The Clone and the Butler
Joshua Kensington (2)
Henry barely managed to smooth out the frown that had involuntarily creased his face as he gathered his thoughts. He calmly, yet with a sharp gaze, quickly scanned Joshua from head to toe before meeting his eyes. 'The customized appearance matches one hundred percent, and even the outfit comes as a complete set. Nice.'
Having finished his external verification, Henry asked the question he had prepared in advance. The future direction of how he would handle this clone would change completely depending on whether the duplicate recognized his true identity or was buried in the fabricated past that had been set for him.
"Joshua. Where were you yesterday?"
Joshua didn't hesitate for even a second. His blunt, low voice filled the room as if he were reading from a pre-prepared report.
"Yesterday, I spent the entire day inspecting the Manhattan office. Even though a week has passed since the funeral, tabloid journalists and informants from the Newhouse side have been loitering around the estate, trying to dig up information about the family. I took firm warning measures to ensure they wouldn't disturb your rest, Boss."
'Newhouse? That's worth looking into. Estate must refer to the outer grounds of the mansion. Okay, memo complete.'
Joshua glanced briefly at Henry's disheveled hair before adding,
"In the evening, I worked with my father in the mansion's security room to plan the redistribution of security personnel. Since the passing of the master and mistress, we've maintained the highest level of alert. Don't you remember? Late last night when you were looking for whiskey in your room, I brought you an ice bucket. It seems the alcohol has left your memory a bit hazy."
Henry mentally pumped his fist in triumph. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol yesterday—only water, and even that cautiously. This was clear proof that the system had forcibly inserted a fabricated past, under the name of "plausibility," into the memories of those around him. Then how would he react to future knowledge?
Henry took it one step further.
"Joshua. What do you think about a twenty-four-hour cable news channel?"
Anyone with even the slightest interest in America knew how enormously successful this idea would become. It was basic common knowledge. When people thought of American news, this channel immediately came to mind. In fact, the radical concept of twenty-four-hour news had spread worldwide after this channel's success and become the standard.
Joshua stared into space for a moment as if processing the information, then spoke.
"A world where information gaps disappear... That wouldn't be just a broadcasting station. It would be like having a radar operating twenty-four hours a day in your hands. The public will think and move according to whatever the channel says. For families like ours who have wielded power from the shadows, it will be a double-edged sword."
"Ted Turner? I can't quite remember the name, but I think that's it. The guy's going around telling everyone he's going to do this and getting laughed at. In your opinion, does this look like it could make money?"
"The inheritance procedures were already completed last week, so there will be no issues with capital injection. The initial losses will be severe, but if you were to acquire that channel, Boss, it wouldn't be an investment—it would be the creation of a private army called public opinion."
Henry smiled with satisfaction. Though Joshua didn't seem to possess future knowledge, his answer to the casually thrown question was the most chaebol-like response possible. It was time to wrap up the small talk.
"Good. We'll talk about this later. Right now, I have a task for you and you alone, Joshua. Starting with this mansion, reinvestigate every single person in the family. These are chaotic times, so it needs to be even more thorough. I'd appreciate it if you handled this as discreetly as possible. You're the only one I can entrust with this, Joshua."
Joshua's sharp eyes grew even more intense.
"I will start from zero base without relying on existing data and report back as quickly as possible."
"I'm counting on you."
Joshua left the room with the restrained movements characteristic of a soldier. Now all that remained was to face the family's true power broker and living history—the butler, Bartholomew Kensington.
Henry cautiously pressed the silver call button on his desk, something he had deliberately ignored until now.
'Alright, time to start the performance. Let's aim for Best Actor.'
Before he could even fully refine the line in his head, a knock sounded as if on cue, and the butler appeared.
"Bart, if you have a moment, could you prepare some coffee? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."
"I was already preparing it, Henry. On a foggy day like today, caffeine is surely in order."
Henry nodded lightly in response. Only after Bart had closed the door and left did he finally let out the breath he'd been holding.
Language habits, choice of words, attitude, and way of thinking were absolutely shaped by one's closest caregiver and surrounding environment during infancy. Beyond simply learning language, people absorbed through social learning which emotions to choose and express in specific situations. The human relationships and education experienced while growing up formed the very framework of one's personality and social life.
The problem was that Henry currently possessed two sets of memories. One was a dry collection of knowledge, like watching someone else's life in a movie. But as his thirty years in Korea and twenty-two years in America mixed together in roughly equal measure, he had to be extremely careful in his conduct. Especially important was not giving those around him any sense of alienation.
On the surface, he had just ascended to the position of family head and needed to establish dignity and authority. Even if he seemed a bit different, he had to set the stage so that those around him would rationalize it on their own: 'Ah, now that he's become the head, he's changing himself!'
Therefore, he couldn't utter even a single word carelessly. Of course, this might have been excessive caution, but it stemmed from Henry's personality—he was the type to break even stone bridges before crossing them—and his conviction that it wouldn't be too late to change his attitude after completely seizing control of the family.
That was why, even in the conversation with the butler just now, Henry had chosen every single word with refined, classical expressions. It was like mixing haoche and hageche, just as a son from a noble family during the Joseon Dynasty might have done.
After reviewing the conversation and confirming there had been no verbal slip-ups, Henry found himself lost in thought as he looked at the silver button on his desk.
'Intercoms should be sufficiently commercialized by now, yet they're still using a silver button. I'll have to completely renovate this house later... No, this isn't the time for such idle thoughts. Let's run through the conversation simulation again.'
Before long, a restrained knock sounded once more. The door opened, and Bart appeared carrying a silver tray from which steam was rising. A rich caffeine aroma spread throughout the study.
"I've prepared it just as you enjoy it, young master—without sugar and with just a touch of cream. The temperature should be perfect for drinking right away."
"Thank you. Don't just stand there—bring a cup for yourself and sit down. Let's talk while we drink."
Bart set down a thick bundle of documents in front of Henry with a gentle smile. Then he added a playfully sarcastic remark.
"I'm grateful for the thought, but I'll have to decline. While the master enjoys his coffee, someone has to organize the newspapers and check the next schedule. That's also why I receive a salary from this family. And these are the reports compiled so far regarding the plane accident."
"Talking about salary... Is that really something to say to someone who's protected our family for nine generations?"
"If we include Joshua, it's a full ten generations! That's the pride of our Kensington family. Henry, I've looked into it again, but... regrettably, this appears to have been a clear accident."
'Nice! Joshua, you've settled in very naturally!'
Henry cheered inwardly. This was the moment he confirmed that the bomb named Joshua had been beautifully planted in Bart's memories. Moreover, it naturally verified that the Henry just before the possession had ordered a thorough investigation into his parents' accident.
"I'll review the documents myself and we'll talk again. The reason I called you today is something else."
Henry set down his coffee cup and calmly brought up the main topic.
"The 'Heir Preservation Project'... How is the matter of securing the bloodline through a surrogate progressing?"
Even Henry himself thought this was a rather vicious tradition. [Family members must number two or more at all times.] A bizarre system born from the obsession with continuing the lineage at all costs.
"It is proceeding successfully. We have confirmed the implantation of the fertilized egg, and it is currently under isolated protection in a safe house in New Jersey. There will be no external exposure whatsoever until the birth."
'Wow, these old men are seriously terrifying. So there's a child of mine being cultivated somewhere in New Jersey without me even knowing?'
Listening to Bart's report, Henry rubbed the goosebumps on his arms and let out a small sigh. It was a cold-hearted project that had begun even before his parents' funeral, all for the sake of continuing the family line.
Henry suppressed his complicated feelings and changed the subject.
"I see... These past few days, I've been sitting in this room trying to understand the inherited assets, and it's more of a headache than I expected. As you know, I've never really paid much attention to this sort of thing. So let me ask—besides the trust assets that lawyer William Henrick brought, are there any other hidden assets that the family manages separately?"
"They're not large enough to truly call them assets, but there are offshore funds and some real estate in the Cayman Islands, the Bahamas, and Switzerland. I will reorganize the complete list and report it to you by tomorrow morning."
Henry felt a twinge of disappointment inside but calmed his emotions by taking a sip of his cooling coffee.
'Looks like there's almost no slush fund. Well, I wouldn't even know how to do money laundering like they show in movies anyway. For a beginner like me, it's much cleaner and easier to manage when everything's this transparent.'
"Mm, I see. We'll talk about the rest after I receive the list. Understanding comes first. And while I'm cooped up in this room, I need to know what's been happening in the world. Starting today, have all the major newspapers and magazines brought in, including The New York Times. Oh, and that whiskey I drank last night was quite good, but I can't remember the name. Send up a bottle this evening."
"That would be the Macallan 25 Year. Understood. I will inform the head maid."
Without waiting to confirm that Bart had left the room, Henry immediately flipped open the documents before him. He was curious about the final moments his body's parents had faced.
'An accident caused by sudden bad weather... Let's see. They descended to a low altitude to avoid a record-breaking low-pressure storm, only to collide with a flock of migratory birds also trying to avoid the typhoon, which caused the engines to burn out? Then crashed into the sea off Long Island?'
The various figures and data clearly explained that this incident had been an unavoidable disaster given the technology of the time.
Henry sipped his coffee, soothing his hollow heart. In his previous life, he hadn't even had family to feel attached to, yet the memories of these people whose faces he'd never seen remained in his head. It felt strangely uncomfortable.
'It's something I can't change, so I'll accept it and move on. But why did those people, who rarely even left Manhattan, go all the way to England?'
The question remained, but he decided to set it aside for now. Henry took out the trust documents from the desk drawer and pushed the accident-related files into their place. He now intended to examine the roughly skimmed asset list in detail.
'I've got a spare life now. Time to start making some moves. Let's hit the top spot on Forbes and really enjoy this life to the fullest! But... there's way too much to study. Fuck... If I'd studied like this back in my senior year of high school, I would've gotten into Seoul National University.'