Chapter 128
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 128
Chapter Title: The Golden Age (4)
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La Choy Foods President Yoo Il-han gave his outfit one last check in the mirror before stepping out of the hotel.
For some reason, a strand of hair stuck out awkwardly, and his nose hairs didn't sit right. Dust had somehow settled on his clothes, which he quickly brushed off. He even mumbled through the alphabet absentmindedly.
Ready.
This was no ordinary invitation—it was from Kim Eugene himself.
He'd had his share of experiences running a business, but was Kim Eugene just anyone?
As he climbed into the taxi, his nerves didn't settle; if anything, they raced faster, syncing with the engine's rumble.
But the taxi heartlessly dropped him off at his destination and sped away with a whoosh.
Yoo Il-han approached the front gate slowly. There'd be a moment before anyone came out—
"Are you Mr. Yoo Il-han?"
"Eek!"
A tall young man was looking down at him.
"G-General Kim Eugene?"
"Not a general anymore. Just a major now."
"You weren't waiting out here at the gate because of me, were you?"
"I heard the car and stepped out for a look. Don't stand on ceremony—come on in."
That consideration was astonishing.
It was obvious he'd been waiting, yet he downplayed it so humbly—it only made him more admirable.
Dazed, Yoo followed him inside and soon found himself served warm refreshments.
He needed to pull himself together. He had so many questions.
He didn't buy that someone like this had invited him just for a casual chat. With how busy he must be, why bother getting chummy with a canned goods peddler?
As an investor, no doubt—that's what Yoo Il-han figured. So he poured his heart into explaining his current venture.
"—So, the market's only going to grow from here. Especially as mainstream white Americans start showing interest in Asian culture lately, we're reaping the benefits.
Have you seen how Americans are obsessed with mahjong these days? They're moving past the Yellow Peril talk and trying to understand other cultures. We're leading the charge in food, spreading the word about Asia."
"I see. A fine idea, worthy of an enterprising young businessman. I'm just a humble soldier, so I don't know much about business, but hearing you out makes me optimistic about America's doors opening wider."
Did I... nail it?
Kim Eugene nodded in satisfaction, tilting his coffee cup, and Yoo felt his tension easing.
"Does Mr. Yoo have a goal in running your business?"
"A goal, you say?"
"Sure, it's about making money. But listening to you, it seems less like money for its own sake and more like a means to pursue something you truly want."
True to his reputation as a young general, Kim Eugene saw right through him.
"I'm... not as grand as you think. This company started because a good product idea hit me out of the blue."
"Most people wouldn't jump into starting a business just because an idea pops up. You've accomplished far more than you give yourself credit for."
"Then let me ask you something."
The issue weighing on him most lately.
This man might have the answer, Yoo thought, so he slowly voiced the worries filling his head.
"My father spent his fortune sending me to this distant land. He always said to become someone who could do great things for Joseon."
"A fine man."
"But now he clicks his tongue at what I've become. After over ten years in America, is peddling bean sprouts all you've got? That's what he says."
"......"
"What can someone like me do to contribute to our country?"
General Kim closed his eyes without a word, then asked permission to smoke.
Only when his cigarette had nearly burned down did he speak.
"So, are you thinking of wrapping up your business and heading back to Joseon?"
"My heart says yes. That's why he sent me here to study. But this head I've filled with solid knowledge balks at abandoning a promising business to return."
"Of course. That's natural."
He acknowledged it calmly.
"Let me share a bit from my war days. For frontline soldiers bleeding and fighting bravely, farmers harvest food, factories process it, ships and trucks haul it so they get three squares.
Guns, bullets, uniforms—all pass through countless hands. You need planners and overseers for the long supply chains. Are their contributions lesser than those who bleed?"
"No."
"You could head to Shanghai tomorrow and join the independence fighters as a grunt. But sending that $10,000 from bean sprout sales would help them more.
Think the other way. Plenty of patriots in Joseon ready to shoot Japs fill mountains and rivers. But among those with resources to feed and clothe them, how many are free of pro-Japanese filth? You're in business—Joseon's half their size, so we fight smarter than anyone."
Yes.
This was the answer he craved.
Words he'd known but couldn't say to his father, coming from the man hailed as Joseon's—and Asia's—hero.
"If it still bothers you, how about partnering with me on a business for the nation?"
"What's that?"
"Sorry, but I can't share details until you commit. I can only say it's one that contributes to Korean self-reliance and independence."
If canned veggies really nag at you, switching might help more.
Kim Eugene's words struck deeper than ever.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My heart's pounding like it'll burst.
Always the same—talking to independence contributors makes me feel like a criminal.
Look at this: I'm luring the guy who'll go back and found Yuhan Corporation someday.
His eyes shone with admiration, so I struggled to keep a stern face. Hope he didn't notice my hand shaking with the cigarette. If he did, my image is toast.
Mr. Yoo said he'd think it over.
"I'm just a lowly bean sprout seller with nothing to show. I wonder if I'm worthy of the grand undertaking you mention, General."
"Haha."
"Right here in L.A., there's 'Rice King' Kim Jong-rim. In academics, Jo Byung-ok studying math at Columbia now. Even Kim Maria, a woman, is so active. Compared to them, I'm just chasing personal gain."
Damn, now even a booze and gun dealer like me feels awkward.
What to do? Push harder?
I settled for making the acquaintance and moved to the next priority.
"Ebebebebeb—peekaboo!"
"Kyaa!"
Keeping Alice from forgetting Daddy.
That dream was too traumatic. I've seen soldiers posted alone wreck their families in past and present lives—not just once or twice.
This era's wilder, sure. Heroes get a pass on womanizing—East or West.
So make hay while the sun shines. No fixing the barn after losing the ox.
Sorry, sir. I can't go all-in on Korean independence, ditching family and fortune.
But I'll build the new Republic of Korea way better than original history.
"Impossible."
One afternoon.
My modest hopes of meeting my big bro, Charles Curtis Jr., were crushed instantly.
"Shipbuilding's the pinnacle of modern capital and tech. Massive funds, highly skilled labor, tech savvy, huge equipment. Your family's made good money... but why jump in?"
"That tough?"
No, WWII history shows America churning out transports and carriers like burger patties.
"You think it's like making scrambled eggs. Sure, enough money gets you in. But that cash could fund endless other ventures. Doesn't add up."
Expert advice—gotta listen. Ngh.
Still regrettable.
'Liberty ships' prove it: WWII explodes ship demand. Missing that action? Brutal.
"But why shipbuilding, of all things?"
"Needed lots of labor seemed a plus."
"Best for building a base. But not necessarily ships. Other reasons?"
"Being in the military, I've realized the U.S. Army lacks ways to ship troops."
"What do you mean?"
My wheelhouse now.
Unless fighting Canada or Mexico, America's crossing vast oceans—Atlantic or Pacific.
Last war was easier—scrape merchant fleets worldwide for transport.
But dropping troops on tiny Pacific islands or Nazi-held Europe? No regular merchants. Need landing-optimized ships.
"So you want to bid on that."
"What do you think?"
"Still impossible. Obvious, right? Big players would kill for it. Like your tank patents—royalties if you're developing."
True, zero ship knowledge.
"Landing means not docking at ports, right?"
"Exactly. Enemy controls ports."
"Regular ships can't approach."
"Yeah."
Landing—like Saving Private Ryan, those—
"If your future prediction holds, ships yes, but not giant freighters... small wooden boats might be the money-maker?"
"Huh, yeah. Boats. Who's best at boats now?"
He looked at me like I look at Yushin—like, you idiot.
"Best military boats? Tied to your business, kinda."
"Mine?"
"Yeah. Bootleggers use the damned best boats."
No, we're 100% legit! Unfair. A civil servant like me tangling with smugglers? Career suicide.
"Anyway, confident in bidding?"
"Gotta try. Nothing yet. Just learned about boats."
"No, no. I'm no military expert, but... isn't that Navy?"
What? Not Army?
Navy's turf is trouble. World runs on rice-cake politics; Navy gig means their cliques laughing it off.
This might fizzle before starting... but that bowl looks too sweet to ditch.