Manila's Initiative
Manila brother's attempt is solid. If he's stepping up this proactively—wait, didn't the Russia incident happen right after he got involved? That's not my concern. The real issue is how to ship the product. Can we just use FedEx for international delivery? Or do I have to hand-deliver it myself?
It wasn't like the old days of stuffing pockets anymore. To make the delivery fees worthwhile, we'd probably need to move at least a kilogram at a time. Manila brother clearly hadn't thought that far ahead. His reply didn't come right away.
That evening, a message arrived.
The organization must be bigger than I thought. They even have their own couriers. I should learn their methods. Right now I'm exporting through middlemen, but someday I might handle direct exports myself.
What kind of nonsense was that? I couldn't even trust people domestically, and now he wanted me to extend credit overseas? I forced myself to stay calm. He was living abroad because of me, after all.
The Philippines had been all flash and no substance. I'd gotten excited thinking I'd secured a new client for nothing. There was a compound called acetaminophen. It had pain-relieving effects, and when taken with caffeine, the effects kicked in quickly. I felt like I'd found something promising.
But one of Team Leader Seon's requirements was low addictiveness. The body didn't build tolerance easily, which was good for a medicine but meant it wouldn't drive increased demand. Research and development really was this difficult. You had to cover the weaknesses while maximizing the strengths, and every time you fixed one thing, another problem popped up.
Then there was sildenafil from our older brother's recipe—the active ingredient in Viagra. It improved blood circulation while treating erectile dysfunction. I considered it. Faster blood flow might speed up the drug's effect and influence duration. I decided to keep the ingredient, but only in a small amount.
I still dropped by Noryangjin occasionally. The tuition felt too expensive to waste. My instructor scolded me, saying that even if I was doing well, too many absences could mean failing the exam. I nodded and played the good student.
"I've been a bit lost lately. I'll attend properly from now on."
Where had that even come from? Just six months ago, I was…
I returned to daily life as Eunsu. I studied for the exam, studied pharmacology, and a new product was developed. I issued a personnel order to the deputy director to make Team Leader Seon independent. Following our promotion policy, I promoted someone into Team Leader Seon's old position and ordered the hiring of a new employee. I also got Team Leader Seon's contact information and reached out directly. I could have routed orders through the deputy director, but I decided to keep them separate. If anything went wrong, it would stop at Team Leader Seon. She wasn't like Pool, after all.
Honestly, I wasn't sure if this Blue project would succeed. I'd have to wait and see whether the venture capital firm in the proposal became a unicorn or not.
It was the first time I'd contacted anyone in the logistics department besides the director. I felt strangely excited. What would she say?
She completely ignored me. Damn it… Was she refusing to acknowledge me as president?
That evening, after whining to the deputy director about why I wasn't getting any replies, I finally received a message.
Elites really were something else. At least she followed orders well.
Getting to the point, I told her the new product was ready and to distribute samples—about ten grams—for market research. I asked for a report next week on whether it had market potential and what the pricing should be. It felt like buying an unscratched lottery ticket. Someone always won, even if the odds were low.
I must have underestimated Team Leader Seon's abilities. Her reply came the very next day.
I had no choice but to trust her.
While living my ordinary life, I became a high school graduate one summer day. As soon as I received my license, I contacted the real estate agent—well, the middleman.
I sent him a resume with my personal details. He had to enroll me in the four major insurances, of course.
On my long-awaited first day of work, I bought a suit like Jang-gye from One International and even wore a tie. This calm feeling, this moderate tension—it felt like I'd finally become a proper member of society. So this was what a normal person's life felt like.
Ever since meeting Skylight, I'd been living a completely different life from ordinary Koreans. Have you ever tasted crab—no, have you ever fought a guerrilla war or anything like that? Anyway, I should at least greet the president and keep my seat warm.
The office was a small space in a knowledge industry center in Pangyo IT Valley. As expected from a middleman, he'd secured a long-term lease with government support. The rent was surprisingly similar to my one-room apartment in Noryangjin. There were even tax benefits, though you had to actually make money before paying taxes. It was supposed to be a paper company, but it looked far too legitimate.
Hadn't he said it was a five-person company in the proposal? When I arrived, five people were already seated besides me and the president. Two groups separated by partitions. On the left side, there was even a desk with my name on it—complete with a desktop computer. "Choi Eunsu, Employee…" My face and nameplate sat on the desk. The middleman had gone all out. I liked it.
I shouted like I was really starting work.
"Hello! New employee Choi Eunsu reporting for duty!"
They completely ignored me. The four men stared at me like I was some kind of weirdo, while one female employee smiled and walked over to talk to me. Those ten seconds felt like a Monday morning from hell. Was I finally going to experience Monday mornings too?
Her face wasn't similar, but her eyes looked just like the middleman's. Probably his daughter. That meant the older brother might be around somewhere, though I couldn't spot anyone who resembled him.
I decided to focus on adapting first. I'd survived in the middle of the Caribbean, after all.
"Follow me. Let's greet the president."
"Yes!"
When I entered the president's office, the middleman—no, the president—was sitting there.
"Sorry, but could you grab me a cup of coffee?"
"Choi, the new employee?"
"Ah, yes. I'll have the same, please."
Even his speech pattern had changed. Was this the power of money? The female employee returned shortly with two Americanos, as if they'd been prepared in advance. Once she left, the president reverted to the middleman I knew.
"That's my daughter. Haha. But President, you actually came."
Of course. This was my long-cherished business venture.
"I was surprised when I first arrived. You even hired real employees."
"I didn't expect this business to go so well either."
Listening to him, I realized just how shrewd he was. At first, he'd only had his son repost articles from other media outlets. As long as the source was properly credited, everything worked out. That explained why searching certain keywords brought up identical articles from different outlets.
His son apparently inherited his father's talent. He stopped coming into the office and just wandered around instead. When the middleman scolded him for not doing his work, the son claimed he'd finished everything. Then he showed his phone—articles were being published even though no one was in the office.
When asked how, the son explained it was RPA. He launched into a full lecture as if he were an expert, and I found myself listening, entranced. RPA stood for Robotic Process Automation—software that handled repetitive tasks automatically. It was a program that took input commands and produced output.
The more I listened, the more I wondered why someone this capable was still living as a parasite under his father.
The system searched real-time trending keywords on green search bars or major global engines, archived the sources and articles, and published them once approved via phone. The next part opened up an entirely new world to me.
When articles went up, people contacted them about "sensitive articles" and asked for them to be taken down. When I asked if they really had that much influence, he laughed and replied that large corporations had plenty of money. Even new media outlets could be controlled, apparently. When group-related keywords appeared, the PR or media strategy departments contacted them directly. After exchanging greetings, building connections, and sharing drinks, cooperative outlets received advertising deals.
That's why he'd hired his son—to act as the "drinking executive." Ah… so the drinking executives were the reporters, the son was the desk, and the daughter handled general affairs. What did the wife do? And what was my role?
"Just do whatever you want. You can come in or go out and wander around. Just make the deposits. Haha."
That day, I transferred the remaining 50 million won.