Should I buy one more bottle and drink it?"

I headed to my regular convenience store.

As I picked up a bottle of makgeolli and went to the register, a New Grandeur pulled up in front of the store, and a grandfather in his 60s got out and entered the store.

I paid for the makgeolli and looked at him enviously.

'Wow, a New Grandeur. How much does that car cost? He must be making a lot of money. I envy him.'

Could I save enough to buy it if I worked hard all year without taking a day off and not spending a penny? It would be cool to have women ask for rides. But the maintenance costs must be high, right?

I had these pointless thoughts as I went home, drank makgeolri with kimchi from home, and fell asleep.

The next day, Maruya and I took the labor agency's van to the same construction site as yesterday.

My head hurt from drinking one more bottle of makgeolli yesterday, but I stretched and prepared to work. Across the street, a New Grandeur parked in front of the junkyard.

I thought, "There are so many rich people," but then I was surprised.

It was the same grandfather I saw yesterday.

The grandfather unlocked the junkyard and got back into his car, driving inside.

I nudged Maruya and said,

"Maruya, did you see the New Grandeur enter the junkyard just now?"

Maruya shook his head and said,

"No, I didn't see it. Why?"

"No, no. I saw a grandfather in a New Grandeur at the convenience store in front of my house yesterday. He just unlocked the junkyard and drove in. What's going on? Is he the owner?"

"He could be the owner and drive a Grandeur. What's the big deal?"

Maruya spoke bluntly and told me to get to work.

I answered, "Okay," but my eyes were fixed on the junkyard.

Maybe the junkyard is more profitable than I thought. I started observing the junkyard all day.

The junkyard's wall was not very high, so I could see inside from the third floor of the construction site.

The New Grandeur I saw earlier was covered with a tarp, and the junkyard was filled with mountains of various trash.

It seemed strange that someone who could afford a New Grandeur would be involved in such a business, but I was strangely interested.

The grandfather, who had changed into work clothes, started sorting through the trash.

He was using a screwdriver, hammering, and disassembling things. When old men with carts full of scrap arrived, he weighed them and paid them.

Sometimes a 1-ton Porter would come to the junkyard, carrying not only scrap but also appliances and scrap metal, and the grandfather would pay them and send them off.

"If they can afford to drive a truck, they must be making a profit even after the fuel costs. Is this really a profitable business?"

I don't know. I've seen many successful careers while doing manual labor for years.

Lawyers who make money and build buildings, or restaurant owners who expand and buy land to build new buildings.

When people in Korea make a lot of money, they tend to build buildings.

Anyway, when I saw those successful careers, I thought, "This requires a lot of capital, so I can't do it," or "I can't cook," or "I can't handle the irregular hours," and had a negative mindset. But something about this felt right, and my intuition was working non-stop.

I've had good intuition since I was young. When faced with a choice, I often felt a strong excitement and focused on one thing.

And those choices often turned out to be beneficial. Because of this, I trusted my intuition quite a bit, and now it was moving more than ever.

"I can't stand it. I need to take a day off tomorrow and check it out. Why am I feeling this way? It feels good."

They say you can pull a bull's horn if you do it quickly. I told the labor agency I would take a day off and, when Maruya asked what was going on, I said nothing was wrong. I headed to the junkyard with my heart racing since yesterday.

The junkyard had a very old and shabby metal panel fence and a poorly made wooden door. When I knocked, a voice came from inside.

"Come in."

I cautiously opened the door and saw the grandfather, hammer in hand, continuously hitting something. He turned his head and said,

"Welcome. What brings you here?"

"Hello. I came to ask a few questions..."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Um... Well..."

When I tried to speak, I felt my words were stuck.

How should I ask? I couldn't just ask if it was profitable or if he drove a New Grandeur. After hesitating for a while, I said,

"Are you the owner here?"

"Yes, that's right. Are you here to sell or buy?"

"Um... Do you sell things here?"

"There are many things piled up over there. Take a look and bring what you want."

I went to where the owner pointed. Various items were scattered on the ground.

Toys, chairs, shoes, pots, tires, and even a radio.

"Does this even work?"

I was just looking around when I saw a very clean folding table.

It looked undamaged and sturdy, and it was a well-known brand. Since I didn't have a table at home, I thought I should take this one.

I picked it up and asked the owner,

"Sir, how much is this table?"

The owner glanced at the table and said,

"5000 won."

"5000 won?"

This table would cost at least tens of thousands of won if bought new, but even as a used item in a junkyard, 5000 won was a great deal. I felt like I had hit the jackpot and handed over 5000 won.

While the owner was taking the 5000 won, a Porter loaded with items entered the junkyard. The driver waved and said,

"Mr. Kim, can you take these items?"

"Did you find anything good?"

"I put some furniture in a residential area. It took up too much space, so I had to clean it out. Two wardrobes, four chairs, and two tables."

The owner silently weighed the items and said,

"20 won per kilogram, 200 kilograms, so 4000 won. Do you want it now or later?"

"It's not much. I'll come back in the evening, so let's settle it then. I'll be on my way."

And then I saw it. One of the tables on the truck was the same as the one I had just bought for 5000 won. All of them for 4000 won?

"Huh?"