Chapter 460: There Might Not Be a Next Meeting

As conversations flowed, President Yoon Chang-ho entered the banquet hall. Upon seeing this, Powell spoke up.

"I'll be heading over to that table now. I'll likely be in the U.S. before the year ends, so let's continue our discussion then."

"Sounds good. I'll wait for you in the U.S."

Powell stood up from his table and moved over to where Medvedev was seated.

That table was filled with congratulatory delegations from countries friendly to Russia.

"Chairman Medvedev."

Medvedev turned his head, having been engaged in conversation with others.

A bright smile spread across his face.

"Ah, Boss Kim. I've been waiting for you."

"May I sit beside you?"

"Of course, please take a seat."

Medvedev, speaking warmly, even pulled out a chair for me himself.

I smiled as I took a seat next to him.

At that moment, the people at the table turned to look at me.

With everyone's gaze on me, Medvedev introduced me.

"Let's greet him. This is a businessman from Korea."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Kim Mu-hyeok. If my name is hard to pronounce, feel free to call me Charlie."

Foreigners often struggled to pronounce my name.

Rather than awkwardly hearing it mispronounced, I found it easier to provide an alternative foreign name.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Mwamba Kabadi from Congo."

"Are you referring to the Democratic Republic of the Congo or the Republic of Congo?"

"The Democratic Republic of the Congo."

The Democratic Republic of the Congo was a country rife with corruption and lacking Western aid, leaving it devoid of much value.

I concealed my true thoughts and managed a gentle smile.

"It's a pleasure. As the chairman mentioned, I run a small business in Korea."

"What kind of business do you run?"

"I engage in various money-making enterprises."

"…You do anything for money, huh? Are you perhaps a war profiteer?"

"Not at all. I only engage in legitimate businesses."

Mwamba scrutinized me from head to toe.

His tone subtly hinted at disdain, as if he was looking down on me.

People who didn't know my true identity typically reacted this way, seeing me merely as a businessman.

Perhaps because he was someone who had seized power in a dictatorial state, his behavior seemed more pronounced.

I wanted to loosen the tension in my shoulders, but provoking a conflict wasn't necessary.

Unlike me, who merely smiled, Medvedev appeared uncomfortable.

"Hey, Mwamba, Minister."

"Yes, Chairman."

Mwamba's expression suddenly shifted, losing its earlier arrogance, showing almost servility toward Medvedev.

"What are you doing right now?"

Medvedev furrowed his brow, and Mwamba looked at him with a confused expression.

"Boss Kim is not someone you can treat that way. In Russia, there are individuals more important than your Congolese government."

Medvedev's usual smooth demeanor took on a strong tone, which was uncharacteristic of him.

Mwamba glanced back and forth between Medvedev and me, clearly flustered.

"Excuse me? What do you mean by that…?"

"This is your last warning. Show some respect, Minister Mwamba."

It felt like I might draw unwanted attention from this man.

Sensing the atmosphere was turning awkward, I decided to intervene.

"Chairman Medvedev, I'm really fine."

"I'm not fine. This is a matter of respect. I invited Boss Kim to sit here as my guest, and yet you treat him like this."

Medvedev spoke firmly before he turned back to Mwamba.

"Minister Mwamba, isn't your country just beginning to stabilize after a civil war? If the foreign minister of such a government behaves rudely, how will others perceive it? They won't think of it as a normal nation. Am I wrong?"

"What do you mean? No matter who it is, I can't just let that comment slide, even if it's Chairman Medvedev."

"What happens if you don't let it slide?"

Medvedev stared at Mwamba with cold eyes.

Mwamba appeared momentarily at a loss for words, his lips moving before he eventually replied slowly.

"…I will formally protest to the Russian government."

"Go ahead. If you do, the moment I return to the Kremlin, I will reevaluate all support to Congo."

Medvedev mentioned that the Democratic Republic of the Congo had recently faced a severe civil war.

No, it wasn't merely a civil war; it had gone through an African version of a world war.

Ten African nations had engaged in battle centered around Congo, resulting in over four million casualties.

Yet, barely anyone recognized the seriousness of the situation.

Unlike the small disputes unfolding in Europe at the same time, where the UN and the U.S. intervened, no one acted decisively here.

This situation vividly demonstrated how isolated Congo was from the outside world, revealing the harsh reality of the international community.

It took the emergence of countless refugees and casualties for the UN to take action, but there were hardly any tangible results.

Even now, rebel forces were still sporadically active.

"Reevaluate? You can't just say that suddenly. Didn't you already make a promise?"

"I haven't signed the investment contract yet, so it's always subject to change, isn't it?"

"Why are you doing this? The moment I report back to the president, my life is forfeit, Chairman."

Mwamba pleaded with a sorrowful look. Medvedev then turned his gaze toward me.

"Apologize. If you do, this will all be forgotten."

"…"

"Honestly, I'm fine. It's not like I'm someone who has to work with you or your country. It's just an African country, right? Besides, I doubt we'll meet again, so what does it matter?"

I smiled as I interrupted Medvedev.

Though my tone was gentle, I made it clear that I was mocking Mwamba.

This was like being insulted, so I couldn't say I felt good about it.

Hearing my words, Mwamba's expression became a mixture of confusion and anger.

At my reaction, Medvedev shook his head and sighed.

"Minister Mwamba, you should know you've just squandered an excellent opportunity. You let slip a businessman who could invest in Congo. All because of your pathetic authority."

"…What kind of business do you run that Chairman Medvedev is going this far for?"

"Beyond business, he's a friend of Russia. Think about how you treated someone like that. I cannot overlook it."

Mwamba's eyes widened in disbelief. He looked at me with a stunned expression.

I stared back at him without any emotion as he bit his lip nervously.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I've never received good treatment from businessmen before, so I made a mistake. Please forgive me."

"It's fine."

"Please… Accept my apology. This is crucial for the future of our country."

His sincere apology left me pondering how to respond.

Glancing subtly at Medvedev, I noticed the corners of his mouth rising.

This guy… He must be using me to dominate Mwamba.

Of course, I was genuinely upset, but I assumed he welcomed the opportunity.

In the end, I looked back at Mwamba and said, "I'll accept it."

"Thank you."

Mwamba bowed his head once more.

When he raised it, he now fixed a desperate gaze on Medvedev.

Medvedev, feigning defeat, nodded back.

"Support for Congo will remain unchanged."

"Thank you. Thank you!"

Mwamba looked at Medvedev with a face of someone who had just been born again, bowing continuously.

Only then did the previously tense atmosphere at the table begin to settle down.

"Hello, I'm Yoon Chang-ho."

At that moment, Yoon Chang-ho began to address the microphone at the podium.

All the attendees, who had been engaged in conversation, shifted their attention to Yoon Chang-ho.

"I've officially commenced my presidential duties today. Thanks to all esteemed guests from various nations who have gathered here, my inauguration ceremony has shone brightly. Thank you, everyone."

Yoon Chang-ho's brief greeting painted smiles on the attendees' faces.

When he finished speaking, the attendees responded with applause.

Yoon Chang-ho, stepping down from the podium, was the first to approach Powell and the representatives from the U.S. side.

"Boss Kim, I was rather uncertain when you mentioned that Yoon Chang-ho would become president. At the time, he didn't seem remarkable enough for that."

As the surroundings buzzed with excitement again, Medvedev leaned over and spoke to me quietly.

I could only smile in response. I was the one who had turned Yoon Chang-ho into a 'person.'

I had made him the Prosecutor General and helped him debut in politics.

I had also founded the Moderate Party, and ultimately, I had raised him to the presidency.

Had Yoon Chang-ho never met me, could he have become president?

No, he would have likely just faded away in the original history.

"But you know, Boss Kim, the fact that Yoon Chang-ho eventually became president like you wanted… I'm quite astonished."

"I got lucky. The man has great potential himself. I provided support, but if a person lacks charm, they cannot earn the people's favor, can they?"

"That's true. Even so, the fact remains that you made it happen."

Mwamba, unable to understand our conversation in Russian, watched us with a blank expression.

Others also cast curious glances at us as we exchanged quiet words.

"Let's save this talk for later; the setting isn't ideal."

In the distance, I could see Yoon Chang-ho approaching our table.

When he arrived, everyone at the table stood up.

Yoon Chang-ho flashed me a knowing glance as he smiled and shook hands with Medvedev.

"Chairman Medvedev, thank you for attending. Given the circumstances, let's plan some time later to discuss things in detail."

"Of course. Korea is one of the countries that maintains a close relationship with Russia, so how could I not attend?"

"Thank you just for your words. We also wish to maintain a good relationship with Russia."

"That's only natural."

Amidst the friendly atmosphere, Yoon Chang-ho exchanged greetings with Medvedev before moving on to greet the others.

He couldn't spend too much time with everyone. He had to greet all the tables.

After visiting each table to extend his greetings, Yoon Chang-ho headed downstairs to the first floor.

Now it was time for the conference to begin.

The announcements stated that the discussions would progress in the order of the U.S., Russia, China, and then Japan.

Medvedev headed downstairs to meet with Yoon Chang-ho for the conference.

Seizing this opportunity, Mwamba approached me.

"It seems you have a close acquaintance with the President of Korea."

There was a noticeably cautious tone in his voice, and I responded with a smile.

"Does it appear that way? I was a university senior and junior to the President. We've had quite a long connection."

"Is that so? I wasn't aware of that."

"Haha, it's a bit of an obscure story. By the way, I didn't expect to attend the inauguration of the President of Korea from Congo. I thought you were a long-time friend of North Korea."

"Not at all. President Mobutu handled everything unilaterally."

Mwamba waved his hand quickly. He was attempting to mitigate my feelings, making his efforts amusing.

"Is that so? I didn't know that."

"It's only natural you wouldn't know, as not many understand the dynamics within Congo. Since President Laurent Mobutu was ousted, many things have changed. Unfortunately, due to an unexplained assassination, he lost his life. However, his son inherited the presidency and ended the war. He will make Congo a wealthy nation."

I recalled the memories of Congo once more.

No matter how much I thought, I could only remember it as a land rich in mineral resources.

I was particularly aware of the heavy fighting among warlords over diamonds.

Rare earth elements must also be abundant. I recalled that most coltan was deposited in Congo.

Although I'd considered it a hassle to get involved, it seemed I needed to revise my thoughts slightly.

"If that's the kind of leader you're talking about, I'm intrigued. After all, a nation's fortune is determined by its leadership."

"Exactly. President Joseph is a rational person. Soon we will have democratic elections in Congo. He will be elected president."

Seeing Mwamba filled with conviction, I asked in a low voice, "Minister, would you facilitate a meeting with the President?"

"Are you saying you wish to invest in Congo?"

"I'll make that decision after meeting him. I'm a businessman. I invest wherever there's a good return."

I noticed Mwamba swallowing hard. Soon he nodded emphatically.

"I will personally ensure the meeting with the President happens."

"Sounds good."

I took out my business card wallet and handed him a card.

"Here's my business card. Please contact me once the meeting with the President is arranged. If all goes well, I'll reward you properly."

The card I handed Mwamba was made of real gold.

Mwamba's eyes widened in astonishment at the golden card, darting between it and me.

I intentionally let a confident smile slip as I continued speaking.

"I have quite a large hand. If I put my mind to it, I can make an investment much larger than you expect. Be sure to relay that to the President."