Chapter 52 I Visited Sterling Selection Headquarters
The Precision Inspection Area in the basement of Sterling Selection’s headquarters was as quiet as ever.
Beneath white LED lights bright enough to sting the eyes, an Interlagos Blue BMW E60 M5 stood on the inspection line.
The center of the inspection-line floor had been dug into a deep pit so inspectors could quickly and easily examine a vehicle’s underside without using a lift.
Douglas climbed the steps out of the pit, a faint crease between his brows.
Douglas had worked there for more than thirty years. He was Sterling Selection’s chief inspector, known as the company’s “eyes.”
“Doug, what’s with that expression? Don’t tell me it’s bad.”
Hailey asked from where she stood leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
She had specifically requested Douglas and asked him to inspect this car in detail.
“No, that’s not it…”
Douglas trailed off as he opened the hood and illuminated every corner of the engine bay with a work light.
Without another word, he climbed back into the driver’s seat.
Whirrr—vroom!
He started the car. With a tremendous roar, the beast carrying the V10 engine awoke from its slumber.
Rumble, roar! Rrrrrrumble!
Douglas tapped the accelerator, then held it down longer, carefully observing every sound and vibration from the vehicle, along with even the slightest movement of the RPM gauge.
When he finally released the accelerator again, the needle settled steadily at 550 RPM without so much as a tremor.
It was proof that all ten cylinders were synchronized without the slightest discrepancy.
Douglas climbed out and slowly shook his head.
Unable to endure the suspense, Hailey asked again.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Wasn’t this originally graded B-1?”
Classic cars and modern classics were far more difficult to appraise than ordinary used vehicles.
Sterling Selection had created a trust-based system by thoroughly inspecting even the areas customers could not easily assess, grading them, and providing those results.
In other words, Sterling Selection’s grades were absolute.
Moreover, Douglas himself had inspected and graded this vehicle at Hailey’s request.
“Yes. The exterior was fine, but it had severe engine trouble. You judged that it would be extremely difficult to repair.”
“Exactly. It had the body of a muscular lion, but its heart was diseased, so it could not run. And yet…”
Douglas listened to the engine once more.
Its steady rhythm flowed like water.
“It sounds as though someone implanted a new heart. No, the engine feels smoother than one that has just left the factory in Germany. Do you know how temperamental this S85 engine is?”
It did not seem as though he expected an answer, so Hailey merely shook her head slightly.
“This thing will reveal the slightest mistake during disassembly, inspection, or reassembly. Even a deviation of 0.04 inches—about one millimeter—or a single degree will immediately show itself. But this… Whew… It’s simply silk. Pure silk.”
Silky Six.
It was a nickname generally used for BMW’s smooth inline-six engines.
Yet Douglas was now feeling an even greater silkiness from this notoriously difficult V10.
“You’re praising it that highly, Doug?”
Hailey’s eyes sparkled.
She knew better than anyone how strict Douglas normally was when evaluating vehicles.
“Good grief… Who worked on this engine? Did you recruit a master technician from BMW headquarters? Not only are all the clearances perfectly uniform, but it feels as though not a single bolt or washer was tightened even one newton-meter outside the specified torque. In a word, it’s perfect.”
Douglas, normally a rather taciturn man, spoke with such enthusiasm that he nearly sprayed saliva.
The longer he talked, the brighter Hailey’s expression became.
“Then what grade would you give this car, by your standards?”
Without hesitation, Douglas entered a value into the inspection pad.
Beep.
At the same time, the inspection result appeared on Hailey’s tablet.
└ [A7]
“A7? Seriously? That’s almost the highest grade.”
Sterling Selection’s grading system was divided in considerable detail through combinations of letters and numbers.
The highest possible score was A9.
In practical terms, however, such a grade could not exist.
It was equivalent to a vehicle that had just rolled out of the factory.
In reality, anything above A6 was already considered a flawless vehicle that could be purchased without concern.
A7 indicated a vehicle that had been perfectly restored.
A8 indicated a vehicle that had been perfectly preserved.
“There is nothing in particular to criticize. I have no better way to describe it. Then I’ll be going. There are many vehicles waiting…”
As Douglas moved to another inspection line, Hailey immediately took out her phone and called the publicity team.
“It’s me, Hailey. That car I mentioned last time received an A7. Hehe, yes, better than you expected, right? So I’ll need you to put even more effort into it.”
Hailey struggled to suppress the corners of her mouth, but they kept rising as she spoke into the phone.
As autumn arrived, Arizona’s heat finally began to subside.
Then again, perhaps shaded Scottsdale merely felt cooler because the area had more buildings than usual.
I stood looking up at the five-story building towering before me.
{Sterling Selection}
Did I really need to come personally?
Today was the auction for the E60 M5 I had restored.
Sterling Selection had arranged for transport drivers to pick up and deliver the restored vehicle, which had been extremely convenient.
However, Hailey had strongly insisted that I attend the auction in person, leaving me no choice but to come to Scottsdale.
Scottsdale was a small city east of Phoenix and home to one of the wealthiest commercial districts in Arizona.
There certainly are a lot of impressive buildings here.
Among them, Sterling Selection’s Arizona headquarters had relatively few stories in keeping with the local architectural style, but its stately exterior reminded me of an old European bank.
The pale sand-beige stone walls looked luxurious, while an intricately carved Sterling Selection “SS” logo was set above the massive wooden arched entrance.
It was a traditionally styled building befitting the reputation of one of America’s three largest classic-car auction companies.
After passing the doorman who opened the entrance for me, I stepped into a wide-open space resembling a hotel lobby.
The marble floor had been polished so smoothly that it could reflect a face, while an enormous chandelier scattered light across the ceiling.
What drew my attention most of all, however, was the 1954 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing displayed in the center of the lobby.
(Translator’s Note: Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Gullwing — A German sports car introduced in New York on February 6, 1954, and produced as a gullwing-door coupé from 1954 to 1957. Its roof-hinged doors were necessitated by the high side structure of its lightweight tubular space frame.)
Gullwing.
True to its name, the 300SL stood with its doors spread wide like the wings of a seagull. Its mere presence instantly transformed the otherwise dull space into a gallery.
With a design like this, it isn’t treated as merely a car, but as a work of art.
While I stood mesmerized by its beautiful body and interior, someone suddenly addressed me.
“Sir? May I ask what brings you here?”
A large security guard stood before me in a sharply pressed navy uniform.
His tone was exceedingly polite, but he could not conceal the suspicion in his eyes as he looked me up and down.
It was understandable.
Looking around, everyone except me was dressed in either a suit or expensive business-casual attire.
“I’m here for a meeting.”
“Ah, I see. But are you perhaps confusing this with another building?”
The man smiled gently.
“This is Sterling Selection headquarters, isn’t it? I’m here to meet Hailey.”
There was a separate entrance for auction participants, but Hailey had specifically told me to come to her office first.
“It’s almost one o’clock… A meeting with Director Hailey Sterling… Wait, are you Mr. Jason Kwon?”
“Yes, I am.”
“My apologies for not recognizing you. I’ll bring you a guest pass immediately.”
The security guard hurried toward the reception desk.
“Jason?”
At that moment, a bright voice cut through the heavy atmosphere of the lobby from the direction of the employee elevator.
It was Hailey.
“It’s almost one. What are you doing over there?”
Her heels clicked briskly as she strode toward me.
“Sorry. The car on display was so impressive that I got distracted.”
“What? Honestly. Of course the car enthusiast gets distracted by a car. Stop staring and hurry up.”
I naturally accepted the access card from the flustered security guard beside me.
“Thank you.”
“Ah, yes!”
“You have your pass, so hurry up!”
The female receptionist and the security guard stared blankly as Hailey excitedly grabbed my arm and dragged me away, but she did not appear to care at all.
Beep.
Hailey tapped her access card against the elevator reader, pressed the button marked [4], then glanced sideways at my face.
“Hehe. So, what do you think of our company building?”
The cool expression she had worn in the lobby had vanished completely.
The corners of her lips twitched like an elementary school student desperate to show off.
“It’s bigger than I expected.”
“…Huh? That’s all?”
“Hmm. The car in the lobby was impressive.”
“…”
She sighed.
“Fine, forget it. Anyway, aren’t you excited about today’s auction?”
“I’m not sure. It’s my first time selling something at auction. But doesn’t the auction start at two?”
“Yeah, it does. That’s why I need to get you ready beforehand.”
“What?”
Ding.
At that moment, the elevator stopped on the fourth floor, and the doors slid open.
“See you later!”
“Wait…”
The instant the doors opened, Hailey strode off and disappeared somewhere.
“Hello, Mr. Jason Kwon. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please come this way.”
A different young woman who had been waiting outside the elevator greeted me with a formal line and an artificial smile.
“Ah… Yes. Hello.”
Without giving me a chance to ask any questions, she turned sharply and began walking ahead.
Click, click.
She kept glancing back at me as we walked down the corridor. After leading me into what appeared to be a meeting room, she abruptly asked,
“You wear a size 42 large jacket, a sixteen-and-a-half-inch collar with thirty-five-inch sleeves, and approximately 34-by-34 trousers, correct?”
“What? No, I’m not sure. I normally wear things loose.”
I normally wear things loose.
It was a terrible answer.
I had not been prepared for her sudden question, but I also genuinely did not know my clothing sizes.
“L-loose…? Then what is your shoe size?”
The woman asked again, looking slightly flustered.
“I wear a US ten and a half.”
Fortunately, I remembered my shoe size because I frequently bought work boots.
“All right. Please wait a moment.”
The woman scribbled something on her notepad, then quickly left the meeting room.
A short while later, she returned with both hands full of a suit, shirt, tie, and dress shoes.
She held the suit jacket against my upper body, then raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Hmm. I believe this size should fit. Please change into all of these. Don’t forget to change your socks as well.”
“What? What is all this?”
“My apologies. The suit is made of Super 130s wool, the shirt uses a poplin weave, and the shoes are cordovan—horse-rump leather…”
(Translator’s Note: Super 130s Wool — A classification used for fine wool suiting. The number refers to the fineness of the wool fiber under industry grading systems; it does not by itself guarantee the durability or overall quality of the completed fabric.)
(Translator’s Note:Poplin — A tightly woven fabric with a fine ribbed texture, traditionally produced from silk or wool but now commonly made from cotton or blended fibers. Its smooth, crisp surface makes it widely used for dress shirts.)
(Translator’s Note:Cordovan — A dense, nonporous leather made from the fibrous shell beneath a horse’s rump hide. Shell cordovan is associated with high-end shoes and is valued for its durability, smooth finish, and tendency to form broad ripples rather than fine creases.)
“No. I mean, why are all these things here?”
In response to my question, she suddenly began listing fabric names, weaving methods, and shoe-leather materials that sounded like an alien language.
It meant nothing to me even after hearing it.
“Ah…! Director Hailey prepared them in advance. We have several sizes available, so please let me know if anything does not fit.”
The woman closed the door and left the room immediately after answering.
“Ha… What in the world is she planning to do with me?”
I frowned slightly at my reflection in the full-length mirror standing in one corner of the room.
Soon, however, I removed my old jeans and shirt and began changing into the suit.
Perhaps because of my experience as a Navy SEAL, I had always been quick to accept whatever the situation required.
Considering the profit I stood to make from the auction, I could tolerate something like this.
Still, every piece of this looks extremely expensive.
I knew nothing about fabrics, but the subtle sheen flowing across the surface did not seem ordinary.
The stitching was flawless, and more than anything, the way the fabric settled against my body felt completely different from anything I had worn before.
Knock, knock.
“May I come in?”
“Yes.”
Several minutes later, the woman entered the meeting room again.
The instant she saw me dressed in the suit, her eyes widened slightly.
“Oh my! Ah… Excuse me. Ahem. How does the size feel?”
“Hmm… The length seems right, but the thickness—or maybe the fit? It feels tight in several places.”
At my response, her professional gaze returned as she examined the shoulder line, hips, and upper arms.
“No, it fits you perfectly. This is how a properly fitted suit should look on you. Ah, I’ll retie the tie for you.”
Standing directly in front of me, she skillfully folded the silk tie that had been hanging loosely around my neck and shaped it into a bow.
Her technique was remarkable even when seen from inches away.
However, unlike before, I had the strange feeling that she was avoiding my eyes.
Once everything, including the bow tie, was complete, she immediately made a phone call.
“Yes, he’s fully prepared. Shall I escort him directly to the event hall? Yes. Yes, understood.”
Meanwhile, I examined my reflection in the mirror.
My thighs and arms still look too tight no matter how I see it.
A navy suit and white shirt.
Black dress shoes and a black bow tie.
Honestly, I felt unbearably awkward.
It was also tremendously uncomfortable.
It was enough to make me respect the movie spies who fought while wearing suits.
“All right, let’s proceed to the auction hall. Hehe.”
After ending the call, the woman looked at me once more and opened the meeting-room door.
She wore a distinctly different smile from the one she had shown when we first met outside the elevator.
[1954 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing]