Managing Director Kim Byung-hwan (2)
"My goodness, what precious medicinal tonic you've given me. I was just thinking that my energy has been flagging lately, considering whether to see an herbalist for a booster — and thanks to you, President Jung, I'll be rebuilding my health properly. Thank you for the wonderful meal."
President Jung had prepared the money bundle because Deputy Hong had demanded a hundred million won, but he hadn't been without his worries. What if Managing Director Kim turned it down? Rejecting it awkwardly risked souring the whole atmosphere for nothing.
But watching the man happily accept the bundle of cash put President Jung's mind at ease. Life was give and take, after all — and thinking of the favors that would come flowing back to him later, he found himself in a good mood without even trying.
Now only the final course remained: the room salon. He had booked a bar in Gangnam that, while it might not be one of Teheran-ro's top ten establishments, was certainly good enough to rank among the next tier — and he had no doubt whatsoever that his guests would be satisfied.
"Managing Director Kim, dinner's just about wrapped up, so let's go have a casual drink. I've reserved a place I frequent."
Kim had already heard from Deputy General Manager Cho that a room salon had been booked, but he pretended to hear it for the first time.
"Oh, is that so? President Jung, it seems you've prepared for me quite thoroughly."
"Of course. When I'm meeting the true power broker of LK Electronics' marketing division, how could I prepare carelessly? If you were displeased with me, business would get difficult for me down the road."
"Hahaha, you flatter me far too much. With business acumen like yours, President Jung, you'll be rich in no time. Though from the look of it, you may already be."
"Oh please, I'm a long way from rich. I'll be counting on your generous guidance in the days ahead."
"Managing Director Kim, shall we send the driver waiting outside home? We'll travel to the drinks together in President Jung's car, and after the party winds down, I'll see you home myself."
"No, no need for that, Deputy General Manager Cho. You there — Deputy Hong, was it? Go send the driver waiting outside home. We'll be moving in ten minutes."
"Yes, sir! Right away, Managing Director Kim!"
Deputy Hong couldn't stand the way Kim threw his weight around, but he knew perfectly well that he had to obey the man's orders for now. He sent the driver off and stepped outside for a smoke — just as Kim and his party emerged from the restaurant. He hastily stubbed out his cigarette and hurried over, bowing his head.
The room salon on Teheran-ro in Gangnam was, in a word, spectacular. The lavish interior went without saying; the atmosphere and sheer scale were on another level entirely. Kim had visited nearly every famous room salon in Seoul, but this place was of a different order altogether.
The moment Madam Jung spotted President Jung, she came gliding over as if to fold him into her arms.
"Madam Jung, is the room I reserved ready? These are very precious guests — nothing but the absolute best will do. You understand me?"
"But of course. Don't you worry. Lucky Room 7 has been cleaned out and kept empty just for you. Right this way, please."
The room Madam Jung led them to was about one and a half times the size of the others. Having caught on that Kim was the guest of honor tonight, she guided him to the seat of honor right in the center.
"Madam Jung, we're running the full course tonight, so get everything ready in advance."
"Oh my, naturally. How many years have I been serving you, President Jung? I'll have it all prepared, so rest easy. What shall we bring for drinks?"
"Hold on. That's a question for our guest of honor. Managing Director Kim, what would you like to drink?"
"Well now, President Jung, you go ahead and order whatever you like."
"Then I'll order something I'm sure will please you. Madam Jung, you have the Royal Salute, 38-year, don't you? Bring that out, and prepare the premium platters for food. We've just come from dinner, so nothing too heavy. Understood?"
"Hohoho, we'll take exquisite care of you. Just a moment — I'll bring the ladies in first."
Kim enjoyed his liquor even in ordinary times, but wallowing decadently in a room salon like this was another great pleasure of his. And tonight they were ordering the 38-year — a bottle so expensive he'd only tasted it a handful of times himself. If they were serving liquor at this price, how beautiful would the girls be? His expectations were truly beginning to build.
A little while later, the women who entered the room were one and all gorgeous enough to outshine actual celebrities. The one Madam Jung had seated beside Kim in particular bore a striking resemblance to a red-hot actress of the moment, which put him in an even better mood. He found himself half wondering if it might actually be her.
Just thinking about spending the night with such a beauty made his lower half stir and stiffen with excitement before the evening had even begun. Tonight, he thought, would nourish him far better than any herbal tonic(?) from that Japanese restaurant. He could hardly wait.
Deputy General Manager Cho was stunned by President Jung's mastery of the art of entertaining. A Royal Salute 38-year that most people never laid eyes on, and the beauty of the women streaming into the room was anything but ordinary. A spread like this would easily blow past ten million won.
And at the same time, a sliver of fear toward President Jung took root in a corner of his heart. Such was the way of the world: for everything you received, you had to give something back. Having accepted a gift this extravagant, he couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd have to hand over next.
But he had already crossed the bridge of no return. If trouble arose, Kim — a survivor of every kind of battle, from land wars to air raids — would somehow wriggle free, and Deputy Hong was Royal Family besides; even if he got singed, he wouldn't take any real damage. The only person guaranteed to get hurt was Cho himself. He resolved that his dealings with President Jung would end with this one and only occasion.
Deputy Hong, for his part, was lukewarm about everything. Dinner had been far inferior in taste and quality to the meals he shared with the elders of his household, and the room salon was no different. The liquor was far cheaper than what he drank regularly with his friends, and the girls' looks didn't measure up to the women at the clubs he frequented. Besides, these girls sold their smiles to any man who walked in, which killed any appetite for drinking. Once the party broke up, he fully intended to call up his friends and hit the clubs instead.
The drinking session in the room salon rolled along in a sodden haze, but apart from Kim, the other three men — each nursing his own hidden agenda — were not exactly having fun.
When it came time to call it a night, President Jung pressed a hotel room key into Kim's hand, produced from who knew where. Kim then loaded his chosen companion into the luxury sedan the salon had arranged and headed off to the hotel.
Once Kim was gone, Cho vanished with his own companion to a nearby motel, while Deputy Hong, with a word of excuse to President Jung, sent his back home.
Ten o'clock at night was still early evening as far as Deputy Hong was concerned. It was an awkward hour to go home, so he called up his usual crowd to a club in Gangnam that was said to have a good "flow." Birds of a feather, as they say — most of his friends were third- and fourth-generation chaebol heirs, idle playboys with nothing to their names but time and money. He charmed an eye-catching girl at the club and spent the whole night with her at a hotel, and when he opened his eyes it was already past nine in the morning. He decided to plead illness to Deputy General Manager Cho and write off the entire day.
Tuesday morning.
Once again, the first to arrive at the office was Young-hoon. He reviewed his work notebook for the day's tasks, but there was nothing special on the company front. It was the matters outside the company that carried real weight.
In the morning, President Lee Jae-man would register the digital single, and once that cleared, file the copyright application. Music registration could hardly be approved in a single day, so the copyright filing likely wouldn't happen today.
In the afternoon came the OST licensing contract with Sinabro Production. There was no need for Young-hoon to attend in person, but for Girin Entertainment, it would be a tremendously important agreement.
While Young-hoon was surveying the day's work, employees trickled into the office one by one. It was nearly nine o'clock before a thoroughly exhausted-looking Deputy General Manager Cho showed up, and Deputy Hong still hadn't arrived. Since the man was chronically late anyway, no one thought much of it — until Cho pulled Manager Kim aside and told him that Deputy Hong had called in a field work day.
As Young-hoon saw it, Deputy Hong was late five or six times a month and skipped work three or four. In other words, nearly half of every month was spent late or absent. And yet the man had never once been chewed out — which meant, Young-hoon figured, one of two things: either Cho had some dirt held over him, or he was a golden spoon so untouchable that no one dared lay a finger on him.
Cho gave Manager Kim a few cursory instructions, then left on a "business appointment" — clearly, the previous night had gotten the better of him. No doubt he'd head off to some sauna and lie sprawled out all morning.
The moment the resident nag vanished, the office suddenly came alive.
Assistant Manager Hwang from Marketing Team 2 — one of Young-hoon's peers from the same hiring class — tossed a remark his way as he strolled past.
"Your Team 3 is honestly a mystery to me. The team leader disappears the moment ten o'clock rolls around, and that lunatic Deputy Hong is late or absent half the month — yet somehow you never lose the top sales ranking. What a bizarre team, all around."
Assistant Manager Park, who'd been listening nearby, cut in.
"You want to know the secret to our team holding the number one spot? Simple — you've got your secret weapon right here. Take me out of the picture and we'd be dead last."
Hwang slapped Park on the back with a loud laugh and moved on.
Honestly, even Young-hoon found this month strange. October was, in a sense, the most important month of the year, and its final week above all demanded razor-sharp focus. Yet the team leader was blowing off work from the morning onward, and Deputy Hong hadn't even shown his face. The ironic part was that with the two of them gone, the office atmosphere had actually improved.
Young-hoon had nothing pressing on his plate either, so he closed out his morning making round after round of phone calls urging the dealership owners to place their purchase orders.
For lunch, all of Team 3 (minus the team leader and Deputy Hong) decided to eat out together for the first time in a while. There was a famous banquet-noodle house out at Haengju Fortress — great food, cheap prices, and a line snaking out the door every lunch hour. With the two resident troublemakers absent, the team headed out a little early, thanks to Manager Kim showing some flexibility. They arrived just before the rush and managed to claim seats.
Chewy, springy noodles and a broth bursting with savory depth — it was heaven on earth. They slurped down the noodles in a frenzy, and before anyone noticed, the bowls were scraped clean. Young-hoon debated ordering another bowl and, in the end, did. The afternoon food coma was guaranteed.
And sure enough — back at the office, the moment he sat down in his chair, his eyelids began to droop. He was struggling to keep his senses about him when, as luck would have it, a call came in from President Lee Jae-man.