Seoul, 2059 — The Branch Manager
Lee Han-seok.
Seoul, 2059.
"The government must guarantee its citizens' right to survive! Guarantee it!"
"Cover the longevity drugs under national health insurance!"
"The poor die at eighty while the rich live to two hundred and eighty. How is that fair?!"
"Free BD200 injections for all! Free BD200 injections for all! Free BD200 injections for all!"
The road was locked down by the protest.
The mid-size sedan came to a stop.
"Sir, there's a demonstration ahead — I don't think we can go any farther from here."
Secretary Kim in the driver's seat spoke as she disengaged the autopilot.
"They started earlier than scheduled, huh?"
A man who looked to be in his late twenties leaned forward from the back seat.
In the rearview mirror, his eyes met Secretary Kim's coolly professional gaze.
The man spoke.
"What do we do, Secretary Kim? Any ideas? Earn that salary of yours."
"You could walk, sir."
"It's three hundred meters."
Lee Han-seok grumbled, checking the map on his phone. Beneath his shirt, the sweep of his broad shoulders and hard muscle showed for an instant.
"Three hundred meters seems well within walking distance."
Secretary Kim turned around in her seat. Under her black suit, her white blouse pulled taut across her chest, showing off the volume beneath without a hint of subtlety. Through the gap between buttons, a sky-blue bra flashed into view.
"Sky blue, huh?"
Han-seok said, eyes fixed on her chest. Flustered, she smoothed her clothes straight.
"That's sexual harassment, you know."
"Do they come as a set, top and bottom?"
Secretary Kim pressed her glossy pink lips together and put on a sulky expression.
Han-seok turned his attention to the marching protesters.
"Forget this route. We should have gone through Gwanghwamun."
"That's because so many people who've had their BD shots live around this area. They're the ones making a fuss."
"And how many haven't? What were the statistics again?"
"Six percent have had BD200 like you, sir, and forty-eight percent have had at least one round of BD40 like me."
"How much was a shot again? One billion won?"
"BD200 is one billion. BD40 is two hundred million."
"It's gotten a lot cheaper. Two hundred extra years of life on top of getting your youth back — a billion won is a bargain. When I got mine ten years ago it was two billion."
"Forgive me for asking, but your age this year, sir..."
"Forty-seven. Back in 2029 I was only seventeen, and now look at the time. I still can't believe it. Honestly, I'm a little hurt you don't even know my age, considering how long we've worked together."
"Ah — you look so young that I simply forgot, that's all."
"You've been working with me and all you've gotten better at is talking your way out of things. Come to think of it, you got your BD40 too and — how should I put it — got even prettier? Your skin, for one."
"I'm twenty-two, sir. I was young and pretty to begin with."
"Fine, we'll go with that. Then I'll get out here. I want to look in on a few of the buildings, so if I'm late, just head home."
"Understood. I'll return to the office."
Han-seok opened the door to step out, then turned back.
"Oh. Secretary Kim."
Secretary Kim, already firing up the autopilot, turned her head. "Yes?"
"Before you go — couldn't you show me a little more of that chest?"
Secretary Kim clenched her jaw. A vein rose at her temple.
"Sir?"
"Kidding."
Han-seok stepped out of the car.
Along the boulevard, buildings lined up so tall that you had to crane your neck, mouth agape, just to find where they ended.
Tap. Tap.
At the sound of knuckles on the glass, he turned around.
His eyes met Secretary Kim's through the window. She bit her lower lip, then tilted her head slightly. The white blouse, unbuttoned. She pulled the fabric aside and showed him the sky-blue bra.
The plump swell of her upper chest, the deep valley between — Han-seok couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. She tucked her clothes back into place with her professional mask restored, and a moment later the sedan made a U-turn and disappeared down the street.
"Well then."
Han-seok tucked his hands in his pockets and began walking through the forest of towering buildings.
Three hundred meters on foot, and the moment he stepped into the building he ran straight into a man.
An old man in his seventies, hair thinning to wisps, wearing a stained work uniform. Even the tools in his grip looked so ancient they seemed to qualify for a BD injection themselves.
He was the building's licensed electrical safety manager, hired by Han-seok. Spotting Han-seok, the man gave a small bow.
"Morning, boss."
"How have you been, ahjussi? Heading somewhere?"
The old man pointed upward with a finger. "There's a power problem on the second floor, at the bank."
"Is that right."
"They said it was the branch manager's office, so business shouldn't be affected."
"Well, it is an older building. If the job turns out to be bigger than expected, call the number I gave you and I'll have someone come out to handle it."
"Yes, yes. Understood."
"Didn't I buy you a new toolbox back then?"
"These old ones just feel right in my hands, is all."
Han-seok nodded. "Then I'll leave you to go take a look."
"Hold on — let's go up together."
"Sir?"
"I've never once set foot in the bank since it moved in here. Figured I'd show my face. And if you need anything, I can give you a hand."
"Ha! You can't help me, sir. This is my work. What's an old man supposed to live on otherwise?"
"Really? My mistake, then. I wasn't thinking. After you, then."
The two of them went up to the second floor by the stairs.
Ding—
"Now serving customer number 212."
The bank's interior was clean and quiet. A security guard approached them with a wary expression.
"What brings you here?"
"I hear the branch manager's office lost power."
Han-seok said. The guard gestured toward the office. As Han-seok and the old man moved, a sharp-eyed employee waved them through into the back.
"Is the branch manager in?"
Han-seok asked. "Yes."
The employee knocked politely on the glass door of the branch manager's office.
"Yeah?"
At the voice from within, the employee opened the door. A man in his early forties, wearing glasses, looked up from the phone he'd been staring at.
"The electrician is here about the power, sir."
"Right, sure. Go file your report. Come on in."
The employee returned to his station, and Han-seok and the old man stepped into the office. The ceiling light flickered.
"The light's been doing this. None of the staff know what to do about it."
The old man nodded. Han-seok had assumed a socket wire had aged and shorted out, but it was nothing of the sort — the stabilizer simply needed replacing.
Beside him, Han-seok stood as if his soul had left his body, staring blankly.
Just like my informants reported.
The old man spoke to him. "Could you step outside for a moment..."
"Yes. Of course."
Han-seok came back to himself and nodded. The old man left, and the branch manager turned back to his phone.
Han-seok swallowed hard.
— Who told you to study, you little bastard.
Smack.
The memory of a stinging blow to the back of his head surfaced.
"Han Dong-jin."
The name spilled out of Han-seok's mouth. On the desk sat a nameplate reading:
[Han Dong-jin — Branch Manager, Baekjin Bank Gangnam Branch]
The branch manager's head shot up.
For a long moment, the two men stood staring at each other in silence. The ceiling light flickered.
Han Dong-jin's mouth opened slowly as he looked at Han-seok, and he muttered like a man seeing a ghost.
"...Lee Han-seok."
The man bolted up from the sofa.
"It really is you, Dong-jin?"
A smile spread across Han-seok's lips.
"Uh. Yeah. It's me. Hey. G-good to see you. Hey. Sit. Sit down."
Flustered, the man glanced around before pointing Han-seok to the sofa across from him. The two sat facing each other.
"Wow. I almost didn't recognize you. A branch manager, no less. Did you get BD40? You haven't aged a bit."
The 'friend' from his past — who looked every bit of his late twenties — marveled at Han-seok, who to anyone's eyes was in his forties.
"Uh... yeah. And you — you got the BD200, didn't you? You haven't changed at all."
"Nope. I got the 40 too. I was always young-looking, remember?"
"Ah..."
The tension drained from Han Dong-jin's face.
Getting BD200 would mean a man had at least a billion won of liquid cash on hand. The idea that Lee Han-seok had become that successful was something Dong-jin refused to accept.
Han-seok said, wearing an embarrassed expression.
"Come on — who does building maintenance and can afford the 200? I took out a loan just to get the 40."
"I see. So you work here. Why haven't I seen you around?"
"I only started recently. I'm basically a part-time handyman for that ahjussi, so I'm not always here. Anyway — wow. You've really made it. Branch manager of Baekjin Bank."
"It's nothing. My studying was mediocre, but I always had a quick mind, didn't I? Been scraping by on it one way or another."
By now, ease and confidence radiated from Dong-jin's face and posture.
The conversation lapsed. Silence settled over the branch manager's office. Han Dong-jin drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, then spoke with a smile.
"But Han-seok, weren't you good at studying?"
A collaboration of career-snobbery and deliberate needling: how does the class genius end up doing facility maintenance for a living?
Han-seok scratched his jaw and leaned back against the sofa.
"I dropped out because of you and your little gang. Remember... or no?"
Dong-jin lifted his head, then nodded as if it were nothing at all.
"Ah. Right, you did drop out... That's how it was. Yes. Yes, I remember now. So — how have you been?"
"How have I been... where do I even start."
After dropping out, Han-seok had passed the qualification exam, entered university, and majored in chemistry. He graduated three years early, went abroad to Harvard to study chemistry and computer engineering, and finished both integrated master's-doctoral programs in five years.
Then he founded a pharmaceutical company called Milestone.
His first creation — EX69, a twenty-four-hour male contraceptive — became a massive global hit, and every drug he released afterward sold like wildfire. He made more money than he could have imagined.
After twenty years of building Milestone, he sold it to a famous Northern European pharmaceutical giant and settled the equity with his co-founders — leaving more than five trillion won in his hands.
Because he had never once shown his face in the media, he became, quite literally, a rich man nobody could identify.
He scattered his assets across the world. About a year ago he returned to Korea, built a small company, and — seizing on a market low — bought dozens of commercial buildings across Gangnam, Seoul.
This building, into which the Baekjin Bank Gangnam Branch had moved only recently, belonged to Han-seok.
A faint smile lingered at the corners of Dong-jin's mouth. Han-seok scratched his head and spoke.
"I just... tried this and that, nothing really panned out. So I got my electrical certification and I'm studying now. Th-thinking maybe I'll make professional engineer one of these days."
Han-seok silently marveled at the improvised lie that had just come out of his own mouth. His acting wasn't half bad, either.
Dong-jin crossed his legs and nodded. "Right. You were always good at studying. You'll get it."
Han-seok took out his phone.
"Hey, uh — could I get your number?"
Dong-jin looked back and forth between the phone and Han-seok, considered a moment, then hauled his heavy body upright. "Sure."
He punched his number into Han-seok's phone, and when Han-seok placed the call, Dong-jin's phone rang. [Han Dong-jin] was added to the messenger.
His profile picture was a photo of Han Yu-na, the idol everyone was talking about these days.
Just like the report said. Han Yu-na really is this bastard's daughter. God, look at those genes — an absolute jackpot.
A radiant beauty who would turn heads anywhere. Slender arms and legs. A striking chest and hips.
Should I just tell him right now that I own this building — that he used to bully me in school — and scream it at the top of my lungs before slapping him across the face?
Han-seok rose from his seat.