A New Beginning
"Next up, news from North Korea."
"According to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the military detected several missiles launched from the Sariwon area in North Hwanghae Province toward the East Sea around 7:30 this morning."
"The military stated that the North Korean missiles flew approximately 400 kilometers."
"In response, the South Korean government held a security council meeting and issued a message urging the UN to pass a resolution."
North Korea firing missiles again? They do that all the time, don't they? Using the news as background noise, I was exchanging messages with Song Miju. As expected of an elite, she couldn't reply during class, but messages came in steadily during lunch or breaks. Whether she was jealous of my life as a jobless bum or just didn't want to see it, she kept nagging me to do something, but even that felt cute. Still, maybe I shouldn't just brush it off. I probably need to actually do something. It doesn't seem like just keeping myself alive is enough.
A message came saying she was heading back to class, and I fell into thought. A nap. Ding~
What woke me from my nap was a message from hyung. 'Where are you?' It had been a while. I wondered how he was doing. 'Have you been well? I'm in Noryangjin.' 'Exit 1 in two hours.'
Same as ever. I got up, showered, and got ready to go out. I crossed the overpass where I'd met Song Miju and waited at Exit 1. A heavy Mercedes glided up smoothly. Should I get a car too? Maybe a mid-size sedan? Suddenly the accountant came to mind. This kind of thing isn't good in our line of work. Since we operate outside the system, we can't use legal collection methods and have to handle things privately. Still, I'd gotten several months' salary and help with identity laundering, so I was satisfied I hadn't taken a big loss and let go of any greed.
"Get in."
Hyung took the Gyeongin Expressway and headed toward Bucheon. "Where are we going?"
Just answer already. We drove further until we reached a quiet beach with a view of Yeongjongdo in Incheon. Hyung really liked secluded places. Or maybe he just liked water? Reservoirs, the South Sea, the West Sea...
"You're selling product in Bucheon and Incheon, right?"
Of course. In the senior's territory. "Yes."
"Prepare for war."
Hyung explained. There was a power vacuum. The local interests that had been swept away by public authority were floating around, and no one knew who would inherit them. In the chaos of reorganization, sparks could fly and hit us. If we just sat back and took the damage, the existing market would suffer too. We had to make anyone who tried something ready to get hurt—or die.
I'd heard something like this before. It was what the senior had said. But how was I supposed to prepare? I wasn't a soldier whose goal was war, and I'd been exempted from service. He should at least give me some advice before leaving. As usual, he only said what he wanted and dropped me off at Line 1 station before disappearing.
What else could I do? I reached out to my contacts as always. Starting with the senior, my strategist and guide. No reply. 'Deputy, do you have time?' -GB(37.8) 'Yes, go ahead.' -Hamo-hamo(37.0)
I explained the situation. He was surprised. Especially by the fact that we had no armed organization. We didn't. At best, there was Eun-seong. 'I'll look into it.' -Hamo-hamo(37.0)
Then a management suggestion came up. 'It might be good to have a legitimate organization in the open, separate from our product organization.' -Hamo-hamo(37.0)
After working at a media company, that seemed like a decent idea. Was that the kind of business he meant? I asked for more details, and he said he'd send a proposal. This guy really knew how to run an organization.
I also contacted Eun-seong, one of our current armed members. His replies were slow because of his injured arm, but he responded diligently. After explaining the situation and asking if he knew anyone who could handle physical work, he got excited. He had three younger brothers looking for jobs. I scolded him for not recommending them sooner if he had people, and he said he hadn't thought we'd accept them. That felt good as the boss. Finding a decent job like this was like picking stars from the sky. I told him to send simple résumés. He said he'd send them right away, and he did. They seemed connected to the deputy. Why? The format was exactly the same as the five résumés from last time. No, the deputy? If you're a department head, that's fine. Our organization is growing well. Department heads are judged by results. A famous management scholar once said that the key to maintaining an organization is having each person perform at the level appropriate to their position. The example really hit home. A hitter only needs to hit well. You shouldn't expect them to excel at everything else. The next theory was the Ohio theory, I think? Don't treat people like machines. All of it made sense. The following theory was that it depends on the situation, the person, and the organization. In other words, there is no single answer.
The next day, while mentally preparing for war but physically lounging around, I received a five-page proposal. New Business Plan
The plan had three stages. If realized, it seemed like a solid business idea.
1. Acquire an existing welfare foundation, association, or organization. A footnote addressed my likely question: Why not create a new one? The deputy had anticipated it. Creating a new one would invite government scrutiny and audits. He recommended an orphanage. Disability welfare required too much hands-on work. Medical issues would bring outsiders in and out, raising the risk of exposure. Scholarship or education foundations made it hard to employ people since only money moved. Right.
2. Deposit a certain amount into the acquired welfare foundation as anonymous donations. Reporting it as cash received wouldn't be a big problem. As long as the donation receipt statements were properly filed with the tax office, it would be fine. He also explained the money laundering method: anonymous donor. Just hand over the money and leave.
3. Conduct business under the foundation's name. Examples included simple manufacturing, printing, and other labor-intensive businesses. Thanks to laws like the Small and Medium Enterprise Promotion Act and the Act on Support for Women-Owned Businesses, certain amounts had to be spent mandatorily. Once we secured public supply contracts, we could operate without suspicion. In short, receiving public certification would complete the laundering process.
Reading the proposal, I saw the orphanage recommendation and thought of my old home. The orphanage where hyung and I grew up. I contacted him. 'Hyung, is our old house still there?' 'Just the title.'
I showed him the proposal and said I wanted to acquire it. 'Do it.'
That day, I went back to the house where I'd spent my childhood for the first time in five years. I needed to do a preliminary inspection. Basic real estate stuff. I rented a car through an app and left. On the way to the old house, all kinds of thoughts flooded in. The old house was in Boeun County, Chungcheongbuk-do, with a view of Daecheong Lake in the distance. You had to drive quite a ways after getting off the highway. Deep in the mountains. It was impressive how our mother had abandoned us all the way out here. After exiting at Hoein IC, I took national roads, then narrow farm roads, and finally an unpaved mountain path. Seeing it again, it was perfect as a hideout. Occupational hazard? I was already thinking like that. No one passed by, it was far from residential areas, and most importantly, it seemed like no one would care. But it was too specific. Anyone driving this road had only one destination: our house.
When I arrived, the house from my memories was gone. It wasn't a place where people lived anymore. It had been abandoned. The sign at the entrance was the only thing that remained the same. Brotherhood Welfare Center. I think the director used to brag that a calligrapher had donated it. I parked the car on the unpaved mountain road and went in. Actually, it was locked, so I climbed over the wall. In the empty lot that used to be the playground, there were only faded benches and weeds. Nothing but the passage of time. What had happened in five years? What about the younger kids? The building couldn't be used right away. It needed money. As I was leaving, I noticed a bundle of mail in the mailbox. Curious, I opened it. Half was addressed to the director. Half to hyung. Most of the director's mail was collection notices and court documents about foreclosure proceedings. At some point the title had changed to hyung's name, and the mail was now utility bills and tax notices. What? It was hyung's? When I asked when he'd acquired it, the reply came. 'When that bastard died.' 'I'll send the documents and the certificate.'
I didn't know why the text smelled like blood.