Clear Autumn Skies

The autumn sky stretches vast and clear~ high and cloudless~ the bright moon in our hearts~ unwavering loyalty~

It was a bright, clear autumn afternoon with a high, pristine sky. I sat on Saetbit Island, about an hour's walk from the school, taking in the scenery. The Han River looked especially beautiful.

Straight to the point. Typical no-nonsense Russian guy. I saw no reason to beat around the bush either, though dealing with someone this big felt intimidating.

I threw in a bit of self-deprecation first.

No need, that's already more than enough. I'm not starting a war here. Still, what does SK mean? Ah... South Korea. So the deal can happen right away.

Happy to help the security team get what they want. According to Uncle Gonzales, the price would be higher than what his people charge. They have steady supply and demand, so their rates are almost wholesale. Over there, supply is unstable, so it costs more. Sure enough, he quoted twice what Gonzales had mentioned. Well, nothing I could do—I was the one in the weaker position. I negotiated hard but didn't shave off much. After settling the price and sending the money through Skylight, the deal went through as casually as buying carrots at the market.

The pickup location was a bit far—Donghae. They told me to come to a fisheries warehouse in Donghae-si, Gangwon Special Self-Governing Province. I contacted the security team and gave them operational instructions. Even if the other side seemed cool, the transaction itself might not be. I also gave them a cash bonus for their hard work last time and told them to grab a good meal in Donghae, pick up the goods, and head back. Then the team leader said,

Come on, this is plenty. Our goal isn't to build a special forces unit.

The next day I received the report.

While I was helping the security team fulfill their wish and swimming through the community sea, a message arrived.

It had been a while since I'd heard from our chaebol farmer, Candlelight.

Candlelight was also a manager now. His surname was Kim, so he was Manager Kim. But "Candlelight hyung" had stuck. That could be dangerous if I slipped up.

Whenever this guy contacts me, it makes me nervous. Last time he nearly burned down the farm. From what he said, the situation was serious. Our Manager Kim, living as a hermit on the island in Shinan, had been raising abalone and other products. Everything was thriving exactly as the saying "daily renewal" suggested. Abalone shipments were steady, and he was spending money freely. From what I'd seen, anyone at manager level or above seemed to be under constant surveillance by our executive team.

Here's what happened. While traveling between the island and the mainland, he'd gotten friendly with the local police at the substation. Then the farm got compromised. A cop suddenly showed up wanting a drink of makgeolli and ran into him coming out of the farm. Damn, we're screwed? He should've told me right away. But there was a reason he hadn't mentioned it immediately. Thinking on his feet, Candlelight had slipped the cop some pocket money, and the officer had looked the other way after taking the bribe. He said if they cracked down on every little hobby farm, maintaining public order would be impossible. Still... wasn't the scale a bit large? It looked like five kilos a month were going out. After a few months, the cop had gotten a taste for the money and couldn't control himself. It started in the hundred-thousand-won range, but before long it climbed to the million-won level. That's why he'd contacted me—he couldn't handle it anymore.

When I quickly briefed our executives, the deputy chief said he'd handle it. The chief could be a bit extreme—he'd sent several people last time. When I asked for specifics, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he replied,

Sounded like a good idea. I told him to proceed with as much persuasion as possible. I was worried about the compromised site and asked,

Maybe I'd pushed too hard. 120 kilos was nearly six months' worth of product. I told him,

After setting the direction for the farm issue, I fell asleep hoping it would end safely. The next day I received the problematic cop's resume. It looked like an official National Police Agency form. At the bottom was a report to the Commissioner General with a handwritten signature confirming the facts were accurate. How did they get this? Our organization was becoming quite impressive.

Name: Pi Yunhyeong
Age: Born 1979
Education: Heuksan Elementary – Heuksan Middle – Gwangju High School – Chonnam National University, Police Administration Department
Career: Patrol officer via open recruitment, 20 years of service
Marital status: Unmarried

The next page was labeled "Reference Notes." It said he was a native of Jeolla Province, well-regarded within the police force, and had a decent work reputation. I told Candlelight that the organization would help, so he shouldn't worry and should keep producing. Even if he got caught, we'd back him up, so he shouldn't destroy evidence—just let it happen. Since the police already knew, he should act openly. We'd also make sure he got his retirement pay. Now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that our Candlelight had grown quite a bit, he replied boldly.

Huh? New information. I'd have to look into that.

From ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what he said, it seemed this guy was planning to set up a site in every province. The location was good and the environment wasn't bad either. It was a small island off Yeosu-si in South Jeolla Province, similar in size to the one in Shinan. Originally about five households had lived there, but they'd all left, leaving only empty house sites. There were wells behind the houses too. When had he found this? He'd even already bought it. He said he'd gone to a fishing village meeting and a fisheries cooperative employee had introduced him. His infrastructure game was no joke.

When I told the deputy chief about the police intel and the new site, he gave me an update on how far things had progressed. Personnel for operations were already lined up. Who? Blueandgreen. He had enough money to spend and had told the deputy chief he wanted to live as a hermit. The reason was family-related—he'd gotten divorced a few years ago. The stress had driven him to drugs, and he'd kept working just to survive. After meeting me, he hadn't expected this to become his main job. When I asked who would handle distribution, he said Hyesun was already doing about half of it. When I asked if she was busy, he said it wasn't physical work—just using her head, so it was fine. She had plenty of hands below her.

I asked about the purchase price of the island in the middle of the conversation, intending to pay, but he said he'd take responsibility, just like last time. Fine. Do whatever you want. I'll just focus on selling the product. After a long time, I contacted Blueandgreen directly and told him myself. He'd worked hard. He should enjoy life on the island, and if he ever wanted to leave, he could contact us anytime. Since this site was a spare rather than the main operation, he didn't need to push himself too hard. Even after I said that, the organization moved so efficiently that three months later a report came up saying product would be ready.