The Characters Are Mine
Hideo's characters would belong to me. The astonishing part was that Hideo himself stood to lose nothing whatsoever, and the reason was simple.
He made them on a company salary, didn't he?
Whatever Hideo had created, the rights were Daisho's. I wasn't taking his share. What I was taking was Daisho's property.
You'd be better off signing them over to me, too.
I was a longtime fan of his, after all. Out of nothing but respect, I would stuff his quarterly bonus until it bulged... ahem.
Nothing beats a little financial therapy.
While I turned all of that over on my own, Hideo was still wearing a blank, stunned face.
What I want to invest in is you, Miyamoto Hideo. Only you.
He seemed to be chewing on the words I had spoken a moment ago. Had they really moved him that much?
"Hello?"
"......"
"Hideo-san?"
His eyes found their focus by degrees, and he whipped around to face me.
"I—I'm sorry. None of this quite feels real, so I just..."
"It's all right."
"Ah, then, President... how should we set the revenue split?"
"As I said before, fifty-fifty. On the condition that I hold the rights to your characters."
"Are you... truly certain you won't regret going through with it?"
"That's what I ought to be asking you."
"Sorry?"
"You created them. Someone else would own them. You won't regret that?"
"To be perfectly honest..."
"......?"
"Nothing you've said feels real to me yet. Right now, selling the arcade boards is all I can think about..."
Fair enough. The hurdle in front of him was steep enough that the distant future could wait.
"I understand. You can hardly spare the attention for that. But there is one promise I want to make perfectly clear."
"A promise?"
"That I'll treat the characters you made with care, and that I'll share with you every dollar they earn. That ought to cover the bare minimum of what I owe you, don't you think?"
"It still doesn't feel real, but... th-thank you, even for the words alone..."
"Words alone? We'll put this in the contract, too."
"Pardon?"
"That way you can give yourself wholly to the work, Hideo-san."
He swallowed. His throat bobbed once more.
Someday, you'll be glad it was me.
I held out my hand without a word. He seized it hard—Hideo's answer could not have been more violent.
Thirty minutes later, finished with his call to headquarters, he wore the happiest face in the world.
"They've given their permission!"
"That's a relief."
He looked happier than I was.
"Headquarters wouldn't stop asking why anyone would want my characters. I had no idea what to tell them, so I just stood there scratching my head."
I let out a short breath of a laugh.
"Their interest in me didn't last, though. After that they kept asking about the size of the investment. The moment I said five million dollars at the low end and ten million at the high, they told me to draw up the contract at once. Get the signature before he changes his mind, they said."
They really were that hard up for cash.
"Now that we have the go-ahead, shall we draft the contract the way headquarters wants?"
"Ah, about that..."
"......?"
"They said they've never seen a contract this unusual, so there's no sample they can properly refer to."
"What do you need a sample for? Write down the split, add a single special clause, and you're done."
"But without a manual, the mood over there is... a little panicked."
Right. The Japanese do love a manual.
"Then I'll draft it and show you. Would you run it by headquarters' legal team?"
"W-we don't have a legal team yet, I don't think..."
"An outside counsel, then?"
Scratch, scratch. Hideo looked mortified.
"Fine. I'll write the contract, and we review it with an American lawyer present. That work?"
"Ah, that would be best."
Hand the same job to Jo Sudeok and it would be settled in five minutes. How many steps was Japan planning to take? It was an afternoon that left me missing the way Jo Sudeok got things done.
At that same hour, in a laboratory at Boston University, the interviews for the authentication team were being held one-on-one. Martin asked the questions, and the student across from him answered. Jo Sudeok was there as well—not as an interviewer, but to keep Martin suitably in check. In theory.
Contrary to that worry, Jo hardly had to step in at all. Martin was running the interviews by a standard entirely his own. After a brief conversation with each candidate, he set down a one-line math problem. By his account it was the worst difficulty there was; even he, he said, had only managed to solve it once he reached high school. Allegedly.
One confident candidate after another drank the bitter cup.
"At this rate, will anyone pass?"
When Jo Sudeok asked, Martin answered with a small smile.
"They don't have to solve it."
"......?"
"I'm watching how they treat the problem."
"Their attitude?"
"There are problems that steal your breath just from being read. That's when a person's real character comes out."
"Oh-ho."
"Some of them get a smile at the corner of the mouth the moment they decide it's hard. They get stuck, and stuck again, and still call it fun and keep charging in. People like that don't fold easily."
"I saw someone earlier ask what the answer was."
"Those are instant fails. We're hiring people to build the path to a solution, and they want the answer handed to them before they've even started. Wrong from the first step."
"So that Harvard fellow from earlier is already out?"
"Of course."
"Ah... he had such an easy, genial face."
Even as he said it, Jo Sudeok pressed nothing at all about the hiring. It was his way of saying he trusted Martin's standard.
Time passed until every applicant had been seen. Predictably enough, not a single one of them had solved the problem.
"So how many did you take on attitude alone?"
"The interview isn't over."
"Hm?"
Startled, Jo Sudeok rifled through the papers, wondering if someone had been left off the list. No matter how many times he checked, the result did not change.
"You mean you're still scoring them?"
"No. I mean the interview hasn't ended."
"......?"
"I told you. I look at attitude."
"Don't tell me you're checking how they behave after the interview is over."
Another nod.
"Ha!"
"There should still be a few out in the hall, working the problem for fun."
At that, Jo Sudeok flung the laboratory door open. Just as Martin had said, three nerds were scribbling away, and every one of them wore a happy face. The door shut with a bang, and Jo turned to Martin.
"So we hire those three?"
"Yes. I'll leave it to you."
That night I returned to the hotel and met Jo Sudeok first.
"You held the interviews?"
"Yes. I only observed. Martin conducted them himself."
"You look satisfied."
"He has a clear standard of his own. There was no need to object."
"Hearing that from you, Professor, I have high hopes."
"Aigoo, have I already earned that much of your trust?"
"You know the answer. Why ask?"
"Praise feels new every time I hear it."
I laughed under my breath.
"The team's in place. Time we headed home."
"I'll prepare at once."
"Before that..."
"......?"
"There will be equipment we need for the authentication. Since we've come all the way to America, I'd like to buy it all and take it with us."
"Ah. I already looked into that."
I hadn't even asked, and he was ahead of me?
"Don't buy it. Borrow it?"
"Yes. If the work is authenticating a da Vinci, Seoul National University will be glad to allow it."
"And if they don't?"
"I am a professor at that university."
Fair point.
"Thanks to you, the authentication side seems more or less settled."
"I'll see it through to the end without a single gap."
Was there anyone else who put me at ease the way Jo Sudeok did? And while we were on the subject, one thing more.
"Professor, I'd like to establish a business of mine in the United States."
"A business?"
I gave him a brief account of the day with Hideo.
"So you mean a company to manage intellectual property."
"Yes."
Jo Sudeok did not ask whether it would make money. He was not the type to pry, and given everything I had already earned, he had likely decided there was no need to doubt me.
"I want to take Daisho's North American revenue through that company."
"Forming a company isn't difficult, but you'll need an office."
"Then we buy one."
"As expected. I do like how decisive you are."
He grinned.
"And the staff on site..."
"I mean to lease it out."
"......?"
"There's a man working under a layer of warehouse dust. I'd rather he had a proper place to do it."
"A friend in the president's particular favor... I find myself suddenly envious."
I laughed again, low in my throat.
"Then, as you said, we'll contract the building first and launch the company after."
"Good."
"Shall I look around Boston?"
"We're spending the money anyway. I'd like the land to rise."
"New York would suit, then."
New York. Yes, buildings there would climb plenty. But New York was already obscenely expensive.
"Let's do San Francisco."
"The West Coast?"
"Yes. Santa Clara, specifically. Somewhere near Stanford would be good."
Why leave New York behind?
A brief question crossed Jo Sudeok's eyes, but as ever he did not ask. If he had, I would have given him a short answer: Apple, Google, Microsoft, Intel, AMD, Nvidia, and the rest. Countless companies had been born right there, in Silicon Valley. There was no need to say aloud what had surfaced in my head.
"Just find me a reasonable listing."
"A building of yours, and you say reasonable? I'll bring in an expert and secure the very best site there is."
"You don't do a single thing halfway."
"Logging one more compliment!"
Heh heh heh.
In any case, the authentication work was settled, and the contract with Hideo was wrapping up. Now it really was time to go back to Korea.
How long has it been?
And yet, the moment I thought of going home, the first thing that came to mind was the soybean-paste stew Song Suhee had simmered. I cleared my throat.
It must be... it must just be that I'm hungry.
Embarrassed, I could only rub at my perfectly blameless stomach.