Chapter 55

I’m translating the chapter into HTML with the required paragraph structure and styled blocks for the phone-call/chat/news-like sections. I’m keeping the prose natural and making sure the output starts with the exact title token.CHAPTER_TITLE: The Meaning of a Windfall

He stared blankly at the deposit amount shown on his smartphone.

He had known this money would come someday.

Still, now that it was actually in his account, all he could do was let out a hollow laugh.

Before the afterglow of the deposit had even faded, a sharp clink sounded from across the table.

He looked up to find Shin A-young adjusting her posture, folding her hands together on the tabletop.

The playful smile she had worn a moment ago was gone without a trace.

All that remained was the cool gaze of a ruthless executive.

"Mr. Si-woo, did the money from the Hong Kong Sotheby’s auction come through? Congratulations."

"Thank you. It arrived faster than I expected. That’s thanks to you, Representative."

More than that, he was curious about the change in Shin A-young’s attitude.

What exactly was she about to say?

"Eight hundred billion won is no small sum. What do you plan to do with it now?"

"...Well."

Honestly, nothing came to mind right away.

Someone else might retire on that kind of money and live a carefree life.

A luxury trip around the world, an expensive apartment overlooking the Han River, lazy days out on a yacht at sea, cars worth hundreds of millions of won, every food he had never tasted before.

The list of things he could do was endless, and even imagining them was enough to make him happy.

Wasn’t life short?

With 80 billion won, he could enjoy himself plenty.

But...

The existence of the status window tied his hands.

He thought of all the relics scattered through the world that had been forgotten, unrecognized, and stripped of their value.

He couldn’t just leave them alone with this ability.

And that wasn’t just some thin veneer of morality talking.

The status window had appeared after he left the company.

Because of it, he had gone from a whistleblower to someone who had earned honors in Korea and built a name for himself.

After experiencing Anna’s story inside the Singing Box, some heavy feeling had settled in his chest, something like responsibility, or maybe guilt. He wasn’t sure which.

And above all, I still don’t know enough about the status window.

Not long ago, while walking down the street, he had absentmindedly passed a fashion edit shop sign.

A strange German phrase had been written there in elegant gold script.

Schöne Blume

Without meaning to, the words had slipped from his mouth.

"Schone Blume. Beautiful flower."

The only German he knew was the Guten Tag he had learned in college electives.

He had no memory of learning a phrase like that.

And yet, the moment he looked at the sign, the meaning had simply entered his mind without any process of translation.

As naturally as if it had always been his native language.

What on earth is this?

He had experienced the past through the memories locked inside relics.

Was it possible that the German Anna had used had slowly become assimilated into his own memory?

That was the only explanation he could come up with.

Bit by bit, he was realizing that the status window was affecting him.

The more relics he found, the more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the status window’s secrets he would uncover.

At that moment, Shin A-young fixed him with a direct look and said, "Mr. Si-woo."

"Yes?"

"I want to buy your star power and your eye for value."

Shin A-young took a deep breath and went on.

"Look at the people lined up outside. Do you think all those people came just to see the relics? I don’t think so."

Certainty sharpened her voice.

"They came to consume the story wrapped around the brand name Kim Si-woo, together with the relics. The genius appraiser who found a national treasure in the dirt. That dramatic story is the best marketing point imaginable, something you can’t put a price on."

He wanted to demur modestly and say it wasn’t that much, but the atmosphere wasn’t right for that.

What Shin A-young had said was dead on.

A relic’s price rises when it carries a story.

The public was no different.

They thrilled to the stories hidden inside relics.

"I’ll be blunt. I run a commercial gallery. I love art, but at its core, I’m the representative of a company that has to turn a profit to survive."

Shin A-young defined her position with unsparing clarity.

No one understood better than he did that art and capital were inseparable.

"So here’s my proposal. I’d like to give you a stake in Eterna Gallery, which I currently run, and appoint you as co-representative."

"...A stake and co-representative?"

Si-woo’s eyes widened, and he started to wave her off.

"I’m a complete amateur when it comes to management. I can barely make sense of financial statements, so I don’t think I’m fit for a representative’s seat."

"Don’t worry about that. I’ll handle all the management details. You can keep doing what you’ve been doing all along: finding relics, appraising them, and telling the world your story."

Shin A-young slid a tablet across the table.

"I own 100 percent of Eterna Gallery’s corporate shares. I’ll transfer 20 percent of them to you."

The gallery was a massive structure built on prime land in Cheongdam-dong.

And if he considered all the assets the gallery held...

It was a proposal that bordered on absurd.

"You really don’t have to go that far."

"No. You’re absolutely worth it."

"......No matter how I look at it, this is far too generous."

"I’m saying this after careful calculation."

Shin A-young was adamant.

"If your story is released through Nutflix, its value will only rise further. Based on everything you’ve done so far, I believe you’ll discover even greater relics in the future. Just having the relics you found housed in our gallery will send our brand value soaring. And besides..."

Shin A-young looked straight into his eyes.

"I want to grow this gallery much, much bigger. That’s only possible if we do it together."

He could feel her desire to keep him bound to the gallery somehow, even if it meant giving him equity.

"Honestly, this is an offer I can’t refuse. But I’d like to decline the co-representative position. That would be too much pressure. I’ll keep my current title as it is."

"If that’s what you want, then so be it."

Shin A-young smiled brightly.

"And there’s one more thing I want to tell you."

"What is it?"

"You looked outside just now, didn’t you? The people lined up over there are waiting at least thirty minutes just to get in."

He thought of the long queue stretching away from the gallery.

"What do you think they’ll do after standing around for hours? They’ll either get tired, go home, or start to feel resentful. Right now, we don’t have a proper rest area around the gallery. Just watching visitors wander around clutching convenience store drinks makes my heart ache."

She wasn’t wrong.

Even waiting for a restaurant table could wear a person down.

Standing and waiting had to be far worse.

"I was already thinking of expanding the gallery. While I’m at it, I want to build a café and other facilities outside."

"A café?"

"Not just a café. A space that extends the exhibition itself. For example, tea bags that resemble the celadon hue of Goryeo porcelain, desserts shaped like the smile of the Baekje gilt-bronze Maitreya. We’d fill it with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠products inspired by cultural relics."

Shin A-young’s eyes brightened.

"Visitors will photograph them and post them on social media. It might be more effective than an ad campaign costing tens of millions of won. And if we place a goods shop next to the café, we can connect the flow naturally. They’ll come for coffee and end up buying something without even thinking about it."

She continued.

"For example, if we release tumblers and other high-quality products based on Shin Yun-bok’s works, they’ll catch on. They say half of a museum’s revenue comes from F&B and merchandise. We should follow that model too."

Shin A-young showed him the area around the building on her tablet.

The neighboring building and the parking lot lot beside the gallery.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

And beyond that, a residential complex.

"As the gallery expands, I want to offer places around it where people can engage in cultural activities."

Si-woo asked, concerned, "This is prime Cheongdam-dong land. We’re talking hundreds of millions of won per pyeong. How do you plan to handle that?"

"You don’t need to worry about that."

He looked at her as if asking what she meant.

Shin A-young gave a small laugh and replied, "All the land around here belongs to me."

"......What?"

"Not just that parking lot site. The whole surrounding residential complex is mine too. My father gifted it to me, so you don’t need to worry about the land cost."

Si-woo let out a stunned breath.

He had never imagined that land worth trillions of won in real estate value could all belong to Shin A-young.

Was this what people meant when they talked about overwhelming wealth?

"And... what if we make sure some of the profit goes to the Kim Hak-jun Public Interest Foundation so your reputation stays untarnished?"

"Wouldn’t that hurt profitability too much?"

Reputation mattered, but in the end, a gallery still had to make money to survive.

"Don’t worry about that. I’ll handle the gallery operations. I’ll adjust the ratio appropriately."

"In that case, I’m in favor."

The humid Hong Kong air pressed down on the lungs like a weight.

General Manager Yang Dong-seok had already undone two buttons of his shirt.

"...This is more troublesome than I expected."

Yang Dong-seok muttered as he lit a cigarette with a hiss.

At the planning stage, he had thought this project would be easy.

The clues were clear.

The 1940s.

A four-story apartment villa in the Tokawan area of Kowloon Peninsula.

A Jewish mother and daughter named Anna and Maria.

Yang Dong-seok had boasted confidently to the production team.

"Haha, we have both an address and names, so we’ll find them in no time. We just need to go ask around the local elders in the neighborhood, and the clues will come out quickly, won’t they? Let’s all work hard. A white mother and daughter living on the Kowloon Peninsula back then couldn’t have gone unnoticed."

He had even worried the documentary might end too quickly and leave them without enough footage.

But when they actually opened the lid, the situation was exactly the opposite.

"PD-nim, I just spoke with the district office records archivist."

Chen, the local coordinator, came running back with a miserable look on his face.

"What did they say? Did you find the resident registry from the 1940s?"

"Well... no, they don’t have it."

Chen said awkwardly, "Apparently there was a fire years ago, and all the resident records from that time were destroyed."

"Haa..."

Yang Dong-seok slapped a hand to his forehead with an audible thwack.

No documents.

That left only people.

Clutching at straws, they had gone around searching for local elders who had lived in the area.

"Do you happen to remember a blonde Jewish mother and daughter who lived in that villa back in the 1940s?"

He showed them a copied photograph.

But the answers that came back were hopeless.

"The 1940s? Back then the Japanese army invaded and everyone was fleeing or dying. How could anyone remember anyone?"

"A Western woman? Were there only one or two people dragged off to the camps?"

Damn it.

Yang Dong-seok slumped onto a bench and exhaled a stream of cigarette smoke.

"...Right."

"Pardon?"

"Now this is getting interesting."

Chen looked blank. All the clues were blocked, so what was interesting about that?

"General Manager?"

Yang Dong-seok smiled, the cigarette pinched between his fingers.

"I was thinking too simply. I figured an address and a name would be enough to find them in no time, but if that were true, the documentary would never be any fun."

"Then what should we do?"

"Dig deeper."

"...Pardon?"

"Get more people on the canvassing. Pull up the list of elders from the Kowloon Peninsula again, contact the Jewish community too. Put out a newspaper ad for people who may know something."

"But the budget..."

"This is a project backed by Nutflix. I’ll worry about the budget, so just move."

James laughed.

He could feel Helena’s old passion exactly as it had been back then, when she had been so consumed by research that she had walked out of his life.