Winning the First Building
I had flown fourteen hours from Seoul to New York for today's meeting — to close the bid on my first building without a single mistake. I had not come all this way to sit through that kind of nonsense.
And it wasn't as if I'd asked them for a free consultation. This meeting had been arranged on the understanding that I would pay a fair fee for an expert's precise judgment. Yet Ethan Trump had spent my precious time grumbling that the meeting itself was a waste of time.
So he needed to leave, didn't he?
Ethan, wearing an expression of pure disbelief, turned to Alex.
"You're not actually telling me to go... right?"
Alex read the stillness on my face and answered with careful formality.
"I believe you should."
"Ha! Well, this is... I can't even believe this."
Ethan Trump shoved his chair back with an angry scowl and stormed out of the conference room.
Ten seconds after the door shut, the silence that settled over the room was exactly to my liking. I opened my mouth.
"Now that the attendees have changed, let's revise the plan. We'll discuss the renewal of the Douglas Building — soon to become the Xeros Building. Mr. Logan, if you'd start with a briefing on the building's current condition."
Six hours before the auction. I intended to absorb as much of the architect's information as possible over the next four hours. Only then could I judge which floors would be most efficient to staff first.
Today was November 1, 2024.
Sixty months remaining.
"Ha! I seriously cannot believe this."
Back at his office, Ethan Trump was so stunned he could only laugh.
"He's going to win an auction without a single expert in the room? Fine. Let's see how that works out for him!"
Too angry to sit still, Ethan grabbed his phone and dialed.
"Hey. It's me. You going in on the Douglas Building bid this time? No? Then who is? Where? Prime Group? They're the favorite? Any idea who's handling it on their end? Why would I interfere when I'm not even bidding? Obviously I'm calling to give them the information."
It was a breach of professional ethics under any ordinary circumstance. But letting an insolent Asian walk away without a lesson was more than he could stomach.
Once he'd identified Prime Group's bidding manager, Ethan called him at once, informed him that the Xeros Group would be participating in the building auction, and shared their expected bid price.
"$7.8 million? They set it that high?"
Robert Johnson, bidding manager at the real estate services firm Prime Group, wore a weary look.
"Understood. Thanks for the information."
The appearance of an unexpected rival was never welcome — least of all when the auction was a rigged one. He contacted the CEO's secretary and reported that a variable had entered the picture.
The summons from the boss came immediately.
"How much were we going to offer?"
"$7.3 million."
"If we raise our ceiling to $8 million, how much does our return drop?"
Robert, who had already run the numbers in increments of a hundred thousand dollars, answered without hesitation.
"Eleven percent."
"Hah. No choice, then. Let's factor that in."
"But whether we can even get the loan..."
"I'll invest the shortfall myself. Just win it. We can't let everything we've put into this go to waste."
"Yes, sir."
Watching Robert's back as he left the office, David Miller clicked his tongue.
The information hasn't already leaked, has it?
A slumping real estate market, rising interest rates, and banks tightening their lending had piled on one after another. Property values in central New York were sinking by the day. For existing owners it was a misfortune. For a rising company like Prime Group, still in the process of building itself up, there was no better opportunity — a golden chance to scoop up quality properties at bargain prices.
But simply buying cheap had never been enough for David. He had joined hands with the major property owners around the building and with other real estate service firms, and together they had set about killing the commercial district. By deliberately refusing to renew the ground-floor retail leases surrounding the Douglas Building, they had blighted the entire block.
Make the building look as though its value had fallen, and the owners enjoyed a tax break while the real estate firms sat on a stockpile of marketable inventory. Two birds with one stone. Temporary, but the effect was immediate.
Of course, if the collusion were ever exposed it would become a considerable headache. But nobody made serious money without taking that kind of risk.
And now, just as they were about to harvest the fruit of all that work, an unexpected competitor had appeared.
"Time to drive out whoever's muddying the waters."
This auction had to be won, no matter what. David called his secretary and informed her that he would be attending the Douglas Building auction in person.
According to Architect Logan, the Douglas Building had been designed from the ground up to squeeze out maximum rental income, which meant its basic building-management systems were of the most ordinary grade.
"Meaning if we intend to use it as a headquarters later, the security systems will have to be installed from scratch?"
"You'll likely have to start with the electrical work."
"That's a problem. I plan to use it as the Xeros Group headquarters in five years at the latest, and for that, security matters more than anything."
I considered for a moment, then gave the instruction.
"Apply a smart-building system with cutting-edge technology. Something that can optimize the building's operations."
"That's going to cost a fair amount."
"I don't care. If we have to reinforce it later, we'll be spending both money and time, won't we?"
"Understood."
If money ran short, you made more money. But time, once it had passed, could never be reclaimed. Raising the building's value was a way of making money in itself. Better to fill every gap at the design stage so that nothing would be inconvenient later.
Ah. I'd almost forgotten the most important thing.
"A sixty-story building with elevators that run at 240 meters a minute? That's absurd. Replace every elevator with an ultra-high-speed unit rated at 1,250 meters a minute, and add eight more."
Logan looked at me as though he couldn't possibly have heard that correctly.
"I'm sorry? There are already twelve elevators. That seems... excessive."
"The Xeros Group is a Korea-based company. Security, internet, transit speed, convenience — all of it. Calibrate everything to Korean standards."
This would be the first building to stand as a symbol of the Xeros Group. I could hardly allow it to fall below the level of a mixed-use high-rise in Seoul. Frankly, I wanted to tear my hair out every time I visited a law firm in this city. However many years ago these things had been built, the idea that a landmark representing New York topped out at 366 meters a minute was ridiculous.
Seeing once was worth more than hearing a hundred times. Experiencing it firsthand would be faster than any explanation I could give.
"Come to Seoul next week. I'll show you a building worth using as a model."
Seoul's Iljin Tower. I might as well take a field trip while I was at it.
Four-thirty in the afternoon. I picked up my sister and arrived at the bank auction hall where the Douglas Building bid was being held.
Inside, well-dressed ladies and gentlemen had gathered in small clusters, waiting for the auction to begin. The entrance of three Asians drew every eye in the room at once — curiosity, puzzlement, and no small amount of wariness.
My sister leaned in and whispered.
"Is the atmosphere at auctions always this cutthroat?"
"Hard to say. Today does seem especially tense."
I glanced at Alex, and he gave a small nod.
"It seems our appearance has made quite a few people uncomfortable."
I took a closer look at the faces around us. They wore the same irritated expressions people get when an uninvited guest walks into a private party. Among them, only one man sat with a leisurely smile on his face — a bald Black man in his mid-fifties, polished and well put together.
So he's the one who set this whole board up.
He glanced at me, then murmured something to an employee. A moment later that employee exchanged a meaningful look with people from several other groups.
Whatever scheme they were cooking up was none of my concern. This board was mine to take. If I hadn't trusted the information the TV had given me, I never would have come this far.
Even my sister, who was ordinarily unshakable, seemed rattled by the heavy atmosphere. Her face had gone stiff.
"Isn't this going to go way higher than you expected?"
"It's fine. If we can't buy this one, we'll just buy another building."
I said it offhandedly, more to put her at ease than anything else.
Four fifty-five. The auctioneer stepped into the hall, and a current of tension ran through the people who had been chatting freely a moment before.
At five o'clock exactly, the auctioneer gave a brief description of the Douglas Building. He was particularly careful to emphasize that this auction was for the surface rights only — that is, bidders were competing for the building's share, not the land beneath it.
I had only learned this myself by participating. In a place like New York, where land prices were astronomical, it was apparently not uncommon for the land and the building to have different owners.
"We will now begin the auction for the Douglas Building. The starting bid is $7.28 million."
Identical to the figure I already knew. Which meant the winning bid would be the same as well.
"The opening bid may be any amount at or above the starting price. Please bid freely."
I raised my paddle at once.
"Yes, bidder number seven?"
The atmosphere in the hall went cold in an instant. After that, not a single person lifted a paddle. The Douglas Building was mine.
I paid the full winning amount in cash, cleanly, and completed the transfer of ownership.
"Congratulations, Mr. Xeros."
"That's thanks to you, Mr. Alex. You've worked hard."
"Hardly. It's my job."
"Shall we get dinner together?"
"Haha. I'd like that."
We were leaving the bank in high spirits when someone stepped into our path. It was the Black man who had sat so at ease in the auction hall, the only one wearing a smile. He offered his congratulations with a bright, people-pleasing grin.
"Congratulations on winning the bid."
Alex, standing beside me, murmured under his breath.
"That's David Miller, CEO of Prime Group — a real estate services firm."
I took a step toward him and held out my hand.
"Kang Minhyuk, Xeros Group. Please feel free to call me Mr. Xeros."
"Very well, Mr. Xeros. You don't seem to be from around here. The accent."
"I'm Korean."
"Ah, that explains it. I thought something was off. Especially the accent. Mr. Xe.ros."
David echoed me, stiffening the r in Xeros into something wooden and over-enunciated. The nuance was plainly meant to put me in my place, but I didn't particularly care. If he ever tried speaking Korean, he'd sound every bit as ridiculous.
"It's a shame, though, I have to say."
"What is?"
"It seems you paid far too much for the building. New York property values aren't what they used to be, you know. Land rent, on the other hand, is still expensive. You didn't make some kind of mistake, did you?"
The implication was that I'd been taken for a ride. Which made me curious. Just how high had this man's ceiling actually been?
"I hope this isn't too forward, but might I ask what maximum bid you had prepared?"
David bared a flash of white teeth and laughed loudly.
"Haha. I would have never gone a dollar over eight million."
He leaned on that word never hard enough to break it. He was probably hoping I'd get angry — that I'd feel like a fool for throwing out such an absurd auction price. Instead, I only felt puzzled.
"That's surprising. According to the information I have, there were at least two other parties prepared to go as high as $8.58 million."
The highest winning bid the TV had given me was $8.59 million. Even if I hadn't participated, that was a number that could only have been reached if at least two firms were competing. And yet David, who had sat in that hall looking more at ease than anyone, had come in considering a ceiling of $8 million?
Someone had stabbed him in the back. I was sure of it.
As if to prove me right, David's eyes flew wide enough to fall out of his head, and he snapped at me as though I'd said something outrageous.
"What? That's completely absurd — that is absolutely—"
He was still denying it when something caught his eye, and he shut his mouth in a hurry. He seemed to have realized something. I followed his gaze and found it resting on a blonde woman standing at a distance, watching our little quarrel with interest.
David's eyes went wide.
Whew. Terrifying. He looks like he might start shooting lasers.
But the other party was no pushover. Even with David glaring at her as though he wanted her dead, she waved and smiled brightly.
I shrugged, as if none of it were any of my business, and took my leave.
"Well, the auction's over anyway. It's not as if it can be reversed. We'll be going, then."
Once we had put a comfortable distance between ourselves and David, Alex asked a question.
"I've been wondering for a while. Where exactly do you get information like that? Your intel seems better than mine, and I live in New York."
"Who knows."
I knew he wasn't asking out of idle curiosity, so I added something.
"It's not from any illegal source, so don't worry."
That said.
How far did she plan to follow us? That queen bee trailing along behind us had been getting on my nerves for a while now.