[EXPLAINER] Jeonse: How Korea's homeownership shortcut turned into breeding ground for fraud

Jeonse, Korea’s lump-sum home rental system, was widely used as a stepping stone to homeownership and later became a source of major fraud. The system worked by letting tenants pay large deposits instead of monthly rent, but falling interest rates and weaker property prices exposed its risks. A 2022 scandal involving Nam Heon-gi and other cases showed how landlords and scammers exploited the system, while younger renters have borne much of the damage.

Under jeonse, tenants typically pay a deposit equal to 60 to 80 percent of a property’s value, and the deposit is returned when the lease ends, usually after two years.

The system spread in the 1970s when Korea’s formal housing finance market was underdeveloped and banks focused credit on state-led industrial projects.

In 2022, Nam Heon-gi, known as the villa king, was found to have defrauded 820 renters of 58.9 billion won while controlling about 2,700 residential units in Incheon.

As of Aug. 31, the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport had officially recognized 40,936 people as victims under the Special Act on Support for Jeonse Fraud Victims and Housing Stability.

People under 40 accounted for 75.95 percent of those officially recognized as victims.

Published Sep 11, 2026 7:00 am KST

A panoramic view of apartment complexes in Seoul seen from the 63 Square skyscraper, Aug. 30 / Yonhap

For decades, Korea’s unique “jeonse” rental system was widely seen as a natural stepping stone to homeownership.

The system spread during the country’s breakneck economic growth in the 1970s. Under jeonse, tenants pay their landlord a large lump-sum deposit — often equivalent to 60 to 80 percent of the property’s value — instead of monthly rent. The deposit is returned in full when the lease ends, typically after two years.

Such distinct rental arrangements took root in part because Korea’s formal housing finance market was still underdeveloped at the time.

As rapid urbanization drove millions of people from rural areas into cities, demand for housing surged. But ordinary households had limited access to mortgages, as banks were largely focused on channeling credit into state-led industrial development projects.

Jeonse effectively filled that gap as a private alternative to bank financing. Landlords could use tenants’ deposits to fund part of a home purchase, invest the money or deposit in high interest-bearing accounts. In that sense, the deposit functioned much like an interest-free loan.

For tenants, meanwhile, it offered a way to secure a home without having to pay monthly rent that they would never get back. Those able to raise the upfront deposit could live in the property for the duration of the lease and receive the same principal back at the end. That meant they could retain a substantial pool of savings that could later be put toward buying their own home.

For a generation of Koreans, jeonse thus served both sides of the country’s still-evolving housing market. And for years, this arrangement worked remarkably well — until the financial and property market conditions that had sustained it started to change.

As interest rates began to fall, landlords could no longer earn as much by putting tenants’ deposits to work. At the same time, expectations of ever-rising property prices gradually faded, making it harder for landlords to count on their homes continuing to rise in value.

That shift exposed a risk that had long been hidden in plain sight. Jeonse rests on a simple, largely trust-based premise: that the landlord will have enough cash to return the deposit in full when the lease ends.

When property prices fall during a market slump or when a new tenant’s deposit is lower than the amount owed to the outgoing tenant, that assumption can unravel. Landlords can find themselves short of the cash needed to repay departing renters, effectively leaving the latter to bear the losses.

What was once a key source of financing for Korea’s housing boom has thus become a major source of financial risk — and, in some cases, a vehicle for outright fraud.

A former criminal investigator with the Seoul Central District Prosecutors' Office, accused of failing to return 3.2 billion won in "jeonse" deposits to 25 Dongtan tenants in Hwaseong, Gyeonggi Province, leaves the detention center at Yongin Dongbu Police Station to attend a court hearing, July 24. Yonhap

How jeonse became vehicle for fraud

In 2022, one housing scandal thrust jeonse fraud into the national spotlight.

Nam Heon-gi, the so-called “villa king” who amassed around 2,700 residential units in Incheon, was found to have defrauded 820 renters of a combined 58.9 billion won ($44 million).

He acquired properties with little of his own money, instead using tenants’ deposits to fund successive purchases — a form of highly leveraged property flipping that relied on a steady stream of new tenants to keep the scheme going. But as the property market weakened and the flow of new deposits dried up, that cycle broke down. The case exposed how the structure of jeonse could be exploited on an industrial scale.

A more recent scandal showed that the problem extends beyond property speculators. A criminal investigator with the Seoul Central District Prosecutors’ Office was accused of owning more than 70 properties in Dongtan in Hwaseong, Gyeonggi Province, and failing to return a combined 3.2 billion won in deposits owed to 25 tenants. He fled to the Philippines in 2025 as complaints mounted and was forcibly returned to Korea this July after arrest.

Other scams involve landlords collecting deposits for properties they have no right to lease. A common example is when a property has been handed over to a trust company as loan security but is rented out anyway without the company’s permission. Fraudsters may also provide different versions of a contract to the tenants or lease the same home to multiple renters without their knowledge.

For tenants, the consequences can be devastating. A jeonse deposit represents years of savings, often topped up with a bank loan. When it cannot be recovered, victims can lose much of their wealth while still being left with debt to repay.

The burden has fallen disproportionately on younger Koreans. As of Aug. 31, the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport had officially recognized 40,936 people as victims under the Special Act on Support for Jeonse Fraud Victims and Housing Stability. Those under 40 accounted for 75.95 percent of the total.

‘Jeonse’ scams trap tenants in housing rental crisis

Risky system, housing scams leave many young tenants financially ruined

韩国的“全租”制度，即一次性支付房租的房屋租赁方式，曾被广泛用作实现购房梦想的跳板，但后来却成为诈骗的温床。该制度允许租户支付大笔押金而非按月支付租金，但随着利率下降和房价走低，其风险也随之暴露。2022年，涉及南宪基（音译）的丑闻以及其他案件揭示了房东和诈骗分子如何利用这一制度牟利，而年轻的租房者则承受了最大的损失。

根据全租协议，租户通常支付相当于房产价值 60% 至 80% 的押金，押金在租约结束时退还，通常是两年后。

该体系在 20 世纪 70 年代开始传播，当时韩国正规住房金融市场不发达，银行将信贷重点放在国家主导的工业项目上。

2022年，被称为“别墅大王”的南宪基被发现控制着仁川约2700套住宅单元，诈骗了820名租户共计589亿韩元。

截至 8 月 31 日，国土交通部已根据《全世诈骗受害者支援和住房稳定特别法》正式认定 40936 人为受害者。

40岁以下的人占官方认定的受害者总数的75.95%。

发布于2026年9月11日 上午7:00（韩国标准时间）

8月30日/韩联社 从63 Square摩天大楼俯瞰首尔公寓楼群全景

几十年来，韩国独特的“全租”制度被广泛视为实现住房所有权的天然跳板。

这种制度在20世纪70年代韩国经济飞速发展时期迅速普及。根据全租制度，租户无需按月支付租金，而是向房东一次性支付一大笔押金——通常相当于房产价值的60%到80%。租期结束时（通常为两年），押金将全额退还。

这种独特的租赁安排之所以出现，部分原因是当时韩国正规的住房金融市场还不发达。

随着快速的城市化进程，数百万农村人口涌入城市，住房需求激增。但普通家庭获得抵押贷款的机会有限，因为银行的信贷主要集中于向国家主导的工业发展项目输送资金。

全租房有效地填补了这一空白，成为银行融资之外的一种私人选择。房东可以用租户的押金来支付部分购房款，也可以将这笔钱用于投资或存入高息账户。从这个意义上讲，押金的作用很像一笔无息贷款。

与此同时，对于租户而言，这提供了一种无需支付无法收回的月租即可获得住房的途径。那些能够筹集到预付押金的人可以在租赁期内居住在该房产中，并在租赁期满后取回相同的本金。这意味着他们可以保留一笔可观的积蓄，用于日后购买自己的住房。

对于一代韩国人来说，全租房因此服务于当时仍在不断发展的房地产市场的买卖双方。多年来，这种模式运作得非常成功——直到支撑它的金融和房地产市场环境开始发生变化。

随着利率开始下降，房东无法再像以前那样通过收取租户押金来获得丰厚的收益。与此同时，人们对房价持续上涨的预期也逐渐消退，房东越来越难以指望自己的房产价值继续攀升。

这一转变暴露了一个长期以来显而易见却又被掩盖的风险。全租协议基于一个简单且主要依靠信任的前提：房东在租约到期时有足够的现金全额退还押金。

当市场低迷导致房价下跌，或者新租户的押金低于应付给原租户的金额时，这种假设就可能失效。房东可能会发现自己资金短缺，无法偿还退租租户的欠款，最终只能由租户承担损失。

曾经是韩国房地产繁荣的关键融资来源，如今却成了主要的金融风险来源，在某些情况下，甚至成了彻头彻尾的欺诈工具。

7月24日，一名曾任首尔中央地方检察厅刑事调查员的男子离开位于龙仁东部警察署的拘留所，前往法院出庭。该男子被控未向京畿道华城市东滩的25名租户返还32亿韩元的“全租押金”。（韩联社）

全世如何成为诈骗工具

2022年，一起房屋诈骗案将全租房诈骗推到了全国舆论的风口浪尖。

被称为“别墅大王”的南宪基在仁川拥有约 2700 套住宅，被发现诈骗了 820 名租户共计 589 亿韩元（4400 万美元）。

他几乎没用自己的钱就购置房产，而是利用租户的押金进行后续购买——这种高杠杆的房产炒作模式依赖于源源不断的新租户来维持运转。但随着房地产市场疲软，新押金来源枯竭，这种循环也随之瓦解。此案揭露了“全租”模式如何被大规模滥用。

最近一起丑闻表明，问题不仅限于房地产投机者。首尔中央地方检察厅的一名刑事调查员被指控在京畿道华城市东滩拥有70多处房产，并拖欠25名租户共计32亿韩元的押金。随着投诉不断增加，他于2025年逃往菲律宾，并于今年7月被捕后被强制遣返回韩国。

其他诈骗手段包括房东收取他们无权出租的房产的押金。一个常见的例子是，房产已被移交给信托公司作为贷款担保，但房东却未经公司许可擅自出租。诈骗分子还可能向租户提供不同版本的合同，或者在租户不知情的情况下将同一套房子出租给多个租户。

对租户而言，后果可能是毁灭性的。全租押金代表着多年的积蓄，通常还辅以银行贷款。一旦押金无法追回，受害者不仅会损失大部分财产，还要背负债务。

年轻人受到的负担尤为沉重。截至8月31日，韩国国土交通部已根据《全世诈骗受害者支援及住房稳定特别法》正式认定40936人为受害者，其中40岁以下人群占总数的75.95%。

“全租”骗局让租户陷入租房危机

风险重重的租房制度，房屋诈骗让许多年轻租户倾家荡产。