CH47

That night.

As soon as I returned home, I was summoned by Chairman Park.

Chairman Park was sitting at his desk, wearing a brown cardigan.

Every time I step into his study, I can't help but feel like I'm sticking my head into a tiger's mouth.

"You called for me?"

"Did you get some fresh air for the first time in a while?"

"Yes."

"Was it productive?"

Why would you measure productivity by just getting some fresh air?

I scratched my head.

'So now every time I go out, it's treated like business.'

It's a warning sign, but fortunately, I had plenty to say today.

Why?

Because I did everything that might seem ridiculous to Chairman Park!

Thanks to that, I could speak more confidently than usual.

"I'm planning to start a publishing company."

"A publishing company? Why?"

"I want to create the books I want to read myself."

"Ha!"

He looked incredulous.

That's a good start!

"So, I visited Yonsei University."

"And why there?"

"I'm planning to hold a literary competition."

"Why did you go to Yonsei for that? Are you only accepting submissions from there?"

"Yes, for now."

Then, a strange glimmer appeared in Chairman Park's eyes, which had been filled with discontent.

After a moment, he spoke.

"Out of all the places, you went to Boston, and now you're picking Yonsei University?"

Ah, he finds it odd that I chose Yonsei out of all universities?

'His intuition is sharp as ever.'

But there's no need to panic.

I had a prepared answer.

"If I make it nationwide, it'll be too much to handle. We might get thousands of entries at once, which would be too hard to judge."

"So, you plan to go from one university to another like a roadshow?"

"If I can manage it."

"And the prize money?"

"For Yonsei, it's ten million won."

Smirk.

Chairman Park raised the corners of his lips at my response.

"Looking at the money, it seems like this might be a one-time thing. Am I wrong?"

"Well, we'll see."

Chairman Park's intimidating gaze is enough to ensure I'll have to do it a few more times.

I decided to subtly advance the conversation to change the subject.

"After wrapping up the competition at Yonsei, I went straight to Seoul National University. Thanks to my diligence, I secured a contract. I met with author Lee Moon-hyuk."

"You signed a contract?"

"Yes."

"Do you have the contract?"

Nod.

"Bring it here."

A moment later.

Chairman Park put on his glasses and meticulously reviewed the document.

<Five billion won advance.< p>

Construction of a creative village for writers, and creation of a creative fund.

Investment in the translation of foundational academic texts.>

The contract was full of content likely to get me scolded.

Sure enough.

"Is this some kind of charity work you're doing?"

I clenched my fists at Chairman Park's reaction.

"Five billion won advance?"

"Yes."

"How much do you expect to make from selling books to justify giving five billion upfront?"

"I'd say around ten billion won, maybe?"

"Do you have any basis for that?"

"With a proven story like The Romance of the Three Kingdoms combined with top-notch writing…"

"Isn't that just your wishful thinking?"

"Is it?"

Chairman Park furrowed his brow in silence.

He knew that his grandson wasn't one to talk nonsense.

His expression suggested he was wondering what scheme I was up to.

But his reaction didn't last long.

"In that case, do this."

"Excuse me?"

"Partner with a major newspaper and serialize it there first."

"In a newspaper?"

"Newspapers are where people pay to place ads. If it's serialized there, it'll automatically get promoted, and the monthly manuscript fees can cover the advance. At the very least, you won't lose money."

A man who likely never even considered the publishing business in his life.

But the way he analyzed the situation and provided a solution right after reading the contract was… well.

'There's no outdoing him when it comes to making money.'

While I was admiring him, Chairman Park adjusted his glasses.

"The advance is one thing, but what's with the creative village and fund… fine, I'll let that slide as an investment. But what's this?"

"…?"

"Do you really plan to translate foundational academic texts?"

"Oh, that."

"Are you the Minister of Education?"

His eyes flashed with intensity.

He could tolerate many things, but wasting a single penny? That, he wouldn't forgive.

What else could I do?

I had to tell the truth.

"Grandfather, I was reading a Greek classic, and the book description said it was a double translation from the Japanese edition. That bothered me."

"How many Greek language experts do you think we have in a country where people are just trying to make a living?"

He had a point.

With so few experts in Greek, translating the original text was almost impossible.

But Japan had consistently been investing in what seemed impossible at a national level.

After stubbornly persisting in what might seem like a foolish, unprofitable effort, Japan produced 31 Nobel laureates in foundational academic fields, while Korea had seen no such success.

While Korean music topped the Billboard charts, Korean films swept the Oscars and Cannes, and Korean dramas and webtoons rose to fame,

Korean foundational academic research received poor marks year after year.

The reason was simple.

"Japan translates books even if they seem obscure, as long as they have academic value. But we do the opposite. Even books that should be widely known aren't introduced."

And even when translations exist, most of them are double translations from Japanese versions.

How can we possibly compete academically?

"So, you're saying you want to improve the nation's prestige with your own money?"

"It's not charity work."

"Then what is it?"

"It's a type of investment."

"Investment?"

"Yes. We're a resource-poor nation, so our only asset is human resources. We have no choice but to invest in people."

"And what do you expect to gain from investing in people?"

"Hyungang will benefit from having more highly skilled individuals joining."

"You think importing a few books will change people?"

"If it had no effect, Japan would have stopped long ago, don't you think?"

"They've been preparing for decades. Do you really think we can catch up by just starting now?"

"Of course. Didn't you feel the same way, Grandfather?"

"…What?"

"In the industry, they say the gap between Sonus(Sony) and Hyungang is about 30 years. If it's a ten-year gap, it's already tough, but 30 years? That's practically a done deal. But you think differently, don't you? No matter what anyone says, you keep fighting. Like a bull."

Chairman Park's eyes narrowed at my words.

You dare touch on that sensitive topic?

How audacious.

Something like that, probably.

Sure enough, Chairman Park slowly began to speak.

"Even if I agree that Hyungang will benefit, why should you use your money? Foundational academic texts? That's the government's job."

"But the government is dragging its feet. It's an upfront investment without immediate results, so they keep delaying it."

"So, you're saying that if the government steps in, you'll gladly step aside?"

"Of course."

Without hesitation, Chairman Park picked up the phone.

Seeing how it connected with just one button, he was likely calling the Chief of Staff.

"Get me the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism. Tell them I want to meet tomorrow."

What did the other person say?

"Yes, Minister Kim Han-yong."

With a brief response, Chairman Park hung up the phone.

Then he looked me directly in the eye and spoke.

"I'll let the creative village and fund slide, but drop the foundational academic field."

"So, what will you do?"

"You didn't hear me?"

I did hear it.

"Even an 11-year-old can see the government is a mess, but they're too stingy with taxpayer money to do anything about it. They need to flip the table or something."

Money saved.

Grin.

Just as I was about to give my thanks and leave,

"Ji-hoon."

For some reason, Chairman Park called my name.

Then, for the first time, he rose from his chair.

Did he have something more important to say?

After a long pause, he spoke.

"Do you know why I'm doing this?"

"…Excuse me?"

"Do you think I'm doing this because I can't stand to see you lose money?"

"...."

"Listen carefully."

Suddenly, his eyes gleamed.

Gulp.

It felt like facing a predator in a dark forest with no moonlight.

Chairman Park continued in a growl.

"The most terrifying thing in the world is money. The closer you get to it, the more it tries to control you."

What is he trying to say?

"Money is like nature—it can never be conquered. You might ride a few small waves, but what happens if you try to take on a typhoon without fear?"

"You get swept away."

"Money is the same. If you try to control, dominate, or beat it, it'll end up devouring you."

"So, what should I do?"

"You should be afraid of it. Constantly remind yourself that if you try to solve everything with money, it'll eventually consume you. Do you understand why I'm telling you this?"

I silently looked at Chairman Park.

The predatory gleam in his eyes gradually faded.

At this moment, he was no longer the strict chairman scrutinizing a contract.

He was an old man worried about his grandson's well-being.

Maybe that's why.

"Thank you, Grandfather."

I said, as if making a vow.

Until now, I had always felt more comfortable with the title of Chairman Park.

Even though I had said it out loud in the past as if I were acting, this time, I felt like I had truly taken a step closer to being his grandchild.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Because of you, Grandfather, I saved some money. That makes me happy."

When I emphasized "Grandfather," he responded.

"Nonsense."

My grandfather waved me off.

"Go to bed already."

I bowed my head and slowly left the study.

As the day came to an end, the night felt unfamiliar.

A night in which I, who had been alone for 35 years, now had family.

***

Two weeks later.

For the past few days, TV had been emphasizing the importance of foundational academic research, and today, the minister himself held a briefing.

He announced that they wouldn't hesitate to invest in academic research for the future of South Korea.

He also promised not to allocate funds for trivial projects or throw research money at complacent professors as they had in the past.

Instead, the focus would be on nurturing specialized translators in each country, and they would move away from a results-oriented approach.

'I never thought I'd hear such a briefing in Korea.'

Naturally.

This was all thanks to Grandfather.

While Grandfather was busy doing his part for the country, I wasn't just sitting idle.

First, I secured an office for the publishing company near my home in Hannam-dong.

I also told Jung Jin-wook to find employee accommodations in Hannam-dong.

If Grandfather found out… wouldn't he scold me for spending so much?

Not at all.

He praised me for doing well.

Although I didn't buy the building with the intention of making a profit, Grandfather's philosophy was that buying property in Hannam-dong was a safe bet… ahem.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who came from the future.

Anyway.

Jung Jin-wook occasionally stopped by Yonsei University to pick up submissions for the literary competition.

Every time he did, he always added this comment.

"Boss, the Yonsei campus is covered in competition posters. I'm not exaggerating; it's practically wallpapered."

Was it the Dean of Student Affairs?

That guy had eagerly assured me that I could leave it to him, with a look that was downright overwhelming.

'He must have really gone all out.'

After Jung Jin-wook's visits, my desk would be piled high with submissions.

With a ten million won prize and posters plastered all over the place,

More entries would keep coming in.

I first checked the names of the entrants.

'Let's see if the name I'm looking for is here…'

As I sifted through more than a hundred works,

Huh?

What's this?

'Bong Joon-oh?'

A very familiar name was staring right back at me.

Could it be the same Bong Joon-oh who won both the Academy and Cannes awards?

I quickly opened the envelope, revealing a thick stack of manuscripts inside.