CH30

"CEO, it's getting quite dark."

"Huh? Already?"

"Yes. It's almost closing time."

Sure enough, the arcade was nearly empty.

Some of the game machines were already turned off.

The owner was walking around, shutting down the remaining machines.

Scratching my head.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"No worries. I was also enjoying myself watching you have fun, CEO."

Just as I was about to suggest that we leave.

Step, step.

A small-framed Asian man walked into the arcade.

He was dressed in neat business casual attire.

Definitely not Korean.

He was probably Japanese.

He was carrying a large game poster and a few pamphlets.

Normally, I would have just ignored him.

"..."

But there was something familiar about his face, and I couldn't help but stare at him.

Staring openly like that is usually considered rude.

But since I was just an 11-year-old kid, he didn't seem to mind much.

The man looked around the arcade for a moment before spotting the owner and walking quickly over to him.

After exchanging a few words…

"No way, no. We're already full."

The owner flatly refused.

"Please, sir, just give our game a chance. The internal reviews have been great, and the board is cheap, so it's bound to be a hit…"

"If it's so fun, why are you out here pushing it so late at night? If it was really that good, orders would be flooding in on their own."

"It's just… we don't have much of a budget for promotion, so despite the game quality, sales have been…"

Even though it was a short exchange in English, I could get the gist of the situation.

The Japanese man was here on a sales pitch, and the arcade owner was rejecting him.

Hmm.

'Where have I seen that guy before?'

Has my memory really declined this much after becoming an 11-year-old?

Scratching my head.

'I don't think I'll remember anytime soon.'

There's nothing I can do about it.

Might as well head home for now.

I turned my attention back to the translator and said.

"It's gotten pretty late. Sorry about that. Let's head back."

***

The next morning.

After a call with Jo Soo-deok, I headed to the hotel restaurant.

Jo Soo-deok was already seated, looking sharp in a suit.

"The job's done, so why the formal attire?"

"When reporting to the CEO, I must, of course, be properly dressed."

"But the report won't even take a minute."

"True professionals pour everything they have into that one minute."

He's impossible to win against when it comes to words.

"CEO, if you're hungry, we could eat first…"

"No, I'll get the report first."

"Ah, yes. Then I'll get right to it. Early this morning, Dürer's work arrived in Germany, and after confirmation from the headquarters, the final payment was deposited. With that, the Dürer matter is fully concluded."

"Excellent."

"I'll continue to handle everything excellently."

There it was again—that eager, golden retriever look.

Smirk.

"Ah, there's one more thing to report."

"…?"

"I met with that friend, Martin, yesterday. We had a conversation since I didn't want to just send him off…"

"What did you think?"

"He's quite an unusual fellow."

"Very unique, isn't he?"

"He also had some unusual conditions for hiring. Given that it would be difficult to find people under those conditions, I arranged interview schedules using more standard criteria."

"You're talking about the appraisal team, right?"

"Yes. I've used my network of professors to get recommendations for some good candidates… We should be able to form a team soon."

"I'm relieved you're on board, Professor."

"It's only natural to assist with the CEO's work."

Jo Soo-deok flashed another sly grin.

"Did you rest well yesterday?"

"Yes. I bought some speakers and played some games."

"Wow, sounds like a productive day."

"I'm planning to head out again after breakfast."

"Where are you going today?"

"Back to the game center."

"Oh, I see…"

Jo Soo-deok trailed off before speaking slowly.

"I'm surprised, though. I didn't expect you to enjoy games."

"Most kids my age love games."

"True, that's normal. But… you're quite special, CEO."

"Special? I'm just an ordinary student."

Third-generation chaebol, four-time literary award winner, and now someone who's earned 30 billion won—ordinary, my foot!

'Even I feel embarrassed saying it.'

Feeling a bit awkward, I quickly changed the subject.

"I'll be heading back to Korea as soon as the team is formed."

"So the main appraisals will be done in Korea."

"It's likely to take some time."

"Understood. I'll keep that in mind."

We then had a simple breakfast.

As usual, it was toast with butter, eggs, bacon… a typical hotel breakfast.

'Hmm.'

Maybe it's because I'm starting to miss home-cooked meals.

My family suddenly came to mind.

Eating hot soybean paste stew with kimchi…

Wait!

Before that… what?

'F-family?'

Even after all this time, that word still felt unfamiliar.

Ahem, I should just finish up and head to the arcade.

Feeling a bit shy, I kept poking at my bread with a fork.

***

At the same time, in Hannam-dong, Seoul.

Park Yong-hak was receiving a brief report from his chief secretary.

"Three hundred billion won?"

"Yes. It was confirmed to have been deposited into the young master's account today."

"What about taxes?"

"Schultz took care of them."

"Ha!"

Park Yong-hak looked out the window in amazement.

The dark garden outside seemed to quietly await the dawn.

"So you're telling me Ji-hoon sold the painting… and that tough German even paid the taxes?"

"That's correct."

"What kind of painting is it?"

"It's said to be Dürer's final work… It was held by an architect in Boston."

"So Ji-hoon bought the painting from this Boston architect?"

"Ah, well, it doesn't seem like he paid for it."

"…?"

"It looks like he traded video tapes… Yes, he brought video tapes from Korea and exchanged them for the painting."

The chief secretary quickly explained the baseball connection.

It was about the Boston Red Sox and Sun Dong-yeol.

"They say that the architect wouldn't budge even if you offered him money. Professor Jo Soo-deok was struggling when the young master brought the video tapes, and then…"

"And then everything went smoothly?"

"Exactly."

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"Apologies, but that's what we've found…"

"My goodness."

So, he took a few video tapes over there and brought back Dürer's painting.

And then he sold it for 30 billion won.

A young kid making even the Big 3 German companies desperate.

"But why hasn't that brat called?"

"Excuse me?"

"If he went all the way to the U.S., shouldn't he at least let us know he's okay?"

"Well, he's probably been busy with work…"

"What? Are you taking his side?"

The chief secretary glanced at the chairman, carefully observing his reaction.

Judging by the deeply furrowed brow, he seemed angry, but the corners of his mouth were stubbornly curled up in a grin.

Far from being angry, he actually looked delighted.

It was the face of a grandfather who was both proud of and eager to see his grandson, though he was pretending to be upset.

Of course, deep down, he was probably more pleased than anyone else.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Apologies. Shall I tell him to come back immediately?"

In response to the playful question.

"No need! Why would I praise a brat who didn't even bother to call?"

Chairman Park yelled, saying something he clearly didn't mean.

***

I stayed at the arcade until late.

I was trying to act like an immature kid, but…

Tap. Tap tap.

By now, I was actually enjoying myself.

I felt like I'd really become 11 years old again, just having fun.

If I could find games like "Wonder Boy" or "Final Fight," that would make it even better.

Sigh.

As closing time approached, the owner started turning off the machines one by one.

Maybe it's time to head back.

I was stretching my stiff body when…

'Huh?'

The Japanese man I saw yesterday came in again.

Dressed in business casual attire, holding the same pamphlets as the night before.

"Hello!"

He greeted loudly on purpose.

But it didn't make a difference.

The owner ignored him and continued cleaning.

"Sir, I made a special request to our headquarters in Japan. I personally ensured that they could supply the board at a special price just for this store…"

"Can't you see all the machines are already full?"

"Excuse me?"

"If I bring in your machine, I'll have to take something else out."

"..."

"Even if you gave it to me for free, I'd have to think about it, so why are you pushing me to buy it?"

The owner, who had raised his voice, suddenly seemed to remember I was there and softened his tone.

"We're closing, so you'd better head out."

"Ah, where's the broom? I'm from Japan, and I'm pretty good at cleaning."

"No need. I'll do it."

"At least let me help arrange the chairs."

I don't know for sure, but that Japanese guy will probably come again tomorrow.

Even though he knows it won't work… he'll keep coming back every day until the arcade takes in his game.

'Because there's no other way.'

I know exactly how he feels.

When I debuted but wasn't getting any requests for manuscripts, I would print out my novels and visit publishing houses without any appointments.

'I'm the author who just won the New Spring Literary Contest. I was hoping you could take a look at my novel.'

'Leave it here.'

But leaving it would just turn it into trash—they'd never even glance at it.

So I waited outside for hours until the editor came out for a smoke.

If you see someone enough times, they might eventually read your work.

It was a time when, despite all the effort, I had no choice but to rely on the goodwill of others.

Maybe it's because those memories came rushing back.

The scenes unfolding in front of me didn't feel like someone else's problem.

Hmm.

When I was a kid, I thought arcades were just happy places.

But now, I see they're places where salespeople come every night, bowing their heads.

"Sir, I'm really good at mopping."

"No, really. I'll do it."

As I was about to leave the shop, leaving the two arguing behind me.

Thud.

I heard a dull sound behind me.

Followed by a short groan.

"Oww…"

"See, I told you I'd do it. Ugh… Are you okay?"

When I turned around, I saw the Japanese man sitting on the floor, having fallen on his backside.

Red pamphlets were scattered all around him.

"I was trying to grab the mop… Ugh, I didn't mean to do that."

While the shop owner was helping the Japanese man up, I walked over to them.

It felt wrong to just pass by after seeing someone fall.

The pamphlets, now half-soaked from the mop water.

They reminded me of my unpublished manuscripts, discarded without being properly read.

I picked up a few of the pamphlets.

Not knowing what to do with them, I just held onto the wet papers.

In the center of the pamphlet.

"..."

There was a picture of a gorilla with a menacing face.

And underneath, printed in dot-matrix style letters.

"Arcade Classic Series."

"Donkey Kong."

What a cheesy name.

But that thought was quickly interrupted.

'Wait!'

What? Donkey Kong?

Startled, I looked for the company logo.

At the bottom of the pamphlet.

My eyes locked onto a specific line of text.

''NinTendo?'

Indeed, at the edge of the pamphlet, in small print, was the phrase "Nintendo America."

TL/n - 

You can read up to chapter 58 in advance by supporting me at p@treon.com/inkbound 

(replace @ = a)