The Answer Was Manchester United
I had always been the one who had to persuade somebody. Every time, I turned the problem over until I found a way to open the other person's heart. That, after all, was the heart of business.
In that respect, the mayor of Manchester was a little short on practice.
Well, he was a politician. When a private company walked in with a proposal, he was used to sitting in judgment on it. Where would he ever have gone out and won a deal himself?
"What would you like me to solve for you?"
"Don't people usually arrive with that already prepared?"
"...Pardon?"
"I think about what the other side needs most, and I only prepare the next step once I have an answer."
"Ah."
The mayor's face went glum. Even so, he must have been desperate.
"Then... you're a businessman, so deregulation, or... there must be some way I can be of help......"
"I don't need special favors."
"...!"
"We're running every venture without a single thing that breaks the law. There's no reason at all for you to make allowances for us."
"S-still... there must have been a reason you considered Manchester in the first place."
Of course there was.
Manchester United.
I had even inquired openly at city hall. Was digging up that record really such a difficult thing?
Tsk.
Perhaps because he couldn't get a read on me at all, he came out with something I hadn't expected.
"President, then... would it be all right if the City of Manchester made a business proposal to you instead?"
"A business proposal?"
"Yes. I've brought something prepared."
Now I almost felt sorry for him.
Well. He came a long way.
I ought to let him say everything he wanted to say.
He soon drew a sheaf of papers from his bag.
"The first proposal is... a Capsulemon theme park."
"...?"
"The first in the world. What if we built an amusement park themed around Capsulemon? The city would put up the construction costs, and you, President, would only need to grant the character rights......"
"And the profits?"
"We'd split them, of course. Since the city bears the cost of building it, the dividend would be something like nine to one......"
He stole a glance at my face, then started negotiating on the spot.
"I—I misspoke. Eight and a half to one and a half feels exactly right. Haha."
"It's an IP that can't fail, isn't it? This one is guaranteed to run for the long haul."
Oddly enough, his instincts were good.
"There's always a chance it fails."
That much was true. Seeing that my reaction wasn't bad, he pressed straight on.
"There's a second venture as well. We build Europe's largest Mad Bull plant in Manchester. The job creation would be substantial, so from the land purchase onward the city would help......"
"If the point is easy export, wouldn't Liverpool be better? It's a port city."
"No, no."
The moment Liverpool came up, the mayor had a fit.
"The roads are perfectly good these days. How much more could freight really cost? If—if you want, we can even widen the roads."
Was that a special favor, or a local government's honest effort to lure a company in?
Hard to say.
I was tilting my head when he went on.
"You won't be mayor forever, will you?"
"Pardon?"
"If the mayor changes, the whole project could fall apart."
"I'll take responsibility for this! I'll push until it's nailed down as party policy."
"Thinking of trying for national politics while you're at it?"
"Ah, well, not exactly that. It's just that one has to become a bigger politician... if one wants to pull off big things. Haha."
I had no desire to boost anyone's career with my businesses. I also had no intention of stopping a partner's weight class from rising while he worked with me. That was entirely his own affair.
Even so.
"What I want from Manchester isn't that."
A huge question mark seemed to rise over the mayor's head.
"Then what......"
"Before you ask, why don't you think it through first?"
"Ah."
"Shall we leave it here for today?"
He had turned up without an appointment, so he couldn't have had much left to say.
"If an idea comes to me... may I call you separately?"
"Of course."
I gave the mayor a small bow.
Tennessee, having fled (?) from Park Jihoon, was meeting Dmitri, if only for the sake of his conscience. The two got straight into a meeting. The subject, of course, was marketing.
"It's an energy drink, so we really need the dynamic image of sports."
Dmitri did most of the talking. Tennessee mostly listened.
"Sponsoring a major sport costs a fortune... and there are those modest little minor sports, aren't there? I was thinking we might pitch something along those lines."
"Don't worry about the money."
"What?"
"I'm a Grosvenor."
"Ah. Yes, yes."
"You like cars, don't you?"
"I—I love them to death."
"How about putting the Mad Bull logo on an F1 team?"
"It's what I've dreamed of my whole life."
"Then I'll move on it right away. My father is already sponsoring McLaren, so......"
"Um, President."
"...?"
"McLaren... does have the best results these days, yes. But our brand's symbol is a bull. Red, in other words."
"And?"
"If we're going to put the Mad Bull mark on Formula One anyway, I think screaming-red Ferrari would be the better fit."
The house that had made red the first color anyone pictured at the words sports car. Ferrari, without question.
"I heard you're planning to acquire an F1 team next year......"
"You're saying it would be better all around if that team were Ferrari?"
"That's right."
Hoo.
Anyone who loved cars wanted a Ferrari in his hands. But.
"It isn't a brand you can buy just because you have the money."
"...?"
"Ferrari is the heart of Italy."
Offer a man any fortune you liked. He still couldn't hand over his own life.
"Ha... I suppose you've already thought it through more than I have."
Dmitri laughed, a little abashed, and went on.
"I got stuck on red, so that's all I keep seeing. The Chicago Bulls even have a similar name, so they seem perfect. Closer to home, Manchester United and Liverpool wear red kits too."
Dmitri looked more or less resigned. And yet, for some reason—
"......"
The name Ferrari had caught hard in Tennessee's chest.
What would Park Jihoon have done? Hearing that money couldn't buy it, would he have given up on the spot?
Not a chance.
Even if the sky split in two, he would have found a way and gotten his hands on it anyway.
No... stack myself against Park Jihoon and I'm the only one who loses!
Tennessee shook his head at once, as if driving out an evil spirit (?).
That night, left alone in the big house, I felt strange. Buried in work, I had never noticed. The moment I tried to rest, the place felt bleak.
Tsk.
I did need to rest. It was a little ridiculous that I had no idea how.
Call Jo Sudeok, and he'd be busy with the department store. Tennessee... I had just seen him.
I let out a short laugh. At this rate even Teacher Devon was going to come up.
But that thought lasted only a moment. And why shouldn't it be Teacher Devon?
I flipped through my notebook and dialed his number. A moment later a booming voice came through.
"Who is this?"
First words out of his mouth, and it was who are you. Anyone listening would have thought he was angry.
"Hello, Teacher. It's......"
"Jihoon?"
"You got it in one?"
"Why? First day of break, and something's already wrong?"
"Nothing, really."
"Bored?"
He couldn't see me, but I nodded anyway.
"So? You want to work out?"
"I am never working out with you again."
"Heh heh heh."
"Have you eaten?"
"Not yet."
"Then buy me dinner."
"Where are you?"
"Home. Near school."
"You know the pizza place I always go to? Come there."
I got there first and put in the order. A little later, from out in front of the shop, came an engine that sounded like hoofbeats. A tough guy's emblem: a Harley-Davidson. It suited Teacher Devon perfectly. An expensive-looking helmet, set down with a careless thunk, and then he came trudging in. Red Wing boots. Vintage Levi's. And... huh?
Wasn't that the new Ultimate × Malenciaga hoodie?
"Teacher, you bought that?"
"Bought what?"
"You should have said something. I would have given it to you."
"I really want to take you up on that. So, so badly!"
But.
"We're teacher and student, aren't we."
"What does that have to do with it?"
"My student opened a shop. I've got to buy something. What else am I supposed to do?"
At a glance, it almost sounded reasonable.
"Opened a shop... isn't exactly wrong. But it isn't exactly an ordinary shop, either."
"That's true too."
"Sell one item and the monthly pay just......"
"I'm dying over here too."
Even he seemed to find it absurd. He burst out laughing.
"You order the pizza?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Cheese for me."
"I'm still torn between combination and supreme."
"I figured, so I ordered both."
For once, he smiled like a happy man. Right on cue, three pizzas came out one after another.
I grinned. Was there anything better than pizza fresh from the oven? Lift a slice, and the cheese came stretching after it.
"If we're going to eat pizza every time we meet, why not just open a place?"
He didn't answer. He ate first. Four slices in a row, maybe.
"Who's going to run it?"
"You would, Teacher."
"All I know how to do is eat the stuff. What would I......"
And then, all at once:
"Wait! Now that I think about it, why couldn't I? Was anybody born with cheese in their mouth? I can just learn from here."
I had only tossed it out as a joke. And yet—had my brain been optimized for business by now? Sit still, and the ideas kept coming anyway.
"You like American pizza, right?"
"Obviously. Pizza is America!"
There was a company that fit him exactly. Mama John's. Salty, greasy, and somehow impossible to stop eating—real American pizza. I had heard the founding story once, and it was pretty good. The man decided he could make something tastier than that, actually opened a shop, and hit it big.
"I ate that all the time when I was studying abroad."
"Then do you actually want to try? I can send you to America as soon as tomorrow."
When a conversation leapt forward like that, a normal person was supposed to flinch. Teacher Devon was clearly not a normal person.
"Deal! How much money should I get ready?"
"Get ready for what? Just take yourself."
In the end I had gone out for a meal and talked about nothing but work again. I had sat down with the man in the world farthest from business, and this was what came out of my mouth.
Jihoon. When are you going to rest?
This would not do. No matter what anyone said—absolutely—I was going to rest, and I was going to do it properly.
Right. What's so hard about resting?
Give yourself a clean gift for all the hard days. That was rest. What do you want, Jihoon? I'll blow at least a few hundred million on you.
I was padding back into the dark house when it happened.
Rrrring. Rrrring.
The bell tore through the quiet, hauling me back into the real world. It cut off once, and a moment later it rang again. Usually people left a message and let it go. Calling twice?
I picked up the receiver, and sure enough a familiar voice came through.
"President! I'm sorry to call so late."
The mayor of Manchester, as expected.
"It's just—I think I know what you want."
"......"
Hm.
Was I... really going to get any rest?
I only blinked, quietly.