79: Chapter 79 Counterattack

In the last week of March, the cherry blossoms in Seoul had not yet bloomed. In the strategic meeting room of Shunyi Foods' headquarters, the curtains were half-drawn, and an organizational chart of Nongshim Foods was projected onto the screen, with red circles marking several key decision nodes. Chairman Wang Shunyi sat in the head seat, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the table in the rhythm of a ticking second hand.

Kim Sang-woo, Director of the Strategic Planning Department, stood before the projection screen, pointing with a laser pointer. "Chairman, Nongshim held an internal strategic meeting in Busan last week. Shin Dong-won presided over it personally, with the theme 'Responding to the Challenge of Shunyi Foods.' Our sources say Shin Dong-won slammed the table at the meeting, questioning his subordinates, 'Why can Shunyi do in three years what Nongshim cannot?'"

Chairman Wang Shunyi's lips twitched slightly. "And then?"

"They plan to launch a healthy low-calorie Shin Ramyun in mid-April, with 320 calories per serving and a price of 4,500 won, which is 400 won cheaper than our low-calorie fire chicken noodles. The main selling point is 'Traditional Shin Ramyun flavor, health without compromising on taste.' The marketing budget has been approved, with a three-pronged approach across TV, outdoor, and social media. It's said to be Nongshim's largest new product promotion in recent years."

The red dot of the laser pointer drew a circle on the screen, enclosing the numbers "4,500." Lee Jung-hoon, the Marketing Director, stared at that number, his brow furrowed into a knot. "A price difference of 400 won—consumers aren't fools. Nongshim is trying to pin us down with price."

Chairman Wang Shunyi flipped open the report in front of him, which contained a comparison table—Nongshim's low-calorie Shin Ramyun versus Shunyi's low-calorie fire chicken noodles, comparing price, calories, and launch date. He closed the report. "They won't win a price war. Nongshim's low-calorie line is an imitation, not an innovation. Once consumers have tried our noodles and then try theirs, their tongues will tell them the difference. Lee Jung-hoon, bring up the consumer evaluation data."

Lee Jung-hoon was already prepared. He projected the data from his tablet onto the big screen—78% of consumers believed the low-calorie fire chicken noodles maintained the spicy flavor of the traditional version, and 85% felt that the low calorie count made it guilt-free to eat. However, in the price column, 42% of people checked 'price is a bit high, but acceptable.' The proportion was less than half.

"The price issue won't be solved by price cuts, but by promotions." Chairman Wang Shunyi's gaze shifted from Lee Jung-hoon to Park Jae-beom. "Buy two get one free, synchronized across convenience stores and e-commerce. Also, set up tasting stations in core business district stores in Seoul, Busan, and Daegu. Arrange for tasters during peak weekend afternoon hours. Let consumers taste it before they buy."

Park Jae-beom, the Sales Director, bowed his head and made notes in his notebook. "The materials for the tasting stations are ready. By this Friday, all three hundred core stores nationwide will be in place. If Nongshim follows suit with tastings, our cost control is better than theirs; we can afford the attrition."

Kim Sang-woo flipped to the last page of the report. "One more thing. Nongshim's low-calorie Shin Ramyun uses domestic soy protein, while our low-calorie fire chicken noodles use imported. There's a significant cost difference. If they push the price below 4,000 won, do we follow?"

Chairman Wang Shunyi looked at him. "We don't follow. Let them push it down. If they drop below 4,000 won, their profit margins will be lower than ours, and they won't last long."

Kim Sang-woo nodded and closed the file.

At 6:30 PM, Chairman Wang Shunyi walked out of the company's main entrance, and the car was already waiting at the door. Park Min-ji sat in the driver's seat, wearing a cream-colored thin sweater, her hair down. The car window was cracked open, and the evening breeze blew her hair. She didn't honk or call; she just waited. He opened the door and sat inside, only asking 'Where are we going?' as he buckled his seatbelt.

"You'll know when we get there."

The car wove through the streets and alleys of Seoul, driving from Gangnam to Gangbuk, from the bustling to the quiet. Finally, it stopped in front of an old building—red brick exterior, three stories high, with a dark brown wooden door and a handle polished smooth. An old bronze plaque hung over the lintel, engraved with the words 'Seoul Cultural Center,' the strokes already somewhat blurred.

"I've been here before." Chairman Wang Shunyi looked at the bronze plaque.

Park Min-ji turned off the engine and looked at him. "When?"

"A long time ago. The year I first came to Seoul, the school organized a visit, and I just took a quick glance. Back then, I felt like a place like this had nothing to do with me." He didn't continue. He opened the car door and got out.

The concert began at 7:30 PM, featuring Mozart and Beethoven. A string quartet, with Mozart's K.387 and Beethoven's Op.59 No.1 on the program. He didn't know much about classical music, but as the sound of the strings flowed from the instruments, he felt the things in his head being emptied out bit by bit. It wasn't a deliberate clearing; it was as if once he was filled with sound, nothing else could squeeze in.

Beside him, Park Min-ji had her eyes closed, lightly tapping the beat on her thigh, occasionally nodding slightly with the melody. She had studied piano before and later stopped, but her ear for music hadn't gone dull.

After the two-hour performance ended, the two of them walked out of the center. The night breeze in Seoul was no longer that cold, and there was a faint floral scent in the air, though he couldn't tell if it was cherry blossoms or some other tree blooming. He walked on her left, half a step behind.

"Minji. Thank you for bringing me here."

She tucked her hands into her coat pockets, not looking at him. "You've been too tense lately. It's good to relax; it helps with work too."

They walked to the car; she unlocked it, and he opened the door. "I'll drive you back. I haven't driven much today, and I haven't been drinking."

She glanced at him, handed over the keys, and walked around to the passenger seat.

The car stopped downstairs at Park Min-ji's apartment. As she unbuckled her seatbelt, she suddenly said, "Don't take the Nongshim matter too much to heart. Back when you started from a stall in the Dongdaemun Night Market, no one thought you could win. Shin Dong-won slamming the table shows he's anxious. If he's anxious, you've already won."

She got out of the car and went upstairs. The lights in the stairwell lit up for three floors and then went out.

Chairman Wang Shunyi sat in the car, pulled out his phone, and checked the sales backend. Sales of low-calorie fire chicken noodles had risen another six percent today. He put his phone back in his pocket and started the car.

In the rearview mirror, the lights of Namsan Tower flickered in the night sky.