I Became the Youngest Daughter of a Chaebol Family-Chapter 112: Travel Training (7)

I first heard of the French president’s death not from the French press—but from Korean news.

—“French President Mitterrand, who visited Korea a few months ago and agreed to return the Oegyujanggak texts, has passed away. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, in its official statement of condolences, confirmed that the President himself will attend the funeral...”

—Beep.

“...Wait a second.”

I had been casually flipping through domestic news while enjoying my downtime when the shocking breaking news appeared.

To confirm the facts, I quickly called the secretary’s office.

“Hey, send me the French newspapers and some of the local news reports by fax. Also get me a list of the top presidential candidates over there.”

—“Yes, understood.”

“....”

Rustle.

I threw the clothes I’d been wearing onto the bed and exhaled. This was the first major variable I’d encountered in a while—one wrong decision could lead to significant losses, so I had to stay sharp.

“Right. I knew something like this would happen. Ha-yeon, let’s get it together. Let’s... do this right.”

I stared into the mirror with wide eyes. A stunning woman with slightly bloodshot eyes stared back.

Good. Still beautiful today.

Seeing the soft curves of my body helped calm me. The pounding of my heart began to settle, and the chill that had splashed across my mind gave way to cold, calculated thinking.

[Mitterrand [N O V E L I G H T] Dies Suddenly! France in Political Turmoil...]

[Senate President René Monory Assumes Interim Powers... Socialist Party in Chaos]

—Splash.

Leaning back in the bathtub, I skimmed the organized news reports.

Yes, in France, when the president dies, the Senate president temporarily assumes executive authority. I remembered the same thing happening twenty years ago in France.

But this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not at this point in time. freewebnσvel.cøm

“...You’re terrifying, miss. You didn’t do something weird to President Mitterrand when he visited Korea, did you?”

Seo Ji-yeon pressed on my shoulders as she tended to my bath.

“I wasn’t even in Korea then. Don’t talk nonsense.”

I stiffened. Scenarios of what might unfold in France raced through my mind.

‘Opportunity or disaster...?’

If early elections were held two years ahead of schedule—who would win? Originally, the Republican Party had won, but...

The world’s unpredictable. Especially in something as massive as a presidential election.

“The Prime Minister’s plan is screwed now...”

Tch. This is a headache.

The President’s dead—there’s no one left to take responsibility. Well, I suppose we could try pinning everything on the dead man, but...

Could that even work? Public sympathy tends to surge when a politician dies.

“We could spin it like this! ‘The late President was already looking frail during his visit... it’s his own fault for neglecting his health.’ That kind of thing.”

“....”

That’s... a stretch.

***

France’s political chaos didn’t settle with time. On the contrary, as the election neared, it only grew more explosive—like a wildfire.

Blame the Prime Minister, blame the President... So who’s running for president now? How will they fix the recession...?

[Prime Minister Édouard Balladur Clashes with Jacques Chirac... Republican Party Divided]

[Socialist Lionel Jospin Announces Candidacy... “I am Mitterrand’s heir”]

The Crédit Lyonnais scandal? Naturally buried. Understandable, given the circumstances, but still...

“Well, I got what I wanted.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

As political instability deepened, France’s sovereign bond yields rose—and with my short position on French government bonds, I earned a massive return.

It wasn’t the future I had predicted, but it was a trajectory I had expected. The difference was that this time, the chaos arose organically without any direct meddling from me.

“Who do you think will win?”

It was a question from Lee Si-hyun, whom I hadn’t seen in a while. The matter was too sensitive and important, so we met in person—in Vladivostok.

She’d been complaining about wiretaps lately... I felt a little bad. It must be exhausting, having no privacy.

I answered calmly. Even if my prediction was slightly off, it was fine with Si-hyun.

“Probably Jacques Chirac. Jospin doesn’t have the momentum yet. Balladur is... the next best shot.”

“...So you don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

Saying the top 1st, 2nd, or even 3rd polling candidate might win the election means nothing at all.

Obviously, one of the top three will win.

In the original timeline, Chirac became president. Balladur and Jospin both had enough credentials to reach the presidency, but they ended their careers as Prime Ministers.

‘It’s kind of surreal seeing these historical figures in real life.’

I don’t know much about French politics, but I know the major names. It’s ridiculous to be in finance and not know who the President of France is.

Mitterrand ruled for 14 years, Chirac for 12. Their names were familiar. Even though Mitterrand only managed 12 years before dying now, he’s still France’s longest-serving president.

“Then let me rephrase. Who do you want to win?”

“A sharp question.”

I said that and sifted through my memory.

On the left, Jospin. On the right, both Balladur and Chirac.

Balladur’s recent move to shift blame to the Socialist Party by stepping back for a bit—that had been pleasing to me at the time.

But now? At the finish line, when he should’ve kept running, he chose to stop and catch his breath.

“Might actually prefer the Socialist Jospin. He’s an old-school leftist, so he’s not fond of neoliberalism. Chirac, when he was Prime Minister, pushed hard on privatization, and the backlash was severe.”

When Chirac was Prime Minister, he even privatized public broadcasting—one of the most aggressive neoliberal moves. That’s why Balladur became PM instead of Chirac, even though Chirac was the Republican Party’s frontrunner.

That move had burned too many bridges.

In the end, Chirac took a more centrist path as president—but who knows what he’s thinking now?

“Looks like they want to let the Socialists win, ruin the economy, and then blame it all on them.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Exactly. And now I don’t even need to touch it.”

With the unexpected election taking center stage, the liquidation of Crédit Lyonnais had been pushed aside. A terrible outcome, since this was the moment when quick cuts and accountability were needed.

I doubt they’ll recover even thirty percent of the taxes sunk into that mess.

It’ll go down as a textbook case of how not to do a bailout.

“Understood. Then what should we do about the oil exports to Europe? We’ve halted them for now, blaming Yeltsin, but...”

Si-hyun had been selling at a loss, so halting sales would normally be the right move, but...

“No, keep selling even at a loss. I’ll cover the difference. Until the business gets properly established, price war losses are just part of the process.”

“...Got it.”

She checked off her notes with her usual emotionless eyes.

—Scratch scratch.

“Anything else you want to assign? I’ve sent quite a bit of material on the Russian situation.”

“Not really. As long as we grow power without birthing a dictator, that’s good enough. That’s democracy, right?”

If a dictator rises, the political risk becomes too great.

“...Well, that’s true.”

I gently held Si-hyun’s chin and looked into her eyes.

“Why? Got something you want to do?”

“....”

She looked away. Maybe she didn’t want to say.

“Ooh, are you seeing someone?”

“...No. It’s nothing. It’s just... lately I haven’t had many orders from you. I guess... I feel a little lonely? No, not that. Just... kind of left out? At this rate, I don’t know if I’m your secretary or a Russian oligarch.”

Normally, the one holding the power is the one in the back—but her faith in me was touching.

I grinned and kissed her cheek.

“No need to worry. I didn’t realize my Si-hyun liked getting orders. Alright, I’ll start giving them more often, okay?”

With a conflicted look, Si-hyun pulled away and rubbed her cheek, grumbling.

“Why do I feel like I’ve been played...? I feel like a voluntary slave. Not that it’s that different.”

Hehe.

I hugged her tightly with a warm smile. It felt nice, comforting.

“Next time, let’s go to a good restaurant together. Last time we were in France, we didn’t get to eat properly, remember? This time we can try wine-based dishes—maybe even ortolan.”

“I’m not exactly eager to eat that cruel dish... But yes, French cuisine is delicious.”

That’s the point—it’s delicious. Even Mitterrand sought it out before his death. It’s the pinnacle of French culinary culture.

“I’m a gourmand, you know. Foie gras is easy to find even in Korea, but ortolan? That’s tough. Our chef’s Italian, so he’s not good with French dishes...”

We chatted idly, about things that had nothing to do with serious politics or economic turmoil.

.

.

.

“So, when do you plan to go?”

I smiled sweetly.

“After everything’s done. Maybe in a year? You can wait that long, right?”

“...Yes. I’ll look forward to it.”

Si-hyun said that and stepped out of the room.

—Click.

As the door shut and the hotel room cooled slightly, I folded the newspaper and set it on the desk.

“Whew, that’s done. All the annoying parts are over. I’ll sort out the rest once the new president’s elected. I’ll contact the Alpha Fund and tell them to close all positions...”

My aching head began calculating again, as hundreds of millions of dollars prepared to sweep through France and the U.S.

Rehearsal was over.

All that remained was to enter another live performance—and wait for the outcome.

The dot-com bubble was just around the corner.

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