Headhunting

Having a secretary certainly made life easier.

“Mayor, it’s time to head out.”

It was incredibly convenient having someone manage his entire schedule.

Lee Yun-hyeok set down the survey report on the old municipal library remodeling project and stood up.

“You set up the meetings beforehand, right?”

“Yes! They said they’re all waiting in their labs.”

These meetings were with the very entrepreneurs who would forge a brand-new economic engine for Mir City.

Yun-hyeok intended to seek them out and scout them personally, acting as a high-powered headhunter. This had been one of his key by-election campaign promises.

While most politicians don't even remember their own promises, Yun-hyeok, of course, fully intended to deliver.

To that end, Jo Hyeon-seo had reached out to these brilliant minds beforehand, setting up a series of back-to-back meetings.

The destination was Hankuk University's College of Engineering.

Located in southern Seoul, Hankuk University was South Korea's most prestigious institution.

Which meant Ji Hye-min had been an exceptionally bright student.

And the same went for Yun-hyeok. He had excelled in his studies as a youth. Of course, looking back now in his fourth life, after rolling through three entire lifetimes, his school days felt like a distant, hazy memory.

In any case, Yun-hyeok was an alumnus of Hankuk University's College of Engineering. And today, he was returning to the alma mater he had graduated from so long ago.

The people he was meeting here were two graduate students and one part-time lecturer.

First up: Mun Gi-hyeon, thirty-five years old.

He had graduated with a PhD in Mechanical Engineering in August of the year before last, and was still lingering in the lab.

Because he was preparing to launch a startup.

To shed some light on his future: after founding a company through a government-funded program, he would be hounded relentlessly for immediate business results, eventually shutting down. He would then immigrate to the United States, hit the jackpot with a drone manufacturing business, and grow it into a seventy-trillion-won enterprise. The kicker? The South Korean Ministry of National Defense would end up importing those very drones for military use.

How did Yun-hyeok know this so well?

Because Mun Gi-hyeon was someone Yun-hyeok had worked with during his second life, back when he was running an investment firm in the United States.

In this life, Yun-hyeok wanted them to work together in Korea. Preferably in Mir City.

“Hello,” Yun-hyeok greeted him.

When they finally met, the man looked utterly bewildered.

Though they had reached out beforehand to request a meeting, the sheer absurdity of a politician—the Mayor of Mir City, no less—wanting to see him must have felt incredibly surreal.

But this proposal would make his eyes pop.

“I will lease you an entire twenty-eight-thousand-square-foot metalworking factory.”

“*Cough!*”

Dr. Mun Gi-hyeon choked on his own saliva and coughed. Yun-hyeok waited for him to compose himself before handing over the factory's profile document.

“It’s a company that went bankrupt a while ago, which the city subsequently acquired. The equipment inside should still be in good working order. There’s an appraisal report attached at the back.”

“T-this expensive equipment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is all just sitting there?”

“Yes.”

Normally, when a business goes bankrupt, such valuable equipment is liquidated immediately. However, this particular factory was a different story.

The company had barely kept itself on life support by sucking up massive subsidies from Baek Hyeong-guk's administration before ultimately going belly up. Amidst a tangled web of creditor claims, the city hall had ended up seizing the entire property.

And Baek Hyeong-guk, finding it too bothersome to deal with, had simply left it to rot.

Yun-hyeok intended to hand the entire facility over to Dr. Mun Gi-hyeon. And that wasn't all.

“Drone businesses usually face incredibly strict flight authorization hurdles, don't they? Mir City can actively streamline and support that entire process for you.”

“...!”

“Furthermore, Mir City is home to the 80th Infantry Division. You can develop your technology for military applications first and supply it to them. That division actually has an active Dronebot Combat Unit. I can easily pull some strings and bridge the gap for you.”

“My goodness!”

He was even handing him a built-in customer base!

At this point, practically every single element required to launch a successful startup was being served on a silver platter.

Dr. Mun Gi-hyeon's jaw hung slack, completely unable to close.

“T-this can't possibly be free. What does the city get out of this?”

“Administrative support and coordinating military procurement don't cost the city a single won, so those are entirely free.”

“...!”

“However, when it comes to the factory equipment, if I lease it out for free at my own discretion, the city council will tear me apart. So, legally, we do have to charge rent.”

“How much?”

“I’ve combed through all of Mir City’s municipal ordinances, and even at the absolute minimum, we have to charge fifty percent of the appraised rental value.”

Yun-hyeok continued,

“But that rent? I’ll find a way to cover that for you too.”

“...?”

Dr. Mun Gi-hyeon looked utterly bewildered, wondering what kind of bizarre, magical economics this politician was spinning.

Yun-hyeok wanted to explain, but...

“Could we hold that thought for a moment? I still have two more people to meet.”

With Jo Hyeon-seo and Mun Gi-hyeon trailing closely behind him, Yun-hyeok walked over to meet Hwang In-hye, a thirty-two-year-old postdoctoral researcher in the chemistry department.

An organic chemistry specialist, she had successfully developed a unique processing technology to manufacture plastics that did not shed microplastics.

This breakthrough would later become a mega-hit under a bio-safety brand, eventually ballooning into a hundred-and-fifty-trillion-won global enterprise.

In the United States, of course. Not Korea.

Dr. Hwang was currently fielding love calls from Germany. To spoil her future: she wouldn't go. The language barrier of German, combined with the staunch opposition of her boyfriend—a developer working in Pangyo—would keep her here.

Consequently, she would try to establish ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her business domestically, but after hitting wall after wall, she would ultimately pack her bags for America ten years down the line.

Not on my watch.

There was no way he was letting her leave.

This time, she was staying in Korea.

“We have a chemical plant in Durim-myeon with a footprint of about sixteen thousand square feet. It originally manufactured cosmetic raw material intermediates, but after it shut down, the city purchased it. I will lease the entire facility to you.”

“Wh-what...?!”

“Stainless steel reactors of one thousand and three thousand liters, a three-stage fractional distillation tower, a chiller, a polymer PLA process airline system, HPLC room piping, lab hot water supply, exhaust ventilation, hazardous substance storage, a purification room, and a drying room. It has everything. There is also a wastewater neutralization tank, organic solvent storage, a dedicated chemical warehouse, and it has already passed fire safety certification.”

“W-why... are you offering this to me?”

“The harmful effects of microplastics on the human body have been a constant concern. Your coating technology, which prevents microplastic generation, has immense commercial potential. I want to bring that potential to Mir City. If you start a business, you'll likely focus your product development on food delivery containers or disposable cups. I will arrange for our municipal offices and public institutions to prioritize purchasing your products.”

“Please, take me there right now!”

Her reaction was so identical to Dr. Mun's that Yun-hyeok almost burst out laughing.

“Just a moment. We still have one more person to meet.”

Like the Pied Piper, Yun-hyeok marched onward, with Jo Hyeon-seo, Mun Gi-hyeon, and Hwang In-hye trailing in a neat little line behind him.

The next entrepreneur's name was Kim Myeong-un.

This time, it wasn't a graduate student, but a member ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the faculty. Not a tenured professor, but a part-time lecturer.

“...And so, we have a refrigeration equipment assembly plant in Mir City. It’s fully equipped with EMI shielding and constant-temperature warehousing. The facility features a precision instrument assembly line, a basement server room, and an electromagnetic shielding system.”

Kim Myeong-un was an Edge AI semiconductor designer. He created ultra-miniature AI chips used in smart home appliances, cameras, and robotics—one of the most promising industries of the future.

To reveal his future: unlike the others, this man would head to China, not America. Even now, he was sitting on a five-billion-won investment offer from China, though his family was vehemently opposing the move.

While Yun-hyeok's offer might look modest compared to five billion won, Dr. Kim had never received a proposal this good within South Korea.

“If you come to Mir City, I will do everything in my power to protect you. And your customers will be right next door.”

Technically, they were prospective customers, but still.

“Edge AI!”

Mun Gi-hyeon and Hwang In-hye gasped in unison.

It was a technology both of them had been desperately searching for—one for integration into his drones, and the other for her analytical sensors.

With the startup infrastructure, a built-in supply chain, and immediate customers all lined up, all they needed to do was hire staff.

“The terms are so good it almost feels like a scam...”

Dr. Kim Myeong-un admitted, looking slightly anxious.

“And you're only charging half the rent?”

“To be honest, if it were up to me, I wouldn't charge you any rent at all.”

If hundred-trillion-won companies were going to take root in Korea instead of the US or China, what did a few abandoned factories leased for free matter?

At this point in time, brain drain in this country was reaching insane levels. Extreme measures were absolutely necessary.

Take Professor Kim Su-hong, for instance—the man who had measured the neutrino mixing angle at the Hanbit Nuclear Power Plant in Yeonggwang, South Jeolla Province.

Though the general public might not know him, his achievement was monumental in the physics community, earning him the prestigious Bruno Pontecorvo Prize in particle physics in 2017.

Where was this man now—someone once hailed as one of South Korea's closest contenders for a Nobel Prize in science?

He had left for China.

He had wanted to continue his research, but because of South Korea's rigid mandatory retirement age, he had no options left. So, he had departed for Sun Yat-sen University in China.

Professor Lee Gi-jeong, Professor Lee Myeong-hui, Professor Hong Sun-jae.

They had all left the country in similar fashion.

The irony was that Yun-hyeok had met them abroad during his second life while running his investment firm.

If cutting-edge technology and science were the muscles of a nation, weren't these talents the individual muscle fibers?

This country had negligible natural resources and relied entirely on its human capital, yet it stood by and watched as its greatest asset leaked away. A true politician had to keep their wits about them and hold onto them by any means necessary.

And it wasn't as if this required a budget of billions. It was just abandoned factories. He wanted nothing more than to just give them away.

“So, as a politician, I believe I should be the one thanking you three just for choosing to remain in the country.”

“...”

The three engineers felt a sudden warmth rise to their necks.

In all their lives, they had never even heard rumors of the political sphere showing this level of care and respect toward scientists.

Weren't politicians usually the type to ignore the scientific community entirely, only to show up and snap photos once a major breakthrough was achieved?

Yet here was the leader of a local municipality, who had personally driven an hour and a half just to scout them and ask them to work with him. It was deeply shocking.

“At any rate, to get to the main point,”

Yun-hyeok brought up the topic he had first broached with Dr. Mun Gi-hyeon.

“How would you like to bid for a government-sponsored project with me?”

Startups always required substantial capital in their early stages. The trio of engineers had likely been thinking of securing Series A funding, but Yun-hyeok could secure an even larger sum for them.

“You’ll need to remodel the factories anyway. We can win the project funding, use that money to renovate the facilities, design the interiors, purchase a few more pieces of necessary equipment, and even pay the rent. That should cover everything.”

A legendary investor from the American business world in his second life was taking charge of this venture.

“You might worry about the constant administrative hassle of submitting performance reports once you receive government funds, but I will stand in the middle and shield you—even if it means fighting the Ministry of Startups and SMEs myself.”

They decided to head out immediately to inspect the factory sites.

As Yun-hyeok walked toward the parking lot with the three engineers,

“But Mayor,”

Jo Hyeon-seo sidled up to him and whispered.

“Yes?”

“Is it really okay to... award a private contract like this?”

“Of course. Why wouldn't it be?”

“Shouldn't there be a public bidding process?”

Yun-hyeok chuckled softly.

“An administrative execution of this scale can be done at the mayor's sole discretion.”

“Even if it's legally sound, what if the city council ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠attacks you over it?”

“Oh, they will. But I can easily defend against them.”

Yun-hyeok found Jo Hyeon-seo's worrying rather endearing. With the seasoned experience of a five-term National Assembly member, a mere city council—not even the national parliament—posed absolutely no threat to him.

But right then,

Now, this is actually a bit troublesome.

“It’s Lee Yun-hyeok!”

Someone suddenly recognized Yun-hyeok, pointing a finger and shouting.

“It’s the Mayor of Mir City!”

A group of college students was pouring out of the student union building. A few of them were wearing Digital Media Design department jackets.

“*Gasp!*”

The female student in the center of the group gasped in shock.

It was Ji Hye-min.

“W-wait a minute!”

Ji Hye-min struggled, trying to take a step backward.

But she was firmly caught by her merciless friends.

“No! Let me go!”

It was true that she had wanted to see Lee Yun-hyeok again. But not right now. Because...

“It’s exam week, guys!”

She looked like a complete wreck after pulling an all-nighter. She hadn't even washed up today. Her greasy hair was tied back in a messy bun, she was wearing thick, high-prescription glasses, and her skin was completely dry and dull.

Ji Hye-min thrashed about in a panic, but her friends gleefully dragged her forward.

“Mayor!”

“Hye-min is over here!”

“Aren't you going to do something for her?”

“Shouldn't you start paying her a salary by now?”

As she was dragged closer to Yun-hyeok, Ji Hye-min resorted to an extreme measure.

There was no other choice!

This was her only option!

“*Hup!*”

She grabbed the hood of her zip-up hoodie and yanked it completely over her face!

As a result, she arrived in front of Yun-hyeok looking like a faceless ghost.

“H... Hello.”

She greeted him awkwardly from deep inside her hood.

Even a fourth-life regressor couldn't help but be utterly flabbergasted by this shocking sight.

Hye-min, what on earth are you doing...?