A layer of snow covered Geoje Island on a cold afternoon on January 15. Kim Mi-suk (55, alias) was anxious as she stood before the locked entrance to her son's convenience store. Since the store was open 24/7, 365 days of the year, the lights in the store never went out even when her son was out.
But on that day, the store remained dark, even the sign outside the store, long after the day had dawned. Her son, who should have returned home after work, was nowhere to be seen that morning. He did not answer his phone.
"Why don't you open the door? We can't touch anything because the store belongs to the owner," the man from the store's main office urged her. She called a locksmith and had the door opened. "Aaaaah!"
The mother, who was looking around the counter, froze when she heard the man from the franchiser scream. The man, who had been looking around the refrigerator, sprang out. Trembling he said, "There's a man lying on the floor by the fridge. He looks like your son."
Kim's husband went bankrupt during the 1997 Asian financial crisis. He left the family leaving behind debts reaching 100 million won along with a swarm of creditors. Kim's son, Im Yeong-min (31, alias), who had been a ninth grader at the time, began working part-time at convenience stores and internet game rooms.
He took the college entrance exam a second time and entered the Department of Biotechnology at Daegu University. However, his chances of finding a job did not seem bright even if he graduated from college.
So he entered the shipbuilding department at Koje College, a 3-year course which guaranteed employment. After graduation, he worked as a temporary worker at Samsung Heavy Industries.
Then he joined a Samsung Heavy Industries subcontractor, but left when the company notified lay-offs two years later. At the time, he told his family, "The older men with kids should remain at the company. I'm young, so I can get another job." However, finding another job was not easy. Im submitted applications to numerous companies while working as a cell phone dealer, but he was tired of the constant bad news.
Unable to see her son so discouraged Kim suggested, "Would you like to try running a convenience store, internet game room, or cell phone dealership, since you've worked at all those stores? Let's get a loan using the apartment as collateral." Thinking that he was grabbing at the last straw in his life, Im said, "I'm confident I can run a convenience store, since I have the experience."
"We guarantee you'll enjoy net profits of 3.5 million won in the first three months, and a monthly profit of 6 million after that." When the mother and son heard these words spoken by an employee from the convenience store franchise, they were excited. "The floating population in this area is huge, because of the shipyard here. If you don't want to open the store, I'll open it."
When the employee added these words pointing to the location for the new store, they made up their minds. "Well, with that kind of profit, we will be able to repay our loan in six months, and my son will be able to get married." The mother and son were full of high hopes. In April 2011, the franchise employee brought his laptop and on the screen displayed tens of pages of a contract written in small print for Kim to see.
Kim was not able to decipher the letters. That day her son was away in Busan. Kim signed the contract in several places thinking, "There are so many convenience stores nationwide, I'm sure they won't give us a hard time with strange terms in the contract."
She took out a loan of 30 million won using her house as collateral and paid for the startup including the payment for products and franchise membership fee. Im's younger sister signed as a surety for the 50 million won cancellation fee in case they terminated the contract.
Unfortunately, the family's hopes were replaced with fears in three months. There was no net profit, which the franchiser had promised, and no floating population, which they had said would increase. The shipyards in front of the convenience store started leaving as they failed to obtain orders.
The lights in the nearby homes were barely lit even at night. But keeping the store open 24 hours a day was compulsory according to the contract. Im worked 15 hours a day from 5 p.m. to 8 a.m. the next day to reduce labor costs.
Im's store recorded 700,000 won in daily sales. He earned 21 million won a month, but after deducting the value added tax and the 35%, which the franchiser was entitled to, he was left with 12.4 million won. Given that the average margin percentage was 26%, he was left with 3.2 million won, but after deducting labor costs, rent, the electricity bill, and facility management costs he was left in the red.
The "Transfer of Daily Sales Policy" required him to transfer the cash sales to the franchise company, and this drove him to take out private loans. If he did not transfer the cash for his sales daily to the franchiser, he was subject to pay interest on the amount he did not transfer.
Because of this, coㅊnvenience store owners are short on cash. He had to borrow money to pay the wages of his part-time workers. He took out private loans ranging from hundreds of thousands of won to millions of won from more than 10 lenders.
Even as he borrowed money, he was never late in his payments to the franchiser or in paying the wages of his employees. The situation at his store worsened, but he had no other option. If he closed the store before fulfilling the 5-year contract period, he would have to pay a cancellation fee of 50 million won, and he would have lost the money he invested in the startup.
But the franchiser didn't even tolerate the losses in sales. Last August, he received a letter from the franchiser notifying the termination of the contract. This was brought on by inventory losses of about 1 million won.
In the end, Im sank down in a cramped corner behind the drinks refrigerator in the convenience store on January 14. He lighted an ignition coal and drank liquor spiked with sedatives. He then collapsed onto the floor and died in the store which once housed his dreams. His cell phone, which his family received from the police, had been initialized. "Dear client, you are 1 day overdue. Please make your payment before the bank's closing time."
"If you fail to make the payment, you may receive a letter of demand." Text messages demanding payment continued to arrive from the lenders as the bereaved family mourned Im's death.
