InkBound
patreon
CH197
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 06:32:01 +0000 UTCMcClaren Headquarters, UK.
The Duke of Grosvenor quietly looked down at the acquisition contract.
McClaren had been rewriting F1 history with its best-ever performance. However, despite their dominant results, the acquisition price wasn’t particularly high.
Compared to Ferrari, they couldn’t boast much in terms of legacy. Moreover, their current performance was entirely due to Grosvenor’s massive investments. If the Grosvenor family pulled out, the results would undoubtedly plummet. Thus, in this deal, Grosvenor held all the power.
“As the acquisition cost is low, we’ll double the operating budget.”
“W-What?”
The team principal’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Even now, they were receiving the highest level of investment in the industry. And now, they were being told it would be doubled.
“Since a machine bearing the Grosvenor emblem will be on the track, shouldn’t it naturally be half a lap ahead of the rest?”
“Oh, of course! Naturally, it should be…”
“We’ll aim to break the record at every event we enter.”
“Every… event?”
“If doubling it isn’t enough, we can increase the budget threefold.”
That also implied that salaries and bonuses would be doubled.
Perhaps that’s why…
“New records in every competition! I’ll make it happen!”
The McClaren team principal’s eyes gleamed with fierce determination.
***
Meanwhile…
Song Su-hee had a very busy day. Unexpected guests kept showing up.
“This is the residence of CEO Park Ji-hoon, correct?”
The visitor was a man from the British embassy. Though he was Caucasian, he spoke fluent Korean.
“The deputy mayor of Liverpool has requested a meeting. I apologize for the inconvenience, but we came to visit in person.”
Behind him stood a tall man. As explained, he appeared to be the deputy mayor.
“Nice to meet you.”
As the deputy mayor bowed his head, the embassy staff added,
“It seems that several facilities related to CEO Park Ji-hoon are being built in Manchester. Because of that, Liverpool would like to discuss something as well.”
“He’ll be in the UK soon, so why come all the way to Korea?”
The staff couldn’t provide a clear answer.
Was it because of urgency? Or perhaps they thought coming all the way to Korea would make it harder to decline?
Well…
Since they’d come such a long way, Song Su-hee had no choice but to invite them in.
“You might have to wait quite a while…”
“We don’t mind.”
“Then I’ll guide you to a private room.”
That wasn’t the end of it.
“We meet again.”
The same embassy staff awkwardly smiled and spoke.
“Have you heard of the Italian designer brand, Versace?”
“Of course.”
It’s the luxurious brand with the Medusa head logo.
“Well… the designer himself is here.”
Song Su-hee’s eyes widened in surprise.
Gianni Versace.
The most prominent designer from Italy came all the way here just to meet Ji-hoon?
Perhaps it was because Song Su-hee worked in the arts herself, but this visit felt entirely different from when the deputy mayor of Liverpool had come.
It was as though she could now truly feel the full extent of her son’s growing reputation.
“Buongiorno.”
When Song Su-hee greeted them in Italian, the designer spread his arms wide and responded with a bright smile.
As if to say ‘Buongiorno!’ with just that one expression.
A smile that seemed to say the long flight had finally been worth it.
“You must be tired after such a long journey. Would you like to come in and wait?”
Her broken Italian caused the designer’s face to light up with emotion once again.
“I was worried about coming here without notice, but being received with such hospitality… It’s truly an honor.”
And even after that, the doorbell kept ringing.
Every visitor, without exception, was there to see Park Ji-hoon.
In her room, while waiting for her son, Song Su-hee sat at her desk, working on tasks for the cultural foundation.
The report before her was filled with details about their first sponsored artist, Yoo Seon-ho.
Despite sufficient support, results had been slow to materialize.
The reason? Apparently, he had to take care of a child.
Yet, she found it difficult to criticize after seeing the mural painted by that child.
Even in a small photo, the sheer aura of the artwork was striking.
She couldn’t help but wonder how impressive it would look in person.
She immediately picked up the phone.
“Please increase the support so that Yoo Seon-ho can focus entirely on his work.”
(Understood.)
“And…”
(…Yes?)
“Set aside a separate budget for Jude, the child he’s caring for. Ensure that it’s provided without any interference or conditions. Just pure support. Got it?”
(Yes, we’ll handle it accordingly.)
After the call ended, Song Su-hee turned her attention to the stack of portfolios on her desk.
Perhaps it was because of her son’s success with Ultimate and the huge impact he had made in the fashion industry.
Now, even international artists were eager to collaborate with the Hyungang Cultural Foundation.
In particular, applications for the fashion design sector had increased by an astounding 500 percent.
The mountain of documents on her desk was proof of that.
‘Even if I go through all of this… more will just keep coming, won’t it?’
It was great news for the company, of course.
But from the perspective of the ‘director’ who had to handle all this work, it was enough to leave her breathless.
‘Stop complaining. You’re lucky to have this problem.’
Recalling the past when their foundation was dismissed as ‘only fit for domestic matters,’ she found new motivation.
Just as she was about to pick up another document—
Knock, knock.
“The chairman has returned home.”
A voice called out from beyond the door, bringing a welcome sense of relief.
***
“Father, you’re ho—oh?”
Mom turned to look at me with a surprised expression.
And it was no wonder.
“W-What happened?”
Her reaction was understandable—after all, I had come in carrying my brother on my back.
But Grandpa simply waved his hand, as if telling everyone not to make a fuss.
“He’s just a bit drunk.”
“Goodness, how much did you drink…?”
“Just three glasses. Why?”
At that point—
“…”
Mom didn’t really have anything to say.
“Looks like he takes after me.”
“Not being able to drink is fine, but passing out? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
I quietly made my way upstairs.
The staff offered to help, but this was nothing I couldn’t handle.
After carefully laying my brother down on his bed, Mom came in and turned off the lights, speaking as she did.
“What’s with the sudden drinking?”
“No idea. Said he was teaching me how to drink responsibly or something.”
“And you’re okay?”
“I don’t feel any different.”
“Are you really okay?”
“Yes. As you can see.”
Mom’s expression shifted slightly as she changed the subject.
“We had some foreign guests today.”
Hearing the word ‘guests,’ I briefly wondered if it was Tennessee, but…
Instead, she started listing unexpected names one after another.
It seemed they had traveled all the way here to make sure we couldn’t say no.
‘If I give in just because they came from afar, that disqualifies me as a businessman.’
If they want something, they should show a compelling vision or guarantee profitability. Trying to appeal to emotions in such a half-hearted way only highlights their lack of capability.
“Most of them said they’d return tomorrow, but there’s one person still waiting.”
Apparently, they’d been waiting for six hours.
“They’re in the private room?”
Mom seemed worried that the guest might have been drinking and insisted on accompanying me to the room.
Perhaps it was the cold night air, but whatever little buzz I had left quickly faded.
It was then—
“Ji-hoon.”
Mom called my name in a calm voice.
Her tone was markedly different from before.
“Can we have a talk when you have time?”
“A talk?”
“Not as mother and son, but as the director of the Hyungang Cultural Foundation and the CEO of JH. I have something to discuss.”
My mom—a Seoul University graduate and a remarkable talent in her own right.
Had she been able to fully dedicate herself to her career instead of being my father’s wife, she would have left a significant mark in the art world.
And now, for the first time, she wanted to discuss work with me!
“You can talk now.”
“Hm?”
“I’m curious. If it’s not something too long, I’d like to hear it right away.”
Mom hesitated briefly, considering whether to proceed, but soon seemed to make up her mind and spoke firmly.
“I want to introduce the artists supported by our foundation to the global stage. I was thinking—what if we partnered with Oxford Street or a major London department store for this purpose?”
It wasn’t just about finding a place to exhibit the works.
Since the facilities I’d built naturally attracted public attention, showcasing the artworks there would undoubtedly have a significant promotional effect.
“Not just fine art—recently, we’ve been supporting a lot of fashion designers too. There are so many artists I’d love to introduce, even in a pop-up format.”
“So, you’re suggesting we form a partnership?”
Mom nodded more decisively than ever before.
“And if the partnership is established, what’s in it for me?”
“You’ll receive a steady stream of artists who have been vetted and nurtured by Hyungang. JH can maintain its unique talent pool while gaining deeper artistic value.”
That wasn’t all.
“We’ll cover the venue rental fees and share the profits, so there’s no risk of JH taking a loss. I can promise you that.”
She presented a clear vision while ensuring that the financial aspects weren’t overlooked—a perfect pitch.
“Impressive.”
“Really?”
“Shall we draft the contract right away?”
“Ji-hoon, you’re not saying this because you’re drunk, right?”
Come on, I told you I’m perfectly fine.
Mom looked overjoyed.
The Hyungang Cultural Foundation was a project she had been directly involved in since its inception.
It was clear she had a deep personal attachment to it.
Grin.
Anyway, talking about business like that made the walk to the private room feel shorter than I expected.
“By the way, Mom.”
“…?”
“Who exactly is waiting for me right now?”
“Good evening.”
A Japanese man who looked to be in his late 30s greeted us.
Naturally, I assumed he was someone from the fashion industry.
But then, what’s this?
The business card he handed over had the company name ‘MEGA’ and the title ‘Development Team 1 Leader, Satoshi.’
MEGA?
That’s one of Japan’s leading game companies, known for developing (or set to develop) those super-fast hedgehog games, right?
But why would someone busy making games come all the way here to see me?
Perhaps noticing my puzzled expression, Satoshi cautiously began to speak.
“We wanted to hear your thoughts on something… I apologize for visiting without an appointment.”
Judging by his tone, it seemed like there was indeed a problem with their company.
‘Are they hoping for an investment?’
I kept my expression neutral and waited for him to continue.
“We were planning a next-generation 16-bit console…”
Ah, I know exactly what he’s talking about.
The SEGA Drive—
It was the world’s first 16-bit game console, boldly entering the market.
But unfortunately, it ended up as the runner-up, overshadowed by the Super Famicom with its superior specs!
‘Wait a second.’
If I recall correctly, the SEGA Drive sold decently at first, thanks to its title as the first-ever 16-bit console.
But in this timeline, history has changed—
The Super Famicom was released earlier than expected, robbing them of the “first 16-bit console” title altogether.
Hmm.
It was already a tragic console to begin with.
And now, not only is the release delayed, but the specs are also inferior.
‘If they release it like this, the company might actually go bankrupt.’
As I mulled over the situation, Satoshi spoke again, this time with a heavier tone.
“Upgrading the console’s performance would take at least two more years. By then, our competitors would have completely dominated the market. Yet, if we release it with the current specs, we won’t stand a chance.”
I get what he’s saying.
But why come to me?
Do they want an investment?
Or do they want exclusive rights to release JH games on their console?
Then—
“We want consulting.”
Satoshi’s unexpected statement caught me off guard.
“Every business you’ve touched has been a massive success. Once or twice could be a coincidence, but when it happens repeatedly, it’s no longer chance—it’s skill.”
So they’re saying they want to pay for consulting services?
“Please give us just two hours of your time. As for the consulting fee… it’s modest, but we can offer up to 1 billion KRW.”
One billion won, huh.
It’s not even close to my target of 1 trillion, but…
Well, even dust can pile up into a mountain, right?
‘As an hourly rate, it’s not bad.’
Having made up my mind, I asked Satoshi,
“So, what exactly do you want to know?”
