Global (4)
The next day, I was preparing for a business trip to the Cheonan factory. This was my responsibility, so I had to go. There was simply too much volume to delegate to the guys below me.
After finishing my preparations, I greeted Madame Lee and was heading out the door with Cheol-min when a call came in from Manager Yeoni.
"Chairman, what exactly is the shipment?"
"I thought it was car parts?"
"Customs contacted us."
"The shipper wants the container opened together for inspection before release?"
Shit.
I immediately called Uncle Gonzales.
He sent a link. I copied it and opened it on my phone. It looked like some kind of device mounted beside an engine, but I had no idea what it was. Never heard of it before.
Since there was a recycling plant in Haman, I could claim we were delivering it there. The drive down to Pyeongtaek had me shaking. As the trading company's representative, going myself made sense, but what if I got caught? I kept imagining the container opening to reveal 300 kg of cocaine sitting right there, ending with an on-site arrest. My already trembling body shook even harder.
Cheol-min kept giving me strange looks, so I told him he'd understand if he ever got arrested himself.
The entrance gate to Pyeongtaek Port felt like walking into a police station. It gave me chills.
There was an information booth at the entrance. The security guard stopped me.
"How can I help you?"
"Hello. I'm Choi Eunsu. Customs contacted me."
"Yes, what is this regarding?"
"They told me to confirm with the person in charge and release the container."
He made a call somewhere, then asked my name again.
"Choi Eunsu."
"He says Choi Eunsu."
After a short wait, the guard escorted me. I was told to go to the Investigation Division on the third floor. The department name alone sounded ominous.
The entrance displayed "Pyeongtaek Customs," and inside were the usual slogans and history displays, but none of it registered. Heart pounding, I climbed to the third floor and opened the Investigation Division door. The youngest staff member inside spoke first.
"How can I help you?"
"The guard sent me here?"
"Your name?"
"Choi Eunsu."
He said "Just a moment" and disappeared inside, returning with a tall man.
"Ah, I'm the investigator who contacted you. Our drug dog flagged something, but this is..."
Well-trained dog, damn it. I tried to deflect.
"Drugs? That can't be right. We imported this to melt down at our recycling plant."
"I saw the documents too. I'm sorry, but regulations require this. Please cooperate."
I looked for an opening to offer a bribe, but they were working in pairs. Uncle Gonzales, maybe Korea really is still clean. They didn't even hint at the word.
Behind the building sat a cart like the ones at golf courses. They climbed on and drove deeper inside.
The youngest who had guided me and the investigator muttered to each other while searching for the container.
"Next block, turn left. They said they pulled it out."
"Ah, that must be it."
We got off the cart and approached the container. They flipped through documents I didn't understand.
"Sender is Gonzales?"
"Yes."
"I'll take a photo."
He photographed the sealed container.
"I'll record the consent details."
He recited something at length. From what I caught, it was about legal authority to open the container, the shipper's duty to cooperate, and finally, "Do you consent?"
I couldn't make out the rest, but I answered yes. After three yeses, the tall man retrieved equipment from the cart and began opening the container.
The moment it opened, we had no choice but to cover our noses. The stench of a garbage dump poured out, and up close I saw lumps of some unidentifiable oil stuck to the contents.
The youngest behind us said he would take photos. The investigator who had opened the door stepped aside while the youngest snapped pictures from various angles.
"Close it."
That's it? Lucky break.
But the youngest's expression looked off.
"Senior, regulations say we should take one sample for investigation, right?"
I thought my heart would stop. Youngest, can't we just close it?
"I'll handle the paperwork. Let's close this one. My head's already spinning."
Fuck! Uncle Gonzales, we won.
As promised to the investigator, we took the container straight to the recycling plant in Haman instead of Cheonan. I didn't want to risk another inspection revealing inconsistencies.
It was my first visit since Accountant Kim had taken over operations, and I barely recognized the place. Everything had changed.
The old container where Yeoni and her sister once lived was gone. In its place stood a proper three-story office building.
At the entrance guard post I gave the prearranged story and was let through. I unloaded the container in the front parking lot and sent the truck away.
While the container was being lowered, Yeoni's sister and a man stepped out of the office building.
Long time no see. Actually, this was our first proper meeting. During the nationwide tour I'd only caught a glimpse of her face.
"Chairman, please come up."
I had time before the internal affairs team arrived, so I went upstairs.
"You seem to know him?"
"I heard from Deputy Director Ha. Oh, is he an executive director now?"
I vaguely remembered something like that. He was the one who had wanted to retire about a year ago, though I wasn't sure of the details.
"Ah, yes. How's the work treating you? You've helped me so much. You should be taking it easy."
"It's good. I'm grateful you gave me a way to earn a living after I hit rock bottom."
I asked about business conditions and whether the production lines were running smoothly, then took a tour. It was an expanded version of the Cheonan plant. The larger site allowed for a wider layout. Still, the front remained a recycling plant—filthy—then suddenly everything turned pristine. It was jarring.
"We don't go over there. The door only opens when goods arrive, and lately we haven't been receiving anything, so it stays shut."
"There's a security guard, though?"
"Sweet position. All he has to do is sit there."
After one loop we returned to the office. A woman I didn't recognize was there. On second glance, it was Yeoni's sister's wife. She held a baby wrapped in a blanket. Thankfully, nothing looked wrong with the child from the outside.
"You've probably heard the story. We need to handle some work."
"Please have the guard leave early, saying a guest arrived. Find a spot to lay out the container and bring a desk."
"Ah, it's clean enough. No need. I already opened it earlier. It was just oil lumps."
"Yes, it's a recycling plant. Spreading it in the empty lot won't draw attention. I'll set it up somewhere out of sight."
Once the lights went out at the guard post, I called the internal affairs team and we began work.
It was a collection area for recycled materials, well lit enough to work comfortably. The container was already open, door only loosely closed, so setup was quick.
I pulled out a part, wiped it with a cloth, and noticed bolt marks. I unscrewed it with an electric drill, but the goods weren't there. No matter how I turned it, the space that should have held them was empty.
What the hell?
I grabbed another part, wiped it, and unscrewed the bolts. Phew. This one had it. Random game?
I assigned roles. With more people, we'd finish fast. Five to unload from the container, five to clean with cloths, three to unscrew and extract, two to pack. I supervised.
When I tried to pitch in, Manager Eun-seong stopped me. He said it wouldn't look right for the chairman to get covered in oil. So I stood with my hands behind my back, pretending to make calls—reserving dinner, preparing to spend money.
Fifteen people made 300 kg go quickly. But after about 250 kg, one internal affairs team member spoke up.
"Chairman, I marked the ones that contained goods. The brands with and without product are different."
Ah, damn it... I shouldn't have said anything. The others would get annoyed.
Embarrassed that I hadn't noticed earlier, I quietly slipped outside.
A little later Manager Eun-seong came out and reported that it was exactly 300 kg.
I ordered the goods moved and asked him to handle cleanup. I also told him the restaurant I'd reserved as thanks, then left. I'd heard the boss leaving early was charming.
Then I messaged Uncle Gonzales that I'd received the goods and pressed approval.
When would I ever process this again? The white-socks lady had chewed me out thoroughly and I'd even taken on the inventory. Life really is like the old man losing his horse. Too many goods is a problem~ too few is also a problem~