The Weight of Expectations
Ep. 01 Manhattan (7)
"I was honestly worried you might act as stubbornly as you did during the meeting, Henry. But you handled everything far more perfectly than I expected. With this level of grace, I won't have to worry at all about your upcoming social debut. To be completely honest, I was even debating whether I should prepare conversation scripts for you in advance."
Bart, who had been silently observing from behind throughout the entire meeting with Reagan, praised Henry with a look of renewed appreciation. Henry, however, seemed embarrassed by the warm gaze and simply shrugged his shoulders in response.
"Bart, that was a very exceptional situation. If I actually have to attend a social event, please write me a script. I'm really not cut out for those kinds of gatherings."
Bart offered a benevolent smile at Henry's self-deprecating reply. While Henry was merely brushing off the compliment out of awkwardness, in Bart's eyes, he already carried the dignified presence of a true family patriarch.
Henry alone remained unaware that his relaxed demeanor and silence had been interpreted by Bart as 'the insight of a heavyweight who commands the room,' and by Reagan as 'a heavy authority that pressures the opponent.'
"Since we've already declared our support, we need to show it through action. Can we interfere with The Time's editorial decisions?"
"Of course. On the surface it's about separating management from editing, but as long as the content isn't completely absurd, there's no problem running it. And if it's about Governor Reagan, the leading Republican presidential candidate who's the talk of the town these days, the justification is even stronger. You don't need to worry about this at all. I'll handle it myself."
Henry had been debating whether to run the story first in the weekly The Time or in Live or Human, so when Bart volunteered to take the lead, the troublesome task vanished. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in satisfaction.
"As expected, only you could handle this, Bart. Choose the magazine where the governor will shine the most. Make sure he can read between the lines just how special we consider him to be, without us having to spell it out. I'm planning to go all-in on this guy."
The moment Bart heard Henry's final words, a pleasant shiver ran down his spine. This approach—honoring family tradition while securing practical benefits—was the optimal move. However, throwing full support behind one side due to youthful passion was extremely risky. Bart considered offering advice, but upon seeing Henry's resolute eyes and expression, he swallowed his words. In this state, Henry wasn't the type to listen to counsel anyway. Even if this gamble failed, the losses wouldn't be catastrophic. Bart silently prayed that failure would become valuable experience and success would bring profit, then continued with his praise.
"It seems you won't need any social scripts after all. To consider the family's traditions while naturally linking them to tangible gains... Truly excellent."
With the expression of a seeker who had just attained profound enlightenment, Bart quietly left the study. Even as the door closed, his face remained etched with deep emotion—'To think young master Henry has grown this splendidly.'
Left alone, Henry stared blankly at the door Bart had exited through before scratching the back of his head.
Bart's excessive loyalty made the back of his neck tingle, but he was satisfied that the annoying media control task had been resolved through the express lane. He sank deep into the sofa.
"The Time and the magazine business... There are a few items that occasionally come to mind. I think I wrote them down somewhere. Let's see."
Rummaging through his drawer, Henry skimmed through his secret notebook written in encrypted Korean.
Finally, Henry emptied the brandy glass filled with Nostalgia 30. The sharp alcohol spread pleasantly through him. Feeling languid, he headed toward the bathroom to wash up and sleep.
The Time headquarters. CEO's office.
As soon as Henry entered, three men shot up from their seats. He greeted them with a friendly smile and extended his hand to each for a handshake.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Henry Debenger."
"Welcome to The Time, Mr. Debenger. I'm Andrew Huckel, serving as interim CEO."
"Nice to meet you. I'm James Shapley, the president."
"I've just been appointed editor-in-chief. Henry Grunwald. A pleasure, Mr. Debenger."
Henry was guided to the empty seat of honor and sat down, gesturing for the three men to take their seats as well. Then he studied them carefully.
These were people he had only encountered through names and photos in countless media industry novels and videos from his previous life. A strange mix of familiarity and tense unfamiliarity washed over him simultaneously.
Although quite some time had passed since he inherited the family, this was his first time visiting The Time's headquarters in person. The reason he had stayed away until now was, ironically, because of these three men.
Andrew Huckel was the man who had successfully diversified The Time's business and aggressively expanded into cable television. President James Shapley had been the driving force behind those bold moves. And editor-in-chief Henry Grunwald was praised as the visionary who had transformed the magazine's previously crude style into something modern and sophisticated.
In short, they were talents. If Henry could properly hold the reins so they wouldn't touch failing ventures, there could be no more reliable workers for growing The Time.
"The reason I've come to visit today is partly to inspect the company now that I've recently inherited the family, but more importantly, I wanted to have an open and honest discussion with all of you about The Time's future. First, let me make one thing clear: I have no intention of stepping directly into management like my mother did."
Henry looked straight into the eyes of Andrew Huckel, seated to his right, and continued.
"I've reviewed The Time's second-quarter report. Even amid the chaos following the previous CEO's unfortunate passing, COO Andrew Huckel maintained excellent stability. The management performance over the past month as interim CEO has also been impressive. Therefore, I'd like to remove that 'interim' label now. The final decision rests with the board, but as the largest shareholder, I want you to know that my opinion firmly supports Mr. Huckel."
Surprise flashed in Huckel's eyes at the unexpected and bold show of confidence. Henry turned to President James Shapley beside him and offered an even warmer smile.
"President James Shapley. Before coming here, I reviewed the documents summarizing The Time's recent activities. It seems you've faced quite a few rejections from my mother—from the paper company acquisition to the recent newspaper proposal. Haha. Still, I view the cable expansion and cable TV initiatives you're currently leading very positively. Beyond respect for my late mother, even by objective standards, the current direction is correct. I also agree that the proposed expansion into paper manufacturing or newspapers doesn't align with The Time's current trajectory."
This body's biological mother had possessed near-max-level intuition when it came to media management. She had an uncanny ability to avoid failing acquisitions while boldly scaling up successful cable and satellite broadcasting ventures. Thanks to her, The Time boasted far superior performance and market capitalization compared to its previous timeline.
"However, I completely agree with Mr. Shapley's proposal for 'vertical integration of the logistics system' that was noted in the report at the time. In fact, by my standards, it seemed rather too cautious."
Henry alternated his gaze between Huckel and Shapley as he continued.
"The reason I opposed acquiring a paper company is because we don't need to become manufacturers who cut down trees and produce paper ourselves. That's just a low-profit smokestack industry. Long-term contracts for what we need are sufficient. Expanding into newspapers also lacked competitiveness. But distribution is different."
Henry stared piercingly into Shapley's eyes and drove the point home.
"What caught my attention was your assertion about 'optimizing the logistics system.' It's not simply about buying a trucking company to deliver our own magazines. If fuel becomes scarcer and more expensive than it is now, every small and medium-sized magazine and newspaper company will be unable to afford shipping costs and will go bankrupt. What happens if we control the nationwide logistics network at that time?"
Shapley's eyes widened.
"Our competitors will kneel before us, begging, 'Please deliver our magazines.' We'll sit back and collect tolls, and we could even push back the delivery priority of competitors we don't like—for example, those Newhouse fellows—and drive them to ruin. Logistics isn't merely a cost. It's the leash around the media industry's neck. Besides, aren't there signs that the laws preventing free expansion of logistics are about to change?"
Henry delivered the final blow to Huckel and Shapley.
"Don't let the more than six hundred million dollars in cash currently accumulated at The Time rot in the vault. Convert it into tangible assets before inflation hits. Seize control of delivery networks across America, and simultaneously prepare to expand that infrastructure into 'home delivery services' in the future. Execute this the moment the law changes, then continue expanding. This is what I believe aggressive expansion truly means."
The second oil shock was already underway. The oil prices, currently in a temporary lull, would soon skyrocket again alongside conflict in the Middle East. Postal service (USPS) delivery fees—the lifeline of magazine companies—would soar through the roof, and logistical paralysis would surely follow.
Recalling this episode that he had seen at least twice in novels, Henry decided now was the perfect time to unleash the company's ample reserves.
And finally, the last person. Henry turned his gaze to Henry Grunwald, who had been silently listening to the entire conversation from the left, and opened his mouth once more.