52: Chapter 52 The Road to Integration

The integration of Jins Foods was much more difficult than Chairman Wang Shunyi had imagined.

It wasn't a problem with the production lines or the distribution channels; it was the people.

Jins Foods employees had been anxious since the food safety crisis began, and when news of the acquisition spread, it caused an uproar.

One-third of the R&D department left, a quarter of the production department left, and the sales department was the most pragmatic—they followed whoever paid more. Nongshim took the opportunity to poach several veteran salespeople from Jins Foods in the Busan region.

In mid-February, Chairman Wang Shunyi held the first integration meeting at the Jins Foods headquarters.

The meeting room was on the twelfth floor of the Jins Foods building, with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the Han River. The view was much better than in Sunyi's office, but the atmosphere was as cold as a morgue.

The management of Jins Foods sat on one side, and the people from Sunyi sat on the other, separated by an empty table. It felt more like a negotiation than a meeting.

Chairman Wang Shunyi didn't sit at the head table; he pulled up a chair and sat between the two tables.

"Everyone, from today on, Jins Foods and Sunyi are one family. If anyone keeps distinguishing between 'you' and 'me,' then don't bother working here."

His voice wasn't loud, but everyone heard him clearly.

"First, the Jins Foods brand will be retained but repositioned. Second, production lines will be merged, and resources consolidated. Third, sales channels will be integrated and managed uniformly. Fourth, employees will be re-evaluated; the capable will advance, and the incompetent will be let go."

The expressions of a few people on the Jins Foods side changed.

A man in his forties raised his hand; he was the deputy manager of the production department, surnamed Choi, who had worked at Jins Foods for eighteen years.

"President Wang, what are the criteria for the evaluation? Will you be driving away all of us veterans from Jins Foods?"

Chairman Wang Shunyi looked at him.

"Manager Choi, you've worked at Jins Foods for eighteen years; you know the production lines better than anyone. As long as you are capable, I won't drive you away. But if anyone is just coasting, no matter how many years they've worked at Jins Foods, I won't keep them."

Deputy Manager Choi opened his mouth but didn't say anything more.

Kim Dong-hyun sat in the corner, silent from beginning to end.

He was wearing that dark gray suit, his tie tied meticulously, but he looked like he had been hollowed out. His eyes were unfocused; he would occasionally look up at Chairman Wang Shunyi, then lower his head again.

The first step of integration was brand rebranding.

The Jins Foods name had already been ruined, but Chairman Wang Shunyi didn't want to discard it because Jins Foods still had recognition in third- and fourth-tier cities and among elderly consumers.

Park Min-ji and her team conducted consumer research for half a month, and the final proposal was: Jins Foods would be positioned for the mid-range market, focusing on cost-effectiveness; Sunyi would continue to target the high-end market, with the two brands competing in different segments.

"Jins Foods's product line needs to be completely replaced," Park Min-ji said at the marketing meeting.

"The original classic series can keep its recipe, but the packaging, name, and pricing must all be redone. The new series will be called 'Kims Classic.' It sounds simple and not flashy. The price will be set between 1,500 and 2,000, which is 10% to 15% cheaper than Nongshim's low-end products."

Chairman Wang Shunyi flipped through the proposal and nodded.

"Can production keep up?"

Zhang Junhao replied, "The production lines have been adjusted. Jins Foods's own factory has stopped, and all products are being made at the Sunyi factory. The seasoning supply from Gyeongnam Ingredients has also caught up, and the cost is 8% lower than what Jins Foods originally had."

"Good. Launch it at the beginning of March."

On the day the Kims Classic series launched, Chairman Wang Shunyi didn't hold a press conference; he just posted on social media: "Jins Foods is back. It's the same taste, but safer."

Below it was a picture of the new product, with simple packaging, white background with red text, reading "Kims Classic · Korean Spicy Noodles."

In the comments section, some said, "Jins Foods hasn't gone out of business yet?" Others said, "They changed the packaging, I wonder how it tastes," and some who bought it to try posted, "The taste is about the same as before, and the price is cheaper. It's worth buying."

Sales in the first week were average, but they started to rise in the second week.

The reason was simple: it was cheap.

1,500 won per pack, 200 won cheaper than similar products from Nongshim, and 300 won cheaper than Samyang.

Among price-sensitive consumer groups, 200 won is decisive.

Nongshim reacted quickly.

At the end of March, Nongshim announced an investment of 100 billion won for product R&D, channel expansion, and brand promotion.

Park Jung-chul said at the press conference, "Nongshim will continue to lead the Korean instant noodle market and provide consumers with higher-quality products."

A reporter asked if this was targeting Sunyi Foods, and he smiled and said, "Our competitor is the entire market, not any single company."

Chairman Wang Shunyi was eating lunch when he saw the news.

Park Min-ji was sitting opposite him, with a bowl of Kims Classic Seafood Noodles.

She finished the last bite, wiped her mouth, and said, "100 billion, they really have money."

"Having a lot of money doesn't necessarily mean it's useful." Chairman Wang Shunyi put down his phone.

"They invest 100 billion, but what can they actually achieve? New flavors? New packaging? Or a new spokesperson? We can do these things too, and it costs much less."

"Then what do you plan to do?"

"Do what they can't." Chairman Wang Shunyi picked up his chopsticks and picked up a piece of kimchi.

"Low-sodium noodles. Nongshim has been around for so many years; have they ever released a low-sodium product? No. Because they think it won't sell well. But healthy eating is a trend; whoever occupies this market first will have the say."

The R&D for low-sodium noodles was in the hands of Lee Chang-ho.

The difficulty wasn't in reducing the salt—anyone could just add less salt—the difficulty was ensuring the taste didn't become bland after reducing the salt.

Lee Chang-ho tried seventeen different formulas, using kelp powder, shiitake mushroom powder, and yeast extract to replenish the umami. The final formula had 30% less sodium than regular instant noodles, but the umami was not lost.

The price was set at 3,000 won, more expensive than regular noodles but cheaper than the high-end series.

The packaging used light blue, looking very light, with the words "Low Sodium · Light Burden" written on it.

The product launch happened in late May.

Chairman Wang Shunyi didn't promote it overwhelmingly; he first found a few health bloggers on social media to do reviews.

The bloggers' evaluations after eating were surprisingly consistent: "The taste isn't bland, it's better than expected."

One nutritionist even wrote a long article analyzing the nutritional facts label of Sunyi's low-sodium noodles, concluding that "The sodium content is indeed low, making it suitable for people with high blood pressure and those on a diet."

The article was shared thousands of times. In the comments section, some said, "I'll buy it for my parents," and others said, "Finally, there's a healthier instant noodle."

On the day the April financial report came out, Chairman Wang Shunyi was at the factory watching the debugging of the new production line.

Park Min-ji called, her voice very low, but one could tell she was smiling.

"President, the first-quarter revenue was 100 billion, with a net profit of 6 billion, a year-on-year increase of 60%. Our market share has reached 12th place. Including Jins Foods's revenue, the total revenue is 130 billion, and our market share is 10th."

Chairman Wang Shunyi held the phone, watching the noodle cakes sliding rapidly on the conveyor belt.

"Good. Notify everyone, we'll have a celebration party tomorrow."

"One more thing." Park Min-ji paused, "Kim Dong-hyun's secretary just called to say that he is willing to sell his shares."

The next afternoon, Kim Dong-hyun appeared in the Sunyi Foods conference room.

He had lost a lot of weight; his suit hung loosely on him, his tie was still tied perfectly, but his shirt collar was a size too big.

When he entered, he didn't look at anyone, walked straight to sit opposite Chairman Wang Shunyi, took a document out of his briefcase, and placed it on the table.

"President Wang, the 25% shares I hold, at the market price of 500 won per share, total 12.5 billion. If you want them, sign."

Chairman Wang Shunyi didn't answer immediately. He picked up the document, flipped through it once, and then put it down.

"Chairman Kim, have you thought this through?"

"I have." Kim Dong-hyun's voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't had water for a long time, "Jins Foods is no longer the company I founded. I don't have the ability, nor the desire to continue competing with you. I'll sell the shares, and I'll retire."

Chairman Wang Shunyi looked at him. This man, who once sat in the main seat slamming the table, was now like a dying lamp.

"12.5 billion, I accept. But there is one condition: after you retire, you will serve as a consultant for Jins Foods. You don't need to come to work every day, just show up for important occasions."

Kim Dong-hyun was stunned. "Why?"

"Because Jins Foods needs you. Not your management, but your name. Consumers still remember you; you are the symbol of Jins Foods. As long as you are here, Jins Foods is still here."

Kim Dong-hyun lowered his head, silent for a long time. When he looked up again, his eyes were red. "President Wang, I admire you."

On the night the contract was signed, Chairman Wang Shunyi sat in his office and read the document Kim Dong-hyun had signed three times.

12.5 billion, 25% of the shares, plus the 49% previously held, Sunyi Foods' stake in Jins Foods reached 74%. Absolute control.

Zhang Junhao pushed the door open, holding two cans of beer.

He placed one can on Chairman Wang Shunyi's desk, opened the other one for himself, and took a big gulp.

"President, what's next?"

"Go public." Chairman Wang Shunyi opened the beer can; foam gushed out. He took a sip, frowning at the coldness, "Temasek has already set the condition that we must go public next year. We need to prepare."

"Is there enough time?"

"Yes. This year, we'll integrate Jins Foods, clean up the financials, and boost performance. We'll launch the IPO process in the first half of next year."

He leaned back in his chair, looking at the fluorescent light on the ceiling, "If Nongshim wants to fight, we'll fight with them. Once we go public and have more money, it won't be them hitting us anymore."

Zhang Junhao didn't speak, raising his beer can to clink with his. The sound of the aluminum cans colliding was light, but it was very clear in the quiet office.

Outside the window, the night in Seoul was still the same, brightly lit with endless traffic.

The delivery driver downstairs had already finished work; the truck was still parked there, the cargo hold empty, the door open, and the light inside still on.

Chairman Wang Shunyi stood up, walked to the window, finished the beer, crushed the can, and threw it into the trash can.

The sound of the metal can landing was crisp, a thud, like a lid being closed.

He turned around and looked at the vision chart of Sunyi Foods on the wall: "Become Korea's largest food group."

When he drew this chart two years ago, he himself thought it was bragging.

Now, the words were the same, but the person looking at them was different.

Zhang Junhao had already left.

He was the only one left in the office.

The sensor light in the hallway went off and then came back on.

He turned off the lights and walked out; his footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, one by one, steady, like a heartbeat.