Chaebol

It must have been an unexpected statement.

The head professor's face showed signs of bewilderment.

It wasn't something you'd expect from an eleven-year-old child.

"Oh dear, look at me. A guest is here, and I haven't even offered a drink. Coffee might be too much for a student, how about some tea?"

He was probably buying time to think while preparing the tea.

"This is from Jeju, it tastes quite different."

His voice lacked enthusiasm.

He was likely chattering away, trying to grasp the true meaning behind my words.

Perhaps he had sorted his thoughts.

After bringing the tea, he leaned back in his chair and asked,

"I'm not too familiar with the ways of high society, but do people in Hyungang start doing business from their school days?"

"No."

"But you just mentioned business…"

The head professor glanced at me hesitantly.

He wanted to ask if my grandfather put me up to this.

But he couldn't outright ask the Hyungang scion such a question… it must have been frustrating.

"Ji-hoon, business is generally an adult's domain, isn't it? Did someone in your family suggest this business idea, or is there some support behind it…"

"No, not at all."

"So, you're saying this business is purely your own idea?"

"Yes."

The professor looked like he was struggling to believe it.

"I'm asking because I might have misunderstood, so don't take it the wrong way."

I nodded.

"It's a bit early to talk about this, but succession… I mean, inheriting something, right? If you need to achieve something to inherit it… Involving a third party like me in such complex matters…"

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"What else? It's about making money."

"Excuse me?"

"Isn't making money the primary reason for doing business?"

His eyes seemed to ask if money wasn't plentiful enough already.

"But it's not my money."

"Well, yes, but in time, naturally, your share will…"

This frustrating man.

Who has time to wait for that?

Maybe he understood my thoughts.

Scratching his head, he looked bewildered.

He seemed to think that if he were born into Hyungang, he'd spend his life lounging around.

'My plan is similar. But can I ignore the 20 billion won right in front of me?'

The professor seemed to want to read my mind, but…

"Hmm."

Finding it difficult, he continued.

"Then let me ask one last question."

"...?"

"If you need business help, wouldn't it be better to ask your family elders? Why come to me specifically…"

"I told you, it's because of the money."

"What?"

"If more people get involved, we have to share the profits."

"Ah, I see."

The professor scratched his head again.

I started to explain as vaguely as possible.

"I want to send people to America. There's something I need to find."

"America is much bigger than our country… It's vast. You need to be more specific…"

"The information is crucial."

"You're saying you won't tell me much since I might refuse?"

"Exactly."

"Hmm."

"If you came to me, it's likely art-related."

"..."

"How many people do you need to send?"

"Determining that is your role."

"Ah… so you want me to figure out how many are needed and arrange the appropriate number?"

"Yes. Consulting aims to provide solutions, right?"

"You know a lot of difficult words. Haha."

The professor pretended to be relaxed, stalling for time.

He seemed cautious about getting involved with Hyungang.

He might still suspect it's related to the succession issue.

He could be worried about art-related money laundering or creating slush funds.

Perhaps because of that.

"Ji-hoon…"

He drew out his words.

"I don't think I can give you an answer today. Being in a position like mine, I have a lot to consider."

"I understand."

"Sorry for not giving you better news after your long trip."

I wasn't sorry.

In fact, I liked his cautious approach.

If he had agreed eagerly, hoping for a connection to Hyungang?

'I would have refused then.'

What I wanted was thorough caution.

Someone who doubts and double-checks every step!

"You can take your time to think and give me an answer."

"Thank you, Ji-hoon."

I bowed and stood up.

As I was about to leave the office.

I turned slowly, as if remembering something, and asked.

"Oh, Professor, when will your new work be out?"

"...?"

"I really want to see it when it's finished."

At my words, the professor's Adam's apple bobbed noticeably.

***

At the same time, in front of Yoo Won Semiconductor in Bucheon.

"This is the place the vice-president wants to acquire?"

At Park Yong-hak's words, the chief secretary stepped forward.

"Yes. Dr. Yoo Won Kim, the founder, was responsible for technology development at Motorola and Toshiba. He established Yoo Won Semiconductor five years ago."

"How is the financial structure?"

"It wouldn't be surprising if it closed down immediately."

"Even though they have core technology?"

"Yes. They have the only 3-inch wafer processing equipment in the country, but they're struggling with mass production."

"They need investment?"

"Yes. Several companies have shown interest, but the required funds are so enormous that they're all hesitating."

"Hmm."

"The amount needed is far beyond what Vice-President Park Jong-in's personal assets can cover."

"So, he has to beg for help from others."

"Unless he sells his shares, that's the only option."

The moment you beg for help from others.

Your share diminishes significantly.

"Even a child insists on taking everything themselves… Isn't it pathetic for a father to cook porridge just to give it away?"

"A ch-child?"

As if realizing he had said too much, Chairman Park waved his hand dismissively.

"What is Ji-hoon doing these days?"

"Ah, yes. He often meets Professor Jo Soo-deok from Seoul National University's art department."

"Jo Soo-deok?"

As if prepared for this question.

Click.

The chief secretary took out an art catalog from the car trunk.

"Though he's a professor at Seoul National University, he's not a well-known artist."

While Chairman Park flipped through the catalog, the chief secretary continued slowly.

"According to sources, he hasn't been enthusiastic about his art for a long time."

"Meaning his greatest achievement was becoming a professor."

"Yes. His works are generally considered to lack progress."

Park Yong-hak closed the catalog indifferently.

"The fact that Ji-hoon frequently meets Jo Soo-deok means the business he's talking about is art-related."

"It seems so."

You can gauge a person by their partners.

Maybe he was disappointed in his grandson's choice.

Chairman Park's lips showed a bitter smile.

After all, he's just an eleven-year-old child.

The fact that he's not asking his grandfather for money is commendable enough.

'Maybe I expect too much because he surprises me so often these days…'

Chairman Park found himself applying adult standards to a fourth-grader.

"Jo Soo-deok…"

"Shall I investigate further?"

"No need. He's not worth more of our time."

Even as he said that.

"...."

Chairman Park's face still held a hint of unspoken hope.

If his grandson recognized a talent the chief secretary overlooked…

It was a ridiculous thought.

He knew it, but.

-'I learned that true certainty isn't shared.'

-'This plan is too good to share with you, Grandfather.'

-'You understand, right?'

His grandson's words kept ringing in his ears, whether he liked it or not.

***

Meanwhile, in Jo Soo-deok's office at Seoul National University's art department.

After Park Ji-hoon left, Jo Soo-deok quietly pondered his position.

Head of the Western Painting Department at Seoul National University.

It was an impeccable career in the Korean art world.

When he handed out his business card, everyone looked at him with respect.

But Jo Soo-deok was a man who constantly looked upwards.

The problem was that there was always one artist above him.

The legend of Korean abstract art, Kim Hwan-ki.

Because of him, Jo Soo-deok had to keep looking up, straining his neck.

He believed he would catch up to Kim Hwan-ki someday.

No, he thought he would one day put the legend of Korean art beneath him.

The reason he took up a teaching position at Seoul National University was purely because of Kim Hwan-ki.

His rival became a professor at Hongik University's art department, so Jo Soo-deok had to have a comparable title.

Just when he thought their careers as professors were on par.

Kim Hwan-ki pulled ahead again.

Nine of the ten most expensive paintings in Korea were by Kim Hwan-ki, after all.

His achievements as an artist were incomparable.

Moreover, the legend of Korean art passed away at the age of 61.

He had become an unreachable star in the sky.

Since that day.

Jo Soo-deok had become a drifting shipwreck.

It was a natural result.

Unlike Kim Hwan-ki, who was true to art itself, Jo Soo-deok's art was solely a tool for competition.

Since then, he didn't know how he lived.

Chasing money… clinging to power… floundering.

The only certainty was that he had completely abandoned his brush after losing his goal.

He barely maintained his professorship by occasionally releasing old works he had painted.

But why?

-'Professor, when will your new work be out?'

How did the child from Hyungang come up with such a question?

Was it a mere coincidence?

Did he take a casual remark seriously on his own?

But that's not all.

The boy looked at Jo Soo-deok as if he knew everything.

Not just then.

Park Ji-hoon always had eyes that seemed to see through everything.

As if he had lived a second life and mastered it all.

Jo Soo-deok had seen such eyes before.

The day he first met the young Kim Hwan-ki.

Those two eyes that seemed to contain the whole world.

Kim Hwan-ki's eyes appeared larger than any canvas in the world.

Perhaps Kim Hwan-ki's masterpiece, 'The Universe,' was already completed in his eyes.

"Damn."

He thought he had barely escaped Kim Hwan-ki's shadow… but now an eleven-year-old kid had appeared with the same eyes.

But why?

It felt like an island had appeared ahead of his shipwreck.

He didn't know what was there.

'Am I getting involved in Hyungang's succession issues? Will I be used for their slush funds?'

Anxious thoughts surfaced.

Thump. Thump.

Yet, he couldn't ignore the clear attraction.

Would it feel like this if he met Kim Hwan-ki again?

Jo Soo-deok could only smile bitterly at the peculiar feeling.