Introducing a Quality Product
"...Ugh."
It was a truly god-awful dream.
To think I was cooking rice cake soup with Al Capone—no, my father-in-law—only to suddenly shove the rice cakes into a Tommy gun and start spraying bullets. It must be because the Lunar New Year is coming up, but even so, having rice cakes fly out of a gun is just wrong.
With that thought, I lifted my heavy, still-closed eyelids.
Soon, the ceiling, adorned with familiar decorations and lighting, came into view. It was none other than the ceiling of a room at the Lexington Hotel.
It wasn't the top-floor suite where my father-in-law stayed, but after staring for a moment at the rather ornate ceiling, I sat up and looked to my side.
"Mmm..."
There, Rita was fast asleep, wrapped in the blankets.
"...Ahem, ahem."
As soon as I saw her, I cleared my throat, the events of last night coming to mind for no reason.
How did things end up like this?
Things I couldn't have even imagined just a few days ago were happening one after another. The most absurd part was, of course, being reincarnated with my memories intact after dying, but the events of the last few days were, without exaggeration, the most spectacular of my entire past and present life. Though, I did have to stake my second life for it.
That was when it happened.
"Mmm... Good morning, honey."
Did she wake up because of my throat-clearing? Rita opened her eyes and sat up to greet me. The problem was that in the process of sitting up, the blanket that had been covering her slipped away. Soon, Rita's long, blonde-haired figure was laid bare before my eyes.
"*Cough*."
...At this point, isn't it worth risking my life?
"What's wrong?"
"Just... nothing."
"You're such a tease."
I waved my hand at her as she looked at me with a strange expression, then sat up and put on the clothes I’d taken off yesterday. After roughly pulling on my shirt and pants, I sat at the table where the room service breakfast was laid out. Rita, who had already dressed and sat across from me, took a sip of coffee and opened her mouth.
"So, how are you going to handle the business?"
"For now, I have to wait until the Boss says something. I can't just start things on my own, can I?"
Starting with that, I briefly summarized the plan I had roughly put together.
"Money Laundering, that's an interesting expression."
"No matter how dirty the laundry is, it becomes clean after washing. Money is the same."
My knowledge of money laundering was only what I’d picked up from news or YouTube, but in this era, the technique of handling black money wasn't developed enough for the term itself to even exist. If I used a few methods I’d heard about in my past life, I could easily bypass the loose accounting audits of this era. I’d have to leave the detailed techniques to the accountants and lawyers connected to the Chicago Outfit, but if I just explained the concepts, they’d be able to understand and execute them well enough. Of course, my plan didn't just end with money laundering.
"Oh, right."
That was when Rita clapped her hands as if she’d just remembered something. She immediately pulled two small boxes from her bag and placed them on the table.
"Guess what this is?"
"Uh..."
What is it? Seriously, what is it?
I was so flustered by her sudden question that I stammered.
"Wrong."
Click!
When I couldn't answer and hesitated, Rita shook her index finger and opened the two boxes.
Flash-!
At the same time, something glittered inside the opened boxes. I knew what it was the moment I saw it.
"...A ring?"
A ring decorated with one large diamond and several small ones, and next to it, a ring with a single small diamond embedded in it. At the flashy sight of the rings, which clearly didn't cost just a penny or two, I gulped without realizing it. Her intention in taking these rings out was far too transparent.
"I ordered them in advance because I thought it would come to this. So, what are you going to do now?"
"...Ahaha."
I let out a hollow laugh at Rita’s words as she made a meaningful expression after finishing her sentence.
After semi-forcibly proposing to Rita, I headed home with her.
"I'm home."
As I opened the door to the laundry shop on the first floor and breathed in the familiar scent of detergent, the first thing I noticed was my father reading a newspaper over a mountain of shirts.
"You rascal, if you stay out overnight again... huh?"
My father, who had been about to raise his voice upon hearing my greeting, stopped and widened his eyes. The reason was, of course, Rita, who had followed me inside.
"This is Rita."
"Hello!"
"Oh, oh... Hello, young lady."
At the sight of Rita greeting him in a bright voice as soon as she was introduced, my father replied in broken English and then demanded an explanation from me with an intense gaze.
"She's the daughter-in-law I told you about before."
"Before, you mean..."
"Her full name is Rita Capone."
"...*Cough*! *Cough*!"
The moment the name Capone left my lips, my father began to cough repeatedly as if he’d choked on something.
"...Are you okay?"
"*Cough*, *cough*. How could I be okay, you rascal? Do you even know what kind of trouble you've caused..."
"Honey?"
"...We'll talk about that later, Father."
As Rita, who couldn't understand the conversation my father and I were having in Korean, tilted her head with a question mark, I finished my talk with my father and smiled at Rita.
"He says he likes you very much."
"Really?"
"Y-y-yes. I was worried because our Jun was shy, but this is such a relief. Hahaha!"
I think I’ve been a bit of an unfilial son. Seeing my father laugh awkwardly, unable to tell the daughter of Al Capone "no," I felt a bit sorry. But what could I do? It had already happened. If the water was already spilled, I might as well soak a rag in it.
"Father, and..."
And if I’ve soaked the rag, I should at least wipe the table.
"I've started a business."
"A business?"
"I'm getting help from my father-in-law."
"Ah, ah."
My father, who understood what I meant at once, nodded like a broken robot, but I pretended not to notice and continued.
"So, I need a little help from you."
"H-help? What kind of help?"
"Could you introduce me to the elders who run other laundry shops?"
"Laundry shops? Why?"
To my father’s question, which was filled with both lingering terror and confusion, I smiled sheepishly and answered briefly.
"I’m going to introduce them to a good product."
Two weeks passed. There were no major incidents, but there were quite a few minor ones. Our great father-in-law, Al Capone, sent people to our house to force small trinkets upon us, or I enjoyed dates with Rita while wandering around Chicago.
And.
"It's bigger than I thought."
Today, two weeks later, I marveled as I looked at an old warehouse in Cicero, a city near Chicago. Above the entrance of the old warehouse hung a sign that read:
Standard Chemical Company
If translated directly into Korean, it would be something like "Standard Chemical Company." "Standard," a word that was trendy for company names in this era, was a name you’d see at least once anywhere in the U.S. It was a name chosen on purpose to avoid standing out, so it was only natural.
"The Boss put some effort into it."
A dry-looking middle-aged man replied in a dry voice to my exclamation. It was Frank Nitti, the second-in-command of the Chicago Outfit.
"So, you’d better work properly. If you cause any loss to the organization, I won't let it slide."
Um, it feels like something is coming out of your eyes. Is this what they call "killing intent"?
"Haha, of course."
I smiled while breaking into a cold sweat at Nitti, who was glaring at me as if he were about to pull out a gun at any moment.
"Don't scare him, mister."
That was when Rita, who had come with us, hugged me and glared at Nitti.
"Our honey will do just fine without you telling him, won't he?"
"Oh? Oh. Well, I have to work hard."
"...I’ll be watching. Now, let’s go in."
At Rita’s words, Nitti nodded and guided us into the factory.
"The distillation facilities are all set up. As you said, I had the mechanics install thermometers and condensers, and they're removing the wood alcohol according to the temperature."
"Honestly, I didn't know the factory would be running already."
"We’re just bringing in what was already there, so it wasn't a difficult task."
I let Nitti’s answer slide and inspected the inside of the factory. The distillation equipment, which looked a bit clumsy as if it had been thrown together, was moving while making unstable noises, and people who I couldn't tell were laborers or organization members were moving busily underneath it.
"Then, where is the removed wood alcohol?"
"As you said, I instructed them to store it separately. It’s this way."
With those words, Nitti guided us to a corner of the factory. There, several drums and glass bottles containing a transparent liquid were gathered in one place.
"These are things that would have normally been thrown away as waste. So, what are you going to do with this?"
As Nitti finished speaking and looked at me with suspicious eyes, I smirked and continued.
"More importantly, what about what I asked for?"
"It’s prepared over there."
Following Nitti’s finger pointing to one side, I saw the things I had requested gathered there: chemicals including glycerin and acetic acid, soaps to act as surfactants, and various tools.
"Everything is here."
Confirming that everything was ready, I nodded and looked at Rita and Nitti. Now, it was time to explain my plan.
"Now, with this, I’m going to make SCC’s first product."
At the same time, it was time to fasten the first button of my plan.