[magazine kave=Park Soo-nam Reporter] In 2025, South Korea appears to be enjoying a cultural renaissance on the surface. K-POP is no longer a marginal music genre in Asia; it has grown into a massive industry that threatens the mainstream of the Western pop market. Numerous junior groups are racing along the path paved by BTS and BLACKPINK, and the 'K-Invasion' encompassing Korean dramas, films, and K-beauty is regarded as a comprehensive cultural assault surpassing the 'British Invasion' of the 1960s. Data from the National Statistical Office and the Customs Service indicate record-breaking export figures, and the government is quick to praise this as a 'victory of soft power.'
However, behind this glamorous success lies a 'bitter reality' that no one pays attention to or is deliberately ignoring. The greater the success, the darker the shadow it casts. After the dazzling stage lights go out, the flow of funds that forms the backbone of the entertainment industry has long been suffering from arteriosclerosis. We are now witnessing the bizarre phenomenon of the giant goose that lays the golden eggs of K-POP starving to death before it can even be cut open. The signal of this collapse did not come from idol scandals or musical plagiarism disputes, but rather from the most basic and mundane areas of 'distribution' and 'settlement.'
On December 16, 2025, the Seoul Rehabilitation Court ultimately declared Interpark Commerce bankrupt. This is not merely the closure of an online shopping mall. It signifies the fall of the symbolic brand 'Interpark,' which has been writing the history of South Korean e-commerce since the late 1990s, and the rupture of a massive distribution pipeline that has supported the K-POP physical album market. The name, familiar to overseas fans as a ticket booking site and album purchasing platform, is now set to disappear into history, leaving behind tens of thousands of creditors and hundreds of billions of won in unsettled payments.
Many overseas readers and K-POP fans may find it puzzling. "Isn't Interpark still selling tickets?" "Didn't I book tickets for the Seventeen concert on Interpark next year?" This confusion is a clear example of the complexity and deception inherent in this situation. We are currently living in a distorted structure where 'two Interparks' exist. The Interpark that sells tickets (Interpark Triple) has survived, but the Interpark that sells albums (Interpark Commerce) has perished.
Beyond the simple news of corporate bankruptcy, I aim to uncover the political and economic dynamics (Polyconomy) intertwined with it. We will trace how the giant platform empire Qoo10 broke the back of the K-POP industry while chasing the illusion of a NASDAQ listing, and how the abnormal practice known as 'Miloneogi' (pushing albums) met with liquidity crises to drive small agencies into the fear of chain bankruptcies. This is the most profound record of capital, greed, and collapse hidden behind the glamorous dance and song.
To understand the prologue of this massive collapse, we must first trace the trajectory of the Qoo10 group and its leader, Gu Young-bae. Gu Young-bae is a pivotal figure in the history of South Korean e-commerce. He started Gmarket as an in-house venture of Interpark, growing it into Korea's number one open market, and sold it to eBay in the U.S. in 2009, creating the myth of the 'Korean Amazon.' Following the 'non-compete clause' imposed as a condition of the sale, he moved to Singapore to establish Qoo10, aiming to target the Southeast Asian market.
The problem is that his ambitions did not stop at merely operating e-commerce. His ultimate goal was to list Qoo10's logistics subsidiary, Qxpress, on the NASDAQ. A NASDAQ listing was the best stage to maximize corporate value, but it required overwhelming 'scale expansion.' The most important indicators for gaining an advantage in the listing review were transaction volume (GMV) and cargo volume. CEO Gu Young-bae initiated an unprecedented 'M&A frenzy' to explosively increase these figures in a short period.
Qoo10's strategy for re-entering the Korean market, which began in 2022, was aggressive to the point of being destructive. TMON, WeMakePrice, and Interpark Commerce were all acquired at rock-bottom prices or through stock swaps, one after another, including first-generation social commerce and open markets that once dominated the Korean distribution market. On the surface, this seemed like a glamorous return of the Qoo10 empire. A massive dinosaur ranked fourth in the industry was born.
However, the source of the acquisition funds was problematic. Qoo10 effectively adopted a strategy of increasing its size using 'empty shells.' Lacking cash assets, Qoo10 misappropriated the sales proceeds of acquired companies to acquire other companies or cover operating costs, forming a structure akin to a 'Ponzi scheme' of rolling over settlement funds. They used the money from customers at TMON to cover WeMakePrice's losses and paid for Interpark Commerce's goods with WeMakePrice's funds.
This precarious structure collapsed like a domino in July 2024 when TMON and WeMakePrice failed to pay settlement funds to sellers (the T-Mef incident). An astronomical unsettled amount exceeding 1.2 trillion won was generated, marking the worst financial accident in the history of the Korean distribution industry. The shockwave immediately transferred to another affiliate within the group, Interpark Commerce.
Interpark Commerce had a somewhat different settlement cycle compared to TMON or WeMakePrice. Unlike other affiliates that settled monthly, it operated a weekly settlement system, leading to initial predictions that the damage would be less severe. However, the market's trust was ruthless. As the overall instability of the Qoo10 group became apparent, payment service providers (PG companies) and credit card companies proactively withheld funds from Interpark Commerce. It was instantaneous for the heart to stop when the blood vessels were blocked.
In August 2024, Interpark Commerce also applied for corporate rehabilitation in court. After a tedious legal battle and attempts at sale over the next year and four months, no 'savior' appeared willing to acquire a company whose brand value had already been damaged and whose debts exceeded its assets. The court's bankruptcy declaration on December 16, 2025, was a foreseen disaster. The court issued a cold judgment stating, "The liquidation value exceeds the going concern value." This single line of the ruling brought down a massive pillar that had supported the K-POP album distribution market.
Here lies the point where overseas K-POP fans are most confused. "Interpark has gone bankrupt, so why can I still book concert tickets on Interpark?" To solve this riddle, we must go back to 2021.
At that time, the leisure platform unicorn company Yanolja acquired 70% of Interpark's shares for about 300 billion won. Yanolja's intention was clear: to dominate the explosive travel demand and concert ticket market that would surge after the COVID-19 pandemic. In other words, the valuable parts Yanolja wanted were the 'tour' and 'ticket' business divisions. In contrast, the 'shopping' and 'books (including albums)' divisions, which had been suffering from chronic deficits, were like a thorn in the side.
Thus, Yanolja executed a meticulous surgery to split Interpark.
Interpark Triple: A corporation directly owned and operated by Yanolja. It handles the tour (airline/accommodation) and ticket (performance/exhibition) businesses. They are completely financially separated from the Qoo10 incident and continue to maintain the number one position in the industry.
Interpark Commerce: A separate corporation created by separating the shopping and book/album businesses. In April 2023, Yanolja sold this troublesome entity entirely to Qoo10.
The problem was that the brand power of 'Interpark' was too strong. When Qoo10 acquired Interpark Commerce, it obtained the right to use the name 'Interpark' for a certain period. To consumers, it merely appeared as if they were moving menus within the same 'Interpark' site, but in reality, they were navigating between two entirely different companies' systems.
Tickets went into Yanolja's vault, while albums went into Qoo10's vault. When the Qoo10 incident erupted in 2024, Yanolja immediately took action to draw a line. They prominently posted a notice stating, "Interpark Triple and Interpark Commerce are separate companies," and notified Qoo10 of the termination of the brand usage contract. Even Interpark Commerce attempted to rebrand itself as 'Byzle' to survive, but it was merely repainting a sinking ship.
The damage from this complex corporate split was directly passed on to consumers, especially K-POP fans. Suppose a fan successfully booked a ticket for Seventeen's concert through Interpark Ticket (Triple) and bought an album through Interpark Books (Commerce) to enter a fan signing event. The concert ticket is delivered normally, and the performance proceeds without a hitch. However, the album does not arrive. When they click the delivery tracking button, an error message stating, "No order history" appears. The customer service does not answer the phone, and refund requests are denied due to system errors. Fans are furious, but they do not even know who to complain to. On overseas fan communities like Reddit and Twitter, complaints such as "The album I ordered from Interpark Global has not arrived for six months" and "My money has disappeared" continued throughout 2025. This was not merely a delivery delay; it was a 'disappearance' situation where Qoo10 had misappropriated the sales proceeds, leaving no money to procure the items.
The reason why Interpark Commerce's bankruptcy shakes the entire K-POP industry beyond just a few unsold albums is precisely due to the abnormal distribution structure known as 'Miloneogi.' This practice became widespread as competition for initial sales records heated up in the 2020s.
[How Miloneogi Works]
Pre-order Bulk: Agencies request or agree with distributors (such as Interpark Commerce) to pre-order tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of albums to boost initial sales records.
Event Hosting: Distributors plan fan signing events, video call events (video fan signing), etc., to deplete this massive inventory. Fans purchase dozens of albums to increase their chances of winning.
Settlement Lag: Distributors receive cash immediately from fans but pay the agreed settlement amount to agencies according to the scheduled cycle.
This structure only works when 'trust' and 'cash flow' are smooth. Agencies pour money into album production and marketing, and the recovery funds are held by the distributors. However, the distributor Interpark Commerce has gone bankrupt. The money fans paid has been used in Qoo10's debt party and disappeared, and the album payments that agencies were supposed to receive have disintegrated.
Large agencies like HYBE, SM, and JYP have the strength to endure losses by strengthening their own distribution networks (Weverse Shop, JYP Shop) or through substantial capital. The problem lies with the small and medium-sized agencies that are the backbone. They mostly cover album production costs, music video shooting costs, and trainee training costs with 'advance payments' or album sales revenue. The practice of distributors offering agencies, "If you give us exclusive distribution rights, we will lend you 1 billion won in advance," is an open secret and a drug in the industry.
The unsettled payments tied to Interpark Commerce amounting to hundreds of millions to billions of won are akin to a death sentence for small and medium-sized agencies. Even mid-sized agencies like Fantagio are struggling with tax arrears and debt repayment pressures, while smaller agencies are closing their doors without a sound. As Park Soo-nam's column states, "In a country where success becomes profit," the more an agency sells albums to set initial sales records, the more money they owe to Interpark Commerce, leading to a paradoxical situation where they suffer greater losses.
Here, readers should not confuse 'album bulk buying' with 'Miloneogi.'
Bulk Buying: An explicit illegal act where an agency buys back its own albums to manipulate charts.
Miloneogi (Pushing): A method where distributors take on the inventory and sell it to fans through fan signing events, etc. Legally, it is in a grey area, but it is criticized as excessive marketing that squeezes fans' wallets.
This incident is closer to a 'financial accident' that erupted when the excessive pushing practices disguised as legality met the instability of distributors, rather than illegal bulk buying. Distributors spent fans' money as 'future profits' (Pre-spending), and when the bubble burst, only debts remained.
In 2023, K-POP physical album sales surpassed 100 million for the first time, reaching a peak. However, just one year later, in 2024, the market cooled down. According to Circle Chart data, physical album sales in 2024 plummeted to 92.7 million, a 19.5% decrease from the previous year. This marked the first de-growth in ten years since 2014.
This downward trend continued into 2025. According to the Customs Service's import and export trade statistics, album export revenue in 2024 increased by only 0.55% compared to the previous year, effectively halting growth, while exports to the largest market, Japan, plummeted by 24.7%. Experts interpret this as 'fandom fatigue' and 'market correction,' but it is not merely fatigue; it is a forced contraction caused by 'the collapse of distribution finance.'
The South Korean content industry inherently faces the 'subcontractor dilemma.' Just as Netflix's 〈Squid Game〉 hit big but most of the IP (intellectual property) and profits go to the platform, K-POP is also dependent on the health of distribution platforms (Interpark, Yes24, Aladin, etc.) that hold the keys to album sales. The bankruptcy of Interpark Commerce has made money stop circulating in the market. As distributors experience liquidity crises, they have reduced or eliminated the advance payments they used to provide to agencies and lost the capacity to absorb pushing volumes. A situation has arisen where "without cash flow, albums cannot be produced."
This is similar to the 'multiple polarization' phenomenon in the real estate market. Large agencies find ways to survive through global direct shipping (D2C) and collaborations with overseas labels, while small and medium-sized agencies that relied on domestic distribution networks collapse. In 2025, we are witnessing the disappearance of the waist of the K-POP market and the polarization into a few super IPs and numerous small businesses.
The biggest victims of Interpark Commerce's bankruptcy are the agencies financially, but psychologically, it is the K-POP fans worldwide. Especially for overseas fans, 'direct purchase' is a complicated and anxious process, and this incident has turned that anxiety into reality. Expressions like "My order has become a ghost" have emerged in communities like Reddit. It refers to the situation where money has left but the order history has disappeared, and there is no one to inquire with. This is not merely a service complaint; it leads to the 'Korea Discount.' As the perception spreads that "buying directly from Korean sites is risky," overseas fans turn to Amazon or local resellers, ultimately leading to a decrease in profit margins for Korean agencies.
The crisis of the Qoo10 group has also led to the paralysis of its logistics subsidiary, Qxpress. Shipments that were being sent overseas through Interpark Commerce became stuck in ports and warehouses due to operational disruptions at Qxpress. A Japanese fan lamented, "I ordered goods for the 2025 Caratland (Seventeen fan meeting), but I have not received them even six months after the event ended." The paralysis of logistics is tantamount to the destruction of the fan experience. Purchasing an album is not just consumption; it is a ritual of supporting the artist, and as that ritual becomes tainted by fraud and delivery delays, fan attrition is accelerating.
The bankruptcy proceedings of Interpark Commerce will accept creditor claims until February 2026 and have an investigation date in March. However, to speak coldly, the likelihood of general creditors (agencies and consumers) getting their money back is slim. The assets of platform companies are mostly intangible, and the brand value has already approached zero.
What is now needed is not 'after-the-fact remedies' but fundamental surgery. Current laws such as the 'Cultural Industry Development Act' or the 'Music Industry Promotion Act' have penalties for acts like bulk buying, but there are no financial safety devices to prevent the misappropriation of settlement funds by platforms. It is urgent to strengthen the mandatory 'escrow' system to prevent e-commerce companies from using sales proceeds as operating funds and to legislate settlement cycles as 'the second anti-Merge Point Law' and 'the second anti-Qoo10 Law.'
The fall of Interpark Commerce is the most tragic textbook showing how greedy capital can destroy the cultural industry. CEO Gu Young-bae's dream of a NASDAQ listing was built on the tears of countless small and medium-sized enterprises and artists. However, crises can also be opportunities. This incident should prompt the K-POP industry to break free from the abnormal dependence on 'Miloneogi.' Rather than obsessing over the illusion of selling 100 million albums, creating a transparent distribution structure and a healthy fandom culture is the way to sustain the 'K-Invasion' in the long run.
A country where success does not become profit, a country where artists' sweat is not used to pay off platform debts. That is the true 'global standard' of K-POP we should aspire to.
