Aftermath
Youth was a wonderful thing. Normally, Yoo Jae-won didn't give it much thought, but when he had to cram an enormous amount of work into a short span of time, he felt it keenly. Two hours of sleep at the hotel was all it took to wash away both his mental and physical exhaustion. Kim Dae-seok felt the same. As Yoo Jae-won's shadow during official duties, Kim Dae-seok had been with him through the past twenty-four hours. Though he had more opportunities to rest than Yoo Jae-won, the constant tension had left him equally drained. He had snatched moments of rest during their travels, but accumulated fatigue still weighed on him. In such a state, those two hours of sleep had been pure bliss.
After his refreshing nap, Yoo Jae-won took a quick shower and changed into the prepared attire—a black classic suit tailored to funeral standards.
"Black suits you remarkably well, sir."
Kim Dae-seok offered the compliment while checking Yoo Jae-won's appearance.
"Hmm. Regular fit."
Yoo Jae-won, however, clicked his tongue as he studied himself in the mirror. He usually wore custom-tailored suits that matched his physique. Not because he wanted to flaunt his wealth with rare fabrics, but because the baggy styles popular in this era clashed with his sensibilities. The suit he wore now was exactly that sort of outdated cut. To someone with the aesthetic standards of the mid-twenty-first century, it felt hopelessly old-fashioned, and he had never worn one before. Now that he had it on, though, it wasn't entirely unpleasant.
He finished the ensemble with a necktie, pocket square, and shirt cuffs. It had been a long time since he had dressed in full formal armor. He even put on a watch. Normally, Yoo Jae-won considered a mobile phone—the most accurate portable timepiece on Earth, synchronized via communication satellites—to be sufficient. CDMA technology relied on precise time division, after all. Though he purchased expensive automatic watches for his employees every year, he had never worn one himself. This occasion was an exception.
"Let's go."
Once everything was ready, Yoo Jae-won left the hotel. As it turned out, Jacob's funeral was only a few blocks away. They arrived quickly.
"Hmm."
Stepping into the massive cathedral, Yoo Jae-won encountered an atmosphere he had never felt before. The interior had been lavishly decorated for an American-style funeral. At the front, before the pulpit where the pastor would speak, stood the casket containing Jacob's body. Beside it were a large photograph of the deceased smiling brightly and various mementos. Many people already filled the pews, paying their respects. The chaotic emoji Tiffany had sent via ID Talk two hours earlier—featuring the app's mascot characters engaged in an all-out dust-spewing brawl—had been replaced by something entirely different. One thing, however, remained certain: Yoo Jae-won felt like an outsider.
It was a novel sensation. He was accustomed to receiving VIP treatment wherever he went. Just that morning, he had delivered a briefing in the Oval Office that would shape America's future, standing before President Al Gore, his staff, and Pentagon generals. None of them had dismissed him; they had all listened intently. Here, inside this enormous church, no one came forward to perform any ceremonial greeting on his behalf. Those seated in the back glanced at the newcomer with curiosity or sharp looks, but not a single person rose to offer a greeting.
It wasn't that he felt slighted. Yoo Jae-won had never been the sort to crave ceremony. Still, while the scene lacked the outright chaos Tiffany's emoji had suggested, it clearly existed on the same spectrum.
At that moment, Tiffany, seated in the front row, turned her head and met his eyes. Her gaze was one Yoo Jae-won had never seen before—somber and heavy. When she recognized him, however, her expression brightened instantly. She whispered something to Fredrick Taylor II beside her, then stood and walked toward Yoo Jae-won. The eyes of everyone in the front row followed her, and they too realized he had arrived.
There sat his father-in-law and mother-in-law, along with Tiffany's aunts, their husbands, and their children. Fredrick merely nodded without turning around. Reactions among the others varied. The in-laws nodded in welcome, but the aunts immediately began whispering among themselves. The aunts' husbands—whom Yoo Jae-won was seeing for the first time since the wedding—regarded him with anything but warmth.
"Let's get you to your seat."
Tiffany, clearly holding back a torrent of words, took Yoo Jae-won's hand and led him forward. The seat she guided him to was immediately to Fredrick's right. Before sitting, Yoo Jae-won offered his father-in-law words of condolence. In just a few days, Fredrick had aged a decade. He had already been advanced in years, and now he had lost his youngest son—the child of his later years—in a sudden tragedy. The depth of that grief was something Yoo Jae-won could scarcely imagine.
After offering his condolences, Yoo Jae-won quietly took his seat. A few minutes later, the funeral service, led by the pastor, began. The combined funeral and memorial service lasted about an hour. Afterward, Jacob's casket was loaded onto a hearse. Yoo Jae-won took his place at the very front of the pallbearers. He stood at the rightmost position in the front row, with Tiffany's uncles and Chevron executives filling the remaining spots. Though Jacob had many friends in attendance, they had been pushed aside by rank and propriety. Jacob's conduct in life had not been exemplary, and his friends reflected that same character. They were the sort of troublemakers known throughout business and social circles, and Fredrick had never looked upon them favorably.
The hearse carrying Jacob's casket headed for JFK Airport. His final resting place would not be a cemetery in New York, but the Taylor family plot in California. The casket was loaded directly onto a private jet. Those who would accompany it to California and witness the interment boarded the plane. Fredrick, of course, was among them, followed by the in-laws and the aunts. After briefly checking his schedule, Yoo Jae-won boarded with Tiffany. He had finished everything he could do on the East Coast; there was no longer any reason to remain in New York. Depending on President Al Gore's decision, new matters might arise. If the president chose to launch an operation to capture Osama bin Laden and requested support for the drone system, Yoo Jae-won's workload would increase—but that would not happen until early next week. If the request came, he could simply fly back east with a willing heart. He informed Agent Skinner of his departure for the West Coast via a brief call, then boarded the plane.
"Are you all right?"
Once seated, Yoo Jae-won asked Tiffany carefully. The question carried multiple layers of meaning. To him, Jacob had been little more than a stranger, so the grief he felt was minimal. Tiffany, however, had shared many memories with her uncle and would be deeply affected. Moreover, she had endured her aunts' relentless pressure throughout the funeral, and excessive stress could easily manifest as physical illness. There was also the remote possibility that Jacob's death in a plane hijacking-suicide attack had instilled a fear of flying.
"I want to say I'm fine, but it's written all over my face, isn't it?"
Yoo Jae-won nodded at her reply. Tiffany was transparent as a gemstone—honest with her own emotions and incapable of hiding them. Her face always betrayed her feelings, which was why he had asked. Furthermore, her maternal family's background was no small matter. Even Korea's largest chaebol families were insignificant compared to Chevron. Only someone on the level of Yoo Jae-won's ID Group could be considered a peer. While ID Group's market capitalization surpassed Chevron's on paper, Chevron held far greater global influence, presence within the United States, and depth of connections. The company also possessed vast undisclosed assets. The sudden death of such an empire's crown prince had set ambitions stirring once more. Rather than mourning the loss of family, the struggle over who would inherit Chevron had already begun.
In Korea, when an unexpected death occurred within a chaebol family, the first thing that followed was usually a reshuffling of shares. The sight of people prioritizing their own interests over grief had driven some to leave their families in disgust. Tiffany seemed to be experiencing something similar. The first words her aunts had spoken to her—after she had remained by Fredrick's side since confirming Jacob's death—had been, "Where is that impressive husband of yours?" Though phrased as concern, it was really a rebuke: how important could his work possibly be if he had left Tiffany to handle everything alone? With Fredrick right beside her, the comment had also served to highlight Yoo Jae-won's absence. She had defended him by explaining that the government had requested his assistance with an important matter, but at the time even she had not fully understood the nature of his work, so her voice had lacked conviction.
Then, starting yesterday evening, the atmosphere had shifted. Reports from the New York Digital Times revealed that Yoo Jae-won had been at the 9/11 joint investigation headquarters, performing tasks only he could accomplish. Yet Tiffany's aunts showed no sign of relenting. If anything, their probing had escalated into outright explosions—prompted by Fredrick's instructions.
"Grandfather told me to return to the company."
Return to the company? It was true that Fredrick had always valued Tiffany's abilities. He had been deeply reluctant to let her leave Chevron to start her own venture. Now, even before Jacob's funeral had concluded, he was summoning her back.
"What about T&U Research?"
"He said Chevron would acquire it if I agreed."
Fredrick was never one to do things halfway. Though small, T&U Research was worth at least ten million dollars. Beyond its assets, the value of its algorithms—capable of rapidly processing geological data and identifying promising oil-field locations—was extraordinary. Its true worth was even higher, though that had yet to be fully proven. Still, few people in the world could casually spend ten million dollars just to bring their granddaughter back to Chevron.
"He gave the same order to Mother, my aunts, and my cousins."
Tiffany's next words made Fredrick's intentions clear. A succession battle. By summoning every blood relative to Chevron, he was declaring his intent to find a new heir.
"Will you go back?"
Tiffany did not answer immediately. Instead, she took Yoo Jae-won's hand and rested her head on his shoulder. Several minutes passed in silence.
"If I decide to go back… will you support me?"
Tiffany had made up her mind. Her reasons for following Fredrick's wishes were many, but the largest factor had been her aunts' behavior, which had turned Jacob's funeral into a complete circus from start to finish. Their endless greed for Chevron disgusted her. Worse, they lacked the competence to lead such a vast corporation. Tiffany's decision stemmed less from personal ambition and more from the conviction that Chevron must never fall into their hands.
"Of course I'll support you. In fact, I'll do more than support you—I'll help with everything I have."
Though Tiffany's resolve was undeniably naive, the fact that her ally was Yoo Jae-won changed everything. His steady voice swept away the last traces of anxiety in her heart. Amid the countless aftershocks rippling out from the 9/11 attacks, a far greater storm—one that would reshape the world—was already beginning to form in the joined hands of Yoo Jae-won and Tiffany.