Meeting Chairman Steven
As it turned out, Young-hoon's question had been pointless all along.
There could be no dissent from Chairman Michael—not after tasting coffee that might as well have been nectar poured down from heaven.
"At a flavor like this, that's not a problem at all. If anything, the company that distributes this coffee will go on to dominate the entire coffee market. But I do have a question for you, Representative Kim."
"By all means, ask."
"You added something to the coffee I drank. Is it harmful to the human body in any way?"
Only then did Young-hoon realize that he had omitted the single most important fact when introducing the magical herb powder.
"Ah, my apologies—I should have explained that first. My answer is that it goes without saying. We've already tested it repeatedly in Korea, and there has been absolutely no issue whatsoever."
"Then there's nothing more to discuss. It will conquer the American market, without question."
"Thank you for the glowing assessment. As I mentioned yesterday, we are looking for a company to distribute our wine and coffee—which emphasize nothing but flavor—throughout the United States. And I am counting on you, Chairman, to introduce us to that company."
"Haha, of course. Then I'd better call my friend right away. Would you care to wait for a moment?"
Chairman Michael summoned his secretary once more and gave the instructions.
"I've called my friend just now, so he should arrive in about thirty minutes. Shall we talk about something else in the meantime?"
"Certainly. As I said yesterday, I run a small entertainment agency back in Korea. It's currently causing quite a stir in the country, so we're looking to expand into the American market."
"Ah, you mentioned Five Girls, didn't you? The ones stirring up a boom with their drama OSTs. We at PBS run radio broadcasts as well, so if we put the songs on air, we'll know the reaction in no time. Did you happen to bring a CD or any videos with you?"
Young-hoon pulled a CD and a USB drive from his bag and handed them to Chairman Michael, who in turn called his secretary over, passed her the CD, and told her to play it.
The secretary first played A Loving Heart.
Like a star shining shyly through parted clouds, a lone white sail drifts across the deep blue sea—
"This is... truly wonderful. I can't understand the lyrics since I don't speak Korean, but the melody wraps itself around your ears—it felt like walking along a sandy beach by the ocean with the person you love."
Lawyer Smith outdid even him, unable to contain his admiration.
"Since I do understand Korean, the impact is even greater for me. The emotions of lovers in love come through exactly as they are. It's beautiful. I believe it will work perfectly well in America too."
"Thank you very much. Shall we listen to the next track, then?"
The secretary's eyes had grown moist, her emotions thoroughly stirred by the melody of A Loving Heart. Only when Young-hoon asked for the next song did she collect herself and play After Farewell.
The sound of rain—I open the window, and faintly comes your voice. How long have I longed for this moment—
Just then, Chairman Michael suddenly began to wipe away tears. Lawyer Smith and the secretary beside him could not hold back the tears streaming down their faces either.
Music truly was a universal language, it seemed. The heart-rending, sorrowful melody had swept their emotions along like a tide.
After Farewell had ranked first among the saddest songs in Korea, so its appeal to American sentiment was bound to land just as powerfully.
Chairman Michael sat motionless for a long while before finally managing to steady himself and speak.
"It's really beautiful. So sad, it makes me think of my late wife."
"I feel exactly the same—the song was simply gorgeous. The heart-slicing sorrow and longing came through with devastating clarity."
The secretary, who had silently wiped her tears away, played the final track, Returned Love, and the reaction was just the same as before.
When the listening session ended, Chairman Michael at last opened his mouth.
"I can't understand Korean, but the melodies were simply wonderful to hear. I'll put these three songs on our radio broadcast immediately and check the response. Once we see how they do, shall we discuss it further?"
"That sounds excellent."
"And you said you're producing a drama as well—could I get a sense of what it's about? Lately our network has been importing and airing Korean dramas. If the story is good, we can import as much as we like."
"I've completed the screenplay for a twenty-episode drama series. Could you review the script first?"
"We have a department at our company that handles Korean broadcasting. If you give me the screenplay, I'll pass it along to them for review and get back to you."
At that point, Lawyer Smith, who had been listening to the exchange between Chairman Michael and Young-hoon, cut in.
"Representative Kim, could I also have a copy of the drama screenplay? My wife has a friend at the NBS network in New York—I'll pass it along and get it reviewed there as well."
"I'd be very grateful if you did."
Delighted, Young-hoon handed a second USB drive to Lawyer Smith as well.
Meanwhile, word arrived that Chairman Michael's acquaintance had reached the building.
The man who entered Chairman Michael's office along with the secretary looked to be in his seventies, yet carried a massive frame that seemed to tip well past 100 kilograms. Chairman Michael introduced him to Young-hoon and his party without delay.
"This is an old friend of mine—we call each other brothers. He's younger than I am, so I treat him like a little brother. He runs a distribution group out of LA these days, and quite a large one at that. He operates some one hundred department stores and over five hundred hypermarkets and distribution companies across the United States—size-wise, he's without question among the top three in the country. And in the western region in particular, this man is number one in market share."
At a glance from Chairman Michael, the man introduced as Steven launched into a self-introduction.
But perhaps he had decided to look down on Young-hoon and his party, because from beginning to end it was nothing but self-praise.
Young-hoon felt his mood sour, yet he kept the conversation going with the best sales smile he could manage. If he lost his temper here, he would only cause trouble for Chairman Michael—and besides, he was certain that once he unveiled his trump cards, the wine and the magical herb powder, Steven's current attitude would turn one hundred and eighty degrees.
"How do you do? I'm Kim Young-hoon, from Korea. I oversee a liquor business as well as businesses in coffee and tea. I've heard from Chairman Michael that you, Chairman Steven, own the largest distribution company in the United States. That's why I requested this meeting—we hope to distribute the liquors, coffee, and tea that we produce throughout America."
Chairman Steven had come sprinting in a panic, half convinced that some catastrophe had struck, after Chairman Michael told him not to say a word and to get to his office as fast as humanly possible.
Yet Chairman Michael looked far brighter than he had yesterday, and his voice—normally so depleted that he groaned and wheezed through every sentence—was as robust as a man in his forties or fifties.
Steven met clients endlessly, squeezing the hours out of every day as though wringing water from a stone. He was so busy he kept a dedicated secretary just to manage his schedule. So when he heard that the youngest-looking member of this group had abruptly demanded a meeting with him because he wanted to sell liquor, coffee, and tea in America, part of him found it absurd. If it hadn't been for Chairman Michael, whom he regarded as an elder brother, he would have kicked his chair back and walked out on the spot.
And yet here was Chairman Michael, treating these people with the utmost courtesy, as though they were benefactors who had saved his very life.
Steven resolved to figure out exactly what kind of situation this was first.
"I was in the middle of a meeting with a buyer when I received a sudden summons and rushed over, so forgive me for being caught off guard. Please explain in detail why you wished to meet with me, Representative Kim."
"Ah, I had no idea—I've been talking only about myself. My apologies. Allow me to explain again. Though perhaps it would be faster to show you the product first and talk afterward."
Young-hoon asked Chairman Michael for a wineglass. Chairman Michael, clearly catching on, instructed his secretary to bring an empty one.
A moment later, Young-hoon drew a bottle of wine from his bag and poured out a mere sliver of it.
Chairman Steven, who had been watching Young-hoon's every move closely, suddenly grew irritated.
He had recognized the wine in Young-hoon's hand.
A mid-to-low-priced wine produced in America and sold around the world—that was exactly what Young-hoon had produced. Naturally, it was a wine that sat on the shelves of Steven's own discount stores at that very moment.
What grated on him even more was the sheer stinginess of it—what could possibly be so precious about it that he'd poured barely an ant's sip.
In that instant, Chairman Michael noticed the subtle shift in Steven's expression. Fearing the fool might ruin everything through sheer carelessness, he gave Steven a warning.
"Chairman Steven, drink what Representative Kim pours you without a word. After that, you can leave this room and I won't say a thing."
Chairman Steven did as Chairman Michael told him, drank the wine Young-hoon had poured, and made as if to rise from his seat. He figured that much was the least he could do to preserve Chairman Michael's dignity.
Intending only to check the flavor, he let the wine barely touch his lips.
But the moment it met his tongue, he could not stop his hand.
Before he knew it, he had lifted the glass and drained it in one swallow. The quantity had been so small that regret came crashing over him like a tidal wave.
It was a taste he had never once experienced in his life. Like Chairman Michael, he had loved wine since his youth. His wine cellar was built to rival Michael's own, and he had bought up thousands of bottles of the world's most famous vintages.
Yet even he had, without question, never tasted a wine that clung to the palate like this. Only now did he understand Chairman Michael's insistence that he at least try it.
"Th-this is... I can't believe this... That label is unmistakably a wine produced here in California... but it never tasted like this—what I know and what I just drank are worlds apart. Did you do something to this wine?"
Before anyone had noticed, Chairman Steven's entire tone of voice had changed.
Young-hoon judged that Steven was already halfway hooked into his rhythm, and resolved to press the advantage hard.
"You're quite right, Chairman Steven. We did blend something into this wine. It isn't purely our own original creation, but we stand behind its effects. Chairman Michael drank this wine last night as well. And as for its effects, he is the one person who can vouch for them most definitively—please hear it directly from him."
Handed the ball, Chairman Michael slowly and blissfully began to explain the wine's properties. Having listened to the whole account, Chairman Steven's astonishment was plain on his face.
"As Chairman Michael mentioned, this wine is produced only in vanishingly small quantities each year, so we cannot supply it to department stores and the like. We intend to sell it exclusively to VVIPs around the world. We are, however, developing a liquor that lacks the remarkable effects you've just heard about but preserves the taste. If you were able to purchase that product, Chairman Steven, what price range would be acceptable to you?"
"Hmm. Even if the effects are diminished, as long as the taste holds... two or three thousand dollars a bottle would be no problem at all."
"And what if we supplied it at a quarter of that price?"
In that instant, Chairman Steven's eyes gleamed sharply.
If what Young-hoon said was true, this was unquestionably a jackpot—an ultra-super-jackpot item. This was the moment to make his play. Hesitate even for a breath, and the opportunity would fly away. So without a moment's deliberation, he declared that he would import and sell it, no conditions attached.
Pleased with the response, Young-hoon gave no firm answer and smoothly steered the conversation elsewhere.
This time it was the coffee and tea. As before, he mixed in the magical herb powder and handed it over, and after tasting it, Chairman Steven demanded that he be granted exclusive rights, no negotiations about it. The arrogant manner from earlier had vanished without a trace.
Once again, Young-hoon offered no commitment—only agreeable, noncommittal replies.
To Chairman Steven, meeting Young-hoon today was nothing short of a godsend. If the liquors and beverages Young-hoon produced fell into the hands of his competitors, he would surely suffer catastrophic damage. And if he played this opportunity well, he had a real shot at rising to the number-one market share in all of America.
Unfortunately, though, Young-hoon hadn't promised him nationwide distribution rights. He kept emphasizing the western region only.
Steven's one hope was that the rights would be withheld from everyone except him—above all, from Richard of New York, his longtime rival.
Once the business discussion had wound down, a sudden curiosity welled up about the wine he had just tasted. The astonishing transformation of Chairman Michael, who had been groaning and ailing for months, was remarkable enough—but what truly captured Steven's interest was the claim about how dramatically his performance in the bedroom would extend.
Granted, Steven was managing to get by in his night life with the help of Viagra—but his personal physician would only prescribe about one pill every ten days. In other words, he could only have his fun three times a month.
Yet according to Chairman Michael, a single glass of this wine was enough to enjoy such pleasures for a full week.
The moment he heard that, he wanted to buy a whole bottle for himself. The promise of a rejuvenated physical age made his appetite all the more fierce.
And at the same time, he finally understood why Young-hoon had poured him barely an ant's sip of the stuff.
Still, one could never be too sure—it wouldn't hurt to at least float the question.