Chaebol

The faceless artist.

Criticizing institutionalized art, he operated under a shroud of anonymity, creating graffiti art and the like.

Despite his concealed identity, Banksy's influence was immense.

Even a single piece of graffiti on an ordinary wall could cause property values to skyrocket tenfold, twentyfold.

Naturally, the world was eager to uncover Banksy's identity.

So far, the gathered information was roughly as follows:

British nationality, born in the 1970s, Caucasian male.

In other words.

'If that information is correct… the likelihood of Yoo Sun-ho being Banksy is close to zero.'

I quietly stared at the drawing.

The idea of holding a bouquet instead of a Molotov cocktail.

It was unique, but not something only Banksy could come up with.

'Was it just a misunderstanding?'

If it were just about the idea, it could easily be dismissed as a simple mistake.

However.

How could one explain the painting style itself?

This style, so strikingly similar to Banksy's murals.

As these unresolved questions tangled in my mind.

"What are you thinking about so deeply?"

It was the assistant's voice.

"Do you like the drawing that much?"

"Huh? Oh, yes."

"But what can we do? No matter how good the offer is… we can't transfer the painting without the student's consent."

"Um, assistant."

"Yes?"

"Do you know where the artist who drew this is going to study abroad?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I haven't heard anything specific."

"..."

"It's probably the U.S.? Nowadays, New York is all the rage."

Hmm.

If he were going to study in the UK…

Then one could consider a connection between Yoo Sun-ho and Banksy.

'But that would just be force-fitting it into the known British nationality information.'

After staring at the drawing for a while.

"If you happen to get in touch with him later."

"Yes."

"Could you contact my house?"

"Yo… your house?"

"Yes."

"Would you be the one answering the phone?"

"No, one of our staff would probably answer it."

"Oh, you have someone who just answers the phone at your house?"

It felt like a misconception about being from a wealthy family was forming, but oh well.

"Anyway, thank you so much for all your help today."

As I bowed my head, the assistant asked again.

"Is your driver taking you home?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

Leaving her inexplicable exclamation behind, I left the art studio.

***

In the moving car.

I fixed my gaze out the window, organizing my thoughts.

'If Yoo Sun-ho is Banksy?'

Purchasing his early works would be an incredible investment.

'Even if he isn't Banksy… it's still a bargain.'

Yoo Sun-ho's work, at most, would be priced around a million won.

'Considering the quality, it's a steal, a real steal.'

Whatever the case, I was determined to buy it.

All that was left was to wait patiently for the assistant's call.

But then, what was this?

Thump, thump.

My heart pounded so loudly that waiting 'patiently' wasn't easy.

'Banksy…'

Even though nothing had been confirmed.

"...!"

An inexplicable thrill coursed through my body.

The privilege of someone who knows the future.

As my thoughts reached that point, I began to feel a bit greedy.

'Since I'm making an investment anyway…'

Would it be better to buy all of Yoo Sun-ho's drawings?

If an oil painting costs 1 million won, the drawings combined shouldn't exceed 2 million won.

If by any chance Yoo Sun-ho is somehow connected to Banksy…

This 3 million won could someday turn into 10 billion won.

'It feels a bit odd to think of trading in artworks…'

But the potential return on investment is beyond imagination.

Given how poor I was in my past life, I thought I wasn't interested in money.

But maybe, I have a strong desire for material things?

"Ahem."

Embarrassed, I cleared my throat.

"Would you like some water?"

The driver promptly responded from the front seat.

"No, I'm fine."

"If you feel dry, I can turn off the heater."

"No, thank you, driver."

As I bowed my head, he also nodded slightly in response.

Phew.

Knowing the future is truly amazing.

Just by buying stocks and real estate destined for success, you can become immensely wealthy.

'But drawing unnecessary attention is a no-go.'

If I start acting out to make some money…

'Who would have thought the grandson had such a keen eye. So, why don't you take charge of the electronics division instead of Yoo Geon?'

If I ended up taking on the semiconductor and mobile phone business?

'This hard-earned second life… would be filled with nothing but toil.'

Ugh, just imagining it is horrifying.

If I must take on any corporate management, it should be limited to the arts.

'The field where I can be happy, the arts!'

In other words.

'Using future knowledge should also be confined to the arts!'

Having roughly organized my thoughts.

'Since I'm already out, should I buy some things I need before heading back?'

Forgotten items began to come to mind one by one.

I poked my head slightly toward the driver's seat and asked.

"Driver, could we stop by the department store for a bit?"

"Of course. Shall I take you to the nearest Hyungang Department Store?"

"Yes, please."

No sooner had I spoken than the car turned towards Myeong-dong.

***

At the same time.

A pile of papers lay on Park Yong-hak's desk.

They were the original manuscripts sent by Ji-hoon.

"He's written a lot."

The secretary general let out a dry laugh at Park Yong-hak's words.

"So, did they have any objections?"

"There was a bit of resistance, but since Ji-hoon will become a quadruple award winner, each newspaper couldn't afford to exclude him from their selection."

"So, they reluctantly agreed."

"Yes. They seem to think that granting Hyungang's request might lead to future advertising revenue."

"They constantly criticize conglomerates but jump at the chance for ads."

"I will ensure proper distribution and measures."

Park Yong-hak waved his hand dismissively, showing his lack of interest.

"How did the investigation go?"

"Yes. We inquired with ghostwriters… but found no leads. The situation with current authors was similar."

"So, you're saying this young boy wrote it himself?"

"We found no special circumstances. However…"

"…?"

"The final reviewers of the young master's work all unanimously praised it. They said that while it still felt youthful, the writing was solid—more like a seasoned writer of several years rather than a debut. And the new writing style made it particularly noticeable."

Artists are inherently proud.

For people who are busy asserting their own superiority to unanimously pour out praise…

It means the work is beyond the ordinary level.

"Hmm."

"You seem to be deep in thought."

"Deep in thought, my foot."

"..."

"Did you send the money?"

"Yes. I sent it to the account in the young master's name as you instructed."

"Good job. You can leave now."

As the secretary general's back receded.

"A seasoned writer's level…"

Chairman Park murmured quietly to himself.

***

In front of Hyungang Department Store.

In my previous life, I never had a reason to go to a department store.

It always felt like buying the same items unnecessarily expensively.

So, I always checked the lowest prices online and the free shipping mark before barely clicking the purchase button.

But.

To think that a place I'd never thought to visit in my life is now owned by my family.

Does this seem surreal?

"If we knew you were coming, we would have prepared in advance."

Seeing the employees rushing out to greet the owner's family.

"..."

It was impossible not to feel like a part of Hyungang.

"Where would you like to go?"

"…Hmm."

"By the way, the luxury section is this way."

"Oh, I'm here to buy a typewriter."

"Pardon?"

Maybe they never expected to hear the word typewriter from the owner's family.

The employee's face went blank for a moment but soon composed herself.

"Why do you need a typewriter…?"

"Writing with a pencil is too tiring."

"Is it just for writing?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Then, may I recommend a word processor?"

"A word processor?"

"Yes. It's similar to a typewriter but a bit more advanced. It has a small LCD screen for simple document work."

Oh!

I had read something similar in essays by overseas authors.

Late 70s to early 80s.

They used word processors with black-and-white LCD screens.

"It's a product from Japan's Brother Industries. It's quite reliable and decent."

"Can I see it?"

When I showed interest, the employee proudly led the way.

"Young master, our department store employees work tirelessly for Hyungang's development…"

He wasn't talking to an eleven-year-old boy.

He probably hoped this would be conveyed to my parents.

When we reached the electronics section, the employee immediately changed the subject.

"Here it is."

"Oh."

It's like a kind of laptop.

It looks quite bulky, though.

Tap, tap.

The keystrokes feel quite good…

Tat-tat-tat-tat.

The screen's response is a bit slow.

Tap, tap.

But it's a huge advantage that you can easily correct mistakes with the backspace key!

"Do you like it?"

"It's excellent."

"I'm glad it's helpful. Shall I load it into the trunk?"

"Yes, please."

"Leave it to me. So, where to next? The luxury section is downstairs…"

"No, I'll move around alone."

"Pardon?"

Perhaps my words were like a bolt from the blue.

The employee's eyes widened.

"Did I make a mistake, or was my service burdensome…"

"It's not that. I'm stopping by the bookstore."

"The bookstore…?"

"I can find the book I want on my own, and if I need help, I can ask the driver."

"Oh, I would have liked to accompany you to the end…"

Maybe because of the burdensome comment.

I had no choice but to go alone.

As I headed upstairs.

"Attention, young master is moving to the bookstore. Ensure he can comfortably browse for books."

(Roger that.)

I clearly heard the staff communication over the radio.

Sigh.

'I should avoid coming to the department store for a while.'

With belated regret, I hurried my steps.

Was it because I was thinking of Banksy?

The first place I headed was the art book section.

'I wanted to see paintings, but there aren't many art books.'

Indeed.

At this time, public interest was focused on the skyrocketing prices of paintings.

After Picaso's death, there was inflation in the entire art market.

It was a time when paintings selling for over a hundred billion won were shocking the world.

So most new releases were about artworks and money.

Some stories were quite enticing.

A painting bought from an antique shop turned out to be genuine.

Bought for 100,000 won, it was actually a piece worth tens of billions.

'Really?'

They even wrote some supposed methods to authenticate genuine works?

It was utterly absurd.

Would anyone fall for such marketing?

'Despite that… there are a lot of them on display.'

Just as rare as beans sprouting in drought, it seemed such stories did exist.

Maybe people bought them, willing to be fooled?

As I was about to move to the next section.

'Wait.'

I stopped in my tracks.

An antique shop.

An undiscovered masterpiece.

Come to think of it… there were quite a few similar stories in my past life.

'It's the 1980s now.'

If I manage well, there might be a few valid cases still available?

'So, that's how it is?'

I stood still, delving into my memories.