Expansion (6)
The weather had been hot in the afternoon, but a cool rain swept through and left the evening pleasantly mild. With all this talk of global warming, it feels like Korea is drifting closer to Southeast Asia. How can it pour buckets for twenty straight minutes and then just stop? I grabbed a can of beer from the fridge, took a long, cold sip, and flipped through the estimate I'd read earlier. Today was another reminder of why people chase professional careers—doctors, lawyers, accountants. Through Director Jo, I floated an offer to the Yeouido boutique for the Haman Factory site. Within a week they arrived with blueprints in hand: projected land-sale price, financing details, even local-government permits, feasibility studies for the recycling plant, and the fees. Across the road from the Haman Factory stood another sizable plant—roughly three thousand pyeong—currently up for auction. They wanted to combine the sites into a single thirteen-thousand-pyeong operation. The quote came in at seven billion won. The commission was officially five percent, but it was five percent here and another five percent there—Kim the accountant’s cut and the previous investor’s cut. They promised to run the deal through three clean rounds.
Production could have continued at Haman, but I didn’t want people coming and going while we cleared the real-estate side and risk exposure. I ordered the line moved to Cheonan. Ali was thrilled to have new work. He quoted ten billion won for the job. When I asked for drawings, he’d already laid out separate lines for BS, the Sleeping Series, and PO. If we added Haman on top of everything else, we wouldn’t be short on capacity—we’d be drowning in supply. The old three-month cycle was about to become monthly. I approved it anyway, thinking of the extra line as a spare in case anything went wrong at the main plant. PO had already moved into trial production.
I asked Ha about the supply chain. He said BS was being distributed as a kind of promotional item. The news sent a chill through me. Mixing those two could kill someone—the fatality rate would spike. If bodies started piling up, we were finished. I voiced my concern about the potency. Ha just smiled. “Isn’t that better?” he said. “We built in a safeguard.” Only then did I understand: he’d engineered BS so it couldn’t be safely redosed in the short term.
Meanwhile, our university Ocean World team had launched its second container into the Pacific. This time the crew had sourced the goods themselves with Hyesun’s help. Banjang and Myeongjae handled most of the procurement, learned tax processing and bookkeeping along the way, and Yunjeong kept everything meticulously organized. The shipment even included a TV—I hoped the folks in Cancun village were enjoying high-definition CNN. I slipped back into ordinary student life, rolling around on the floor. Being a student has its perks. There’s vacation, after all.
I finished my morning workout, showered, and dropped onto the sofa, habitually turning on the TV.
Figures. They sell weapons themselves while complaining about China. I’m clean, at least. Watching the next segment, I finally understood why Ali had taken payment in yuan. Afghanistan ranked among the top importers of Chinese arms. The money he’d received from me had gone straight toward settling those weapon bills.
I was still turning over the international power dynamics when a message arrived from USarmy—something I hadn’t heard from him in a long time.
“Hello. Everything all right on your end?” I opened with the usual business pleasantries.
Damn. That went nowhere. He clearly had no idea how much volume I was moving.
I laid it out plainly, assuming he already knew what else moved through Itaewon.
The situation felt familiar—the same way Nakamura had arranged the Hong Kong incursion from China. Could it be happening again? I wanted to ask, but I knew he wouldn’t answer, so I kept the thought to myself. If the goods bounced back into Korea the way they had from China, we’d end up fighting over market share. I checked inventory with the farms and Ali. Five kilograms of opium were already in-country and ready to move, but Ali pushed for an extra month, promising to bring in fifty kilograms each of cannabis and opium. Whether he was simply good at the game or just wanted to ride the wave while it lasted, I told him to bring it. I didn’t dare ask USarmy for more time—the man was intimidating. The very next day, however, I had to contact him again. Yangcho wanted another month; the fourth farm was back online and would have product ready next month. I reported our current stock—fifty kilograms of cannabis and five of opium—and offered an additional one hundred twenty kilograms of cannabis and fifty-five of opium for the following month. The numbers were starting to look like last time.
International transactions still suited me. Clean, no one getting arrested, margins decent—though retail margins were obviously better, doubling the price. Still, the labor-to-profit ratio wasn’t great. I closed the hundred-billion-won deal and notified the executive team. Ha was impressed. How did I pull off something so big so easily? “They just contact me,” I told him.
I’m leaving today~
Turn off your phone at the airport, please
Don’t come looking for me~
The bright voice of Bolbbalgan4 drifted from the speakers. “Where are you going?” I asked. For the first time in my life, I was at a water park. With whom? Miju, of course. She said she’d come once as a kid but had been too busy studying to return—her first visit in ten years. The place was half people, half water. And why were there so many tattooed guys? Even more noticeable in the changing rooms. After training in Cancun and keeping up with workouts, my body was decent enough, but I was the only one who still looked like plain brown paper. Outside I wore a rash guard; the scars were too obvious. We rode the platform that drops out from under you at the count of three—suddenly I was back in airborne training and felt a little dizzy. The giant funnel ride on inner tubes wasn’t much better. There was a surfing simulator too; I handled it well enough that people around me clapped. After Cancun, these waves barely counted as waves. We rode everything, ate churros, played in the surf—had a good time. I was glad Miju looked so happy. That was the whole point of coming. On the drive back to Seoul I decided to plan a surprise. I hadn’t done much for her lately, and work had swallowed most of my attention. I felt guilty. So I bought a small gold couple’s ring. I’d thought about Cartier or Tiffany, but that would only have earned me a lecture. I told her to wait a moment while I fetched the bouquet and ring from the trunk. Just as I turned back toward the driver’s seat, my eyes met my mother’s—she was returning home. Of all the times to be working on something… She read my expression, smiled faintly, and went inside. “Good timing,” I thought I heard her murmur. I wasn’t sure why the words reached me so clearly.