Upon receiving this report, Kim Il-sung was reportedly surprised, asking, “Is there such a way to make money in the capitalist world?” and ordered the establishment of a specialized foreign exchange trading department, starting with the Joseon Trading Bank.
The Foreign Exchange Manipulation Bureau, born in this way, unfailingly existed in places like Macau where local subsidiaries could be established.
After experiencing massive exchange profits a few more times, the North Korean regime selected top university graduates, trained them intensively, and deployed them as foreign exchange dealers.
Of course, they spared no support in providing them with other necessities as well.
“I’ll have to work hard.”
Oh Gap-su replied apathetically.
The difficult economic situation of The Republic was not a recent development.
Despite criticism from both inside The Republic and foreign countries, the three-generation hereditary succession system to Kim Jong-un was underway.
In such a situation, there was no way the introduction of foreign loans would go smoothly.
Though unspoken, there wasn’t a single employee who didn’t know the news that people were currently starving to death in droves in The Republic due to food shortages.
“You’ll have to do that hard work after you visit The Republic.”
“Why The Republic all of a sudden?”
“There’s some bad news.”
“…”
“Don’t be shocked.”
“Ah, just tell me quickly.”
Oh Gap-su snapped in anger at Yi Mun-gi’s hesitation.
An unknown sense of anxiety washed over him.
“We received word that your father, Comrade Oh Je-sang, passed away in a traffic accident last night.
It hasn’t even been that long since Comrade Yi Yong-cheol passed away from a heart attack, and now this…”
“…!”
“You must be in shock, so do the handover tomorrow morning, take an afternoon flight, and go rest for a few days.”
“Understood.”
“No matter what conditions they use to coax you, you must return.
I barely managed to stop them from transferring you back to the home country last time.
If it weren’t for your father’s funeral, I wouldn’t send you…”
Leaving behind Yi Mun-gi, who was worried his funding source would be cut off, Oh Gap-su exited the office.
After getting off work, Oh Gap-su ate seolleongtang at a Korean restaurant with Jo Cheol-jung.
He had no deep affection for his father.
Oh Je-sang was a loyal worker of The Republic.
He was a man who prioritized The Republic over his family.
Oh Gap-su had to be at his mother’s deathbed alone.
“Is something wrong?”
Jo Cheol-jung had been feeling anxious ever since Oh Gap-su, who usually swaggered around and never lost his smile, came out with a stiff face and suggested coming here instead of heading straight to the casino.
“It’s nothing.
Let’s just eat.”
Oh Gap-su, who was picking up his spoon, looked back at Jo Cheol-jung and spoke.
“Cheol-jung.”
“Yes, Brother.”
When Oh Gap-su called his name, Jo Cheol-jung swallowed nervously and replied.
Others pointed fingers at Oh Gap-su, calling him a Nolsae tainted by the rotten waters of capitalism, but to him, he was a lifesaver.