Chapter 280. Shareholders’ Meeting (8)

Eun-Ho had long wondered where the money came from and where it truly went.

“On behalf of the labor union, we request the salary calculation standards, profit margins by business sector, and financial statements detailing expenses, including labor costs.”

To figure out where to begin, he had to know the company’s assets, liabilities, revenue, and expenses. Therefore, he had requested the accounting data in the name of the labor union.

The moment he became the acting chairman, the first thing he reviewed was the financial statements and cash flow reports submitted by the accounting team. However, the situation had been far worse than he expected.

“Hyung!”

“Yes, Ji-Woong,” Eun-Ho had replied.

“I went through what you gave me and something feels off.”

“What is it?”

“Normally, costs decrease as a business grows, unless you’re pouring insane amounts into advertising or marketing. But here, the expenses are way too high compared to revenue.”

The company had a warped structure because the revenue was rising, but costs were rising even faster.

“First of all, the asset lifespan is standardized to three years. That’s way too short.”

“Isn’t it usually around five to seven years?” Eun-Ho had asked.

“It depends, but realistically, you don’t just throw out newly purchased equipment after three years, right?”

“That’s true.”

“But that’s exactly what’s happening here. So the depreciation costs are massively inflated across the entire company.”

The company that supposedly dealt with eternity discarded its assets after a mere three years.

“And after using assets, you’re supposed to sell them off and make a return, right? But there’s no record of any gains from asset disposals here.”

“That means...”

“It’s one of two things. Either they scrapped everything after just three years, or they sold it off quietly.”

Eun-Ho didn’t believe the former chairman, who was ruthless as he had been, would discard perfectly usable assets just to buy new ones.

So they sold them off behind the scenes, Eun-Ho concluded.

They had been stockpiling assets just to sell them off later and pocket the money.

“Lastly, there’s way too much non-operating income.”

“Non-operating income?”

“Yeah. This looks like one of those companies that puts on a legitimate front, but actually makes its cash through shady deals behind the scenes.”

“I see.”

On top of that, there was the money earned from the arena, the funds that didn’t even appear on the books. When all of that was taken into account, the amount siphoned away was astronomical.

“So that’s where all that money went,” Eun-Ho said.

The moment he saw the confidential dividend records, everything clicked.

***

“You’ve been stuffing yourselves quite well, haven’t you?” Eun-Ho asked the shareholders coldly.

“Fifth! What is that brat talking about? I have no idea what he means!”

“I was just thinking the same. Whatever he saw, it must have been a misunderstanding!”

A misunderstanding? Then I will just have to explain it to them, Eun-Ho thought.

“Dividends are the profits distributed to shareholders after running the company. That’s correct, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes...”

“But here’s the thing.”

Gulp.

The sound of someone swallowing nervously echoed as Eun-Ho spread out the documents he had prepared. “Did you really have to manipulate the profits just to take more?”

- Dividend Indicators and History

- Net Profit: 268,290,000 Points

- Earnings Per Share: 4,878 Points

- Dividend Per Share: 700 Points

Then, he placed it side by side with the records he had retrieved from their offices. “The official dividend per share is 700 Points.”

- Net Profit: 433,290,000 Points

- Earnings Per Share: 7,878 Points

- Dividend Per Share: 3,700 Points

“But according to your personal records, it’s five times higher. The transferred amounts match too.”

“We know nothing about that! Isn’t that right, Eighth?”

“Exactly! If the company sent more than it should have, what are we supposed to do about it?”

Ah. So that’s their angle, Eun-Ho thought.

“The official accounting reports were sent along with it, though.” He tapped the document. “Here. Records of transmission.”

“T-that’s!”

The fifth and eighth shareholders exchanged glances. The others were likely scrambling through telepathic communication as well.

Realizing the urgency of the situation, they quickly settled on a response.

“We didn’t know! We never saw it!”

“We receive piles of reports every month! Who has the time to compare every single one?”

Judging by their sudden aggression, they had decided to feign ignorance.

“So you’re saying you knew everything, kept your mouths shut, but it’s still not your fault?” Eun-Ho asked.

“It’s not about fault. You could say it was more of a mistake caused by a minor misunderstanding!”

What nonsense.

However, there was a reason they were pushing such absurd excuses.

They’re trying to sweep it under the rug.

Even so, they were still shareholders. Eun-Ho couldn’t simply harm people who held equity in the company, nor could he punish them under company rules when they weren’t even employees. At least, that was how things usually worked.

“Enough with the nonsense,” he said flatly.

This was, after all, a world where money equaled power.

What Eun-Ho meant was simple. “Hand it over.”

“What are you talking about?”

“All the illegal dividends you’ve taken so far.” Eun-Ho met their eyes. “Pay it back. Every last bit.”

He intended to strip that power away from them.

“Fifth shareholder,” he continued, turning his gaze, “you acquired your shares five hundred years ago and have been collecting dividends ever since. The total amount you’ve received is... let’s see...”

The fifth shareholder’s face was drained of color. “W-wait! This is too complicated to sort out here. Let’s set a proper time and discuss this slowly—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Eun-Ho cut him off. “I’ve already done the calculations.”

“Already?!”

Of course he had. Why would he give them time to tamper with the numbers again?

“The total dividends you’ve received over five hundred years amount to 21.164 billion Points,” Eun-Ho said calmly. “Out of that, 17.16 billion points were obtained illegally.”

“Hieek?”

Eun-Ho had prepared everything in advance, such as the full dividend histories of all ten major shareholders, including the former chairman.

“As for the third shareholder,” he continued, “you’ve held your shares for a thousand years, so you’ll need to return 71.2 billion. The fourth owes 27.7 billion, the sixth 5.4 billion...”

“What?!”

“How do you even have my records?!”

He had only retrieved physical documents from the fifth and eighth shareholders’ offices. However, the rest were simple calculations based on share ratios.

“Wait! Hold on! What kind of nonsense have you been spouting this whole time?!”

“Even if what you’re saying were true, how can you demand we return all of it?!”

“Then shall we expose the accounting fraud, scrap the company entirely, and start over?” Eun-Ho asked coldly. “Invalidate all your equity investments while we’re at it?”

The room fell silent. Every voice that had been shouting moments ago died at once. All eyes turned toward one man, their leader.

The Master of the Snowy Mountains let out a low hum. “Heh...”

His voice echoed as if it came from deep within a cavern. It sounded like laughter, yet there was nothing light or pleasant about it. The air grew damp and cold, like the stillness before dawn after a storm.

“As expected, you’re no ordinary man.”

“I don’t usually get called incompetent,” Eun-Ho replied evenly.

The man he faced was easily two or three times his size. Despite the man’s hearty tone, his eyes were as sharp as a honed blade.

Eun-Ho met his gaze without flinching.

At last, the man said again, “The general assembly will be canceled.”

“M-my lord!”

It was a clear step back.

“Since you’ve come all this way, let’s speak openly instead.”

“What is it you want to discuss?” Eun-Ho asked.

“I understand the ideals you’re pursuing... but...” The Master of the Snowy Mountains wasn’t just conceding, but also demanding. “In any business, light and shadow coexist.”

“Is that so?”

“The brighter the light, the darker the shadow it casts. We can become that shadow, the one that supports you from behind.”

They had chosen to negotiate.

“Think carefully about the countless people you are now responsible for. Without our capital, how do you intend to feed and clothe them?”

It wasn’t just persuasion, but one laced with threat.

“The lord speaks the truth. Do you have the money? The experience? A business runs on capital.”

“We’re saying this for the good of the company.”

“So you’re saying business runs on capital?” Eun-Ho repeated.

“Exactly. Make the wise choice.”

They weren’t wrong. A business did require money, which was precisely why he was here.

“I’m securing that capital right now,” Eun-Ho said.

“What do you mean?”

“The illegal dividends you’ve all been collecting, a total of 144.738 billion points.” He looked at them one by one, smiling faintly. “That should make for a pretty solid financial foundation, don’t you think? Wouldn’t you agree, my esteemed shareholders?”

His words flowed like water. Even after that, his arguments kept crashing down like relentless waves.

“According to Clause Thirteen of Article Nine in the stock purchase agreement you signed eight hundred seventy-one years ago...”

Eun-Ho even dug up clauses from contracts written centuries ago and used them as cold, hard facts to batter them into submission. There wasn’t a single person among the shareholders who could stand against that.

“Well, it seems you all understand now, so I’ll wrap things up here,” he said.

“Yes! Please, just stop already!” one cried out.

“I’ll send the detailed breakdown through an official document,” Eun-Ho said.

“There’s more detail?!”

“For now, you’ve agreed to cancel the general assembly, so that’s settled. Next...”

The major shareholders were thrown into complete chaos.

“Is he really trying to squeeze every last coin out of us?”

“I have no idea! I don’t even have enough to live on!”

If there was any small consolation, it was that none of them held much cash on hand.

“Well, what can we do if we don’t have the money?”

“By the way, Eighth, you liquidated some land recently, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about? I know nothing about that!”

“Shall we start with the fifth shareholder then?” Eun-Ho said.

The fifth shareholder, the one whose office had already been ransacked, was naturally the first target.

Holding a 5.2% stake and having pocketed 17.1 billion in illicit dividends, the man known as the “Sickle of the Waning Moon” frowned deeply, his hooked nose twitching.

“I don’t have it,” he said stiffly. “Even if I wanted to return it, what can I do if I don’t have the money?”

He had just spent most of his cash acquiring a new resort.

How fortunate! the Sickle of the Waning Moon thought.

Outwardly, he put on a grim expression and lamented as if he were in despair, “I don’t even have five hundred million left in cash. What am I supposed to do?”

Seventeen billion? Who in their right mind would hand over that much just because someone asked? If I negotiate it down to one or two billion, that should be enough.

Surely, even this arrogant brat had expected as much.

“Five hundred million in cash, huh? Well, I suppose that can’t be helped.” Eun-Ho nodded calmly. “Let’s start with that five hundred million then.”

The fifth shareholder felt reassured. “Yes, exactly. Take that for now, and we can discuss the rest slowly,”

However, the situation took an unexpected turn.

“The remainder will be paid in real estate,” Eun-Ho added.

“What?!”

“There’s a multiplex building you own at the Bingbing Intersection in Sector Four. Its market value is 16.6 billion.”

The fifth shareholder’s face stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“Summon,” Eun-Ho said.

The man’s face froze completely. “W-wait!”

“Here’s the transfer contract.” Eun-Ho held out a document. “I’ve already filled everything out. Just sign it.”

The moment the fifth shareholder saw the paper, his lips twisted, and his entire face began to tremble.

“As for the remaining sixty million...”

“You’re taking that too?!” he shouted.

“I heard Sector Four’s specialty is Fortified Wine,” Eun-Ho said casually. “Send over a top-tier brand, and that should cover it.”

His legs gave out, and he staggered. “Y-you!”

However, not a single person stepped forward to help him.

“Then next up is—” Eun-Ho began.

“W-wait! Let the sixth go first!” one shouted.

“What nonsense! The ninth owes the least! Start with him!” another snapped.

The shareholders were all pale, their minds racing as they frantically calculated their losses.

I need to find a way out!

Stall for time. Buy time and figure something out!

Desperate thoughts filled their heads.

“Oh, looks like we’re short on time,” Eun-Ho said lightly. “Let’s just do this all at once.”

Swoosh—!

With a bright smile, Eun-Ho unfurled the screen he had prepared. “These are the amounts each of you needs to return. If you don’t have cash on hand, I’ve listed transferable assets including buildings, treasures, and even regional specialties. So feel free to refer to that.”

The shareholders’ jaws dropped.

“When did you even check the market value of my buildings?!”

“Not my resort! Absolutely not!”

“Take your time,” Eun-Ho said calmly. “I’ll wait.”

While they stared at the screen as if their eyes would fall out, Eun-Ho casually turned to look out the window.

Creak—

Muttering something about the air being stuffy, Eun-Ho even opened it wide before returning.

“What’s this guy doing?” someone muttered under their breath.

“Well, if you insist, I can accept installment payments over the next hundred years,” Eun-Ho said.

“I-installments? You’re serious?” one asked, hope flickering.

“Of course. But the interest rate will be thirty percent annually. There’s risk involved, after all. If that works for you, we can proceed that way.”

You vicious bastard!

The shareholders were rendered speechless.

What kind of monster is this?!

Meticulous and utterly ruthless!

They could only scream internally because what choice did they have?

Eun-Ho held out a stock transfer agreement in one hand and a property transfer contract in the other. “Pick one.”

“I’ll transfer the building,” one finally muttered.

“Good choice,” Eun-Ho replied with a nod.

To the shareholders, company shares were a cash cow, an endless source of income that required no effort. In terms of value, they were worth astronomical sums.

“My building!”

“Are we really supposed to hand everything over like this?!”

Yet, their assets were just as precious. In the end, there was only one option left.

“We strike.”

“Agreed.”

They decided to attack Eun-Ho. The Master of Snowy Mountains freezing Eun-Ho was to be the signal.

“You saw how fast he moved earlier. Don’t give him even a moment’s opening.”

If all nine of them rushed him at once, not even the god of speed could escape.

“One... two...”

They stared greedily at the back of Eun-Ho’s head as he calmly organized the documents, including papers that would soon be nothing more than scraps.

“I’ll take some of these snacks and tea as well,” Eun-Ho said casually.

Even now, he packed away desserts without a care, as if unaware of what was about to happen.

“Now!”

A violent gale surged. Then, the frost of the snowy mountains rushed toward him, freezing the very air. The cold was so intense it felt as if it would freeze their souls.

Craaaack—!

Nine figures lunged at the frozen statue. Blades flashed, and lethal energy surged through them.

The frozen figure shattered, breaking apart into chunks of ice that scattered across the ground.

“We got him!”

“It’s over!”

They stomped on the shattered remains, crushing the icy fragments beneath their feet.

“That’s what you get for acting so arrogant! You should’ve known better than to come here!”

“What about the contracts?”

“What about them? They’re frozen solid anyway!”

Laughter burst through the frozen hall.

Just then, someone asked, piercing through their minds like a nail driven into wood, “Huh? Why is the acting chairman holding a teapot?”

Their eyes turned to the broken arm lying on the ground—the one still clutching a teapot. Long strands of hair were frozen into the ice.

“Ah.”

A voice came from behind them, so they spun around.

“Seems like you all wasted your energy for nothing,” Eun-Ho said.

“But how?!”

Outside the open window, there was a massive black bird, large enough to blot out the sky. A young girl sat atop it, munching on snacks with a crunch. Eun-Ho stood beside her, fanning himself lazily with the stack of contracts. He was completely unharmed.

“Huh?!”

“How dare you!”

“Stop right there! If you don’t, we’ll kill you!”

Eun-Ho grinned. “Thanks for the hospitality.”