Two Hundred Billion

Two hundred billion won.

Even if an auction stood a chance of bringing in more, the difference wouldn't amount to much. There was no reason whatsoever to fall out with Chairman Park over a few extra coins. And if the painting passed into the keeping of the Hyeon-gang Art Museum? It would be a fine gift for Song Suhee, too. Then I could see a da Vinci often myself — a blessing piled on a blessing. Except.

Was it even proper for family to trade two hundred billion won between them?

No. Before that. I could scarcely picture how vast a sum two hundred billion won even was.

"Well. Should I be paying more?"

At Chairman Park's words I shook my head.

"No. That's not it."

"Then why won't you give me an answer?"

"When a contract is this large... I've always talked it through with Professor Jo Sudeok before I decide."

"Oh, I'm sure you have."

"Pardon?"

"You make the decision. You just tell him to write the contract."

Professor Jo would never have said any such thing. The old man's talent for leaping straight to the truth was something else. I cleared my throat.

"Could you give me a little time?"

"The longer you drag it out, the worse the terms get. You know that?"

"Course I do."

"Grandfather, then just this one thing."

"...?"

"If we sign today, the painting is yours from now on, right?"

He nodded. Nodded again.

"Then the duty of authenticating it becomes yours as well?"

"Why? You telling me to pay the authentication team's wages?"

"Yes."

"A boy taking two hundred billion, fussing over what that pittance comes to?"

"It's not that I'm stingy about the salaries."

"Then what?"

"Why do you think family writes a contract even when the deal is between us? Because we mean to make everything certain."

"That so? You put the authentication team together, so I'm the one who ought to pay them?"

"If you'd rather not, you could always buy the painting after the authentication is done..."

"Enough, boy. I'm spending two hundred billion. As if I'd begrudge a scrap of payroll!"

"You'll have to give each of them at least ten million won a month, though..."

A moment earlier he had been looking at a cherished grandson. Now his eyes were those of a man facing a robber with a knife.

"How many?"

"Only four, really."

"Keep this up and I'll be paying Professor Jo Sudeok's salary too, won't I?"

"Surely not."

I said it as if I were doing him a kindness, and Chairman Park let out a dry laugh. Only then did our talk come to an end.

He started toward the courtyard, and I followed a little behind. We had gone a few steps when he turned, like a man who had left something out.

"Yugeon's gift I bought long ago, and we'll say your grandfather took his in a painting. Hang it in the museum and your mother gains by it too. But turn it over all you like — won't your father feel left out?"

"I suppose he would."

"Ought to be getting a present ready even now, shouldn't we?"

"Right now?"

Chairman Park didn't answer. He only wore a strange, knowing smile.

I was scolded the moment I walked through the door.

I hadn't called once, so it was only natural. Worry filled Song Suhee's face more than anger, and that quietly shamed me. I'd had no choice, playing the heedless child — but she would have been worrying all the while.

Tsk.

The people at Hyeon-gang would have reported in, of course. Even so, how could that compare with hearing it from me?

I went to her with my head hanging.

"I'm sorry."

When her anger had ebbed, I eased the rest out.

"The truth is, I went to America because of you. I got the idea from something you said."

It was the story of how Korea and the United States each disposed of a dead person's belongings. I added my explanation, and then I said:

"Mom, I remember everything you tell me. This time I didn't know, and that's why it happened... but from now on I'll call. You taught me, so I'm going to listen."

Song Suhee drew me quietly into her arms. Perhaps it weighed on her that she had lit into me the instant she saw me. For a long time she stroked my back.

"Shall we eat?"

"After I say hello to Dad."

Fortunately, Park Jongin had little to say. He must have heard that Song Suhee had already given me a thorough scolding. That aside, was the semiconductor business refusing to go as he wished? It had been some time since I'd seen his face, and it looked gaunter than before.

"You've had a hard time of it."

"No, Dad. I'm sorry I couldn't call. From now on, I will."

"Have you eaten?"

"I should."

"Good. Unpack, wash up, and come down."

"Yes, Dad."

I was starting up to the second floor when a glad voice came right on the heels of my name.

"Jihun!"

My brother. Yugeon. The moment he saw me he caught both my hands. All I had done was take a trip, and here was a welcome this fierce — things I could never have imagined in my previous life.

"The flight must have tired you out."

"I slept the whole way. I'm fine."

"Sleeping straight through is work too, you know."

"Heh heh."

Yugeon lifted my bag. It was only a small crossbody, nothing I couldn't manage, but he slung it over his own shoulder anyway.

"Jihun, listen..."

"...?"

"The, the... speakers. You know. You're really giving those to me?"

"So they actually came."

"Mm-hm. The deliverymen set them up and left."

He grinned, guilty as a thief.

"But Jihun, you bought them, so... I was going to wait and listen with you. I really meant to. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I got too curious... I listened first."

What was he talking about? If the speakers had arrived, of course you turned them on. He had tried to hold out until I came home, failed, and was apologizing for it. A laugh almost escaped me. Was an older brother allowed to be this cute?

"They're the ones you bought. I wanted the first listen to happen with you there. Aah, I was losing my mind wanting to hear them."

"Were you?"

I asked it while swallowing a smile, and Park Yugeon launched into his lament.

"I could have endured anything else. But a McIntosh amp — what was I supposed to do with that? Those luminous blue lights... I walked up to it like a man under a spell."

"Did you."

"No — if it had been only the McIntosh, I might not have lost my head. Out of every speaker there is, how did you choose a Paragon? Jihun..."

"Yeah?"

"You didn't climb into my head and climb back out, did you?"

"Heh heh heh."

"So how did they sound?"

"I just about blacked out, that's how."

"Really?"

"Mm. It felt like standing in a concert hall. Of course... I've never actually been to a concert."

Shyness crossed Yugeon's face.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Speakers always sound better once they're broken in. They're already this good, and when the break-in's finished it's going to be mayhem."

Could they really be that wonderful?

"But Jihun."

"Yeah?"

"Where did the money come from? Both of those must have cost a fortune."

I didn't trust myself to make a thirteen-year-old understand, so I only smiled. Yugeon murmured something small to himself. Jihun was smart, so there must have been a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠way. Anyway, thank you — truly. Words to that effect. Oh, and one thing more.

"I'm going to study hard too. I'll make a lot of money, and I'll give all of it to you."

He didn't have to give me the money. The studying, though — please, just study hard. Ahem. Anyway. Not a single won of what I had laid out, if laid out was even the word, felt wasted.

Yugeon and I walked the long hall together. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Setting out dinner would take about half an hour.

If I wash up by then, the timing will be perfect.

Song Suhee's warm meal, at last...! Maybe it was the thrill of it. My steps kept quickening on their own.

Meanwhile, in Park Yonghak's study, Chairman Park Yonghak telephoned the chief secretary. He wanted the profiles of the da Vinci authentication team.

Exactly ten minutes later, a fax came through.

A team assembled to authenticate art, and aside from the lead every one of them was a science man. The names of the schools were formidable besides. Glance at the page and you would have taken them for a promising startup in Silicon Valley.

At least the payroll won't be money thrown away.

He meant to leave it there. The words Silicon Valley, though, caught Chairman Park and would not let go. Now that he thought of it, the boy had said he was securing a building in Silicon Valley. If all he wanted was a gain on the property, the authentication team leaned far too heavily toward the sciences.

Hm.

Chairman Park ran back over the way Jihun did things. Thinking one move ahead went without saying. The boy was the sort who moved while looking two moves out, and three. A child like that takes a building in Silicon Valley, then binds the finest scientific minds into a single team?

For the present they would pour themselves into authentication. But if the moment came, he might fly them to Silicon Valley and raise an entirely new business. Entirely possible. Frankly, it would be just like the grandson to have strength left over even then.

And yet why was it that merely turning one possibility over in his mind warmed the left side of his chest? A misunderstanding would not matter. If it was a delusion, what of it? All he had to do was lead events until every part of it was real.

Chairman Park was smiling, well pleased, when a knock sounded from a little way off.

"Father, dinner is ready."

His daughter-in-law's voice. He did not rise. He answered as if he were barking an order.

"Tell Jongin to come in."

"Th-the investment is sixty billion won?"

"What's got you so shocked?"

"No, it's just — so suddenly..."

"Did you think I'd tell you to wait with no other plan in hand?"

Park Jongin's throat bobbed, hard.

"I... I never dreamed Father would support us this much..."

"It ain't my money."

For an instant Park Jongin doubted his ears. At first he thought it a joke. Then he remembered that this was a man who did not so much as joke where money was concerned, and he hurried to set his mind straight.

"Ten billion from selling the Dürer. Fifty billion from contracting the unpublished da Vinci. Sixty billion in all, and it's going into semiconductors."

"What are you saying..."

"You think that rascal Jihun went all the way to America for the sightseeing?"

"Then you mean Jihun truly earned that money? In barely ten days?"

Chairman Park said nothing.

"How could a child that young..."

"How the rascal made it — is now the time to be curious about that?"

"Father?"

"Geumyeong Electronics' boy has no fear in him, and he's set a knife to our throat. Figuring how to stamp that lot down comes first, doesn't it?"

"I'm sorry."

While Park Jongin bowed his head, Chairman Park asked him a question.

"Prosecutors or reporters. Which is the better call?"

Geumyeong's heir was notorious as a wastrel. Siphoning company money was a matter for the prosecutors. Keeping a string of famous actresses was a matter for the reporters. Caught on even one, he would be unable to lift his head for a good while. If both blew open at once, sheer insolence could put him on the brink of arrest.

And yet.

"I'll do it my way."

"What? Your way?"

"I shut myself in a back room and clung to nothing but semiconductors for years. I can fight fair, and I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠can win with the technology."

"Planning to shoot a movie on your son's money? Who drags romance into a business?"

"It isn't romance."

"...?"

"Now that I know my son's money is in it, I want all the more to fight without shame."

A hopelessly soft answer. But Chairman Park knew better than anyone that this was Park Jongin's way.

"You sure?"

"I will see it done. Without fail."

At his son's firm reply—

"Let's eat."

Chairman Park got to his feet, making a show of giving in.