I Became the Youngest Daughter of a Chaebol Family Chapter 1: I Became a Chaebol Third Generation

I was reborn as the youngest granddaughter of a chaebol family.

I could more or less guess the reason. One night, while browsing forums, I got completely sucked into a character build image that caught my eye.

I left a comnt asking for the original source... and got sent a suspicious link.

I’m pretty sure I had a strong sense of regret right afterward, but everything after that is fuzzy.

Damn. I really shouldn’t have clicked that shady link.

***

But there’s a problem—I don’t really rember what traits I picked.

I’m sure it’s not a fantasy setting. It’s a world completely identical to modern-day reality, so I doubt there’ll be any fantasy drift like random gates opening. That’s a relief, since I can still use my future knowledge.

Oh, right. Immortality—yeah, I definitely picked that. That’s the most basic of the basics. It might sound like a fantasy trait, but let’s be real—what red-blooded human doesn’t instinctively pick immortality?

I think I also picked perfect mory. After being reincarnated, I could recall everything crystal clear. Strangely enough, I couldn’t rember exactly what traits I selected or even much about my past identity. I probably chose so kind of debuff like that—sothing that makes more imrsed in this current life. It’s usually classified as a flaw, so I probably got more points for it.

Anyway.

Born in 1978. The youngest granddaughter of the founder of the Daehwa Group, which ranked second or third in the business world in my past life. Yoo Ha-yeon.

That’s who I am now.

“Uunngh...”

Streeetch.

My chubby, squishy cheeks stretched as I poked at them. The cute little girl in the mirror widened her eyes, seemingly fascinated as she touched her own face.

Black hair. Black eyes. Aside from being a little pretty, she looked like an ordinary human girl.

Squint.

Even when I scowled, my five-year-old face was still hopelessly adorable.

I looked cute enough to bite, but knowing that kid was just made it impossible to stay calm.

‘Guess I’ll read a book.’

Thunk.

I used my soft, pudgy hands to flip through a thick textbook. The ssy print felt overwhelming, but luckily my brain had gotten a boost during the TS.

Rustle, rustle.

“Hmm... not this one either... I thought it’d be in Dad’s study, but there’s nothing good here.”

Thud.

‘I’ve read all of these already.’

I closed the book with a small sigh.

The world was incredibly boring to now. It was still the 80s, and everything was so different from what I rembered.

At first, I’d gone through TS, ended up in a rich household, and figured I’d follow the usual route—streaming or sothing. I didn’t even realize I’d been born into a chaebol family yet.

But it turned out... it was still the 1980s. And in the 80s, there was no internet.

I an, seriously. No internet. My mories of the 20th century were already fading, and now I was expected to live without it?

Sure, there were computers, technically. But considering the first all-in-one personal computer ca out in ‘77, we still had a long way to go.

“Ugh—hup.”

I shoved aside the book I’d been reading and pulled out another one. This ti, it was on economics.

Thump.

The book was way too heavy for a five-year-old, but given my ntal age, it was manageable.

“Oh my, young miss. You really like books, don’t you?”

My nanny, who had taken care of since my mother passed away, smiled as she saw .

To her, it probably looked like I was just playing with a book way too complex for a child to understand. Either that, or she assud I was a precocious kid acting out from emotional neglect.

Neither of those things were true, but...

“...Huh? Yeah! I like them!”

I waved her off with a cheerful, childish tone. I’d gotten pretty good at this act, living like this.

She looked at with a pitiful expression.

“...Miss Ha-yeon. Your father will be ho soon, so you should co out of the study before then, alright?”

“Dad’s not coming today either. I know. Honestly, it’s better if he doesn’t co...”

I replied bluntly. There wasn’t a single corner of this family I felt emotionally attached to.

Whenever he did show up, all he did was beat for the most ridiculous reasons. Why the hell is Mom’s death my fault?

“...I’m sorry, young miss.”

I shook my head and buried myself back in the book. The content itself wasn’t too difficult, but most of the academic texts were in English, which made it a bit tough.

We’re still over ten years away from the first Korean translation of Mankiw’s Principles of Economics. The 80s really were a miserable ti.

...Haa. Honestly, this wasn’t the life I wanted either. I an, I got reincarnated into a chaebol family—who would’ve expected I’d be spending my ti buried in textbooks?

But it’s not like I could hang out with kids my age. And it’s not like there was even internet to distract .

The TV they let watch sotis was okay, but it didn’t really match my vibe.

Books were all I had left. Not a bad hobby, considering I was a bit of a bookworm in my past life too. Once I grow up for real, I’ll be too busy moving money around to read anyway, so I might as well study while I can.

‘...In any case. I need to get out of this damn house ASAP.’

It wasn’t just because I wanted to escape my abusive father. I needed to use my most precious resource—ti—as effectively as possible.

The way I acted, the way I invested—those choices would change the world. Everything I’m doing now is groundwork so I can one day enjoy a blissful life with fast internet.

Sure, Korea is just starting to roll out PC communication networks, but co on. They’re ancient tech. I want to watch YouTube in 1080p.

Okay, maybe the only cool thing would be witnessing Dragon Raja and Eyes of Dawn serialized live on HiTel, but other than that? No thanks.

“...”

Huh.

Actually, now that I think about it... that might be fun. If I play it right, I could attract a ton of attention online by “predicting” the ending of Eyes of Dawn.

Wait. No. Dragon Raja didn’t start serialization until 1997. That’s right around the IMF crisis. I think that’s also about when the internet really started becoming mainstream.

And in 1997, I’d already be a college freshman. Wait, does that an I won’t get proper internet until I’m eighteen? That’s insane.

But that’s no reason I can’t push technological developnt forward myself.

I’ll find a way to get to the U.S. as soon as possible, accelerate internet comrcialization, and rake in money through investnts. Then... obviously, I’ll live the dream life of a chaebol heiress.

Blowing money, surrounded by won—well, not quite. I’m a woman too, now.

Anyway.

My mother died giving birth to . My father beca a lazy drunk obsessed with movies. But even so, I’m part of one of the most powerful families in South Korea.

Chairman Yoo Seong-pil—my grandfather—takes family values surprisingly seriously. As long as I play my cards right, I’ll probably get enough money to live comfortably for life.

What kind of group is Daehwa?

Daehwa Group only dropped a bit in rankings because of internal infighting, but originally, it was Korea’s largest conglorate and a global semiconductor giant.

Right now, my grandfather Yoo Seong-pil is a legend—he pushed through fierce opposition to invest in semiconductors and succeeded in developing DRAM. A classic success story.

It’s 1983 now... so not even a year to go.

Thankfully, my current father Yoo Jin-cheol may be a disaster of a parent, but he’s a Hollywood film buff. I heard my late mother was an actress, too. Either way, he’s way more into Arican movies than I am.

Which works out. I’ll use that as an excuse to go to the U.S. with him and escape the coming family bloodbath. I’ll invest, make so money, and co back triumphant. And when Bitcoin takes off—I’m going all in.

It’s a perfect life plan.

I don’t really want to go abroad, but it can’t be helped.

At least I’ve got a miracle body now. I don’t age, don’t get sick, and can’t die of natural causes—unless soone kills , I’ll live forever. But if I don’t age after forty, soone’s bound to notice.

A bit of money and power are the bare minimum to survive in a chaebol household.

And once I’ve got that—

I’ll spend the rest of my life doing whatever the hell I want.

In those web novels I used to read, people beca strears or V-tubers or whatever. Maybe I’ll do that.

Not that I really need to. Still, it’d be a waste not to use this pretty body. I’ve got a man’s soul inside, so I’m not interested in dating guys, but still.

‘Not like I could be an actress or celebrity with this family’s atmosphere anyway.’

Hmm. Maybe a film director. Or the CEO of a ga company?

Honestly, I’d like to try politics too, but I’m not sure I could stand bowing to people during election season.

Anyway.

In my last life, I did all kinds of awful things just to get rich, but in this second life, aside from being a woman and losing my parents—my starting point is incredible.

“Hehe.”

I let out a small laugh at the bright, limitless future ahead. When I smiled sweetly, my nanny smiled back at like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Young miss, it’s ti for dinner. As much as you love books, you should take a break while reading.”

Ah. It’s already dinnerti?

“Okaaay.”

Tap, tap, tap.

The house was unnecessarily large. Cold air drifted through the empty space like a haunting presence.

I sat at the table, alone, eating in silence.

Mmm.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

If I kept getting first place in school, would they start seeing as soone with potential—like the chaebol chairn I used to read about in my past life?

Who knows.

Probably not. I’m a girl, after all.

This era is still deeply conservative, and the chaebol families are even more so. There’s a good chance they wouldn’t even consider as a candidate to inherit any real stake in the family.

To be honest, since I’d already reincarnated, I did kind of want to try becoming a chaebol chairwoman—but reality has a thick, high wall. I’d already given up on any power struggles within the family.

There were too many other paths open to .

If I just moved to the U.S. and played the stock market or dabbled in crypto, I could easily make billions. Why would I waste my ti fighting a bloody inheritance war when Bitcoin exists?

I’d had enough of the cutthroat life in my previous round. This ti around, I had no intention of choosing the hard route.

That is—until then.

***

One year later. October 7, 1983.

My father died.

It was a car accident. He went on a trip to the U.S., got drunk, and drove himself straight into the grave. Fitting for a man who drowned in booze after my mother’s death.

Fucking idiot. Was Star Wars III really worth it?

“...”

That... ssed up my plans. Now I couldn’t escape to the U.S. My grandfather would never allow his young granddaughter to go abroad alone.

I might end up stuck in a political marriage or caught in the bloodbath of the family succession war.

And honestly, I could live with that. I an, forced marriage is horrible, sure—but at least I wouldn’t die.

But what about my secret? I don’t die of disease or old age, yeah—but if I get my head cut off, I’m just a regular corpse. It’s not like I’m immune to all forms of death.

Best-case scenario, I’d end up in the hands of my uncle—the one who becos chairman—and get quietly shipped off to the National Intelligence Service. Then it’s lab rat life until I die pathetically in so underground facility.

No thanks.

I don’t want to die.

For a mont, I thought I might finally benefit from my father’s obsession with Arican cinema. But the only thing he ever left was a fading bruise on my arm.

The funeral drew a surprising number of people. Even though his death—drunk driving abroad during a ti when international travel was restricted—was shaful enough to warrant a scaled-down ceremony, this many still showed up.

n with golden badges. District court judges. Subsidiary CEOs. Daehwa Group executives. I even spotted people from other chaebol families.

“Aigoo, aigoo!”

There was my grandmother, wailing. Tears ran down her wrinkled cheeks. He may have been a pathetic man to , but to her, he was still a beloved son.

In the VIP room, my grandfather stood silently, staring at the portrait with a heavy face. Yoo Seong-pil, the chairman, couldn’t serve as chief mourner due to his health, but he’d cleared his schedule to attend his son’s funeral.

And what did I feel as I watched all this?

Pity? A vague awareness that not even a chaebol heir can escape death?

No. What I felt was an overwhelming thirst for power.

That relentless hunger carried over from my past life.

If Yoo Seong-pil had just held more power, things could’ve been different. If travel bans had been lifted so he could send proper bodyguards abroad, this wouldn’t have happened. If Arican cops had taken the sight of a bleeding Asian man more seriously, he might’ve lived.

If Yoo Seong-pil’s na had been globally renowned—like it will be decades from now—this wouldn’t have happened.

If I had even half the influence I’d once held in my previous life.

It would’ve been different.

From a distance, I could hear people chatting.

“Oh, Assemblyman! It’s been too long. How is His Excellency?”

“Hoho, still going strong. Though I hear... ahem... with all the recent private education crackdowns, things have gotten tense, haven’t they?”

Through the eyes of a little girl, Yoo ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) Jin-cheol’s funeral was a dense tangle of politics and power brokering.

Thud.

And then—soone arrived. The atmosphere shifted. He looked calm at first glance, but weariness and irritation clung to his face like shadows.

“Oh! Senior Secretary Kim Hae-ik. What an honor.”

For the first ti, the eldest son—my uncle, and the official chief mourner—opened his mouth. I’d been zoning out until then, but now I focused sharply.

Ah.

...That man looked familiar. He was known as the “Economic President”—the Chief Presidential Secretary for Economic Affairs.

A brilliant mind who died young in a terrorist attack. That’s what they said. And now he was attending this funeral?

“...”

That’s when it truly hit .

This family—the Daehwa family—was that powerful. The most asset-rich family in all of South Korea.

My heart pounded. Strangely, the fear of death, the lancholy—it all vanished.

I didn’t want to die.

No. I wanted to live. Desperately.

Even more desperately.

The ghosts of the past I thought I’d exorcised gripped my body again. Life surged through my chest like a storm. I seared the reflections of all these powerful n into my mory, into my widened pupils.

Slowly, irrational desire took hold of again.

Like I was possessed, I stepped forward—toward my grandfather.

Toward the center of power.

“I’m sure losing your beloved son has brought you great sorrow, Chairman.”

“...Tsk. It has. Huu... Our poor Jin-cheol. If I’d known it’d end like this, I would’ve given him everything he ever asked for.”

I heard Chairman Yoo Seong-pil speaking quietly with his right-hand man, Lee Hak-cheol.

Maybe they didn’t bother being discreet because I was just a kid. Or maybe the death of the family’s black sheep, his third son, had shocked them so much they weren’t thinking clearly.

“Inheritance, hmm... Ha-yeon, co here.”

Chairman Yoo gestured to . I ran over in small, quick steps and grabbed the hem of his pants like a typical child.

Hop.

“Huu. There, there. Ha-yeon. It’s been hard on you, huh? Such a young child having to attend a funeral...”

Maybe he couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘death.’ Yoo Seong-pil, the man famous for his iron blood, was talking with a strangely soft tone. I’d never seen this side of him before, not even in all the tis I’d run into him since my reincarnation.

I gave him a bright smile and shook my head from side to side like I had no idea what was going on.

But I made sure to look just sad enough to suit the mood of the funeral.

“I’m okay, Grandpa.”

“Look how thin you are. Kids need to eat well. No picky eating, okay?”

“Okay.”

I bowed politely and adjusted my expression with care—subtly, just enough to make him feel warmth.

Or... pity might be more accurate. Honestly, it felt like begging, and I didn’t enjoy that.

But it seed to work. Yoo Seong-pil let out a faint sigh and gestured to Lee Hak-cheol.

“Kid’s sharp. She’s got potential. Give her Jin-cheol’s inheritance when the ti’s right. It’s not like it’s much, anyway.”

The chief secretary bowed his head.

“Understood, Chairman.”

With that, Yoo Seong-pil stopped paying attention and went to greet the rest of the mourners. Kim Hae-ik, after all, was an important guest.

He’d never admit it, but to him, the company he built was far more important than any of his dozen grandchildren.

***

After he left, I quietly chewed over what he’d said.

No picky eating. Huh.

There’s a famous saying from Chairman Yoo Seong-pil, a man known for driving his people ruthlessly:

“If you don’t eat, you die.”

It has a double aning. On the surface, it ca from the trauma of going ten days without food during the Korean War. He always made sure the people around him—especially his employees—ate properly.

But there’s a deeper aning.

If you don’t devour those around you, you die. Run like hell. Rip into others. Swallow them whole. Grow stronger by consuming everything in your path.

...Right. I’m the sa.

Whether I want it or not.

Now that I’ve been born into a chaebol family, I’m riding the tiger.

“Thank you, Father.”

For the first ti, I thanked my father. Yoo Jin-cheol, now dead, left more than a few company shares and so seed money.

He left vision.

Once I’d been forced to face the dead end of all other roads—only then did I finally see the path I needed to take.

The one road that remained.

The biggest. The bloodiest. The most dazzling path of all.

“Yeah. Let’s do it. This is my second life—so this ti, I’ll go all the way.”

I will consu the Daehwa Group.

All of it.

Because I’m the good granddaughter who listens to Grandpa.

No picky eating. Chew thoroughly—and swallow it whole.