I Became the Youngest Daughter of a Chaebol Family-Chapter 4: Be My Disciple

Some people might say this:

Why is a regressor like me so obsessed with power? Isn’t this a capitalist society where, as long as you have money, anything is possible?

They might ask, why not just use my future knowledge to gain wealth and fame—won’t power naturally follow?

To put it bluntly: they’re wrong.

Money is an incredibly important tool. In a capitalist society, if power had a reserve currency, it would absolutely be money. Most forms of power can be substituted with money.

But... that currency is backed by violence. It’s a violence standard, not a gold standard.

Until August 15, 1971—before President Nixon suspended the gold convertibility—you could exchange $35 for an ounce of gold. In the same way, all forms of power assume they can be converted into violence.

And—

The most basic condition of a modern state is the monopoly on violence.

Just like ice cream melting under the warm summer sun, all power that stems from money dissolves like an illusion in the face of the pure and massive power wielded by the state.

Take, for example, the 1985 dismantling of Dongguk Group. It was the eighth-largest chaebol at the time, and the moment it fell out of favor with the president, it was torn apart into dozens of pieces—so thoroughly that not even a trace remained.

How was that possible? The very fact that such absurdity is possible—that’s what makes power so terrifying.

I heard Daehwa Group got a good share of the scraps back then, too. I wonder if I’ll be able to intervene.

The suspension of the violence standard, what polite people call “civilization” or “democratization,” only starts to become effective after we enter the 21st century.

Anyway. The important thing is: this is still the 20th century. And in the 1980s, money isn’t nearly as valuable as people think it is.

Once again, what I want is not just wealth...

But strong and enduring power.

“Ah, Ha-yeon. It’s been a while.”

As Kim Hae-ik, the Chief Secretary for Economic Affairs, greeted me with an easy smile, I reaffirmed that truth.

***

I’d made a small mistake. I didn’t actually need my grandfather’s permission to meet with Kim Hae-ik in the first place.

As I said earlier: the state is the institution that monopolizes violence—it is the embodiment of all power. So anyone who can speak their mind freely beneath the blue-tiled roof of the Blue House is not someone who kneels before a mere chaebol chairman.

“You saved my life. Thank you. I truly mean it.”

And really—how many people could forget a child warning them of a bombing the day before it happened?

At the very least, Kim Hae-ik wasn’t that kind of person.

I should’ve thought of that—should’ve kept his personal gratitude separate from the political debts my grandfather was collecting. I clicked my tongue at my own shortsightedness.

“No, I should be thanking you. You actually listened to something a kid said. And you were lucky, too. Your schedule got pushed, and I heard only one of the bombs went off, right?”

“No, you were part of that luck. If I’d just listened to that requiem without thinking, it could’ve ended up as my funeral song. So then—do you want anything from this old man? Your grandfather said... you take after him quite a bit.”

...That didn’t sound like a compliment.

I glanced up at Kim Hae-ik and gently probed.

“Well, even if I asked you for money or insider policy tips, you wouldn’t give them to me, right?”

“Haha. That’s true. If I used my power for personal gain... that would be corruption. Bribery. It’s something no civil servant should ever do.”

He answered with a firm expression. I only responded with a vague, puzzled look.

...Right. It’s just that nearly everyone else does it.

Even the man currently running the Blue House does it constantly.

Still, in many ways, Kim Hae-ik is an impressive and upright man. He even managed to subtly criticize the very president who appointed him.

Anyway, I figured this was enough to ask what I really wanted.

Looking up at him with sparkling eyes, I asked:

“Then... could you maybe teach me economics?”

“...”

This time, it was Kim Hae-ik who lost his words. It was well known that he had once essentially tutored President Jeon Doo-gwang in economics.

Naturally, since then, no one besides the president had ever dared ask him for “that” kind of favor. Who on earth would dare treat the Blue House’s Chief Secretary like a private tutor?

“Hm. Wait... you don’t mean just once, do you...”

He was checking if I was just saying it for show, but I nodded without hesitation, confirming his suspicion.

“Yes. I want to meet with you regularly. To learn. About economics.”

Huh.

A soft exclamation slipped from his lips. He seemed genuinely impressed.

“If you said that knowing what it truly means... you really are a genius. A prodigy.”

I shrugged.

“I am a prodigy. I’m pretty smart. Grandpa didn’t hint this to me—I thought of it on my own. That’s what you’re asking, right?”

If I hadn’t known better, he would’ve assumed Yoo Seong-pil gave me the idea. That implication was buried in his words.

Kim Hae-ik nodded, as if taken aback.

“You’re right. That’s what I thought—this wasn’t something a kid would normally say. And if it was your grandfather’s idea, I figured it was something he’d naturally pass along to his granddaughter. But... huh. I guess I misjudged him. I might’ve seen him as too cold. Makes me feel a little sorry now.”

He really did have a sharp eye.

“...Actually, you’re not wrong. Grandpa probably was going to suggest something like this. He called it a ‘gift.’ But... a gift can’t be something I already had in mind. So I asked for something else instead.”

A personal secretary, a driver, a bodyguard—those were the minor things I received. They were mine, not Grandpa’s, but they had always been there, so I didn’t feel them as much.

Pity. If I’d known Kim Hae-ik would come find me himself, I could’ve asked for something more valuable.

“...”

He went quiet for a moment, then replied with a slightly complex expression.

His response was wrapped in layers of political speech and polite ambiguity—but I understood perfectly.

“You could study economics just fine without me. In fact... you already seem to understand it better than most adults. Honestly, I don’t understand your true intention.”

He knew I didn’t need a teacher. Was I perhaps trying to sell information about him to my grandfather?

“I only know the basics, really. And... I’m a girl. If I were a boy, maybe it’d be easier, but for girls, it’s harder to seize opportunities. You’re different from the others, though—you know our country isn’t exactly a utopia.”

You’re a liberal, right? You hate authoritarianism and favor openness. I’m naturally someone who has to resist authority, because of the limitations I was born into.

“I don’t know... But life does bring plenty of opportunities. Especially for someone like you—being a chaebol’s kid, you’ll have more chances than most.”

No need to be greedy. You already belong to the privileged class, don’t you?

“Well... I’m only six, so I don’t know much. But for me, every single year matters a lot. If you think about compound interest, the earlier you grab opportunities, the better, right?”

I’m greedy. I want more.

“There’s an old saying—‘A boy with an early light burns out fast.’ From what I see, you’re already a genius. Why are you in such a rush?”

Just take it easy. Stopping at a reasonable point is good for everyone. Why push it?

“Well... In houses with a lot of kids, there’s always fighting, right? Especially at mealtimes. If no grown-ups are there, everyone fights to grab the tastiest dishes first. I just want to eat something good too.”

I—

want to become a chaebol chairman.

“...This little maniac.”

This little maniacal brat.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

***

Chief Secretary for Economic Affairs, Blue House.

Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.

Kim Hae-ik.

The man who steered the entire economy of South Korea stared straight at me.

“Let’s drop the act for a second, Ha-yeon.”

I shrugged and turned to face him boldly. Of course, with my baby-faced appearance, it didn’t look all that cool.

“Were you being serious just now?”

I tilted my head and blinked my wide, innocent eyes.

“Eh? I don’t know what you mean, sir... Why all of a sudden... I just... don’t really understand.”

Nope, not telling you.

What are you gonna do about it if I don’t?

“...”

Kim Hae-ik stared at me for a moment, slightly dumbfounded, then rubbed his forehead. Still, he wasn’t the type to shout at a six-year-old who had saved his life.

“Hmph. Right, right... Almost dying must’ve made me a little jumpy. What am I even doing, seriously... yelling at a little kid...”

For a moment, Kim Hae-ik looked like he was having a crisis of self-awareness.

Teasing an adult with the ‘kid shield’ is actually kind of fun. But maybe I should let up now.

I stuck my tongue out just a little—meh—and then smiled brightly again.

“I was lying earlier. Hehe. But really, it’s tempting, you know? I’ve always thought about it—I want to become someone great, like Grandpa.”

As I casually confessed my ambition, Kim Hae-ik sighed and gently patted my head.

“Phew. You shouldn’t mess with grown-ups like that. How many times are you gonna make me gasp today? Seriously. Looks like the Yoo family’s got themselves a little prodigy. So then, why are you telling me all this? What if I tell someone else?”

“I don’t care if you do. I told you because it doesn’t matter. It’s not like it’s rare for someone in a chaebol family to aim for the chairman’s seat. And anyway, who’s really gonna believe it right now?”

“Hmph. True enough.”

At some point, Kim Hae-ik seemed to have accepted that I had the mental capacity of a fully grown adult. Our conversation grew deeper, even branching into economics and current affairs.

“Hm. But I still think we shouldn’t abandon heavy industry and agricultural support. Even if they’re not high value-added sectors, we still need to be self-sufficient, right?”

“We can just import those. If you ask me, China’s going to grow massively in the 21st century. We’ll probably depend on them a lot.”

“Well, but the commies are a bit...”

.

.

.

“Oh, and... have you really not given up on the Real-Name Financial System? Honestly, with the current regime, it seems impossible.”

“...How do you know that? That kind of info’s only known to ministers and vice ministers. Never mind—of course you’d know somehow. But don’t say that out loud again. You’ll get labeled a subversive.”

“And who are you to talk? You’re the one who openly hates dictatorships. Oh—wait, am I not supposed to say that yet?”

“Ahem. Well, it’s not like the president doesn’t already know. Just don’t say it in public.”

Surprisingly, Kim Hae-ik didn’t seem to carry much prejudice against me.

But then again, like in The Little Prince, adults always like numbers, don’t they?

“Yoo Ha-yeon seems a bit strange. She keeps saying things we don’t understand and acts way too smart.” When people say that, adults never understand what it [N O V E L I G H T] means.

No adult ever says, “Could she be from the future?” or “Maybe she’s a reincarnated soul from a future life.” Instead, they ask:

“What’s her IQ?” “How many books has she read?” “How old is she?”

And when someone finally says, “That Yoo Ha-yeon girl read an original economics textbook in English at age six!” they all clap their hands and say, “What a brilliant prodigy!”

Even Kim Hae-ik—the Blue House’s Chief Secretary for Economic Affairs, a man admired by so many—was still, in the end, just an adult. Which means... he liked geniuses and prodigies.

So much so that he offered to become my personal tutor.

...Now that I didn’t see coming.