Our Customer is Always Right

Our customer asked if they could buy just one pistol.

"Of course, valued customer, you can buy as many as you'd like. That will be 1.5 million won. Magazines and ammunition are sold separately. VAT is included. We only accept cash payments. Thank you. Goodbye. Please visit us again. The end."

That's all I needed to do. Clean and simple.

But I couldn't do that. Why was I so curious about this? Why did they want to buy a gun? And why only one? It was driving me absolutely insane.

According to Dennis, an arms dealer's primary clients are gangs and rebels. They don't buy guns one by one. If we were the kind of operation that sold single pistols, we wouldn't have an armory like that in the first place.

That only made me more curious. I was dying to know the story of someone who wanted to buy just one gun. Now I think I understand how Jericho felt. Jericho went as far as kidnapping us just because he was dying to know why we wanted to buy twenty thousand rounds of ammunition.

All he had to do was hand over the guns and take the money, but he couldn't do it. In the end, Jericho couldn't overcome his curiosity, kidnapped Scott, and got himself killed in an instant. Curiosity invites death. Yet, I can't stop. Just like the gamblers who visit our casino every day and can't quit.

If it were a bulk transaction, I'd have to go through Dennis, but for a single pistol, there's no harm in me handling it directly. I already have plenty of guns stored in my Inventory anyway.

A few days later.

After finishing my work, I was sitting in the hotel lobby, enjoying a cup of coffee. Upgrading my accommodations to a suite had changed my life slightly. For one, I spent less time on the road. The suite consisted of two bedrooms and a living room, which was great because I could hold brief meetings right there. I could step out of my bedroom and immediately start a meeting. Whenever necessary, I could summon whoever I needed and hand down instructions on the spot.

In movies, you always see Mexican cartel bosses walking around in bathrobes, meeting people, and holding conferences. Now I finally understand why. Not that I walk around in a bathrobe myself. I'm just saying.

Converting the resort to an all-inclusive model was also a huge help. I could eat whenever I wanted. Ah, of course, I ordered room service. And it wasn't free. I billed everything. In fact, I billed even more than what I actually consumed. The room rates, room service, and facility fees were all charged to the company at full price, without a single discount. I even tacked on a pool usage fee.

You might ask, why pay when I bought the hotel? Why should I pay when regular hotel guests get to use it for free?

Of course, I didn't actually pay out of pocket. From that point on, it entered the realm of taxes. To put it simply, it was a little trick to write everything off as business expenses. Everything I slept on, ate, and used could be processed as an expense. By doing so, it became a cost, serving as proof that our business spent money. In short: "We made money, but we spent so much that we have none left. So please lower our taxes." That's the gist of it.

The cash I casually tossed to my subordinates couldn't be documented. Therefore, I had to spend as much as possible on these legal avenues while I could. Once again, I felt grateful to Sandro. Despite his rough appearance, he was incredibly meticulous about tax evasion. Or should I call it tax avoidance?

Sitting in the lobby and having a cup of coffee before heading up to my suite had become my daily pleasure. I didn't actually have a taste for coffee. I just enjoyed eavesdropping on the conversations around me.

They say boasting about your own child makes you a fool, right? Well, then I was a certified fool. I loved keeping my ears wide open, listening to people talk about Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake. It made me happy to hear them describe how enchanting and mind-blowing the tours were. Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake weren't my actual children, but whenever people praised them, my mood lifted for no reason.

I also made sure to note down any complaints or inconveniences they mentioned. It sparked new ideas and proved to be a highly productive use of my time. That was why I loved sitting in the hotel lobby, stealing snippets of people's conversations.

As I sat there sipping my coffee and eavesdropping, my eyes drifted to the table in front of me. A young woman was diligently drawing something.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.

With every stroke of her stylus, new lines appeared and disappeared in rapid succession. It was so fascinating that I couldn't take my eyes off it. For ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠someone like me, who possessed zero artistic sense, just watching someone draw was a marvel. Anyone who could draw looked like Bob Ross to me. The sight of seemingly meaningless lines coming together to create a picture was truly wondrous. It felt like a new world was being born.

I stared blankly, watching this new world take shape.

When her hand finally stopped, a brand-new Emerald Canyon was born on her screen. It was a strange feeling. The real Emerald Canyon felt mysterious, noble, and straight out of a fantasy world, but her drawing was round, soft, and cute. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.

As I stood there staring at it in a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠daze, she looked up and spoke to me.

"Is there a problem?"

"I'm sorry. The drawing is so beautiful, I couldn't stop looking."

"Um... Are you Korean?"

"Yes."

"Oh, thank goodness. My English is so poor, I was at a loss for what to say."

"I was just watching because the drawing is so pretty. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"No, not at all. It's always nice when someone appreciates my art."

"Do you mind if I take a closer look?"

She hesitated for a moment before handing her tablet to me. Seeing it from the front made the drawing even more appealing. It was cute. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to have it.

"Did you major in art?"

"Yes, I did, but..."

She swallowed her words. It seemed like there was a story behind it, but I didn't pry. That was her business, not mine. Everyone has their own circumstances.

"Do you happen to have any other drawings besides this one?"

"They aren't fully finished, but I have some rough sketches."

"I'd love to see them, if you don't mind."

As she tapped on the tablet, a few more drawings appeared. Along with Emerald Canyon, there were round, chubby illustrations of sea turtles, whale sharks, Lumina Lake, Chocolate Hills, and tarsiers. She had probably captured the most memorable scenes from her tour in drawings. But her art style was incredibly cute. I wanted to keep it close. I wanted to have it by my side, to touch it and look at it constantly.

"Would you be interested in selling these drawings?"

"Pardon?"

"I asked if you'd be willing to sell them. I want to turn them into merchandise. Would that be possible?"

For Im Yu-na, this trip was a massive adventure. It felt like a complete escape from her reality.

Im Yu-na had always been a good girl. She had never once caused trouble for her parents, and she was always kind to her friends.

Having loved drawing since childhood, Im Yu-na entered an art college with her parents' support. And a prestigious one at that. She thought getting admitted would solve everything, but her real problems only began from there.

She majored in fine arts, but the more she learned, the more she realized that fine arts alone wouldn't cut it. The gap between her passion and reality was too vast. So, she decided to double major in visual design. She figured that would at least give her a fighting chance at landing a job after graduation. But that was just wishful thinking. Despite majoring in both fine arts and visual design, the barrier to employment was incredibly high. Before the daunting wall of job hunting, Im Yu-na felt smaller and smaller with each passing day. Her parents comforted her, saying it was fine and that companies simply hadn't recognized her talent yet, but their words brought her no comfort.

While browsing the internet for job openings, she stumbled upon a certain post.

After carefully reading through the reviews, Im Yu-na made her decision. She would book the Emerald Tour. Although it was notoriously difficult to book, luck was on her side. A cancellation ticket had popped up, and since she was traveling solo, she managed to grab it. Booking for a single person is always the easiest.

As the departure date drew near, her anticipation grew. Bohol had everything Im Yu-na loved: sea turtles, whale sharks, tarsiers, and snorkeling. She wanted to see Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake as well, but she was also slightly worried. Since everyone praised them so highly, she tried her best to keep her expectations low, fearing that overhyping them would only lead to disappointment. She actively suppressed her excitement.

However, once she saw Emerald Canyon and Lumina Lake with her own eyes, they were more than enough to shatter her preconceived notions. She finally understood why everyone praised them in unison. Now, Im Yu-na was certain she would join the ranks of those who did nothing but sing their praises.

Even after the tour ended, the lingering emotions wouldn't fade, so she sat in the hotel lobby, pouring out the residual images imprinted on her mind onto her screen. Just sitting there, the staff approached her to ask if she wanted a beer or a drink. She requested a glass of juice. It was a small gesture, but she felt deeply grateful.

She had been drawing for quite some time when a strange sensation washed over her. She glanced back and saw a handsome man staring at her.

Oh? Does he like me? Is my look popular in the Philippines? Is a romance that never blossomed in Korea finally going to start here?

Just as she was thinking that...

"Would you be interested in selling these drawings? I want to turn them into merchandise. Would that be possible?"