Chapter 262
Translator: penny
Chapter: 262
Chapter Title: Revenue Sharing Pitch
There are times when you have to give a presentation in front of bigwigs, with tens of billions of won in investments hanging in the balance.
Moments where you can't just run away because you're shaking, and you absolutely can't screw it up. Those 10 or 30 minutes that could upend the company's entire fate.
How much I've honed myself to survive those crossroads every single time... I'll leave that to your imagination.
From being just a somewhat successful self-employed guy running a handful of shops, to now being totally cool with people calling me "CEO"—that experience played a huge role in getting me here.
People often say they pick up on some kind of aura from me, or a gravitas and composure way beyond my years.
To project that image, I've even calculated everything down to my gestures, my gaze, the angle of my head tilt.
'Though now it feels like it's just second nature.'
People with a sharp eye give me the most credit for exactly those qualities.
Along with comments like "he somehow makes you curious about what happens next," when I landed the biggest investment commitment yet, I knew for sure.
'At least in one-on-one presentations... my proposals come across as incredibly tempting.'
That magic was about to work on Kim Mi-hyang right now.
The most important thing is figuring out 'what the other side really wants.'
The reason Kim Mi-hyang was pulling out all the stops—stepping in to manage things herself—to end this lease was crystal clear.
'The alley's business scene is buzzing back to life, sales are up, the building's value has soared, but she's not getting rent that matches. That's what bugs her.'
Relative deprivation, right? Shops in the same alley, next door even, are paying higher rent.
This place seems to be doing great business too.
Feeling like the only one not riding the wave, somehow left on the sidelines. That was the crux of it for Kim Mi-hyang.
"First off, I'd like to propose a long-term lease."
I started pulling out the alternatives I'd prepared, one by one.
"From the landlord's perspective, the biggest loss is definitely vacancy."
Kim Mi-hyang nodded.
"In that sense, a stable five-year contract isn't a bad deal at all."
"Well..."
"[Hapjae Neighborhood Gukbap] is a gukbap joint that's thriving, just like you said. We're a bit annoyed by it, but we could always expand and relocate to somewhere nicer."
Of course, it's not like we don't care at all.
And it's definitely not something we'd welcome.
But a little bluffing is par for the course in negotiations, isn't it?
"There might be some risk, but if the main branch relocates and booms even more..."
"Hmm."
"If we leave this place, you said your son would run a gukbap shop himself, right?"
"And?"
"Do you know what time the Owner/President of [Hapjae Neighborhood Gukbap] shows up for work?"
"...No?"
"He arrives at 4 a.m. to check the broth and start prep for opening."
Kim Mi-hyang's face lit up in surprise. She clearly hadn't expected anyone to start that early.
'As I figured.'
Just as I'd predicted, Kim Mi-hyang didn't know much about the business.
'Ignorance breeds boldness. That's why she's casually talking about setting her son up with a gukbap shop.'
Running a business loosens up even people who start out determined. What chance does a gukbap joint have with no real experience, just diving in blind?
"Do you know how to calculate costs? How to boil pork? How to deal with black consumers, obviously?"
"..."
"Self-employment isn't some formula where selling the same menu from the same spot guarantees success."
And Kim Mi-hyang probably never seriously intended to set her son up with a gukbap shop anyway.
'Kicking out a thriving business to start a gukbap joint with a 50% chance of flopping? That's pure folly.'
Not to mention the financial hit. Her calm gaze suggested she knew it too.
"So?"
The basics of negotiation: never show your weak spots. Even with her vulnerabilities laid bare, Kim Mi-hyang played it cool.
"That means we both lose. Right? We lose our regular customers, and you take on the risk of diving into an unfamiliar field with no guarantee of success."
I'd swung the whip—now it was time for the carrot.
"But what if there's a way we both come out ahead?"
[Flip!]
The sound of turning a page, and the PPT slid to the next slide.
Big bold letters read:
"I'm proposing a revenue-sharing model."
"Revenue... sharing model?"
"Yes. Once sales hit a certain threshold, we pay a portion of the excess as rent."
It had pros and cons for both sides.
For the landlord, she gets to share in the upside if business booms, but fixed rent income might dip relatively.
For the shop, it turns some fixed costs variable for more flexibility, though our take-home shrinks a bit even as sales grow.
Kim Mi-hyang's eyes gleamed.
'This hits the itch.'
Like I said earlier—that sense of exclusion from the alley's prosperity.
That nagging feeling of missing out drives people crazy. Satisfy that, and she has no need to take risks.
"Hmm. But I can't freeze the rent. Rent ties directly to the building's value, you understand?"
"Of course."
Freezing rent would mean higher revenue share to compensate, which burdens the shop.
It kills motivation too.
'Rent hike from current levels, five-year term, annual increases capped at 9%, plus revenue sharing.'
That alone would satisfy Kim Mi-hyang plenty.
'But I can't stop here.'
We can haggle numbers later.
Leaving things this cold would sour the relationship too much.
Landlords make great allies—better to build rapport.
So the closing line should tug at the heartstrings, soften the vibe of this meeting.
"Above all, this alley thrives because it's got such a strong [The Song] vibe, don't you think? That's what fueled the revival."
Kim Mi-hyang nodded readily. Hard to argue that point.
"We have a special attachment here too, and we're desperate to avoid gentrification wrecking the scene."
As I said it, I glanced aside with a wistful smile.
"That's the whole reason we're forming the Commercial Prosperity Association. For the alley to thrive long-term, the buildings do too, right?"
"Exactly. Of course."
"The monthly rent might sting short-term, but long-term, this is the key to sustainability. Sure, some folks might not get that vision..."
I clenched my fist like an underdog youth, gazing at her with a spark of passion.
"You get what I'm saying, don't you, Owner/President?"
Not many people could say "no" to that straight-faced. Kim Mi-hyang nodded agreeably.
"Of course."
Human nature is sneaky like that. Once you voice agreement, your thoughts follow suit.
Kim Mi-hyang had seemed hesitant at first, but her expression softened quick.
'He's right. Can't think short-sighted. Some people just don't get it, like he said.'
That had to be going through her head.
I smirked to myself.
'Right on plan.'
"Now, sign here. And here, here, and here too..."
Rustle, rustle. The sound of flipping papers went on for a while.
Only after signing the very last page did Kim Jong-chun finally look up.
"Whew. What is it with all these documents?"
"Haha. All those clauses piled up, you know how it goes."
"Sure. You handled it perfectly, as always."
Kim Jong-chun shot me a look of utter trust. Then he glanced around slyly, leaned in, and whispered.
"How the hell did you win her over?"
Following his gaze, I saw Kim Mi-hyang, elegantly sipping tea after finishing her signatures.
"The first thing I did when I heard about the rent hike was call the landlord."
"Yeah?"
"But the second I introduced myself, she hung up! No answer after, so I texted explaining the situation over and over, and guess what came back?"
"What'd she say?"
"'Blocked.' Just those five letters!"
Figures. From her side, no reason to entertain the sob story—she cut it off clean.
Meanwhile, Kim Jong-chun was facing eviction out of nowhere, and getting iced like that by the landlord? Gotta hurt.
"No brainwashing or anything... Turns out she's easier to talk to than expected."
But we'll be dealing with her long-term. Better if we all part on good terms.
"Sometimes I wonder if you're hypnotizing people, pulling their strings."
"Come on, that's ridiculous."
"It's just uncanny. I was resigned to relocating, scouting real estate options..."
Kim Jong-chun trailed off, staring at the freshly signed papers.
Rent was going up, sure, but way better than starting from scratch somewhere new.
He knew it, so he'd agreed readily.
"Thanks, Woo-yeon."
His grin met mine.