A Reliable Partner

"Manager Jang."

"Yes, Boss?"

"You must be having a tough time lately. We've been flooded with bookings and inquiries."

"Not at all. I'm doing just fine."

"I'd love to fly over and help, but I'm tied down here at the moment. I'm sorry."

"It's my job, Boss. And while it is busy, it's completely manageable."

"Don't try to do it all on your own. Hire some staff. At least get some part-timers."

"No, thank you. I'd rather not. Hiring the wrong person just makes things harder. I had a really bad experience with that in the past, so I prefer working alone. Even if it's exhausting, I can handle things systematically on my own. If you hire the wrong person, you end up doing the work twice. I'll have to politely decline."

"I'm just worried you're overworking yourself, Manager."

"I'll manage somehow on this end. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠If it gets to be too much, I'll hire a part-timer, recruit someone, or ask an acquaintance for help. I'll take care of it, so you just focus on managing the local guides over there, Boss."

"Understood. Once the bookings slow down and things stabilize, you should come over again. Bring your husband and the kid."

"I'd love that. I still can't forget the night sky I saw there. How on earth did you find a place like that, Boss? I was absolutely speechless when I saw Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake. Honestly, that's why I'm working so hard now. I genuinely want to recommend it to people. It's a product I can be proud of. I want to tell everyone about it! It almost feels like a waste when the slots fill up so fast. I want to send my own friends and family, but the bookings get sold out instantly. Hohoho."

"Hahaha. Well, I'm glad to hear that."

"Don't worry about things here. Just make sure to take care of yourself, Boss."

Hanging up the phone, Jang Yun-mi couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Just thinking about her young boss brought a smile to her face. He wasn't a funny person by nature, but he was endearing in his own way.

She recalled the day of her interview. He had looked even more awkward than she did, and it was her first time in the office. He was trembling more than the interviewee.

Yet, her young boss had tried so hard not to let it show.

Having spent years in the corporate world, Jang Yun-mi saw right through him. But she didn't mind it at all. In fact, his earnest effort made a great impression. That was why she had readily accepted the job.

She had actually been debating whether to return to her previous company, which had invited her back. The main reason she hesitated was the grueling commute. It took over an hour by subway. Since her baby had been sick, being so far away was a constant source of anxiety. The time and distance weighed heavily on her. If her child fell ill, she needed to be able to rush home immediately, which would have been nearly impossible if she went back to her old job.

It was during this period of hesitation that she stumbled upon Candy Tour's job posting.

The office was within walking distance of her house, with a daycare center conveniently located right along the route. It was perfect. She went to the interview thinking she would take the job as long as the place wasn't completely bizarre.

She had absolute confidence in her professional abilities. Once she arrived, not only did she take a liking to her young boss, but he also handed her complete authority, stating that she should run the Seoul office as she saw fit. He told her that as long as the work got done, he didn't care about her working hours or if she worked from home. He even told her to buy whatever laptop she wanted on the company's dime, saying she would need it.

Our boss is truly a strange one, she thought. He was young and clearly lacked experience. He fell short in many areas when it came to running a travel agency—or rather, he knew absolutely nothing about it. It hadn't taken her long to realize that.

So, she had given him some realistic advice. "Running a travel agency is no joke. In this industry, even veterans with twenty years of experience go bankrupt when they start their own businesses. You should reconsider while you still can. I'm telling you this as someone with more life experience."

At that, he had simply grinned and replied, "Don't worry. I'll never let your salary run late. I'll even give you bonuses. So, please don't worry."

Then he left for the Philippines, only to send her a business-class ticket out of the blue one day, telling her to fly over. So, she went.

"You should at least see what we're selling, right?"

That was when he showed her Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake. She had nearly fainted from the sheer beauty of it.

Having worked in the travel industry, she had traveled all over Southeast Asia and visited countless famous tourist destinations, but absolutely none of them could compare to this.

Ah! This is it. This is a guaranteed hit.

So what if he lacks experience? It would be weirder if someone that young actually had it. She was here to make up for his lack of experience. That was her job. That was exactly why the boss hired her.

Thinking that way had fueled her determination to work even harder.

Upon returning to Korea, she had designed the tour packages. She planned to recruit travel YouTubers, sponsor their trips, and pay them advertising fees to promote the agency. She had even drafted the scripts and highlighted the key selling points.

But whatever her boss had done over in the Philippines, a relentless flood of booking inquiries started pouring in before she could even launch the campaign. The moment the tour packages went live, they sold out instantly. Then came the endless stream of inquiries and demands.

"Are you guys even working? Why is it always sold out?"

"When are you opening up more slots? Please let us know the dates!"

"Can we book just the tour separately?"

"I'll bring my own tent, so can't you just squeeze me in?"

She wanted to open up more slots too. She was desperate to. But the packages sold here in Korea were different from the local operations in the Philippines. Over there, they just gathered tourists on the spot and set off immediately for a one-night itinerary. There was very little logistics to worry about. But here, it was a different story.

To sell a package, the flight tickets, accommodations, and the tour itself all had to align perfectly. The problem was that they hadn't anticipated such explosive demand, so they hadn't secured enough flight tickets.

In the travel industry, flight tickets are purchased in blocks from airlines ahead of the season. For example, buying out sixty seats from rows 21 to 30 on a flight to the Philippines. These are the very tickets that are often sold as "last-minute deals" if demand is miscalculated and the departure date draws near.

When an agency overestimates demand and buys too many tickets, they dump them cheap at the last minute. For Candy Tour, however, it was the exact opposite. They had thought, How many people could possibly go? and kept their ticket inventory low, only for the demand to explode.

She had belatedly contacted airlines and other travel agencies, but there were no tickets to be found. Whether they actually had them and were holding out or truly had none was unclear, but she simply couldn't secure any. Consequently, she couldn't sell the packages.

Why not just sell the tour program separately? Her boss had strictly forbidden it, insisting on controlling the head count. She knew they strictly limited the number of daily visitors in the Philippines as well. He argued it was necessary to preserve the quality of the experience and the pristine nature.

Because of this exclusivity, people were now willing to pay a premium just to join. Thanks to that, their packages had evolved. The accommodations were upgraded from 4-star to 5-star hotels, and the transportation now featured luxury yachts and limousines. It had transformed into a high-end, luxury tour of the Philippines.

I was sitting face-to-face with the Chief of the Special Visa Division at the Bureau of Immigration headquarters in Manila, Philippines.

"Your visa is ready."

The Chief handed me my passport, now stamped with the SVEG Visa, along with my ACR I-Card.

Wait, aren't you supposed to get these at the regular service counter? Shouldn't I be waiting for my name to light up on the electronic board and then exchanging documents through a glass partition? Why am I sitting inside the Chief's private office to receive my passport?

I felt like things were blowing out of proportion. I hated this. It made me anxious. But I couldn't exactly throw a tantrum and walk out, so I forced out some smooth, diplomatic words.

"Thank you. Thanks to your attention, it was processed incredibly fast."

"Of course I should pay close attention when you are doing so much for our country. I heard the audit by the DOLE went exceptionally well. We are truly grateful."

"Not at all. I'm the one who should be grateful for this wonderful opportunity. I will do my best to provide even better opportunities for our Filipino employees."

"The DOLE officials were actually quite surprised by how high the employee satisfaction was. We hope to grow together with you here in the Philippines."

"Thank you for the kind words."

"Shall we take a photo together to commemorate this?"

"Excuse me? A photo?"

"Yes. Since it's a special occasion, let's take a picture."

"Ah... Sure."

Holding my visa and ACR I-Card, I posed for a commemorative photo inside the Chief's office. It wasn't even a selfie; a professional photographer had actually come in to take it. *Click.*

This was all because of Patrick. Damn it, Patrick. You're dead.

"Boss, the visa application ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠has been submitted, and the DOLE is coming for an on-site audit this week."

"Is that so?"

Since it was the Special Visa for Employment Generation (SVEG Visa), an on-site inspection by the Department of Labor and Employment was mandatory. Unlike Sandro, who couldn't care less, I felt a wave of anxiety. Was it because of my military days, where inspections and drills were a constant source of stress? I felt like we needed to prepare *something*.

"Patrick, what do we need to prepare? Should we conduct some staff training? Or do we need to get the paperwork in order?"

"What? Train them? Boss, there isn't a single business in this country cleaner or with higher employee satisfaction than ours. What is there to train?"

"Huh?"

"The guys you hired. The ones who used to work under me."

"Yeah."

"You hired all of them as official employees and registered them for Social Security (SSS), PhilHealth, and Pag-IBIG. The guys were incredibly moved by that. They said it was the first time they felt treated like actual human beings. They felt like respectable members of society. We were having a drink the other day, and they actually started crying, thanking you and swearing lifelong loyalty."

You crazy bastard, that's just the equivalent of Korea's four major public insurances. It's the bare minimum. Isn't it weirder not to provide it?

"That's just standard procedure. It's what any employer should do."

"But in the Philippines, neither local business owners nor foreign corporations do that 'standard' thing. In fact, some employees actually dislike it because they think it just eats into their take-home pay."

"No, health insurance is absolutely essential."

"Exactly. And that's not all. You pay them a monthly salary instead of daily wages. That means they get paid days off, so their satisfaction is through the roof."

I could see his point there. Unless it was a major hotel, most local businesses paid daily wages. It wasn't that daily wages were inherently bad, but it meant that if you didn't work, you didn't get paid. Naturally, the workers had no choice but to work every single day without rest. And even with all that grueling labor, they only took home about 500,000 to 700,000 won a month. Having lived in the Philippines for a while, I knew it was incredibly tough to survive on that amount. Since I was paying them around 1 million won, they naturally worked their absolute hardest. They gave it their all.

"Oh, and the uniforms you handed out? The response to those has been amazing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too."

I only bought those because they dressed so sloppily and I couldn't stand looking at them. Plus, it made it easy to identify Candy Tour staff from a distance. It fostered a sense of belonging among the employees, served as free advertising for the agency, and allowed customers to easily approach them with questions, boosting trust and projecting a professional image. Compared to the minimal cost, the return on investment was massive. Why on earth wouldn't anyone do this?

The employees were thrilled just to have new clothes. They felt like they had become important people whenever they put on the uniform. They wore them so often, even off-duty, that I eventually ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had to issue a directive stating they were only to be worn during working hours.

"Besides, if they try to give us any crap, we can just slide them some cash. Why are you stressing over this?"

Sandro spoke of bribery as if it were the most natural thing in the world. No matter how much time passed, the Philippines continued to defy my expectations.

I was told that after the audit, there would be an interview, which required me to travel to Manila in person. I just had to do the interview and pick up the visa. Patrick assured me he had already smoothed things over, so I could just walk in and collect it. He said they would only ask a few basic questions, so there was no need to prepare.

That was how I ended up at the Bureau of Immigration. Instead of the service counters, I was immediately escorted—or rather, dragged under the guise of an escort—straight into the Chief's private office. There wasn't even an interview. Instead, the Chief showered me with endless praise.

"I hear you are dedicating yourself to the development of Bohol."

"I've been told the tour packages you designed are already a massive sensation."

"We received reports that overall tourist arrivals in Bohol have increased by over thirty percent."

"The job satisfaction among your employees is truly remarkable. We have never seen such high satisfaction anywhere in the Philippines."

"You have completely changed the game for Bohol tourism."

"We look forward to your continued efforts in fostering exchange with South Korea."

"We also heard you plan to expand into the hotel and resort business in the future. We will actively support you. Please feel free to contact us anytime."

Wait, is employing thirty people really enough to warrant this kind of red-carpet treatment? As it turned out, Patrick had laid it on thick when he submitted the express visa application. He had hyped me up to all his connections.

"Since he arrived, Bohol tourism has completely transformed. He is Bohol's ultimate game-changer. He is the man who will dominate the tourism industry. He is going to be a major tycoon in the Philippines. You need to get on his good side now while his stock is at its lowest." He had shamelessly spread these wild rumors far and wide.

That was why the Chief of the Special Visa Division was trying so hard to build a connection with me, even insisting on taking a photo. How could I not curse Patrick after this? You're dead, you bastard.