Chapter 177: Date in Seoul
Chapter 177: Date in Seoul
Watching my past turned into a movie felt incredibly strange.
‘Wow, they really hyped it up.’
The male protagonist was handsome, smart, and kind.
It was probably because they added plenty of cinematic flair.
“Hyung, the actors are pretty captivating, huh?”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
Lee Jong-yeop commented.
As my direct subordinate, he had a significant role in the movie too.
In *God of Investment*, he traveled across the country with the protagonist, making sales calls and hanging out with colleagues.
The movie built tension by occasionally revealing greed and desire for money.
“We must compensate Grandmother for the wrongful loss of her eyesight!”
The scene confronting medical malpractice at the eye clinic in Nonhyeon-dong came out looking cool.
In reality, I’d spoken my mind but inwardly fretted, *Am I gonna get fired from Arcor over this?*
In the movie, he met Han Chae-won, went on dates, and got married.
‘No, don’t do it! Run away!’
I knew it was just a movie.
Yet the pressure felt so suffocating on the big screen.
Only when the end credits rolled did I finally breathe a sigh of relief that it was over.
Clap clap clap clap.
Film industry folks in the audience applauded, and director Seong Ho-jin along with the cast stepped up to the front of the screen.
Director Seong Ho-jin bowed his head in greeting and took the mic.
“This film features Earth Resource’s CEO Kim Shin as the protagonist. We’d like to note that it’s based on true events.”
From the subject’s perspective, it wasn’t exactly real.
My middle and high school days were heavily romanticized.
Studying finance diligently in a rundown house? Come on.
‘I didn’t even know how to invest in stocks properly until Coin hit the jackpot.’
Anyway, the reactions from those who watched were positive.
“Fun!”
“Let’s hit 200 million viewers worldwide! 200 million!”
“Can’t wait for part two already.”
In the past, ten million domestic viewers had signaled a blockbuster.
Now that streaming platforms dominated the market, global viewership mattered more than the domestic box office.
Well-made movies and dramas could top charts in dozens of countries.
‘Feels like a festival anyway.’
My first time at a premiere.
Seeing filmmakers create and celebrate together was nice.
Subjective as it was, the movie was enjoyable.
The early parts had a bit of melodrama, but there were plenty of fun scenes centered on poverty.
Slicing up an 800-won sausage to last four days—peak survival mode.
The fierce argument with Oh Myeong-woo over splurging 20 won on pricier ramen.
I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, and since they were real experiences, we could turn poverty into comedy.
‘Those were the days. Good that the protagonist doesn’t come off depressed.’
I never saw childhood poverty as tragic.
Money was always scarce, so scrimping every penny—saving 1,000 won here, 2,000 there—had its own fun.
I’d been playing head of household since my teens.
The director wove in the points I’d shared with him, shaping the overall vibe.
Of course, I had been luckier than most children who grew up poor.
Born healthy, no illnesses, and Father worked steadily.
‘Overall, it builds anticipation for the movie.’
They packed my life from childhood to becoming a salaryman into a 1-hour-50-minute film.
Part two would cover investments and making money, with scenes teasing future events nicely.
“CEO, please say a few words.”
The director and actors shared their thoughts in turn, then the mic came to me in the audience.
I stood, taking the mic.
“I lived in abject poverty as a kid, so thank you for turning it into such a cool story.”
“Hahaha.”
Laughter rippled through the film folks.
Who knows how they took it, but this was sincere wrapped in a joke.
“I won’t hold back support for Korean films and content to go global via Earth Channel.”
I scanned the audience briefly.
Meant to keep it short, but famous directors and actors watched me eagerly.
Earth Channel’s metrics, including subscribers, were overwhelming, and it had become a global pipeline for Korean content.
If I had to say something here… honesty’s best.
When you can’t dazzle with rhetoric to the public, just be real.
“The film industry is amazing. Great scripts, actors, and staff unite to deliver emotion and fun. I remember when a single movie on TV was my life’s joy.”
Gained indirect experiences in unknown worlds, pure entertainment.
A new realm every time the film started.
“Earth Channel and Dream Art Rainbow will stick to the basics. We’ll scout great stories and invest relentlessly. We’ll bring joy and inspiration to as many people as possible.”
Thunderous applause from the film industry pros.
* * *
Lee Jong-yeop slipped out of the premiere venue quietly.
While Kim Shin mingled with film folks, he had plenty of secretary chief duties.
“Prime Minister An Hee-sang, Seoul Mayor, ministers, and numerous assembly members?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Report from a Dream Art Rainbow staffer.
“All these people want to meet hyung?”
“Yes. Even briefly is fine, they say. They’re requesting photos together too.”
So that’s why the politicians swarmed the premiere—eyeing these perks.
Lee Jong-yeop checked the attendee list and spotted his own father.
‘He said nothing when I left the house this morning…’
Politicians really can’t be trusted.
It was the same elsewhere, but in Korea and Northeast Asia, they saw themselves as the elite.
Lee Jong-yeop muttered to himself.
“If I let them meet, it’ll blow up for sure.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.”
Kim Shin wasn’t fond of politicians. He’d chat politely enough, but cross the line and he’d hit back hard.
People only knew half of Kim Shin.
If truly vile, cunning types overstepped, he treated them like dirt.
Back at Arcor, he’d handled directors who partied till dawn then botched procedures in the morning.
Ones boasting flashy affairs—Lee Jong-yeop took those.
‘Meeting politicians all day? He’d explode twenty times at least.’
Lee Jong-yeop texted Kim Shin.
―Lee Jong-yeop: Hyung, politicians at the premiere are requesting meetings. Think we should at least briefly?
―Kim Shin: Ugh, really don’t wanna.
I had expected that.
―Lee Jong-yeop: Then I’ll handle them instead.
―Kim Shin: Thanks.
Kim Shin rarely said thanks lightly.
When he did, he meant it.
Lee Jong-yeop grinned and replied.
―Lee Jong-yeop: Yes, hyung.
* * *
After the premiere, time with Jo Soo-ah felt precious.
“Wanna do a date in Seoul instead of traveling out of town?”
“Sure.”
We picked Seoul spots over beaches or tourist sites.
So many dates I’d missed as a kid.
I wanted to visit Gyeongbok Palace and shop at a department store on the weekend, just like an ordinary couple.
“But there’s not much to see once we’re here.”
Summer heat was brutal, yet we strolled Gyeongbok Palace.
“Tired?”
“I’m okay.”
As we walked hand in hand despite the heat and sweat, the reality of our ordinary date finally sank in.
“Let’s hit the department store now. Wanna shop with my girlfriend.”
“Sounds good.”
At the Myeongdong department store, we picked outfits for each other.
Last time with Han Chae-won, prices made my stomach churn—brands I couldn’t afford then felt cheap now.
Buying the whole store wouldn’t dent my wallet.
‘This building’s worth a trillion won or so?’
I picked out a pair of matching padded winter coats for us.
“Pretty. I’ll buy it.”
“It’s too expensive… White gets dirty fast, you know.”
“Pretty, so we buy. You know I’m loaded. All I’ve got is money.”
Sunglasses and mask on, light banter as we tried on clothes.
Still, anonymity was tough.
The clerk taking my card paused, confused.
“What’s this?”
“A card.”
The card was a platinum Chase Palladium issued by JP Morgan.
Clerk freaked.
“The name says Earth Resource Kim Shin?”
“…….”
“Is this really Kim Shin oppa?”
The cute clerk blinked.
Laser-engraved company and name—no denying.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Eek!”
I briefly removed my mask to show her, then paid.
Of course, I gave her a photo and an autograph.
As we left, Jo Soo-ah said,
“What if our date gets out?”
“Then I’d owe you an apology.”
“Huh?”
“Sudden fame means reporters swarm, messing up daily life.”
Jo Soo-ah gave me a knowing look.
She’d probably misunderstood why we’d kept things secret till now.
“You okay if people know I’m your girlfriend?”
“Yeah. I’m fine with it.”
I truly did not care.
I had practically lived on burgers with Oh Myeong-woo until Jo Soo-ah came along.
I had no interest in seeing other women or chasing their attention.
“Wow, really? Kinda touched.”
“Yeah. Nice if you get it.”
“But no other cards?”
“Have some, but they’re awkward to pull out too.”
The other card was an American Express Centurion.
Hollywood stars use it; in Korea, the Amex Black.
I pulled it from my wallet.
“This one’s the most mainstream people might recognize.”
“What about the others?”
“Coutts World Silk Card.”
“What’s that?”
“Mostly for European royalty. The rep flew from the US to issue it after I helped with COVID relief in the UK and France.”
In San Francisco, I mostly used it at burger joints, pizza places, coffee shops—didn’t spend big locally.
In terms of actual spending, I was probably in the bottom one percent of cardholders.
* * *
Time flew enjoying a Seoul date with Jo Soo-ah.
〈‘God of Investment’ Premiere Buzzes with Praise〉
〈‘God of Investment’ Premieres on Earth Channel Next Week〉
Embarrassing to see myself in a movie, but too late to stop it now.
I went to Mirae Motors’ headquarters.
I had returned to the place where I had once received the information about Nikola.
A week had passed as promised.
“The Chairman’s waiting.”
A Mirae Motors Managing Director greeted me in the lobby and led the way.
I could feel how much my status had changed, although I had already sensed it upon arriving in Korea.
“Thanks.”
Employees’ stares followed as I moved with security.
I took the executive elevator from the first floor directly to the chairman’s level.
“Come on in.”
“Nice to meet you.”
I shook hands with Jin Myeong-il and sat down.
Even though I was alone with the chairman of Mirae Group, I felt no nervousness.
I met the chairmen of Isung Group, which dominated in sales and profits; DK, which was expanding through semiconductors and biotechnology; and LK, which was strong in chemicals, batteries, and electronics.
By then, I had met most of the country’s most powerful business figures.
“So, why’d you want to meet me?”
Jin Myeong-il cut straight to it on the sofa.
That directness was typical of Mirae Group’s aggressive style.
“Well, you see…”
Standing face-to-face with Chairman Jin Myeong-il, I found it difficult to say what I wanted.
How do you demand they hand over Mirae Motors’ core secrets?