Two Hours for a Smile
"The Harris flagship. The buyout's done."
The equity sat at six for me and four for Tennessee. Between Mad Bull and Capsulemon, the sales money was more than enough to cover what the acquisition had cost. Unlike Guccio, she'd sworn this time she wouldn't yield a single penny... and yet a warrant had been issued today, and Leona was taken into custody.
Tennessee looked ashamed of it.
"I didn't do it."
Of course he hadn't. The Duke of Grosvenor had surely stepped in himself. Even if I granted, a hundred times over, that it was Tennessee's doing, he hadn't invented a crime that wasn't there.
"You skim company money and hide it in a secret account, you get punished. That's all."
He still looked mortified. Well, fair enough. Once the Duke set out to shake a man down, Swiss accounts and everything else turned out not to exist. Before the name Grosvenor, there were no secrets. Tennessee seemed thoroughly uneasy with that fact.
"Then you change it."
"Huh?"
"When the day comes that you've inherited your father's power in full. You change it then."
But the kid seemed to see it differently.
"I'd be exactly the same."
"...?"
"There's an instinct carved into the blood..."
"Huh?"
"When have I ever been anything else?"
I wasn't listening to a word he said.
"You and your father are nothing alike. You're a completely different person. So why are you the one drawing the line first?"
At that he pushed his lip out in a pout. He didn't entirely agree. Even so, his face said the words had been no small comfort, and he asked, as if to change the subject.
"So how are you going to run the department store?"
"We'll see."
"You've already got someone in mind. I can tell."
He might not have been the single best person for the job. Still, I always kept an all-weather card in hand.
"P-president of a department store?"
Jo Sudeok looked freshly astonished.
"To be trusted with a department store, when my expertise is hardly..."
"I've learned something, doing business."
"...?"
"When things get murky, I go straight to the professor."
"...!"
"That way, at the very least, I don't lose money."
"And then the axe you trusted comes down on your own foot..."
"As a rule, isn't the axe you trust also the one that does the most work and brings in the most money?"
A department store lived on selling clothes. He was a professor at an art college, and he'd built real know-how discovering Faber, Tom Hood, and Luke Jacobs. Surely he would do a hundred times better than Leona Harris. Not that I could pay him a hundred times the salary.
"Your annual pay will be exactly what Leona Harris was receiving."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Not too little, is it?"
"T-too little? How could it be. I'm only worried whether I can even earn my keep on money like that..."
"You'll have to."
A shackle, filled with money. Jo Sudeok wrestled with whether he was allowed to look pleased, then opened his mouth.
"Since you've trusted me with this, I will be sure to deliver res—"
"You don't need to sell all that much."
"Sorry?"
"That business model you said you wanted to build in Manchester."
Every month a new brand would come in and open a shop in the form of a promotion.
"I'm thinking of trying it in our department store."
Sales weren't what mattered just yet.
"We only need people to gather."
"Like an amusement park?"
"Yes. Like an amusement park, or a football ground, or a theater."
Since we were already on the subject, we headed for the store. The last time I'd come, it hadn't felt like anything. Now that I was the owner, it was certainly different.
"The customers have thinned out."
"Even allowing for a weekday, there are definitely too few."
Perhaps because he was already thinking he had to draw people in, a heavy sense of duty rose across Jo Sudeok's face.
"You can take your time."
"Even so... I'm being paid..."
"There it is, isn't it?"
"Pardon?"
A joke. I let out a short laugh.
The flagship was two buildings: one an ordinary department store, the other a luxury hall. The ordinary store was larger, but if you looked only at sales, the luxury hall came out ahead.
"The pop-ups will be in the ordinary building."
"Then... the luxury hall can keep running as before?"
"For the time being, yes."
It was right after I answered. Staff from the luxury hall, dressed to the nines in suits, came streaming out of the building. Lunch must have been close. They headed for a chain nearby, then stood at the standing bar by the floor-to-ceiling glass and all but inhaled their sandwiches. After them, still more employees kept filing into the same shop.
No staff canteen?
Curious, we followed them in. The place was packed with people wearing gold badges stamped with the department store's mark. Hired for their looks, every one of them—handsome men, beautiful women. Luxury-hall staff, and the clothes were plainly expensive. The company had probably issued them. The reality, though, was that they had no time to sit, and took their meals on their feet. Finish eating and there was no coffee, not even a moment to digest, before they turned straight back to work.
"Their lunch must be far too short."
This was Britain. By labor law, a rest was of course guaranteed. Only, if the work was heavy and the staff were few, the pressure of being watched would drag them back early all by itself. Honestly... luxury hall, my foot.
What good is a glossy outside?
When you couldn't even let your own people eat in peace. Jo Sudeok, reading the room, drew out his notebook. He'd caught at once that orders were coming.
"First, build a staff canteen where they can eat all three meals."
"Ah, yes."
"And hire enough people. Arrange it so we can leave about two hours clear at lunch without a problem."
"Lunch... two hours?"
This damned store was forever hammering the staff to smile. Damn it—make a place where smiling is possible, and then give the order. They always seemed to think that once you commanded a thing, it simply got done.
"Boss, there's one thing I'd like to ask."
"...?"
"You said the money... could come in slowly. But if we hire people, and give them meals for free, then... where exactly are the funds supposed to come from..."
"A professional manager will find a way, I'm sure."
"A professional manager... would that happen to be the person I'm thinking of?"
At Jo Sudeok's question, I nodded, pleased.
In the car heading home, I watched the scenery beyond the window and sank into thought. For the staff's sake I'd just pushed up both the headcount and the rest, hard.
If Grandfather finds out, he'll have my hide.
I had no intention of insisting my way was right. Even so. It was a service job, plain and simple. The better the company treated them, the more loyalty they'd feel. The service would improve, and then, surely, customers would open their wallets of their own accord. I knew it was an idealistic story. I knew.
A man living his second life ought to have at least the nerve to dream of an ideal company.
While I was turning all that over, Jo Sudeok, hands on the wheel, asked.
"Boss, if you go in just tomorrow, the first term is over, isn't it?"
"Has it come to that already?"
"Aigo, you've even forgotten the holiday..."
I'd been buried in nothing but business. Of course I had.
"Will you be going back to Korea, then?"
"Shouldn't I rest a little before I go?"
"Actually, that was exactly what I wanted to ask."
"...?"
"What do you do, Boss, when you rest?"
What did I do when I rested. An utterly ordinary question.
"..."
Faced with it, nothing came to mind. Come to think of it, with Oxford Street open and the department store acquired, the work immediately in front of me was more or less finished. Now I truly needed to rest. And the moment I tried, nothing suitable appeared. I fobbed him off with something vague and quickly turned my head to the window.
The next day, there was nothing special about the end-of-term ceremony. The homeroom teacher came in, warned us not to let ourselves go too loose, and that was about the extent of it.
Ah!
Because he taught economics, there was one amusing thing.
"I've received the results of what you invested over the term. First place in returns is Julian Burnett."
The second son of Standard Bank, who loved to push himself forward. He rose with his shoulders loaded full of force, as if he meant to offer a word, but the teacher told him he could sit back down. Then the teacher turned my way.
"Jihun, you didn't submit."
"Ah, yes. I'm sorry. I was busy, and it slipped my mind."
"How did the investment go?"
"The amount you sent should still be sitting in the account, untouched."
"You never got around to it?"
I was about to apologize again.
"It's all right. Everyone knows what you've been doing all term, myself included."
"..."
"Thanks to you, I even received a ministerial commendation. I hadn't taught you a thing, so it was embarrassing. Still, it was an opportunity for me, so I took it. That's all right, isn't it?"
He was a teacher who had looked after me all term, so I bowed my head in thanks. When that brief ceremony ended, cheers and applause crashed down at once.
"Freedom!"
"And goodbye, for now, to this miserable school!"
Hm. I hadn't meant to say it—I'd sound like some crusty elder—but you lot, your school days are the happiest you'll... mmph.
I asked Peter, sitting beside me.
"What are you doing over the break?"
I'd given him the Super Family dev kit from before. Maybe that was why he was burning to make one proper thing.
"The one I mentioned... th-The Great Car Thief."
"Whoa!"
"When it's finished, bring it to me. I'll put it out, no question."
"I haven't even started..."
"First run of a hundred thousand, guaranteed!"
"If a hundred thousand sell, how much of that lands in my share?"
Peter was touchy about money to begin with. I let an approximate figure slip, lightly.
"Ghk!"
He went dizzy on the spot.
"I-I'd better go."
"Why?"
"No time to dawdle... I have to make it, fast."
Heh. Peter really packed his bag and shot out of the classroom.
Next was Jack.
"What are you doing on break?"
"I'm checking into a marine camp."
"How long?"
"A month."
A month was boot camp, plain and simple. If minors could enlist, that one would be sprinting for the draft office this very moment. Last, I turned to Tennessee.
"You?"
"Busy with Mad Bull."
Right. He'd said he would handle everything himself, from the buyout to the branding. So he meant to do it properly.
"And what about you?"
"Nothing planned, for now."
"...?"
"First I'm going home to clear Super Orlando World."
"What?"
"It's a launch title for the Super Family, and I haven't even properly played it."
Tennessee's eyes were trembling, just slightly. There was something he wanted to say, and a face that couldn't quite get it out. Fine. I'd help him.
"Have you ever been to my place?"
"No."
"Want to come, then?"
"Wh-why would I."
"I don't think that one's two-player."
"We can take turns."
"..."
Instead of answering, he packed his bag.
Pfft.
"Need a car?"
"It's right there. We can walk."
"Food?"
"We'll grab hamburgers on the way. Whatever."
We left the classroom side by side. And what was this. Second-years in volunteer sashes were wet-mopping the corridor.
"Spray more. Get it clean."
"It won't come off."
"What do you mean it won't? Hand it over. Put some strength into it and it wipes right up."
Then Ralph's eyes met mine. Awkward about it, he offered me an uneasy smile.