Around the year 2000, the city of Bucheon, South Korea, was in the middle of a real estate boom. New commercial buildings were rising along the main roads to serve fast-growing residential complexes, but the commercial districts themselves were still forming — which made the well-located properties both valuable and hard to secure.
At the time, I was responsible for acquiring a commercial property for my company’s new educational institute. After extensive research and repeated negotiations, I found the right space: floors 3 through 6 of a newly built commercial building.
I negotiated with the developer’s representative down to the lowest price he was willing to offer. The deal itself was settled. All that remained was internal approval — sign-off from the company and a final decision from the Investment Review Committee.
But in any large organization, decisions of that size take time.
The $100,000 personal offer
Upper floors are typically the hardest units to sell in a commercial building, and with several competing developments nearby, the sales representative grew increasingly anxious as our approval process dragged on. He worried we might walk away to another site.
One afternoon, he called my office, sounding urgent.
“Please understand — internal approval simply takes time in a company this size,” I told him.
There was a brief silence. Then he made an offer I hadn’t expected.
“If you could help move the contract along a little faster, I’d be willing to give you around 100 million won personally.”
The situation was clear enough. The official price negotiation had already concluded, so this wasn’t the company’s money — it was his own commission, offered to protect the deal.
Turning a personal offer into corporate value
Rather than accepting the money, or simply refusing it, I offered a different solution.
“Don’t give that money to me. Take it off the purchase price, officially.”
He agreed. The final purchase price ended up 100 million won lower than what we’d already negotiated. He gave up part of his own commission, and the company acquired the property on even better terms.
Holding the line on investment discipline
At the Investment Review Committee meeting, the mood was serious — a deal of that size always drew careful scrutiny.
But once I explained that we’d secured an additional 100 million won reduction during the approval period, the tone shifted immediately. The executives were pleased. One of them, clearly energized, said:
“Great negotiating! Since we got such a good price — why not buy one more floor while we’re at it?”
I disagreed on the spot.
When it comes to real estate, I’ve always worked from two principles: future value, and a clear business purpose. This acquisition wasn’t an investment play — it was tied to a specific operational need, running the educational institute. Buying an extra floor simply because the price looked good would have broken from that discipline. An asset without a defined purpose doesn’t add value; it becomes a liability.
The committee accepted the reasoning, and we closed the deal exactly as planned — four floors, nothing more.
The long-term return of integrity
Years have passed since then. Those same four floors in Bucheon still serve as our company’s regional headquarters for the Incheon and Bucheon area today.
Looking back, turning down that money wasn’t just the ethical choice — it turned out to be the better business decision too. In the end, the real payoff of doing the right thing isn’t a one-time gain. It’s the ease of mind that comes from knowing the decision was made for the right reasons.