TOIGC 47

Chapter 47 …

The Sixth Sense (1)

“Interior architecture?”

At Andrew’s repeat question, Yoongi nodded again.

“Yeah. If we tried to cover the exterior as well, it’d probably clash too much with the surrounding buildings, so we’re keeping the outside looking like standard Korean commercial architecture. But since the interior is meant to cater directly to American clientele, I want something with a distinctly American feel. I’ve got architectural designers and interior specialists on my team already, but it’d be ideal to bring in one or two local American experts.”

“Finding an interior designer shouldn’t be too hard off the bat. Everyone’s scrambling for work right now because of the job market.”

True to Andrew’s words, America in the 1980s was suffering through a brutal economic slump driven by widespread unemployment.

Yet, just because people were desperate for jobs didn’t mean Andrew happened to have an interior specialist’s name sitting in his back pocket. Fortunately, Andrew had a fallback plan.

“I don’t know anyone offhand, but why don’t you ask the others you’re sponsoring? Interior design falls under architecture, so Lianna should be able to point you in the right direction.”

“Could you call her over?”

“Of course. She’ll probably come running at top speed. After all, look who’s paying for all of us to keep studying.”

Andrew grabbed the phone and dialed the office where Lianna worked.

A moment later, the sound of someone sprinting frantically down the hallway echoed through the corridor before the door flew open and Lianna rushed inside.

“Yoongi’s here?”

Lianna darted her eyes around the room before spotting Yoongi, blinking in utter astonishment.

“Whoa… You’ve grown so much.”

It seemed she had expected the little Yoongi of years past and was about to pull him into a hug, leaving her standing there with a flustered expression.

“Long time no see. How are your studies going lately?”

Yoongi spoke in exceptionally smooth English. Thanks to that, Lianna quickly shook off her initial shock and smoothly transitioned into conversation.

“Are you really Yoongi?”

“I am. Kids grow up fast, you know.”

“If I were ten years younger…”

As Lianna trailed off with a wistful look, Andrew scowled and narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t talk nonsense. Kid’s looks are good enough that even white girls would be circling him, let alone Asians.”

“An Asian’s gotta marry an Asian.”

At Lianna’s slightly disappointed remark, Andrew shook his head again.

“A handsome guy is destined to end up with a pretty girl.”

“You wanna die?”

Catching the underlying insult in Andrew’s words—namely, ‘you aren’t pretty’—Lianna shot him a murderous glare, while Andrew instinctively ducked behind Yoongi, who was shorter than him.

“Lianna noona isn’t dressed up because she’s busy studying, but if she actually styled herself, I’m sure she’d look incredible. Honestly, I think seeing someone so focused on their studies looks even better, though.”

At Yoongi’s compliment, a faint blush crept across Lianna’s cheeks.

In truth, Lianna wasn’t bad-looking at all. A Taiwanese-American, she featured thin dark eyebrows, a slightly sun-kissed complexion, and a long ponytail. Buried under endless academic stress as she was, with a bit of effort she could easily pull off a genuinely pretty look.

“Will you listen to this little pedophile—Gyaaaah!”

Snapping back to reality at Andrew’s teasing, Lianna lunged forward and grabbed both of Andrew’s sideburns, giving them a firm, merciless twist. In the middle of the chaos, Yoongi calmly slipped out from between them and addressed Lianna directly.

“Lianna noona, there’s something I wanted to ask.”

“Yeah?”

Still maintaining a death grip on Andrew’s sideburns, Lianna twisted her neck around to look at Yoongi.

“Aaaargh! Let go, just let go!”

“If you ever say something stupid like that again, I’m ripping them out by the roots.”

Faced with Lianna’s terrifying threat, Andrew stroked his abused sideburns and meekly slumped back into his chair, leaving Lianna and Yoongi to talk in peace.

“Sorry, sorry. What was it you wanted to ask?”

“Do you happen to know anyone who studied interior design but hasn’t been able to find a job?”

“Loads of people. The economy’s in the gutter right now. When I first started studying under your scholarship, I was bursting with confidence that I’d land a high-paying gig, but these days I’m seriously tempted to just beg for a job at one of your companies. It’s brutal out there.”

“Even Bill ended up dropping out to start his own company.”

“Ha… I heard about that. I’m so jealous. Apparently, he’s killing it…”

As Lianna sighed wistfully, Yoongi brought the conversation back on track.

“Out of all those ‘loads of people,’ is there anyone you’d specifically recommend for department store interior design? Just one or two top picks.”

“You looking to hire?”

“Yes. Naturally, I’d bring the recommendations in for an interview before making a final call, though.”

Lianna fell into deep thought.

Should I recommend a close friend, or should I recommend someone with actual talent…?

In today’s terrible job market, even Lianna’s closest friends were sweating bullets over employment, making her genuinely tempted to play favorites. But practical logic quickly overrode personal sentiment.

Asking me for a recommendation means my own reputation is tied to their performance. Finding a job is hard enough as it is, and if they somehow tank the interview and fail to get hired at Yoongi’s company…

Ultimately, Lianna chose to base her recommendation strictly on raw talent.

“There are about four people who come to mind.”

Yoongi raised a hand to pause her mid-sentence.

“They need solid experience, and they should value commercial viability over pure artistic flair. On top of that, it’d be great if they don’t hold racial prejudices. They’re going to have to live and work in Korea, after all.”

“Uh… Well, that leaves exactly one person.”

“Who’s that?”

“Um, but I’m a bit hesitant to recommend him…”

Seeing Lianna hesitate, Yoongi stepped half a step closer.

“Is there a problem with him?”

“Well… He has some minor mental health issues.”

“Mental health issues?”

“Yeah. He used to work at a firm called Gensler for about seven years, but his personality completely flipped at some point. He kept causing non-stop friction at work, suddenly got sucked into some weird religious cult… His talent is absolute gold, no question about it, but the guy changed so drastically that I’m not sure if I should be sending him your way.”

Gensler was a powerhouse architectural firm that would go on to rank as Los Angeles’s top firm by 2018 and the highest-earning practice globally by 2015.

While Yoongi had no way of knowing those specific future milestones, the fact that Lianna was recommending someone purely based on undeniable brilliance carried significant weight.

“Are the other three worse than him, then?”

Lianna offered a wry, bitter smile.

“One’s an outright racist, another has zero practical experience, and the last one is a total starving-artist purist.”

“What about people outside those four?”

A spark of amusement lit up Lianna’s eyes.

“They might lack a bit in raw skill, but they’re personal friends of mine, so there wouldn’t be any drama.”

However, Lianna’s subtle lobbying went nowhere.

“When you’re trying to make money, raw capability is always king. Can you introduce me to the guy with the mental issues?”

Looking slightly disappointed, Lianna gave a slow shake of her head.

“I’d love to introduce you, but acting as a bridge might be tough. Ever since he had his mental breakdown, I haven’t seen him, and he doesn’t pick up my calls anyway. Instead, I can give you his address, phone number, and name. Why don’t you try going to see him yourself?”

Figuring that an address counted as a form of introduction, Yoongi pressed further.

“Is his skill level really that high?”

“I heard the firm spent a small fortune covering his psychiatric hospital bills just to keep him functional.”

“Ah, then say no more. That proves it.”

In America, where medical bills were notoriously astronomical, a company actually footing an employee’s psychiatric expenses was the ultimate stamp of quality. Yoongi understood immediately—even on grueling manual labor sites, tales of American medical debt were legendary.

“So, do you want me to write it down?”

“Please do.”

“Sure, but fair warning—you’re going to have a rough time tracking him down.”

“I’m just planning to meet him first. If I think I can manage him, I’ll hire him; if it’s too much of a headache, I’ll look for someone else.”

“No, that’s not the real problem.”

Lianna’s expression suggested a complication far more severe than mere psychological quirks.

“Is there another issue?”

“Yeah. The guy currently lives in the state of Nevada.”

Harvard University is located in Cambridge, nestled on the furthest eastern edge of the United States.

Nevada, on the other hand, sits nearly on the western coast. To get there, Yoongi had to secure a military transport flight stretching literally from one end of the American continent to the other, since Nevada bordered San Francisco right on the western seaboard.

Even so, because his maternal grandfather was a U.S. Army brigadier general and General Guster was a former commanding general, Yoongi successfully arrived in Nevada via a free military hop without a single hitch—even if it took a little extra time.

[What? You’re going to Nevada all by yourself? Out of the question!] [America isn’t some safe little neighborhood like Korea. Listen to Colson. You scratch my back, I scratch yours—surely we can spare a little transport muscle for this?]

With Ryu Geun-tae and his other core associates buried under an avalanche of work back in Korea, this American trip was undertaken with Yoongi accompanied by a member of grandfather Choi Kihyun’s secretarial staff.

Yet a secretary could hardly double as a tour guide deep in the Nevada desert, meaning Yoongi was currently traveling under U.S. military escort toward the home of a man named Fernandez, as recommended by Lianna.

Of course, they weren’t riding in a military jeep; they were in a standard civilian sedan, and the two soldiers in the front seats were wearing plain clothes instead of uniforms.

This is unreal.

Yoongi clicked his tongue in awe as he gazed out at the endless expanse of desert terrain.

He had been amazed when he saw the endless cornfields with his grandfather in the past, but this desert wasteland took the scale to an entirely different level. At least cornfields offered sustenance—or at the very least, vegetation—whereas getting stranded out here in the middle of nowhere felt like a guaranteed death sentence.

<I Absolute America, High-rise I and away blown buildings came culture endless first land. of shock. to too. totally tracts was when>

Yoongi nodded internally at Deokbae’s remark.

It really is a country that keeps showing you something new every time you look. <If Grand Heungseon Heungseon’s Oppert Prince Such That a adopted bastard completely edge father’s foreign grave hadn’t have him into isolationism. loot might more much only open over policy. robbery shame. that the tipped to tomb, tried>

As Deokbae smacked his lips in lingering historical regret, Yoongi shrugged.

Maybe, but back then Joseon’s U.S. trade volume was sitting well below 0.1 percent anyway, so it probably wouldn’t have changed much. When you treat commerce with such utter contempt, you don’t exactly have anything to trade. <True America American Anyway, I I’m a around as back bothered but checking doing enough. ever feel ghost, grand hitched just like my never out ride since to tour. wandering was when you,> You want anything to eat later? <Buying food? me> Well, we are on an overseas trip, after all.

Noticing Deokbae mentally smacking his lips in anticipation, Yoongi smiled to himself.

A few hours later, the car stopped at a roadside rest stop for refueling and a quick break. True to form, Deokbae happily occupied himself with a miniature spiritual memorial spread, leaving Yoongi in peace.

“We’ll be heading out again now.”

The brief respite at the rest stop ended quickly, and the car resumed its high-speed trek toward their destination. It wasn’t until late into the night that they finally pulled up to the coordinates.

“Phew, we’re finally here. Never imagined people actually lived out in a place like this.”

Nevada wasn’t just flat desert; it featured plenty of rugged, mountainous terrain. Fernandez lived right at the foot of an alpine slope, tucked inside a solitary log cabin built against the mountain’s base. To make matters worse, there were no paved roads leading all the way to the cabin, forcing Yoongi and the soldiers to hike on foot for several dozen minutes through the dark.

“Is anyone even living out here?”

The sergeant, whose beard was so thick it bordered on a full bush, muttered doubtfully. The clean-shaven corporal shook his head.

“Hard to say. All the lights are off…”

Staring at the pitch-black windows of the log cabin, the sergeant, corporal, and Yoongi all found themselves looking past the front door toward the dark glass.

Absolute, unyielding darkness.

Yet Yoongi’s expression turned slightly perplexed as he relayed a mental thought to Deokbae.

G-Grandfather. Uh… I think I see a ghost. <You’ve now and at been me nonstop staring surprised? this time, whole you’re>