The lobby was vast, marble-floored, and utterly silent. A crystal chandelier, weighing two tons, hung over an empty reception desk. The flower arrangements were wilting; the florists had been furloughed weeks ago.
Kang Min-jun walked through the revolving doors. The squeak of the mechanism echoed like a gunshot in a tomb. He wasn't wearing a suit today. He wore a mask and casual clothes—the uniform of the work-from-home era.
A lone concierge ran up to him, bowing nervously behind a plastic shield. "Sir, the hotel is currently operating at limited capacity. The restaurants are closed. Are you checking in?"
"No," Min-jun said, pulling down his mask slightly to reveal his face. "I'm here to inspect the property."
The concierge blinked. "Inspect?"
"I own the building," Min-jun said softly. "Call your CEO."
Executive Office (22nd Floor).
Jin Hyuk-jae looked like a man who was shrinking inside his own clothes. His suit was unpressed. There were dark circles under his eyes that no amount of concealer could hide. On his desk lay a stack of unpaid invoices: Electricity, Water, Staff Insurance.
"You're early," Hyuk-jae said, not standing up. "Rent isn't due until the 1st."
Min-jun sat on the sofa, crossing his legs. He looked around the opulent office. "I'm not here for the rent, Hyuk-jae. I'm here because you fired the maintenance team. The HVAC system in the lobby is making a noise. As the landlord, I have an interest in preserving the asset value."
"I didn't fire them," Hyuk-jae gritted his teeth. "I put them on rotational leave. We have 2% occupancy. Why do I need to cool an empty lobby?"
"Because if the pipes rust, it costs more to fix later. But that's always been your problem, hasn't it? Solving today's problem by creating tomorrow's disaster."
Min-jun stood up and walked to the window. Below, the streets of Seoul were sparse. But the roads were filled with delivery trucks. Blue trucks. White trucks. Motorcycles weaving through traffic.
"Look at them," Min-jun pointed. "The world has stopped moving, but the boxes are flying."
"Hermes," Hyuk-jae spat the name. "I hear your logistics company is drowning in orders."
"We are," Min-jun turned back. "Coupang, Market Kurly, Naver Shopping. Volume is up 300%. The 'Untact' economy is printing money. While you are sitting here counting dust bunnies, Hermes is delivering the toilet paper and instant rice that keep this city alive."
Hyuk-jae slammed his hand on the desk. "What do you want, Min-jun? Did you come here to gloat? To remind me that my hotel is a corpse and your delivery app is a god?"
"I came because you sent a letter to Nemesis Capital yesterday."
Min-jun pulled a folded paper from his pocket.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
[Request for Rent Abatement due to Force Majeure] Requesting a 50% reduction in monthly rent for April-June 2020.
Hyuk-jae looked away, his face flushing. "It's standard. The government encouraged landlords to help tenants. The 'Good Landlord' movement."
"I'm not a 'Good Landlord', Hyuk-jae. I'm a hedge fund."
"The hotel has zero revenue! If you demand full rent, we default. Then you have to evict us. Who are you going to lease it to in the middle of a pandemic? A ghost?"
Min-jun smiled. "That's a valid point. Vacancy is a risk."
He walked over to the desk and placed the letter down.
"I will grant the abatement. 50% off for three months."
Hyuk-jae looked up, shocked. "You... you will?"
"On one condition."
"What condition?"
"You turn the banquet hall and the underground parking lot into a fulfillment center."
"What?"
"Hermes is overflowing. We need space. Your hotel is empty. Your parking lot is empty. I want to use the Grand Ballroom as a sorting hub for the Jung-gu district. And the parking lot for the truck fleet."
Hyuk-jae stood up, trembling with rage. "This is a 5-star hotel! You want to turn my ballroom—where presidents have dined—into a warehouse for cardboard boxes?"
"Presidents aren't dining here anymore, Hyuk-jae. Rats are."
Min-jun’s voice hardened.
"It's a simple trade. You give me the space, I give you the rent cut. You survive. Or, you refuse, I evict you, and I turn the whole building into a warehouse anyway. Your choice, Tenant."
Hyuk-jae stared at Min-jun. He imagined the humiliation. Delivery drivers tramping through his lobby. Conveyor belts on his velvet carpets. But he looked at the unpaid invoices.
"Fine," Hyuk-jae whispered. "Take the ballroom. But use the service entrance. Don't let the guests see."
"What guests?" Min-jun asked.
April 20, 2020. Hermes Logistics HQ. Guro Digital Complex.
"It's beautiful chaos," Oh Jae-il shouted over the noise of the control room.
The main screen showed the live traffic of the Hermes network. Daily Orders: 120,000. On-Time Delivery: 94%.
The system was straining, but holding. The "Micro-Fulfillment" strategy using gas stations had saved them. And now, with the addition of "Dark Stores" (like the Daegwang Hotel Ballroom), they were managing the surge.
"We are profitable," Jae-il grabbed Min-jun’s shoulder. "Min-jun, look at the P&L. For the first time in five years, we are actually making money on operations. Net profit!"
Min-jun looked at the spreadsheet. April Net Profit: +1.5 Billion KRW.
It wasn't huge compared to his crypto wealth, but it was significant. It proved the model worked at scale. Hermes wasn't just a burn-pit for VC money anymore. It was a real business.
"The IPO," Min-jun said.
"What?"
"We start preparing for the IPO. Not now. But in 2021. The market loves tech. They love 'Untact'. If we list Hermes next year, we can get a valuation of 3 Trillion Won."
Jae-il gulped. "3 Trillion? I own 5%... that's..."
"150 Billion Won. You can finally buy a house, Jae-il."
Min-jun walked to his desk. He opened his personal trading account. The Donghak Ant Movement was in full swing. Samsung Electronics had bounced from 42,000 to 50,000. Kakao had gone from 130,000 to 180,000.
His 100 Billion Won "Dip Buy" was now worth 140 Billion Won.
"The liquidity is hitting the system," Min-jun muttered.
He opened a different tab. CoinMarketCap. Bitcoin: $7,200. May 2020 Halving: 20 Days away.
The stock market was recovering. The real economy was dying. But the crypto market... it was coiling. Paul Tudor Jones. Michael Saylor. The institutional herd was sniffing around.
"Grandpa," Min-jun texted. "Get the Ledger from the bank box. We need to update the firmware."
The Era of Unicorns was here. But the Era of Mania was just around the corner.
[TRANSACTION LOG]
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Date: April 15, 2020
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Operational Action: Converted Daegwang Hotel Ballroom into Hermes Logistics Hub (Dark Store).
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Cost: Rent Abatement (Loss of ~2 Billion KRW in rental income).
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Benefit: Solved logistical bottleneck in Central Seoul. Increased Hermes capacity by 15%.
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Portfolio Status:
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Equity (Stocks): +40% from March lows.
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Real Estate: Distressed Asset (Hotel) stabilized via repurposing.
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Cash Flow: Hermes turned positive.
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