The Manchester Model

Sleep would not come.

My talk with Olivia had left a small ripple behind in my chest.

A father.

When her years abroad were finished, she would have somewhere to return to. Perhaps that was why she already seemed to be packing for the journey home. Fair enough. That day was bound to arrive.

I remembered a line I had read in a book as a child. A gosiwon—one of those cramped rooms people rent while they cram for the exams—is a place you enter in order to leave. True enough. Nobody lives in a gosiwon in order to settle down. They go there because, someday, they mean to get out.

London was exactly that for me. Nothing but a station. I was staying here to keep out of Grandfather's sight, but I would have to go back to Korea. That much was certain.

Three years, if it was short.

Seven, if you counted university.

The trouble was when I would be going back. Around the time those university years ended, the Republic of Korea would be struck by an enormous crisis.

The IMF.

When the country met that storm, would I be able to ignore the company's call? Hard times for everyone. What excuse would I have for running around on my own, just so I could stay comfortable?

Nnngh.

Once my thoughts reached that far, sleep was out of the question. And what—was I supposed to step forward and stop the IMF myself?

"..."

Knowing a little of the future didn't mean I could ask that much of myself. The realistic course was probably just to prepare, so Hyeon-gang would not be shaken when the IMF arrived.

Right.

If I laid the groundwork carefully over those seven years, so that even in a crisis there would be no need to summon me?

That was when Grandfather's speech came back to me.

The moment he had proclaimed Design's Hyeongang.

Yes. If I finished Grandfather's goal ahead of schedule, there would be no reason for anyone to need me.

Once the water found a channel, the thoughts burst the bank and kept coming.

Design's Hyeongang.

This was not something you solved by dragging in outside capital and buying up a few design firms. It had to become a company that designers longed to join.

And for that...

First I had to pull off a mythical result that this industry would talk about for years. For instance, building a new commercial district in Manchester. Why not? Take the money earned there and pour it straight back into the design business. If that cycle could be kept alive, winning the name Design's Hyeongang would not be impossible.

Which meant, all the more, that the Manchester model had to land cleanly.

Maybe that was why my head was such a tangle. I turned over, and turned again. The night had grown deep, and still I could not sleep.

The Manchester Industrial Estate.

Abandoned factories.

The place Baker had come to was the far edge of the estate, where the land was cheapest of all. There were plenty of failed plants, true enough. But opening a store here—was that even a story that made sense?

He scratched his head. He couldn't make sense of it, and so what? He didn't need to understand. The thinking belonged entirely to the president. A man underneath only had to help.

Baker went first to an estate agent who was said to have this district locked in his grip. He explained the situation, and the answer that came back was, unexpectedly, full of fuss.

"Well, aren't you the romantic."

"...?"

"Who's going to let you sell goods on factory land? If that were possible, the people here would have done it already."

In plain words, it was illegal.

"Planning to petition the councillors and get the use changed, are you?"

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean, you're not sure? You'll have to give me the plan if I'm to look into it alongside you."

"..."

"Ah. You don't rightly know, do you. Money comes from the man upstairs, and you're just here to look at buildings. That the feeling?"

Baker had nothing to say, and while his mouth stayed shut the man put on a thin smile.

"Then it'll take a good while to report back and wait for orders to come down. Won't it?"

"Well, I suppose..."

"Let's do it this way. No point wearing out your shoes. How about we look at a map and talk? You're not the one who decides."

It felt rather like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠being looked down on, but for the moment he had no choice but to nod. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The agent soon pointed at a map pinned to the wall and began his explanation.

And what was this? He was calling prices as much as fifty percent above the going rates Baker had roughly looked up.

"Well, you said you were opening a store. Then you've got to pay a proper price."

"But it's still zoned as a factory..."

"Ever seen a price tag stuck on property? The number swings with the future value. That's how it works."

Further talk was pointless.

Hah.

They hadn't treated him like this in London. Baker was swallowing the bitterness of it when the bell jangled. The shop door flew open, and a man came striding into the agency. To Baker's astonishment, he held out a hand.

"Just as I heard. Having a hard time of it, away from home."

Wait. This man was—

"M-Mr. Cho?"

The previous afternoon. The chairman's office at Hyeon-gang headquarters, Park Yonghak's room.

Jo Sudeok was hurrying there in a rush, summoned without warning. The truth was, the moment he took the call, fear had dropped on him ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first.

Why on earth would the Chairman be looking for me...

But what could he do? When you were called, you dropped everything and ran.

Contrary to his worries, Chairman Park welcomed him with a smile.

"Sorry for dragging a busy man out."

"I stay busy thanks to you, Chairman. I hadn't even come to pay my respects, so I hurried over, grateful for the chance."

Jo Sudeok bowed deeply, and only then went on.

"But what brings you to..."

"Been worried, ever since that rascal Jihoon went off to England."

"...?"

"Says he left the business he already had with some Japanese friend."

"Ah. Yang Eokgwan."

"Boy's restless, that one. Sounds like he's fixing to start something else over in England too."

"He does overflow with ideas. Sitting still may be difficult for him..."

Here Chairman Park let a beat pass, then opened his mouth again.

"Professor Jo. You've done a fair bit of work with our boy, haven't you."

"Yes."

"Then you know well enough. Having him put you to work is a bit rough, isn't it."

"It's less that it's hard... the work itself is often peculiar, so..."

By this point the quick-witted Jo Sudeok could more or less read the chairman's mind. The one helping the president with his work in England was Baker, wasn't it?

That fellow isn't enough for him.

He had heard the man was sharp enough, but that would only be in sports, his own field.

"So here's what I'm thinking. What if our Professor Jo went to London as a research professor?"

"...!"

"If you want it, I figure we can make a place for you at King's College."

King's College London sat inside the world's top forty. A research professorship, besides, was a post where he would not even have to lecture. He could devote himself entirely to his work. And above all else—

A chance to work in step with the president!

Where was the fool who would turn that down? Jo Sudeok bent at the waist at once.

"You've looked after me every time. I hardly know where to put myself..."

"I'll put in a good word at the school, so wouldn't it be better to fly out tomorrow?"

"T-tomorrow?"

"What? You itching to go today?"

For an instant he thought Park Jihoon the president had possessed the old man. Maybe impatience ran in the Park blood. Anyway!

"Since you've brought it up, I ought to go. I'll get ready and leave tomorrow."

The words were hardly out before Chairman Park took a bankbook from the drawer and held it out.

"When you get there, find yourself a house first."

"Sir?"

"What are you so startled for."

"No, even so..."

"What? Send you to England and not even fix you a house?"

At the chairman's words, Jo Sudeok bent nearly double and bowed once more, deep and large.

Manchester. Jo Sudeok took Baker and stepped outside the agency for the time being. Baker, startled, asked what on earth had happened. It was a long story, and Jo hated long stories.

"Heard you were having a rough time, so I came by. And it looks like I came at the right moment."

Perhaps it was the feeling of having found a solid reinforcement. Baker let out a sigh of relief, and only then spoke.

"Shall we find a café nearby?"

A Bentley was parked a ten-minute walk away. He seemed to have left it at a distance and come on foot, afraid the smell of money might carry.

Tsk.

He had used his head, but the details were lacking, as expected.

"A Bentley limousine in a neighborhood this small. Park it as far off as you like, and the talk still gets around in no time."

"I—I was trying to be careful..."

"Wouldn't you rest easier buying a used car and running it for business? We're in Britain. Something like a Vauxhall Corsa. That would be just about right."

"...Ah."

"I could talk forever, so let's just get in."

Baker and Jo Sudeok climbed in, one after the other.

"I'll probably have to teach you this and that all day today anyway."

"I hope I'm not putting you to needless trouble..."

"Since it's come to this, how about we start by taking the polish off the way we talk?"

"Gladly. Please speak freely."

"Shall I, then?"

"I was uncomfortable with it as it was."

"Well, we've known each other a good while."

"Th-then I'll take you as my senior."

"Oh, come on. Senior, really..."

He said it that way, but Jo Sudeok did not look at all as if he disliked the exchange.

"Forget the café. Nearest charity shop."

"A charity... clothes shop?"

"If we're going around looking at factories, a suit and dress shoes aren't quite the thing."

At Jo Sudeok's word the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠engine growled, and Baker hurriedly started the car.

Jo Sudeok bought a work jacket and a pair of battered boots. Then, instead of going back to the estate agent, he went straight to the chairman of the city council.

The chairman of the council stood second in ceremonial rank, right behind the mayor. Not a man just anyone could hope to meet. But breaking through that sort of thing was Jo Sudeok's specialty, wasn't it?

I sent a gift to the Queen herself!

The chairman of Manchester City Council? Heh.

A few phone calls, and he had the appointment. They were waiting outside the chairman's office when Baker spoke.

"Director, we're still meeting the chairman. Wouldn't a suit be better?"

At that, Jo Sudeok lifted the corner of his mouth, just a little.

Manchester, true to its history as an industrial city, was as good as a Labour stronghold. In other words, everyone from the mayor down to the councillors was friendly to labor.

Nobody loses by wearing a work jacket. Not a chance.

His explanation had just about ended when a young secretary appeared.

"Would you come this way?"

He showed the two of them into the chairman's office.

"You want to acquire abandoned factories?"

"Yes."

"Then you ought to go find the factory owners. Why come to me..."

"I understand the city of Manchester owns some of the factories directly."

At Jo Sudeok's words the chairman let out a hollow laugh, as if he could hardly believe it. Was a reaction like this all too familiar? Jo Sudeok opened his mouth with a calm face.

"I was told that during the Second World War, the city bought up a number of factories in order to produce munitions."

"..."

"After the war, the sites in good locations were sold off or leased. But quite a few, I hear, are still awkward to dispose of. Left sitting there."

"So you want me to hand the white elephants over cheap. Is that it?"

"No. I have no intention whatsoever of buying them cheap."

"...Then?"

Jo Sudeok poured out the plan he had prepared.

"The intention couldn't be finer. But since when has the world run on will alone?"

"Oh, of course. What's more important than will is power."

Jo Sudeok did not hitch this time either.

"If I may speak of our JH Network..."

He gave a brief briefing on the distribution network they had built in North America.

"With this much, wouldn't you say we have the power to see a will through?"

Perhaps it was because every case he cited was a substantial success. By this point the other man had no choice but to change his attitude.

"Hmm."

Sure enough, the chairman rested his chin on his hand and sank quietly into thought. Several minutes passed that way.

"To open stores on factory land, a change of use would be essential."

"Which is why I said I wouldn't take them cheap."

"..."

"It would be strange, wouldn't it, to talk about contributing to local development and then ask for the city's property at a bargain?"

The real objective, in the end, was acquiring Manchester United. They needed the city council's help, so building a good relationship now would be a hundred times better.

That was when the chairman spoke.

"This isn't something I can decide alone. The councillors have to agree, and above all, the mayor's final approval..."

"But you have the power to see your will through, Chairman. Don't you?"

Jo Sudeok gave the man's own words straight back to him, then let a small smile show.

If those troublesome munitions factories were reborn as a new commercial district, the chairman who had been deeply involved would be first in line for the next mayoralty—and beyond that, he might even aim for national politics.

"It won't be easy to settle within this session."

"Of course. You're the one doing the great work. We should be the ones fitting your schedule, Chairman."

Perhaps he thought the answer was already in. As if his mind were made up, the chairman gave a quiet nod.