Nakamura's study.
"Steel… Iron… that kid…"
After Kang Cheol (Steel) left the room, President Nakamura sat quietly, deep in thought.He remembered the way his daughter, Rie, had been stealing glances at Kang Cheol all day.
"What should I do…?"
His mind was full.
— He isn't extravagant. He spends carefully.— He's polite to everyone below him.— Manager Han doesn't push people by force, yet he motivates them to work harder.— He rewards those who work more with higher pay.— He's handsome, yet clean in his relationships with women.
President Nakamura recalled the reputation people whispered around him about Kang Cheol.
— Nakamura, you are Japanese… but before that, you are a good and honest man.— Everything in the world is done by people. And you are qualified to stand at the center of them.— Am I the one talking too much?— Would you like to come to Joseon with me?— Me?— Yes. Come to Joseon. Become my son-in-law… become a great merchant.— Father-in-law…?— Why? Do you dislike it?— N-no…
He remembered the words of the Korean craftsman who once trusted him and brought him in.
"Steel…!"
In front of President Nakamura's house.
As usual, I was returning home after organizing the ledger and reporting to the boss.These days, the main focus was real estate transactions.
This was to lower the grain purchase price for the first rice store.
After I first suggested buying land, President Nakamura actively followed my advice and began purchasing rice paddies and farmland.During the process, I bought land below market value — and unlike typical agents who pocket the difference, I never took a single coin.
What surprised me even more was…
President Nakamura gave me 50% of the profit as a performance bonus.
"You will receive a reward equal to your efforts," he said.
Whenever land was bought below market price or sold above it, 50% of the difference became my official share.
Almost all of my proposals were being accepted now, and naturally, my workload grew.
But one thing was certain:
President Nakamura had a talent for making people work enthusiastically.
'A company grows not by giving less, but by giving more.'
This was something worth learning.
When a business owner becomes wealthy, the workers under him should also rise.That kind of system creates loyalty — and growth.
'I will never cut employees' salaries later.'
That was my personal oath.
"Should we purchase textile machines?"
"Yes."
"A textile machine…?"
At that time, President Nakamura looked unsure.
Even if Japan were to collapse after the war, it would still recover faster than Joseon.Construction and textiles would flourish in devastated Japan — I already knew that from history.
But President Nakamura was hesitant.
Construction, especially, was dangerous.
In this era, the law was weak.Yakuza-controlled construction in Japan and gangster-run construction in future Korea were both infamous.So, naturally, he wanted to avoid such risky industries.
"I expected that," I said. "Instead, we can start by buying textile machines little by little. Build skills first."
And I remembered something:Nylon had already been invented.
Synthetic fiber — lighter than silk, strong even when wet, elastic, heat-retaining.A gift from God, people would later call it.
We couldn't produce it yet, but soon the technology would spread globally.A textile boom was inevitable.
"You also told me to collect gold?" President Nakamura asked.
That was a conversation that might be seen as a shift in power.
There were many poor Japanese living in Jongno and Myeongdong.We could train them and take them back to Japan later as skilled workers.
"That's possible," he agreed.
Even if the machines stayed in Joseon, the craftsmen — being Japanese — would return home.I would have the machines; President Nakamura would have the manpower.
His business expanded rapidly.
Now, he was beyond running "a store."It had become a business empire — with automobile workshops, textile production, land investments, and more.
"Thanks to you, I've become several times richer."
"You are too kind. It is all thanks to your trust, sir."
"No. You multiplied in three years what took me forty years to achieve. Thank you."
"Because of you, I escaped poverty," I answered honestly.
To be exact, I was no longer poor — I was wealthy.
And naturally… a terrible thought crept into my mind:
If only this catastrophic era could continue just a few more years…
His success in Japan-ruled Joseon would soon hit a ceiling.
Independence was coming.
And when that day arrived, I would have to start anew — under my own name.
'I'll begin with a brick factory.'
Not in Gyeongseong (Seoul), but in Busan.Before liberation, Japan would sell block-manufacturing machines cheaply.Sand could be taken freely from the river.
The problem was cement.
That would come through the U.S. military government — bribery and connections.
A dirty future, but inevitable.
After all, this land had been stripped bare by 36 years of colonial exploitation.
And my factory would later be destroyed during the Korean War.
But before all that—
'Smuggling in Busan…'
Smuggling and construction.Darkness and light.
A dangerous tightrope.
Smuggling was illegal — but in early South Korea, it would be a necessary evil.
With President Nakamura's permission, I had already hidden drums of gasoline in a cave near Mt. Bukhan.
Black gold.
In wartime, everything became scarce.Whoever had supplies, had power.
'If only he would give it to me…'
If left in my hands, that gasoline would become the foundation of my future business.
'And someday… I will return it to Miss Rie a hundredfold.'
Recently, the way he looked at me had changed.
Our relationship was no longer simply employer and employee.Sometimes we even shared dinner.
I learned how to drink from him again.
He looked at me the way a father looks at a son.
President Nakamura had no son, and he needed a son-in-law.But the sons of noble Japanese families only wanted his fortune — and they disliked Rie for having Korean blood.
Even when matches were arranged, they fell apart.
Of course, there were also men Nakamura rejected.
"Excuse me, Chief Kang…"
Just as I was leaving the front gate, Rie's maid, Samsoon, called out to me.
"Why?" I asked.
No matter how high my rank rose, I never spoke down to her.In fact, I didn't speak casually to anyone.
Always maintain a beginner's mindset.Always stay humble.
People hate arrogance.
Humility makes tomorrow possible.
And being polite costs nothing.
"I have a question, Chief Kang. You always know so much."
Samsoon had spoken informally to me when we first met.Not anymore.
"What is it?"