Yokai Come to the Countryside Café

Chapter 33: Rookie (3)

Screech.

A luxury sedan came to a stop in the lobby of Daecheon Group's headquarters.

Before the chauffeur could even open the door from inside the car, the person who stepped out first was Chairman Joo Man-ho, the head of Daecheon Group.

"I'm just going up for a moment, so don't follow me."

"Yes, Chairman."

It wasn’t just skipping morning work—this was late evening, well past quitting time.

One of Chairman Joo Man-ho’s peculiar hobbies was to return to the company late at night like this and wander the office alone.

Because he had built this company from scratch after coming down from the North, he only felt like it was truly his company when he touched and swept things with his own hands during such late-night rounds.

But tonight, he wasn’t alone.

"Good evening, Chairman. I’m Kim Jinseong, a staff member from the Portal Site Development Team."

‘Huh?’

Chairman Joo Man-ho nodded reflexively at the polite greeting from behind.

Was he even in his first year? He was a tall, handsome new recruit who still looked fresh out of college.

And after finishing his greeting, the good-looking rookie casually resumed walking—as luck would have it, in the same direction.

Step, step.

An awkward walk between two people with an unbridgeable difference in rank.

‘Why does this little punk look so damn relaxed?’

He should be nervous. This wasn’t a one- or two-level gap in position.

Some bold newbies did greet him loudly, trying to be remembered.

Most of them quickly fled in another direction or froze stiff until he passed.

But this rookie was different.

He wasn’t even tense—he greeted the chairman like he would a neighbor and casually flipped through a stack of documents while walking beside him.

Even the directors didn’t dare act like this next to him.

"Isn't it uncomfortable to walk alongside me like this?"

"I'm fine. If it's uncomfortable for you, Chairman, I’ll take another route."

"No, just saying. Go ahead and walk the way you were going."

With just one conversation, the dynamic had completely shifted.

They walked silently again for a while, until the one growing uncomfortable with the awkward silence spoke first.

"Nothing difficult about the job?"

"I'm still not used to the work, so everything is hard."

"R-Really?"

‘Why is every answer from this kid so off-script?’

It wasn’t the answer he expected.

‘It's not hard!’, ‘The team members take good care of me, so I’m getting along well!’—those were the typical responses from rookies at that level.

Predictable answers for a predictable question.

And that was usually where Chairman Joo Man-ho ended conversations with new hires.

With a hearty chuckle and a ‘keep up the good work’ followed by a light pat on the shoulder, they’d part ways.

But this bold rookie was brutally honest.

"Then what's the hardest part?"

"That I’m still not of any help to the team."

"That's natural if you're new! Who's good from the get-go? Tell me something else that’s tough. You know, like commuting or the company welfare—stuff like that."

It was a persistent question prompted by how unusually frank and at ease Jinseong was, unlike other new hires.

"The hardest thing is that the AI project at Daecheon Solutions was discontinued. It was something many team members worked hard on."

"Is that so?"

Chairman Joo Man-ho’s face stiffened as he had been preparing to tease the rookie if he slipped up.

The eyes staring directly at him seemed to faintly glimmer with a bluish hue—at least that’s how it felt.

‘This kid... doesn’t seem unaware……’

The AI project had been scrapped by his own unilateral decision as chairman.

It had been a near miracle that Daecheon Group secured a foothold in the domestic portal market, which had been a land of opportunity.

But miracles don’t happen twice.

In these turbulent times globally, he wasn’t willing to shoulder astronomical expenses at the cost of reducing corporate reserves.

His actions directly contradicted the phrases he often repeated to executives about the future and taking bold risks.

But no one dared oppose or even show discomfort over his decision.

No one except this gutsy new hire.

"If we went ahead with it and the company wobbled, would it really be such a loss? Isn’t it better to focus on stable construction projects?"

"I learned that the easy and safe path is always downhill."

"Ha!"

And there came the winner of this Zen-like exchange.

Chairman Joo Man-ho couldn’t find a comeback.

Because “the easy and safe path is always downhill” was a phrase he himself had written in the conclusion of his autobiography.

‘Where the hell did this punk crawl out from?’

The rookie gave an answer he didn’t have to, and even laced it with a life lesson—toward someone approaching his sixtieth birthday.

Of course, he wasn’t about to change the direction of his business based on a mere rookie’s words.

Daecheon Group wasn’t some mom-and-pop store that could be swayed so easily.

However, a small stir arose in his heart.

“Well then, I’ll be heading in. Thank you.”

“Huh? We’re already here. It’s late, so finish up quickly and head home.”

It was a farewell tinged with regret at the brief encounter.

‘This kid would be perfect to tutor that son of mine studying abroad.’

Unshaken even when meeting the chairman, yet still polite and respectful, with a depth of thought that couldn’t be gauged in a few words—everything he wished his reckless son could learn.

Unfortunately, the new employee who had won his heart had too little experience.

‘Guilty. Why didn’t I think of that? If I need a tutor, I should just raise one myself!’

And Chairman Joo Man-ho had the power to do just that.

“Director Shin, did I wake you up? Ah, no, it’s nothing serious. That Kim Jinseong kid from the portal team—send him to the Strategic Planning Office starting tomorrow if possible.”

It was the moment the first button of the century-long plan to lead Daecheon Group into the future was fastened.

‘If only my son were half as decent as that kid.’

Seven years later, at a high-end bar in Gangnam.

This bar, located beneath a hotel and without even a sign, was tightly controlled from the entrance by two guards.

A secretive venue for VIPs who could drop several million won a night without blinking.

But in truth, it was a place messier than the shabbiest pojangmacha.

“Drink! No one’s leaving until we finish all of this! Hey! What’s this drink? One bottle per person again!”

A man pointed his finger at the waiter and shook a bottle of whiskey.

“That’s our Dohyeok, a real man’s man!”

“Real man, my ass.”

“You’re getting reassigned tomorrow, right? You’re being promoted to Manager, then Deputy GM, then GM, then Executive Director in just three years.”

“Exactly! WK Group had someone go from Executive Director to VP in three years. Our MBA boy Dohyeok will move even faster!”

“Foreign-educated guys are really different.”

The man who seemed to be the guest of honor tonight was apparently named Dohyeok.

A man with strong features, nearly 190cm tall, and a muscular build that looked like it would burst out of his leather jacket—he drew attention even without sitting at the head of the table.

Had he been born a bit earlier, people would have called him a general in the making.

Maybe that explained it?

His personality didn’t seem much different from his appearance.

“Shall we reset the glasses for you?”

“Didn’t I say bring the bottles? Just put them all down.”

“…Yes.”

“Isn’t this an insanely expensive drink?”

“About a hundred, probably?”

“Crazy, really? Then how much is all this? One, two, three…”

“Why are you counting like a loser? Don’t you know me? I’m Ju Dohyeok.”

With over ten people seated at the long table and one bottle per person, over ten million won’s worth of drinks had been spent at once.

“To be a group successor, you really need this kind of boldness. Or maybe it’s just in the bloodline.”

Click.

A man sitting to the right of the head of the table pulled out a cigarette and lit it for Dohyeok with both hands.

The exaggerated politeness of the action contrasted with the casual tone, creating a sense of dissonance—but in Dohyeok’s gathering, it felt natural.

Everyone was busy trying to flatter Dohyeok, each to varying degrees.

“That kind of thing is inborn. Look at the Samjung and Lude kids. They don’t even show up to parties like this.”

“This is all part of social life and networking.”

Most of the people gathered were, at most, in their late twenties.

Too young to be talking about corporate networking instead of business.

Yet their conversations sounded like those of company chairmen.

“Tch, they think the company grows by just sitting back and doing nothing.”

Gulp gulp.

Dohyeok scoffed and chugged whiskey straight from the bottle.

The other young men next to him scrambled to follow suit.

“Cough! Ugh.”

“Yuck! What percent is this stuff?”

Groans erupted all over the place.

It was the aftershock of drinking strong liquor straight from the bottle.

“You okay, Dohyeok?”

“Dohyeok can really hold his liquor. Never seen him drunk.”

“If you stay focused, it’s fine.”

“That’s easy for you to say—if we drink all this, we’ll die. No way. I’m taking mine home.”

“Ugh, why would you take home what you drank from? Are you homeless?”

“Oh? S-Sorry.”

At Dohyeok’s sharp remark, the rowdy drinking party turned silent.

Pat pat.

“Punk.”

Dohyeok tousled the hair of the young man who’d said he’d take the bottle home.

“You think I’d let you guys take some nasty used liquor? Hey! Give each of them one more bottle on the way out. No—make it two!”

“What are you all doing? Not clapping? You’re getting premium liquor and not even saying thanks?”

The young man who had lit Dohyeok’s cigarette hyped up the room again.

Clap clap clap clap.

What began as reluctant applause quickly turned into full-on standing ovation.

This drinking party that swung between heaven and hell depending on one man’s mood felt like a dictator’s banquet.

But for everyone except Dohyeok, there was no reason to refuse such uncomfortable meetings.

If you flattered him just enough, you could walk away with a bottle of high-end whiskey worth a million won on resale.

Thanks to Dohyeok’s wallet, they frequently visited upscale bars, went golfing, and even traveled abroad—luxuries they couldn’t afford on their own salaries.

“By the way, won’t you be too busy there to see us again? Managing new staff and stuff—it’s a lot of work.”

“Hey, I’m Ju Dohyeok. I’ll get a full grasp of the place in a day. Shut up and keep next week free at this time. The weather’s warming up—let’s hit the field.”

The only successor of Daecheon Group, Ju Dohyeok, had a schedule just like any other third-generation chaebol.

The personnel appointment letter, the reason for today’s gathering, was already soaked and stained with food and drink on the table, its contents unreadable.

This blissfully drunk party, clueless about who their superior would be tomorrow, ended up being their last supper.