As expected, the team dinner was, of course, pizza.
By now, I've just accepted it without needing to say anything.
"To be honest, it's pretty delicious, anyway."
Since today's dinner was a victory celebration, we rented out the entire restaurant.
When someone suggested pitching in, Devon stubbornly refused again.
"Do you hate money or something?"
"What are you talking about? I love money!"
"People who love money usually save it, though…"
"Oh, not in that way. I don't save; I spend everything I make."
"…"
I'm guessing that even if I showed him my bank account balance, Devon would insist on footing the bill himself.
Anyway.
"Fill the glasses!"
Devon stood up and shouted heartily.
"On a day like today, we ought to drink beer under the teacher's guidance!"
He glanced outside the restaurant through the glass doors.
A bunch of cameras were visible.
"Drinking beer in front of reporters would be reckless, wouldn't it? So let's settle for cola today."
"Do we have to drink cola too?"
Steve, representing the Cambridge rugby team, asked.
"You're university students. Just make your own decisions. Why ask me?"
"Well, since you're paying, we thought we should check…"
"Drink. Drink today, and let's die tomorrow."
With that, everyone raised their glasses.
For the sake of appearances, we filled our beer glasses to the brim with cola.
"Before we drink, let the captain say a few words. Make it short, though—the pizza's getting cold."
Not like I planned on saying much, anyway.
I stood up and kept it short and sweet.
"We won!"
And with that.
"Woooooaaahhh!"
My teammates let out a thunderous cheer.
Clink, clink, clink!
Glasses collided from all sides, and then—chomp, gulp—a perfectly wholesome party (?) began.
Even Leo, who's usually so quiet, chimed in.
"I was so nervous before the match I thought I'd lose it."
For today, it seemed he was feeling chatty.
"At first, I just started practicing out of curiosity since they said it'd be published in a magazine."
And he began spilling stories he'd kept to himself until now.
"When the reporters clocked out, we'd all wrap up training at a reasonable time and head back together. But since everyone knew the three aces were still practicing late at night, honestly… it started to make me self-conscious."
"So what did you do?"
"After that, I stayed behind and trained too, even when there weren't any cameras around. It felt like I'd enrolled in a sports academy or something."
If even reserved Leo was saying this much, you can imagine how lively Gary and James were.
Those two were chattering away like drunks, while Steve—who had actually been drinking—looked perfectly composed.
Oh, speaking of which.
I pulled out a shopping bag I'd prepared beforehand and handed it to Steve.
"What's this?"
"Oh, uh… it's an Ultimate. The staff at the store said there was one left and asked me to pass it on to anyone who helped with our training."
"Really?"
Of course, that was a lie.
"Haha."
I scratched my head awkwardly.
Considering all the help Steve had given us—helping with training, even being the cover model for Queensman—giving him a set of clothes felt like the least I could do.
"Wow!"
Steve looked overjoyed, and seeing him so happy made me feel even more grateful.
"Oh, by the way, I wanted to ask you something."
"If it's about getting into Cambridge, I'd love to hear it."
Ahem.
"No, it's something else. Didn't you mention your dad runs a food company?"
"Yeah."
"And it's pretty big, right?"
"It's the largest in the UK."
"How much can they produce if the factory operates at full capacity?"
The suddenness of my question seemed to catch him off guard, and a metaphorical question mark popped up over his head.
"Why are you asking this all of a sudden?"
"I've been thinking about making bread, and I was wondering if I could commission it from your dad's company."
"Hmm, well…"
"…?"
"Like I said, it's a pretty large-scale operation. We're not really in a position to take small personal orders."
"Well, the quantity is a bit large."
"Come on, no matter how large it is, we only handle orders starting at a minimum of 100,000 units."
"Then that's a relief."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"I need 200,000 units per day."
Steve blinked silently, as if wondering whether he'd just misheard me.
"Bread isn't something with a shelf life of months… 200,000 units a day? Is that even realistic?"
It wouldn't make sense if it were just bread.
But inside each piece, there'd be a sticker.
"That's a conservative estimate…"
If it catches on, we might need to ramp up production several times over.
"200,000 units every single day. Can you handle it?"
"Ev… every single day?"
I nodded.
"What exactly are you planning to do with all that?"
"What else? Sell them."
I wasn't aiming to profit off the bread itself, especially since it's for kids.
The idea was to make it as big and delicious as possible so everyone would want to buy it, collect the stickers, and in the process, amplify the promotional effect.
Afterward, we'd release the Capsulemon graphic novel, launch the game, premiere the movie, and sell all kinds of merchandise.
Once revenue started pouring in from all directions, I'd use it to acquire Gucci.
"Ji-hoon."
"Yes?"
"If I sign a contract for 200,000 units per day…"
"…?"
"I should at least end up with a Ferrari, right?"
"A classic car?"
"Hmm… That might be a bit tough."
"That's fine. Once things gain momentum, we might even have to crank out 500,000 units a day."
The numbers alone seemed overwhelming enough to leave Steve speechless.
"Ha!"
He couldn't close his mouth for a while.
I grinned.
Maybe it was because I'd just met with my grandfather, but even when I should've been relaxing, I found myself talking about work.
Hmph.
Maybe it wasn't really about my grandfather.
Maybe I'm just half-obsessed with work… Nah, that's nonsense!
What a ridiculous thought!
Anyway.
Even Tennessee seemed to have grown accustomed to gatherings like this.
Even with people watching, he was sipping cola without a hint of guilt.
Good job, Tennessee. Proud of you!
Did he pick up on my approving gaze?
He turned his head slightly toward me.
And then, for the first time all evening, he finally spoke.
What he said was completely unexpected.
"There was a big war in Korea, right?"
Not Jack, but Tennessee? Why is he suddenly bringing up war…
"Right after the war, the place must've been completely in ruins?"
"Yeah, it was. Unfortunately."
"So your grandfather built an entirely new empire on that barren land?"
Well, that's one way to put it.
"Why are you asking about this?"
"I've started to take an interest in business lately."
Huh?
"So, about that wish coupon you mentioned before. Can I use it now?"
***
Meanwhile, Park Yong-hak followed Jo So-deok's lead to Queensman.
The shop was an elegant, old-fashioned tailor's store.
As they walked past paintings hung on the walls, he pulled a copy of Hamlet from the bookshelf, revealing a hidden space.
When he'd seen it in magazines, it didn't seem like much.
But experiencing it firsthand felt different.
"Not bad."
Park Yong-hak, a lover of art, was thoroughly impressed.
His sharp aesthetic sense was unmatched, and now, he was scrutinizing the store with a critical eye.
"Who's responsible for this?"
"The initial concept was designed by the Boss, and it was implemented by his peer, Ms. Olivia."
"Olivia?"
"She's the daughter of Ralph Warren, America's top designer."
Now understanding, Chairman Park nodded in acknowledgment.
"Welcome—oh!"
The man who had just entered the scene was none other than James Faber.
He froze in shock upon seeing the two of them.
"Professor, what brings you here all of a sudden…?"
Perhaps it was the lingering trauma of the full-course treatment he'd received in New York.
Their eyes met, and Faber's gaze trembled nervously.
But it was too soon to be shocked.
As Jo So-deok stepped forward to formally introduce Chairman Park,
"…!"
Faber's eyes widened in disbelief.
The revelation that this was Park Ji-hoon's grandfather clearly left him rattled.
"This young man single-handedly created the Ultimate?"
"Yes, that's correct."
When Chairman Park inquired about his secret, Faber could only manage an awkward smile.
Bluntly speaking, with the person in question right in front of him, Jo So-deok couldn't exactly report that his own strict discipline had played a significant role!
"What's that store… the department store one…"
"Harris."
"Right. I heard this young man turned down a scouting offer from them."
Jo So-deok asked on his behalf, and Faber provided a brief explanation.
"The Boss offered a vision greater than money, apparently."
"What could be bigger than money?"
"Pardon?"
"A vision for earning money, of course."
"Oh, uh, yes. I suppose so. Haha…"
In any case.
"So, he turned down an offer worth millions and sided with Ji-hoon, is that right?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"And where's he staying?"
"He's currently in a hotel suite."
"What about a car?"
"He says taxis are more convenient…"
Hearing this, Park Yong-hak's brow furrowed deeply.
"Tomorrow morning, find him a house in an upscale neighborhood. Fully paid, in his name, no loans—make it spotless."
"Excuse me? Ah, yes, sir."
"And for a car… it wouldn't suit the creator of Ultimate to drive a sedan."
"…?"
"How about a Bentley coupe?"
"Who in the world would refuse a free Bentley?"
As the interpretation wrapped up, Faber quickly waved his hands in protest.
He seemed to mean he was perfectly comfortable with things as they were.
But Park Yong-hak's demeanor was resolute.
"When an elder gives you something, it's good manners to accept without complaint."
***
I returned home without delay since I knew Grandfather was waiting for me.
The warm glow spilling through the window felt so comforting!
After days of seeing only dark windows, I entered the house in high spirits.
"Grandfather, I'm home."
He was sitting in the living room, reading a book.
Upon noticing me, he removed his reading glasses and set them down on the table.
"You don't need to bring anything when you come home. What's this now?"
"Oh, this?"
Jo So-deok quickly approached to take my things.
"I didn't buy it."
"…?"
"You remember the friend I mentioned earlier?"
"Tennessee Edward Churchill Grosvenor?"
Wow, Grandfather even remembered his full name.
Anyway.
"He told me to bring this for you. It's a wine that only the royal family and dukes can purchase. He even took me to his family's cellar to pick it out."
Grandfather silently examined the wine label, his expertise in wine evident.
"This still exists?"
A content smile appeared on his face.
"Is it really okay to accept something like this?"
"Is it expensive?"
"It's easily worth more than a car."
Hmm.
"That's fine. I made him a uniform that costs about as much as a car."
"That's more like a compact car. This is closer to an S-Class. Are you sure it's okay?"
Excuse me? An S-Class?
There were mountains of wine bottles in the cellar, so I figured the most expensive ones might go for 10 million won at most.
But one bottle costing as much as an S-Class?
Suddenly, I felt dizzy.
"Professor Jo, come here."
"Yes, Chairman."
"This bottle is so old, the cork will definitely crumble if you just pull it out. You'll need an old-vintage opener. Got it?"
"Are you planning to drink it now?"
"Of course. I can't just pretend I didn't see you drooling over it, can I?"
"Oh dear, you noticed that?"
"Hurry up and bring it out."
Jo So-deok rushed to the kitchen, his face lighting up with joy, which left me with some one-on-one time with Grandfather.
"So, you're planning to acquire Gucci?"
"Yes, that's the plan."
"What about the money?"
"I'll have to earn it now."
To anyone else, that might sound like a casual or overly confident remark.
But Grandfather's expression was serious.
"I heard that Capsule… what's it called again… is making a lot of money these days."
"Capsulemon."
"Right. Are you planning to use that to fund the acquisition?"
Grandfather really doesn't miss a thing.
"If you buy Gucci with Capsulemon profits, what will you do next?"
"…"
"You wouldn't be satisfied with just Gucci, would you? What next? Planning to go after Louis Vuitton?"
At times like this, I just want to ask him outright: Grandfather, be honest with me—just between us.
You're not living your first life, are you?