TOIGC 77

Chapter 77 …

A Unique Sales Pitch (3)

Why?

That single word was echoing endlessly inside Son Min-gwan’s head.

Why on earth did they call for me?

One moment he was clocking in at the construction site, and the next, he had been whisked away straight to the company president’s personal residence. Utterly clueless about what was happening, Min-gwan felt a cold shiver of genuine dread creeping up his spine.

Did something go wrong with the section I’m in charge of? I heard stories before about certain people getting hauled away by the military…

Since Min-gwan had been working at the Yaikai Department Store construction site for less than six months, he only knew about the whole Oh Jang-seon incident by rumor. That left him fretting anxiously until Ryu Geun-tae finally arrived, terrified that he might be next in line for a one-way ticket to a forced re-education camp.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Geun-tae pushed open the office door, looking sharp in a flawlessly tailored suit.

“Ah, good afternoon, sir!”

Min-gwan sprang up from his seat and bowed at a sharp ninety-degree angle—a posture that was nothing short of immaculate. At the same time, Geun-tae found himself feeling a flicker of pressure as he looked at the young man. To be precise, the pressure wasn’t coming from Min-gwan himself, but from the weight of the task ahead.

Can I really pull this off?

Yoongi naturally preferred to keep himself out of the public spotlight whenever possible, which meant this entire operation fell squarely on Geun-tae’s shoulders.

“Take a seat.” “Yes, sir.”

No sooner had the two of them sat down than an employee stepped into the room, placing a glass of cola on the table before quietly retreating.

“Coffee’s fine, but since it’s still a bit warm out, I figured cola would hit the spot. That alright with you?” “Yes! My throat was parched anyway.”

Min-gwan’s hand paused midway as he reached for the glass.

W-wait, ice?

The widespread commercial distribution of refrigerators had started accelerating rapidly right around the start of the 1980s. While refrigerator ownership sat at a meager one percent back in the seventies, it skyrocketed to ninety-five percent by 1986. But since it was still 1981, the transition was only halfway through, and Min-gwan had never actually laid eyes on ice frozen inside a standard home refrigerator before.

“Something the matter?” “Oh, no… I was just a bit mesmerized by the ice, that’s all. Did you buy it from somewhere?” “Hardly. We’ve got a fridge right over there in the kitchen, so why would I need to buy ice?”

Catching a glimpse of the refrigerator stationed in the kitchenette, Min-gwan swallowed hard as he gained a fresh, staggering appreciation for what true wealth looked like. If he ever found out that Geun-tae was merely a figurehead president and that all of this luxury was the direct result of absolute loyalty to a high schooler named Yoongi, Min-gwan would have likely passed out on the spot. Of course, the chances of him ever discovering that truth were close to zero.

“I was wondering how you found the company dinner last Sunday.” “Ah, yes. It was genuinely wonderful. I’ve worked at plenty of construction sites, but none of them ever threw a party like that. I had a fantastic time.” “I’m glad to hear it. I was a bit worried people might complain about us eating into their precious weekend.”

Min-gwan shook his head vigorously, insisting that couldn’t possibly be the case.

“Not at all. Everyone loved it. Most of us don’t really have anything special to do on our days off anyway…”

Realizing what he was about to say, Min-gwan clamped his mouth shut with a start. Geun-tae, however, didn’t bother to pick at the comment.

“Can’t be helped, I suppose. Unless you’re a skilled specialist like a forklift operator, a day laborer’s life is pretty much hand-to-mouth. You get paid a daily wage, so you don’t pay taxes and the base rate looks high, but if bad luck strikes and you don’t land a single day of work all month, you’re left living in constant anxiety.”

Struck by Geun-tae’s pinpoint accuracy regarding the harsh realities of their existence, Min-gwan offered an awkward, sheepish smile.

“Truth is… yes, that’s exactly how it is. People look at a daily rate multiplied by thirty and assume we’re pulling in a fortune, but the work simply isn’t there every single day.”

Moved by Min-gwan’s raw honesty, Geun-tae picked up a pack of cigarettes from the table and slid it forward.

“Care for a smoke?” “Ah, no thank you. I don’t smoke.” “Is that right?”

Geun-tae popped a cigarette between his lips and clicked a lighter. When the flame failed to catch, Min-gwan instinctively piped up with a warning note.

“Um, looks like you’re out of lighter fluid…”

A broad, knowing grin spread across Geun-tae’s face. He pulled the unlit cigarette back out of his mouth and tossed it back into the pack.

“Actually, I don’t smoke.” “Pardon?” “I was just testing you. Some of the guys at the construction site mentioned you were a smoker. So why’d you just tell me you didn’t?”

Min-gwan paused to think for a moment before offering an honest, unvarnished reply.

“Smoking right in front of someone of your standing felt a bit disrespectful, sir. Plus, seeing the pack sitting there on the table made me wonder if maybe you were a non-smoker yourself. After all, non-smokers generally aren’t fond of cigarette smoke.”

“You figured I didn’t smoke based on that?” “Well, people who smoke usually keep their cigarettes tucked away in their pockets. Finding an open pack just sitting out on the table felt a bit out of place.” “Quite the eye for observation. Figures, coming from an aspiring mystery novelist.”

“Oh!”

Min-gwan blinked in sheer astonishment.

“No need to look so shocked. Doing business requires connections, and digging up a bit of background info on you was child’s play. Word of it might have stayed quiet around the construction site, but finding a truly airtight secret in this world is next to impossible.”

Nearing his forties, Geun-tae was exuding an easy, seasoned authority that completely contrasted with Yoongi’s youthful composure, effortlessly keeping Min-gwan off-balance.

“I, I see.” “I actually read the novel you wrote, by the way. It wasn’t mainstream literature so you missed out on getting officially published, and the publishing houses turned it down, but I personally found it quite an entertaining read.”

The detail had been fed to him directly by Yoongi, who had also summarized the plot points for him, meaning Geun-tae didn’t know every minute twist of the story. Even so, hearing that someone of high status had tracked down his manuscript and actually enjoyed it hit Min-gwan with a wave of deep, lingering validation.

“You… you genuinely enjoyed it?” “I did. Getting published in the current Korean literary climate would be tough, but give it about ten years or so, once the public starts warming up to commercial fiction, and it’s got more than enough punch to sell well.”

“Ten years…”

Min-gwan let out a sigh mixed with equal parts hope and despair.

“The reason I called you in today is simple: your reputation around the construction site is stellar. In particular, people kept mentioning how exceptionally good you are at listening to what others have to say.”

Min-gwan quickly pulled his wits together, offering a somewhat subdued smile.

“What’s your reasoning behind doing that? If you were simply trying to earn extra cash, you wouldn’t need to go to such lengths. Surely you aren’t going to feed me some naive line about doing it purely out of the goodness of your heart?”

Cornered by the sharp observation, Min-gwan debated for a brief second before choosing absolute candor once again. Figuring there was no point in playing games when the man across from him seemed to know everything anyway, he laid his cards on the table.

“I do it because I believe it helps with my writing. Suspense and mystery novels live and die by their realism; if the dialogue of the characters feels completely disconnected from real life, the whole thing falls flat. The construction site turned out to be the ultimate place to meet a wide variety of people quickly and easily, which is why I approached it from that angle.”

“And matching your reactions to theirs was just a tactic to keep them talking?” “Pretty much. If you tweak their real-life experiences just a bit, they turn into fantastic material for stories.”

Geun-tae gave a slow nod, tapping his fingers together in quiet approval.

“Splendid.” “Th-thank you, sir.”

Though he bowed his head automatically, Min-gwan still didn’t have the slightest clue why Geun-tae was interviewing him like this. But that mystery was about to be cleared up immediately.

“How about I make you an offer you simply can’t refuse?” “Pardon?” “Let’s be straight with each other. You’re struggling financially, aren’t you?”

Min-gwan’s cheeks flushed red.

“Naturally. Between our construction site’s wages not being all that high, and the fact that you don’t even show up for work every single day…” “I have to find time to write my stories, so…” “Oh, no need to look defensive. Of course an aspiring writer has to write. With that in mind, I have a proposition for you. Our department store is currently in need of staff for the sales department, and you happen to show a remarkable talent for client relations. How about joining our sales team?”

“S-sales department? But…”

To ensure Min-gwan had zero room to turn the offer down, Geun-tae unloaded a barrage of heavy incentives.

“If you come work for the sales department, we’ll pay you a generous salary and provide a complimentary housing unit equipped with your very own refrigerator. No more boiling your drinking water on hot summer days while you’re struggling away at your writing. On top of that, we’ll set you up with a top-tier desk and chair to make writing as comfortable as possible.”

Min-gwan could distinctly hear himself swallowing hard.

“B-but the reason I go out to the construction site is…”

Geun-tae cut him off with a decisive final blow.

“The people you’ll be dealing with are journalists. If you handle reporters the exact same way you handle folks at the construction site, you’ll unearth a goldmine of even more fascinating stories. What do you say? Still on the fence?”

In the end, Min-gwan cracked.

Managing relations with the press was proceeding smoothly.

Min-gwan, handpicked by Yoongi himself as a candidate, broke down in tears of sheer joy the moment he joined the sales team and received his refrigerator-equipped accommodation. And he wasn’t the only addition. True to his word, Geun-tae successfully scouted a completely different breed of talent over the course of the single week Yoongi had given him.

While Min-gwan was a master of passive listening and empathetic engagement, the man Geun-tae brought in—Ma Seok-il—was an absolute powerhouse when it came to drinking, socializing, and entertainment. Seok-il was a former mid-level corporate sales executive who had been unceremoniously thrown under the bus for his superiors’ corruption and forced to bounce between construction sites to survive.

Having spent years as a high-performing sales professional, Seok-il accepted Geun-tae’s offer without a second thought. Paired up as a dynamic duo, the two men immediately set to work entertaining the press corps. Armed with the reports submitted by Geun-tae, Yoongi instructed Min-gwan and Seok-il to systematically target key editorial chiefs, entertainment reporters, and social affairs journalists across various newspapers.

“Just follow my lead, Min-gwan. Sales is all about charging straight in with your bare hands. Nothing else matters. Keep up with me, and you’ll carve out plenty of free time to focus on your writing later.”

True to his background as a seasoned corporate closer, Seok-il plowed through their initial encounters with reporters like an out-of-control freight train. Leveraging Seok-il’s aggressive networking prowess, Min-gwan easily won over the journalists’ affections. Given the high-stress nature of the reporting beat, having someone who genuinely knew how to sit back and absorb endless rounds of venting was an absolute godsend.

Furthermore, Seok-il handled the heavy-drinking, nightlife-loving reporters with ease, allowing Yaikai’s sales department to rack up immense goodwill among the media contacts right up through December. Sure enough, brief mentions and previews began popping up in select publications:

[Cheonggyecheon Yaikai Department Store Nearing Grand Opening] [What Makes High-End Aspirant Yaikai Department Store Stand Out?]

While these minor articles wouldn’t single-handedly swing the market, they were tangible results churned out by the sales division, prompting Yoongi to order financial bonuses for the team through Geun-tae. Seok-il, in particular, looked deeply moved upon receiving his bonus—understandable, given that he was a family man with a young son and daughter to feed. Ever since getting cut from his old company and drifting through hard labor to make ends meet, he had found himself working longer hours in his new role, but bringing home a bountiful paycheck left him thoroughly satisfied.

“Boss, I’ll work twice as hard!”

Still, you can’t just drive a car by slamming your foot on the accelerator alone.

Word came down from a newspaper’s editorial bureau chief that a reporter over on the political desk was preparing a hostile hit piece criticizing Yaikai Department Store, and Seok-il went to extraordinary lengths to try and build a personal bridge with the reporter in question. All his efforts, however, hit a brick wall. Matters escalated to the point where the story was nearly pushed through by the city desk editor rather than the chief, and the editorial chief only managed to buy a few days of breathing room with extreme difficulty.

“Manager Ma is certainly busting his tail out there, but he says that particular reporter is completely immovable. Things have been running so smoothly up to now that I hate putting the blame on Manager Ma, but…”

At Geun-tae’s troubled update, Yoongi nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“We shouldn’t blame Manager Ma in the least. Besides, didn’t I tell Uncle Choi before? Irregularities and exceptions will always exist.”

“Ah, right. So, how do you suggest we handle this? Frankly, I’m still completely in the dark about what kind of solution could fix a situation like this.”

Meeting Geun-tae’s expectant, instruction-seeking gaze, Yoongi curved his lips into a relaxed smile and spoke.

“Just have a complete, top-of-the-line set of premium home appliances delivered straight to that reporter’s parents’ house.”