Free Web NovelIn my previous life, the construction of a pipeline connecting Siberia and East Asia ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ never materialized before I died.
The uneasy relationship between the United States and Russia was part of the problem, but the variable called North Korea was simply too large.
On top of that, compared to pipelines crossing land, pipelines crossing the sea required more than double the construction costs, not to mention the maintenance expenses.
From Russia’s standpoint, there was no need to pursue a project with such poor profitability.
“You managed to get the approval. Impressive.”
“Because now is the right time. No one knows what will happen once more time passes. The relationship between the United States and Russia, between South and North Korea, and even China—everything is a variable.”
“That’s true. The international situation is something you can never see even an inch ahead.”
“You’re aware that Japan recently proposed pipeline construction to Russia, right?”
Yoon Changho frowned slightly and nodded.
“I know. Of course I know.”
Unable to secure a major stake in North Korea, the Japanese government hurriedly reached out to Russia. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
They proposed a pipeline project linking Russia and Japan and even promised to provide more than one trillion yen in funding, aggressively pushing for construction between the two countries.
“We’ve been closely watching how things are progressing as well. But we received reports that Russia is refraining from giving any positive response.”
Japan wanted a route that passed through Sakhalin and into the Japanese mainland.
However, unlike the China route—which overlapped to some extent with the North Korea–South Korea route—this meant opening up an entirely new route.
Even with Japan offering more than one trillion yen in funding, it simply wasn’t a project that made financial sense.
“Because the profitability is low. But we’re different. Our country imports more than twenty million tons of natural gas annually, and over half of that comes from the Middle East. From Russia’s perspective, our country is viewed as one with strong purchasing power.”
“I understand what you’re saying. Energy diversification is a core policy of our government. We need to reduce our energy dependence on the Middle East. The issue is whether people will accept all the profits from building that pipeline being concentrated in one individual.”
Once the pipeline was completed, Jungwoo Refining, which would obtain exclusive rights to use both the oil and gas pipelines, would be unbeatable by any competitor.
That seemed to be what Yoon Changho was concerned about.
“That can be resolved easily. Just supply energy at a low price. If we do that, the public won’t care who profits from the pipeline project. Making a living—that’s what matters most to ordinary people, isn’t it?”
South Korea had relatively high living costs. However, public utility rates were considerably cheaper than in many other countries.
As a result, the overall cost of living felt less burdensome.
If people were provided with a comfortable life, they would support the government even if it went somewhat overboard.
“And this project won’t be monopolized by the Jungwoo Group either. I’m thinking of bringing in another major conglomerate as well. A monopoly is a problem, but creating a structure where major companies compete with each other isn’t a bad thing.”
Of course, I would be the one choosing that conglomerate. But as strategies went, this was more than sufficient to cover things up.
“All you and the government need to do is package the project I secured into a government achievement. The Russian government will be the first to make contact.”
“Hah... honestly. You accomplish things effortlessly that even the Ministry of Foreign Affairs or the Ministry of Industry can’t. One person like you is worth more than hundreds of civil servants.”
After flattering me, Yoon Changho spoke seriously.
“You’re aware that people are talking about the Eunmi Apartments redevelopment project as well, right? Giving you too many special favors is also a burden.”
I hadn’t asked for it, but Yoon Changho had personally stepped in to provide preferential treatment—preferential treatment that wasn’t quite called that—for the Eunmi Apartments project.
The media remained quiet, but the internet, where communities were already highly active, was a different story.
“If you were someone completely out in the open... If people knew what you do for the country, no one would be able to criticize you, President Kim. But you don’t want that, do you?”
“Yes. That’s right. I don’t particularly want to hide, but I don’t want to step forward and publicize it either.”
“I understand. Even if the pipeline project proceeds smoothly, it could still become an issue later. It would be wise to think of at least one way to quiet public opinion.”
It was something I had already been worrying about. The fact that even Yoon Changho brought it up meant the online sentiment was no joke.
However, after acquiring the Hussein Collection this time and making the rounds of auction houses, I had come up with a method that could alleviate the issue to some extent.
“Mr. President. How about this? I participated in a Sotheby’s auction recently and successfully bid on a national-treasure–level cultural artifact.”
“Ah, so it was you who won that bid? The Cultural Heritage Administration had reported that a national-treasure–level artifact appeared at a Sotheby’s auction. If we’d known beforehand, we would have participated as well...”
“Even if you had, it would have been difficult to win. It wasn’t a cultural asset that left the country through legitimate channels—it was taken out through plunder. It would be a burden for the Korean government to step in and win such an item at a high price. Even if such a policy were adopted, the financial resources to carry it out would be limited.”
Yoon Changho sighed and nodded.
Facing a similar issue, the Chinese government had resolved it in a rather blunt manner.
China pressured its conglomerates to pursue the repatriation of cultural assets.
It was laughable that a government which had once destroyed its own cultural heritage was now zealously pushing for repatriation. That it actually worked was even more absurd.
But South Korea, unlike a dictatorship, couldn’t simply order major corporations to take on the task of recovering cultural assets.
“It always comes down to the budget. At least defense spending has gone down a bit, so funds can be diverted elsewhere now...”
Having long competed militarily with North Korea, South Korea had been forced to increase its defense budget year after year.
Things were a little different now, with Jang Seongtaek in power and a thaw in inter-Korean relations.
Yoon Changho spoke with a bitter smile.
“Still, the budget is always lacking.”
“That’s why I wanted to suggest this... I’m thinking of establishing a foundation together with Dream High Investment, Future Investment, and the Jungwoo Group. A foundation dedicated to repatriating Korean cultural assets scattered overseas.”
“A foundation for cultural repatriation?”
“But I won’t be donating the assets to the state.”
To be honest, I was opposed to donating cultural assets to the state.
When Seo Yonggeon, chairman of the Ilseong Group, died, the national-treasure–level artifacts and artworks he owned became known.
The value of what was called the “Seo Yonggeon Collection” was considerable.
All surviving family members—except Seo Jaehun, who was already a vegetative patient unable to express his will—expressed their intention to donate the collection to the state.
Though donated with good intentions, the art world viewed it differently.
Rather than building a dedicated museum for the Seo Yonggeon Collection, they wanted to split the artworks apart and display them in various locations.
While cultural relics would all be gathered at the National Museum, the other artworks were already scattered across multiple museums.
Managed in such a haphazard way, it wouldn’t be surprising if they eventually disappeared without anyone noticing.
“I plan to establish a museum under the foundation’s name and display everything together there.”
I didn’t want the cultural assets I repatriated to be torn apart and managed piecemeal.
Who knew if, one day, they might be quietly smuggled overseas again?
Yoon Changho clapped his hands, welcoming my idea.
“That’s an excellent approach!”
During the Japanese colonial period, a vast number of Korean cultural assets had been taken to Japan, the United States, and various European countries.
Those held by national museums or galleries were in relatively better circumstances.
The government could at least step in and negotiate.
But for cultural assets held privately, it was difficult to prove illegality, and transactions themselves were hard to carry out.
That meant this wasn’t something the government could do—it had to be handled at the private level.
And he understood that I was willing to step forward and do exactly that.
“I’m also planning various other projects for social contribution. That should quiet down the talk about special favors to some extent.”
“Good. Let’s proceed, then. First, let’s talk about the pipeline construction.”
“This project won’t be led by me personally, but by the Jungwoo Group. First, the Korean and Russian governments should come to an agreement, and then reach an agreement with North Korea. While discussions with the Russian government are ongoing, I’ll conduct preliminary negotiations with North Korea. I’m thinking of personally going into North Korea once, both to negotiate and to review North Korean projects overall.”
“Understood. I’ll inform the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.”
Even now, entering North Korea still required government approval.
After wrapping up the main points, I checked the time.
“Don’t you need to move on to your next schedule soon?”
The President ran his schedule down to the minute.
We’d been coordinating for days just to secure this meeting, and even then, it hadn’t been easy.
Canceling other appointments wasn’t an option either.
That was why we’d only been able to meet briefly over lunch.
Checking the time, Yoon Changho shrugged.
“It’s fine. I’ve got about thirty minutes left. Tell me about Iraq. How did you handle the negotiations?”
Everyone I met seemed curious about what happened in Iraq.
I’d been asked the same thing in Russia, which made me chuckle. Smiling faintly, I began to speak.
“As soon as I arrived in Iraq...”
For the remaining time, I recounted what had happened there.
Yoon Changho listened with admiration throughout. When I mentioned that the United States had sold tactical equipment, he openly showed his envy.
“Time to get going. Let’s meet again next time, President Kim. Drop by the Blue House occasionally and tell me how the world’s turning. Don’t just run around overseas all the time. Sometimes, people need to know how to enjoy a bit of leisure.”
Yoon Changho’s scolding carried concern for how busy I was.
“Yes. I will. Then I’ll see you next time, Mr. President.”
After exchanging farewells with Yoon Changho, I left the Blue House. Manager Ma, who had been waiting, opened the rear door of the prepared vehicle.
“Let’s go to Busan. We should arrive before sunset.”
The car carrying me sped along the road.
* * *
Fortunately, I arrived in Busan before the sun went down.
“Kim Muhyuk, you little bastard!”
“Grandma!”
The moment I stepped inside the house, Grandma unleashed a barrage of blows on my back along with her shouting.
“Where do you think you were going! Where’d you leave your sense of fear! Oh my, I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Oh dear, oh dear!”
“It just happened that way. But I came back safe and sound, didn’t I?”
“You little punk, even so!”
“Ah—okay! I get it! I won’t do it again. Just let it slide this once, okay?”
Grandma learned the full story because I had met Kim Mugil directly in Iraq.
She didn’t know the details of what I did for a living.
She knew I’d been involved with gangsters more than once, but knowing them and going to a war zone were completely different matters.
At least Busan grandmothers tended to have a less negative perception of gangsters—if that could even be called a small blessing.
“Good grief... You weren’t like this lately. You’re all grown up now, why do you worry people like this?”
Even though she’d been hitting my back mercilessly just moments ago, Grandma let out a deep sigh and rubbed my back.
I wrapped my arms tightly around her.
“It’s all in the past, and everything turned out fine. I wasn’t hurt, and Kim Mugil came back alive too. I just handled the negotiations. The rest was all done by the government. You saw the news, didn’t you? It wasn’t even that dangerous.”
“Even so...”
No matter how much I tried to reassure her, Grandma couldn’t hide her worry.
She was afraid I might do something like that again.
“All right. Then I promise I won’t go anywhere dangerous again. I’ve never broken a promise I made to you, Grandma. Here—promise.”
When I held out my pinky, Grandma hooked hers tightly with mine and even sealed it with a stamp.
It wasn’t that I could stop doing dangerous things.
I was just saying it to ease her worries, but Grandma believed anything I said.
It weighed on my conscience, but calming her down came first.
“Grandma. I heard the people at the market are throwing a feast tonight. We should head out soon.”
Only then did Grandma realize it, flustering herself.
“Oh, that’s right! Today’s the feast! Look at me. I’ll get ready right away, so you get ready too, Muhyuk.”
“Yeah. I’ll change into something comfortable.”
While Grandma went into her room, I instructed Manager Ma and the security team to make the rounds near the market.
A moment later, Grandma came out of her room.
“Wow, Grandma, you really dressed up.”
When I praised her as she appeared wearing a hanbok she’d carefully treasured, Grandma shot me a look.
Looks like I’m getting scolded no matter what I say today. I should just behave and be the good grandson.
“Enough nonsense. Let’s go. We’ll be late.”
Together with Grandma, I headed toward the market where the feast was being held.
The market vendors, who had closed early for the day, were gathered in the central plaza.
“It’s Muhyuk!”
Just then, someone shouted loudly upon spotting me. Everyone’s gaze turned my way at once.
At the same time, a middle-aged man ran toward me. freёwebnovel.com
“Muhyuk! Thank you. Truly, thank you.”
It was a face I hadn’t seen in a while, but I recognized him instantly.
He was Uncle Byeonggeun, Kim Mugil’s father and the man who ran the bicycle shop at the market.
He grabbed my hands and cried for a long while.
“What are you saying? I’m the one who’s grateful that I could repay even a small part of the kindness you showed.”
“How can that compare? I’ll spend my entire life repaying the debt I owe you and Grandma. That’s the only way I can call myself a decent human being.”
“Please don’t say that. I’ve already received more than enough from you. If it weren’t for you, I probably still wouldn’t know how to ride a bicycle.”
When I joked, Uncle Byeonggeun laughed through his streaming tears.
Holding his hands tightly, I smiled brightly at him.
