A Frame Made for One
I'll be getting a lot of mileage out of this one.
Some alloy recipes became regulars in his rotation; others were one-and-done. This one, though, had a distinctly promising feel.
"This kind of lightness is definitely a major advantage."
If it were purely a matter of hardness, he could have made something far more rigid than this. But achieving this level of strength at such a light weight was no easy feat.
I should pull this out whenever I make something where lightness comes first.
He named the new alloy KANG 3 and set to work turning it into a pair of eyeglass frames.
The alloy itself took care of the weight. Comfort, though, came down to how precisely he shaped it to the face. He worked the metal with Chairman Jung Tae-geun's face shape and the set of his ears held firmly in mind. The nose would matter when he made the pads; the frame as a whole had to account for those first two.
He checked the photographs he'd taken one more time.
Chairman Jung's skull flares a little wider at the sides than most people's.
Compared to the average head, his sat just slightly broader through the temples. A pair of frames built not to slip would have been pressing on that spot all day long.
They wouldn't fall off — but they'd keep digging into his temples, so they'd be miserable to wear for any length of time.
The best answer in a case like this wasn't a straight temple arm. A gentle C-curve would ease the pressure and wrap around the head instead.
Not pressure. An embrace.
Once the arms were done, it was time to shape the hooks that would rest behind the ears. Comfort there came down to one thing above all: the difference in height between the two ears. Most people have a slight mismatch, one side sitting a little higher than the other. Ordinary frames never account for it — and neither, for that matter, do most custom-order ones. The reason is simple enough. Most people figure it doesn't matter.
Ignore that difference, though, and the glasses will sit tilted for the rest of their life.
If I want these as comfortable as they can possibly be, I have to honor the ears.
Chairman Jung's left ear sat about two millimeters higher than the right. The earpieces were made to match.
No — too high... a millimeter this way... a little more...
It was a small thing. Details like these were what made a masterpiece that existed nowhere else in the world.
Two hours of unbroken concentration later, the basic shape of the frames had come together. For the design and the color, he kept in mind that this was a chaebol chairman in his sixties: luxurious, but nothing that would catch the eye. Design was rarely a major consideration when he made things — but glasses sat on a face all day, in full view of everyone, and that changed the calculation.
No need to make them flashy. He wouldn't want that anyway.
He finished the coating in a black that carried the faintest hint of brown. Then he stretched, set the painted frames aside, and brought over a few more materials for the last piece of the work.
This part needs a different approach.
It was time to make the nose pads. Most people used plastic. He had an alloy in mind.
"Titanium, palladium, and... gold."
Titanium had been too heavy for the frames themselves, but a pair of nose pads had a fraction of that volume. A titanium base wouldn't be a problem. He designed the mix, then wrote the ratios down.
◈ Titanium — 90.45%
◈ Gold — 4.52%
◈ Palladium — 5.03%
"That should do it."
Gold prices had been obscene lately, but he'd bought a little pure gold for materials last time on the off chance he'd need it. That saved him a fair amount.
He fired up the electric furnace and started with the titanium. Titanium for the base; pure gold so the pads would warm to body heat and sit against the skin without a fight; palladium so they wouldn't turn slippery even with sweat. The frames had needed a proper batch. This needed only a pinch, and the mix came together fast.
"Right. Now for this..."
The pads had to match Chairman Jung's nose. There was a slight hook to it, so he shaped them in negative relief, a shallow cradle cut to that aquiline curve. Then he joined the finished pads to the frame so the connection would never come loose.
— Click.
"Done."
He set the completed frames on the shelf. Maybe because he'd put in a little more care than usual, the Soul in them felt denser than it typically did. Not quite on the level of the last brush, or his mother's kitchen knife — but this was a fine piece of work all the same.
Worth the time.
A little past six in the evening, Chairman Jung Tae-geun arrived at the workshop.
"Mr. Kang. I haven't kept you waiting too long, have I?"
"Not at all. You arrived at the perfect time."
"That so? Good. Are the frames finished?"
Cheol-woo answered with a voice full of confidence.
"Yes. I believe you'll be more than satisfied."
The chairman threw his head back and laughed.
"Ahahaha. Mr. Kang, that confidence of yours really is world-class. Of course, that's because you've got the skill to back it up. Well then — let's have a look at those frames."
Cheol-woo handed them over.
"Here they are."
"Hoh..."
Chairman Jung turned the frames this way and that in his hands. The design's to my liking. Understated, with a luxurious feel. And what is this even made of? It's remarkably light.
The custom frames he'd ordered before had been light compared to an ordinary pair. These felt like half that weight.
"These are incredibly light. But this light — won't they snap in no time?"
Cheol-woo shook his head.
"Of course, with this kind of weight reduction, they won't survive a car running over them. But they're not so fragile that sitting on them by accident would snap them, either."
"So they hold up fine for everyday use, is that it?"
"Yes. Unless someone deliberately tried to cut them, they'd last a good twenty years under ordinary use."
"That so?"
Just to be sure, the chairman put a little force into them. Oh... this...
The frames didn't budge. A man who set his mind to breaking them could probably manage it — but in any ordinary situation, they clearly weren't going anywhere.
"Please, try them on."
"Well then. Let's see..."
Chairman Jung took off the glasses he was wearing and put on the pair Cheol-woo had made. The first thing he felt was this:
Would you look at that?
It was beyond anything he'd imagined. He'd already confirmed that Cheol-woo's eye for detail was nowhere near an ordinary person's, so he'd expected the work itself wouldn't be ordinary either. This, though, had blown those expectations clean out of the water.
"I made them considering every point of contact — the shape of your face, the shape of your nose, even the set of your ears."
"......Seems that way. These are so comfortable I can barely tell I'm wearing glasses at all. I could almost swear my face came with a glasses-shaped part from the start."
There were no lenses in them yet. The view ahead should have been a blur, an inconvenience in its own right — and these frames were comfortable enough to make him forget even that.
This thing is on a completely ridiculous level.
Chairman Jung marveled at the absurd comfort of the frames. And in the same breath, his business mind started turning.
Mass-produce these and they'd sell. Set a high price and they'd still sell. No question.
He took the glasses off and asked, carefully:
"Mr. Kang. Have you given any thought to mass-producing these?"
"Mass production?"
"That's right. A product of this caliber would fly off the shelves even at several thousand dollars a pair."
A lifetime as a businessman, through and through. Even in that handful of minutes, he'd already started thinking about how to turn this into a venture. Cheol-woo's answer, though, had been decided long before the question was asked.
"I'm sorry, Chairman. I have no intention of going into mass production."
"That so? Mass production would put a considerable sum in your pocket."
That much was true. The money would dwarf anything he was earning now. But mass production ran against the principle he held highest when he made things.
"Chairman. Do you know why I don't take orders online — why I only take them in person, here at the workshop?"
"Can't say I do."
"I make every piece the way I made these frames: tailored to the person who will actually use it. That's why I only take commissions here, in person. If I went into mass production, that principle would fall apart."
"Hrm..."
Cheol-woo held up the glasses he'd made.
"These were made for you and you alone, Chairman. On my face, they might actually be uncomfortable. Mass-produce them to a standard spec and that kind of mismatch goes away — but you also lose any chance of making a frame this perfectly comfortable."
"A craftsman's pride, is it?"
"Yes. It's a rule I keep for myself when I make things. You made a generous offer, and I'm sorry to turn it down."
The chairman smiled.
"No, no. Listening to you, it makes sense. Mass production would end up as factory stamping sooner or later. And then you couldn't make a frame this perfectly comfortable."
"Thank you for understanding."
Chairman Jung settled the frames into the case that had been waiting for them.
"I should be on my way. I'll need lenses made to match these on the road home. Just thinking about sitting down with a book tonight, comfortable, has me looking forward to it."
Then, last of all, he held out an envelope.
"This is for the frames."
"What...? No — you already gave me a car. I can't take this..."
"Take it. That's how I'll feel right coming back to commission something else."
He stuffed the envelope into Cheol-woo's pocket a second time. Cheol-woo made a show of having no choice, and took it. A glance at the contents was enough. The amount inside ran far past anything that had been quoted.
Whoa... this was worth all the work.
The moment Chairman Jung Tae-geun left, Cheol-woo grabbed the car keys and ran for the car.
A Daesan employee had already come by before the chairman arrived and finished the transfer. They'd even paid a full year of insurance as a courtesy, so he could drive it then and there. The tank was full, too.
Chaebols really are on another level.
He climbed in carefully and turned the key.
— Vroom. Vroom...! Vroooom!
The sound alone made any comparison to a truck embarrassing.
"Kh... that's nice."
He wasn't much of a car person, but having a good one in his hands filled him with a sudden, greedy urge to go for a drive. Pick his mother up, take a turn around Seoul — that would be just about perfect.
"Anyway. No more work today."
He locked the car and ran back to close up the workshop. Lights off, door locked, just about to leave — and that was when he saw a familiar silhouette in the distance.
What? Who's here at this hour...
A nervous thought flickered through him: maybe someone had come to take the car back, saying it had been too expensive a gift. The silhouette, though, belonged to someone he hadn't expected at all.
"Taeseok-hyung. What are you doing here at this hour?"
His face was half on the verge of tears.
"Cheol-woo... is there any chance I could work at your workshop...?"