The Collections I've Gathered
Picking the right building was its own matter. I still had work of my own to do. The move was settled. When I asked the boss, she said that once the price was agreed and the rest of the paperwork finished, we would move in. My floor, of course, was to be remodeled on its own so it would feel just like home.
In other words, it was going to take a while. Even so, it would be faster than raising a building out of bare earth. If they had tried to put one up on empty land just to make me a place to live, she said it would take two years at the very least. Fortunately, it would not take nearly that long.
Which meant my endless commute was about to shrink in the most dramatic way. An hour each way—two hours there and back—would become short enough that I could walk. And I would no longer have to race home. That meant more time to play with Jiyu and Yumi.
I usually left early because of Maru's clock-out. She had to be off at six, so by four, or four-thirty at the latest, I needed to be in the car she brought around and on my way. I could have made her work overtime, of course. I just didn't want to be a burden. So I did my best to match her perfectly punctual departure.
"Hmm, hmm~"
I nestled my Little Magician Rumi collection into a moving box, piece by precious piece. These were things that absolutely could not be scratched or broken, so wrapping every one in bubble wrap went without saying. We would probably move within the month, which meant I had to start preparing in earnest now. I could have left it to the staff, but treasures like these I wanted to pack with my own hands.
I decided to wrap the most important things separately, first of all. Anything of lesser importance I planned to pack in a hurry and send along. Textbooks, school supplies, the odds and ends of school life—if those disappeared, it hardly mattered, so they could go out the door with a careless toss.
Once I had loaded the Little Magician Rumi collection into one large box, it looked about half full. I gazed at the sight with a satisfied smile. So many pieces of Rumi. Just looking at them left me full and warm; it was a glowing little scene.
"Ah!"
I spotted the magic wand sitting on the desk. That, too, I wrapped neatly in bubble wrap and tucked into the box. I looked down at the contents with a happy smile. All that diligent living had been worth it—and there were limited editions in there besides. If Rumi fans across the country ever laid eyes on this, they would stare with drool practically dripping from their mouths.
"Hana, what are you doing?"
Maru stepped into Hana's room and asked, her face full of curiosity. Hana had set out one large box and was stacking things inside, neat and careful, for all the world like someone preparing a parcel. She looked up, saw Maru, and broke into a smile.
"We're moving soon, so I'm getting ready!"
"You could just ask us to do that... You don't have to do a thing, Hana."
"No. This is important. I have to do it myself!"
"You do...?"
Maru edged closer and stole a glance inside the box. One look at the contents and it all made sense. These were the Rumi pieces Hana cherished like her own life. Remembering the effort Hana had poured into gathering every single one, it was no wonder she handled them like treasure.
Even so, Hana was only a third grader, and she still seemed to love Little Magician Rumi an awful lot. She was young, that much was true, but she was also sharp enough to rank first in the entire school. She hadn't gone from kindergarten straight through elementary school the way other children had, and yet, strangely, she was brilliant at her studies.
To Maru, Hana looked like a child with an adult's soul inside her. Then again, watching her work this hard to protect her Little Magician Rumi collection, Maru also thought she was exactly the child her age ought to be. She hurried over to Hana, who was still sorting with fierce concentration.
"I'll help you, Hana!"
"Aaah! Don't touch that, Maru!"
Whether that would turn out to be a good thing for Hana remained to be seen.
"Good day, President. Choi Jeongcheol."
Choi Jeongcheol offered a deep, formal bow to Kim Sehee, a woman young enough to be his daughter. He was already in his early fifties. She was twenty years his junior, and the depth of that bow felt, even to him, a little excessive.
He was a lawmaker whose background held its own wherever he went. Kim Sehee's background, however, was the direct bloodline of the Starlight Guild. Considering the social weight that guild carried, there was reason enough for him to come in with his head lowered. An elected assemblyman's power did not last forever.
Being a direct descendant of the Starlight Guild did. Even if the sky fell, the fact that she was the daughter of the Starlight Guild's chairman would not change.
"Hello, Assemblyman Choi Jeongcheol."
Kim Sehee returned the greeting with equal courtesy. She had no desire to hand a politician something to seize on. There was an old saying that when a politician nurses a grudge, frost falls even in the height of summer. There was no point in scratching a sore that didn't need scratching.
"I apologize for dropping in on Starlight Food so suddenly. I ought to have called ahead, but the news I heard was so astonishing that I came running at once. Please forgive me."
"Not at all. It hardly matters. Starlight Food is always an open company. Astonishing news, you said?"
"Well... I heard that Starlight Food intends to relocate its headquarters to Seoul..."
Kim Sehee had not gone out of her way to tell anyone, and she found herself wondering who had spread it. Then again, her side had never really tried to keep it quiet. They had been in and out of properties without a thought for watching eyes. Words travel a thousand miles without feet; hiding the fact that Starlight Food's headquarters was moving had been close to impossible.
Back when the company was no bigger than a modest mid-sized firm, perhaps they could have managed it. Now, with tens of thousands of employees, giving up on secrecy had been the only choice. A company of this weight would leak no matter the method. Kim Sehee answered with a perfectly blank face. It was her company, and as the majority shareholder she could do whatever she pleased with it.
If someone disliked her decision, they were welcome to buy the shares and become Starlight Food's majority shareholder themselves. She had no intention, of course, of sitting there with her eyes open and simply watching that happen. If Hana asked for Starlight Food as a birthday present, she might pause to think it over. In any case, Starlight Food was as good as Hana's already.
"Assemblyman Choi. Starlight Food is relocating the headquarters alone. The farms, the storage facilities, and the rest of the supporting sites will all remain here in Gyeonggi Province. Think of the industrial complex in Ulsan—the head office in Seoul, and production out in the regions."
At that, Assemblyman Choi Jeongcheol's face went slack with shock.
"But... if a major corporation like Starlight Food pulls out, the blow to Gyeonggi will be enormous. Please, reconsider just this once. Our province will give you every form of support we possibly can."
It was already decided. A decision that would not change even if the President himself walked through the door—because Hana had agreed. Had Hana opposed it, they would have stayed in Gyeonggi. Hana, however, had taken the idea of moving the building to Seoul rather well. There was no one left who could stop Kim Sehee.
"If Starlight Food is to grow into a still greater corporation, this was a decision we could not avoid. It will not change even if the President comes."
"Ah..."
Faced with that unyielding expression, Choi Jeongcheol decided that clinging any further would be rude. The regret, though, he could not help. The local taxes Starlight Food paid were a drop in the bucket beside Gyeonggi's annual budget. But the speed at which the company was growing was a pace no other firm could match.
Put bluntly, people in the stock market were saying Korea had produced its own Apple. That was the rate of it. The moment the market opened, Starlight Food's shares hit the daily upper limit, day after day. And yet it was also a stock like sour grapes: there were no trades, so no one could buy it. Nobody was selling. Only buyers existed. A very strange stock.
"President... couldn't you think it over just one more time? It doesn't have to be Paju. What about Bundang? Pangyo would be perfectly fine as well."
Watching Assemblyman Choi Jeongcheol whine, Kim Sehee felt the devil in her heart stir, ready to wake. Even so, she offered him a little lip service, if only to send him on his way.
"I'll... give some thought to Bundang and Pangyo as well."
It was never going to happen. Not in a thousand years.