Pluck the Stars from the Sky
“Phaah!”
I emptied the five-hundred-milliliter water bottle in one breathless chug and let out an explosive gasp. As the cool hydration surged through my veins, vitality prickled back into every corner of my exhausted frame. The first round of negotiations—both endlessly long and deceptively brief—was finally over.
Hyung-jun and I returned to our room and slumped onto the furniture like wilted lettuce soaked in water. Barely a few hours of intense corporate back-and-forth had thoroughly drained every drop of our spiritual energy. How on earth did people do this for a living? A brand-new wave of genuine respect for professional businessmen washed over me.
And yet, despite our physical exhaustion, our minds remained razor-sharp. The exhilarating rush of having nailed the very first step was intoxicating. Just like our college days, when we pulled consecutive all-nighters cramming term papers and downed buckets of Monster Energy, both of us were riding an unprecedented high.
“Ugh, I’m seriously gonna die,” Hyung-jun groaned, collapsing into the plush sofa. “I swear that took a decade off my life. Park Ji-hyuk, you absolute lunatic!”
“What, you punk? Why are you launching a surprise attack on me?”
“How could you even contemplate turning down an offer worth fourteen trillion won right on the spot? When you said ‘We decline,’ my heart literally stopped beating!”
Ah, that? Well, I had a few choice words of my own regarding that little incident.
“That’s my line, you bastard.” I yanked my necktie loose with a sharp jerk and growled back. “What did you tell me before the demonstration when we were hashing out our strategy? Didn’t you swear up and down that we would never sell our equity?”
Hyung-jun’s pupils began to tremor violently. Yeah, remembering now, aren't you?
“And yet, the second the other guy dangled a giant pile of cash in your face, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and—what was that look?”
“N-No, come on... That sum was just so unreal that I was a little stunned, that's all! Who said my eyes rolled back?”
“Like hell they didn't, you traitor. I saw your eyes screaming bloody murder at me the moment I said no!”
“...You saw that?”
“How could I have missed it!”
Hyung-jun sheepishly shifted his gaze toward the ceiling. I clicked my tongue in theatrical disgust.
“Get your head in the game, man. We got lucky because our counterparty was amicable, but if they’d had bad intentions, they would’ve stripped you down to your gall bladder.”
“...I reflect on my actions.”
“Good. Do better next time.”
Right at that moment, an unsolicited voice chimed in from the side.
“Wait, what? Ji-hyuk Oppa really turned down fourteen trillion won?”
“Turned down what? More importantly, why haven't you gone home yet?”
It was Da-hye. Why was this girl still lounging around in our suite? To make matters worse, she had ordered an absurd amount of room service—dishes neither of us had even touched were stacked high across the dining table. How she could eat that much without gaining an ounce remained one of the great unfathomable mysteries of human biology.
Unbothered, Da-hye pointed an accusing thumb at Hyung-jun and shrugged.
“Mom and Dad told me not to dare come home until I dragged that hopeless lump Kim Hyung-jun with me, okay?”
“Then drag him away right now. 'Top export of Gwanaksan' my foot—the guy was entirely useless today.”
Hyung-jun bristled instantly. “Useless?! Do you have any idea how much heavy lifting I did?!”
“Enlighten me. Name one useful thing you actually accomplished today.”
A single sharp counter, and he shrank right back into the cushions. Watching her brother crumple, Da-hye burst into delighted snickers.
“That's my second brother for you. All talk, completely hollow on the inside.”
“Staaahp it...”
A little more teasing and the poor guy was going to burst into tears. Thank goodness I didn't have a younger sister.
Just then, Da-hye snapped her fingers as if remembering something.
“Oh, right! While you guys were upstairs working, someone came by.”
“Who?”
“How should I know? But the person who delivered the document looked Chinese.”
“Then it must be the Chinese delegation.”
If a Chinese courier came by, that meant the Chinese had sent over paperwork. That was just how they operated. Nodding thoughtfully, I accepted the thick manila envelope Da-hye handed over, only to immediately toss it across to Hyung-jun.
“Uh, aren't you going to read it?”
“You're the CEO of this company, remember?”
“Wait, am I still the CEO?”
“Have you gone senile? Old Man Kim here has regressed straight into an elementary schooler.”
Hyung-jun unsealed the envelope and scanned the contents. A faint crease gathered between his brows.
“They say their proposal is ready and want to schedule a time to meet.”
“Hmm...”
“What do you want to do?” Hyung-jun set the envelope down and looked up at me. “Do we have the stamina for another round of push-and-pull?”
“The shock earlier was so immense that I'm confident no offer could surprise me anymore, but honestly, my mana is completely drained. I really don't want to open another negotiation table today.”
“Then that settles it. Let's make it tomorrow morning.”
“Agreed. Send that reply.”
We reached a swift consensus. We drafted a brief formal response on the spot and tucked it into a fresh envelope. Staring blankly at the package, Hyung-jun let out a weary groan.
“Ugh, just the thought of walking down to deliver this is draining my life force.”
“Hang in there, buddy.” Tedious legwork was the CEO's responsibility; my job was to provide moral support from the couch.
“Should I call hotel staff?”
“They sent one of their own people. Propriety dictates we send someone from our camp as well.”
“Hmm.”
Hyung-jun and I paused, our gazes drifting simultaneously toward the corner of the room. There, sprawled almost completely flat across an armchair, was a wild young pony happily munching on finger foods and licking her fingertips clean. Looking at that disgraceful posture, no one would ever guess that this creature was nominally an executive secretary on our administrative staff.
She was, in fact, the perfect candidate for the task at hand.
“Huh? Why are you looking at me like that?”
To be fair, the crisp suit she had picked out for me had spared me a massive headache earlier. Since I had already resolved to treat her to something nice, why not give her a little extra? Naturally, that 'extra' would come in the form of an errand fee.
“Hey, Da-hye. Want to take on a quick gig?”
And just like that, we recruited our new courier-slash-house-sitter.
The following morning.
We sat in the very same VIP conference room where we had concluded our equity negotiations with the Middle Eastern delegation the day before. Across from us sat the representatives of the Chinese delegation. The atmosphere was palpably different.
For starters, their posture was dripping with condescension. Arriving early and taking their seats first was fine, but when the counterparty walked through the door, none of them even bothered to stand to offer a basic greeting. Was this their way of signaling that they couldn't care less whether a deal went through?
Just then, the plump man seated dead center began babbling loudly in Mandarin. Even without speaking the language, the cadence was unmistakable. When he finished, a man standing rigidly behind him spoke up in English.
“This is President Ding Xuexiang of China Investment Corporation. He says it is a pleasure to meet you.”
What kind of circus is this?
Sitting across from two native Koreans, the principal spoke Mandarin, and his interpreter translated into... English? Were they taking the piss?
I glanced over at Hyung-jun. The corner of his left eye was twitching violently. He's holding it in. Look at him holding back the rage.
After a beat of strained silence as he wrestled his rising temper down, Hyung-jun offered a broad, radiant smile. Then he opened his mouth.
“I am Kim Hyung-jun, CEO of Arcane Technology. It is an honor to meet the distinguished guests of China. Seated beside me is our company's CTO, Park Ji-hyuk. We look forward to fruitful discussions today.”
The polished corporate greeting flowed out in immaculate, crystal-clear Korean.
Ah, he wasn't holding back at all. So this was what people called petty warfare? A truly heartwarming display of passive aggression.
Ding Xuexiang's brows furrowed deeply at our response. He barked another flurry of syllables, and the interpreter promptly translated.
“He states that we wish to purchase your technology. How much do you want for it?”
The phrasing sounded less like international corporate diplomacy and more like a rowdy merchant haggling over cabbages in a wet market. Well, whether they asked nicely or rudely, our answer remained predetermined.
“We decline,” Hyung-jun said flatly.
“Excuse me?” The interpreter's voice stiffened. “Without even hearing the offer?”
“Because there is no reason to hear it. Ownership of our core technology is not open for negotiation under any circumstances. We have no intention of discussing this further, so if you have an alternative proposal, please present it.”
With a tense expression, the interpreter leaned down and whispered into Ding Xuexiang's ear. An overt flash of displeasure washed over the president's fleshy face. He turned to the man seated beside him—whose nameplate identified him as Luo Jin, Chief Technology Officer of CETL, the battery manufacturing giant—and exchanged a few hurried, low murmurs.
Turning back toward us, the interpreter conveyed their amended stance.
“If the acquisition of the technology is off the table, President Ding demands that you transfer exclusive global distribution rights for the Magician to our side.”
“Regrettably,” Hyung-jun replied smoothly, “that is not up for negotiation either.”
BAM!
Ding Xuexiang slammed his palm violently against the polished conference table. Oh, so we're throwing tantrums now?
The interpreter's tone grew sharp and aggressive. “Do you people have any genuine intention of negotiating today?”
“That is precisely the question we should be asking you,” Hyung-jun retorted with icy composure. “On what possible basis did you assume we would simply hand over technology ownership or exclusive rights? Genuine intention to negotiate? Let us turn that back on you: Did you leave this technology in our custody for safekeeping?”
“That... that is...” The interpreter faltered, choked by the rebuttal.
Hyung-jun didn't let up for a second.
“From the very moment you entered this room, you have displayed a high-handed, overbearing attitude. You discarded basic business etiquette by refusing to interpret into the counterparty's native tongue. At this point, we are compelled to wonder whether you came here to negotiate or merely to deliver insults. Are you certain you came here to do business?”
As the interpreter relayed Hyung-jun's scathing dressing-down, Ding Xuexiang's face flushed a furious, mottled crimson. He raised his voice and began yelling a barrage of furious Mandarin, but this time, the interpreter remained frozen, lips pressed tight.
Yeah, I can take a wild guess that those weren't compliments.
Realizing that the room was spiraling out of control, the aides flank-guarding Ding Xuexiang rushed to pacify their red-faced boss. Among them, Luo Jin, the CTO of CETL, leaned forward and addressed us directly.
“First, allow me to apologize for our discourtesy,” Luo Jin said measuredly. “Returning to the core subject: our enterprise must secure exclusive rights to the Magician. Is there truly no condition under which this could be arranged?”
Finally, someone who actually sounded like an engineer capable of human communication had stepped up. Nevertheless, our stance was carved in stone.
“No. There is none,” Hyung-jun answered.
No matter what terms were dangled, exclusive rights were fundamentally off the table. Our overarching business strategy was simple: ensure that all clients stood perfectly equal before Arcane Technology.
Everyone received supply on fair, balanced terms; if they wished to compete, they could tear each other apart in their own markets, entirely separate from us. That was the unshakeable corporate doctrine Hyung-jun and I had agreed upon from the start.
“...”
Confronted with Hyung-jun's uncompromising finality, the Chinese delegation seemed momentarily struck dumb. That was when Ding Xuexiang spoke once more, puffing out his chest.
“President Ding says that if you have requirements, you need only state them. He assures you that with the immense power of Great China, any wish you have can be granted.”
Does this guy have mush for brains? This wasn't a matter of price or conditions; why did he keep forcing us to repeat the same elementary principles? Before Hyung-jun could fire back, I cut in.
“We will give you the exclusive rights.”
Instantly, the faces across the table lit up with triumphant smirks—only to curdle into sheer disbelief at my very next breath.
“Pluck the stars from the night sky and bring them to my feet. Do that, and whether it's the core technology or a global monopoly, I'll give you whatever you desire.”
“!@#$!#!$@!!!!”
Ding Xuexiang shot out of his chair, stabbing an enraged, trembling finger straight at my face as he shrieked.
“He demands to know if you are mocking him with childish word games!” the interpreter yelled.
“Didn't your president just boast that he could grant whatever we wished?” I retorted, casually digging at my ear with a pinky. “So I merely named what I wanted. Ah... is plucking a few stars beyond even the mighty power of Great China?”
Ding Xuexiang's fleshy cheeks shuddered violently at my blatant sarcasm. Paying no heed to whatever stroke he was about to suffer, I pushed my chair back and stood up.
“Hyung-jun, let's go. Today's a bust.”
“Huh? Oh... right.” Blinking in momentary bewilderment at my sudden declaration, Hyung-jun gathered his papers and rose to his feet.
I looked down at the apoplectic delegation across the mahogany table and delivered our closing statement.
“We will conclude our discussions here. If and when you prepare a proposal that resembles an actual conversation, feel free to contact us again.”
By now completely incapable of containing his fury, Ding Xuexiang turned the color of a boiled octopus, hopping on his heels and bellowing at the top of his lungs.
“What is he shouting now?” I asked mildly.
“Th-That is... well...” The interpreter stuttered, sweating profusely.
“Sounds like a colorful stream of profanities unfit for polite company. That's fine. Instead, please deliver this parting message to him.”
I cleared my throat, pitching my voice with resonant clarity so it carried effortlessly across the chamber.
“They say it is called a great nation because its territory is vast, yet its people have minds as petty as fleas, so taken together they call it China. Looking at the spectacle you put on today, I can see that ancient proverb rings entirely true.”
The interpreter must have actually translated it, because the moment we stepped out of the conference room, Ding Xuexiang's earth-shattering roars echoed down the entire length of the hotel corridor.
Hook, line, and sinker. Fully triggered.
Manners-deprived clown. I hope his blood pressure spikes so high he passes out cold.
Man, did that feel refreshing.