At the same time.
I was sitting at the very back, calmly observing my classmates' reactions. Even though the bell had rung, the atmosphere remained lively and chaotic, not calming down at all.
That's not to say everyone was excited from the beginning. This is an aristocratic school, after all. Normally, no one would even glance at something like a men's magazine because of social perceptions. Even if it's free, it's the same. But maybe the "Ultimate Outfit" on the cover piqued some curiosity. A few friends began to pick up the magazine here and there.
"Isn't this the latest issue?"
"Looks like it is!"
As soon as they confirmed the presence of "Dragon Ball," a swarm of students quickly grabbed copies of the magazine. It would take only about 10 minutes to read through a single serialized comic. And since the comic was in the middle of an intense battle, they probably finished it even quicker than usual. They wanted more, but there was nothing beyond that. Maybe that's why they felt so tantalized.
They turned their eyes back to the magazine in their hands, wondering, "What is this that features Dragon Ball?" Then, as they noticed Ultimate's provocative design, they couldn't help but admire it.
But that wasn't all.
"Isn't this Jack?"
"What?"
"It is. His name's right here."
Maybe it was because of a photo taken by Lukash, but my classmates began to gather around Jack one by one and started bombarding him with questions.
"Where is this place?"
"When was this taken?"
"What did they say to you?"
Regardless, Jack maintained a calm expression. Then, in a very composed voice, he repeated the same words.
"The essence of men's fashion lies in military uniforms… (omitted)… If you all want to draw attention with fashion, one way is to explore military uniforms, where the spirit of our patriotic martyrs resides…"
At this point, anyone could tell that a normal conversation was impossible! And yet, my classmates didn't give up.
"Where's the store?"
"The person who took the picture would know, right?"
"No, where did you even meet them?"
The commotion continued.
Amid the commotion, there was one person who showed a hint of discomfort. That person was none other than Julian Burnett. Despite the recent attention he'd gained from his investments, today, he was thoroughly ignored. However, Julian didn't just give up.
"Where should I invest today?" he said loudly, making sure everyone could hear. "There's so much information that I can't decide on just one thing."
Perhaps it was because he only ever bragged and never shared any real sources. Regardless of what he was saying, his classmates didn't even glance his way. "Oh, I made double today!" he exclaimed, but sadly, his long attempt to get attention was abruptly halted by the arrival of the teacher.
***
That evening.
Tennessee leaned against the headboard of his bed, looking down at the magazine. The models on the cover… they were definitely the same men he'd seen at Sir Lewis's store that day. If nothing else, he remembered the red logo on their hoodies and shoes very clearly. No wonder they looked so stylish. Who'd have thought they'd end up on the cover in those exact outfits?
'Hold on.'
Recalling that day, another memory he'd rather forget surfaced. The limited-edition package he'd dropped in shock. But ten minutes later, when he went back, wasn't it neatly placed in a shopping bag? 'Damn.' It was definitely Park Ji-hoon he had run into that day.
But why? Park Ji-hoon hadn't said anything at all. Tennessee had prepared over a hundred comebacks in case Ji-hoon asked him if he actually liked games, but strangely, Ji-hoon hadn't spoken a word to him. 'What's with that, making me anxious. Ugh.'
Anyway, Ji-hoon had been wearing the same clothes that ended up on the magazine cover.
'How did this happen?'
The magazine hadn't even been published yet, so how did he manage to get those clothes? Tennessee's head was a tangled mess. No matter how hard he looked, there was no clear information to be found.
The only thing he was sure of…
"…"
…was that he wanted those shoes with the red logo. And maybe the hoodie too… ahem. He had enough money, sure, but…
'I don't know where the store is!'
Tennessee carefully read the caption in the magazine. "Head to where masterpieces guide you as streetlights and open 'Hamlet' where you halt." No matter how many times he read it, he couldn't figure out what it meant.
But Tennessee did have one golden piece of information: the location where he'd seen the three people dressed in similar clothes emerge one by one.
'What were they doing in a store with the lights off?'
He glanced at the clock. It was 7:20 p.m.
'Hmmm.'
He then looked at the box of drinks on his desk. Leaving the school wasn't difficult at all. With just one word, "permission slip…," they made the paperwork without asking any questions. The real surprise was at the school gate. Without even showing his slip, the guard checked his face and let him through.
It didn't even take five minutes to catch a taxi, and before 8 o'clock, he arrived at Sir Lewis's store.
'Well, here I am.'
He wasn't sure if this was a good idea, but he couldn't just go back now. Luckily, the lights were on in the store… Tennessee gathered his courage and stepped inside.
Ding!
The bell on the door rang out clearly, but no one came to greet him.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" Tennessee couldn't help but look around. "Is there really no one here?"
Perhaps it was the high ceiling, but his voice echoed oddly in the quiet space. Then, suddenly—'Ah, jeez!'—he clutched his chest in surprise, thinking he'd seen a face pop out of nowhere… but, on closer inspection, it was just a portrait. Right, there's no way a person's face would be that big.
Not only were there portraits. It seemed like paintings were hung at roughly two-meter intervals along the walls. It didn't feel like a gallery, yet why were there so many paintings?
'Wait.'
"Head to where masterpieces guide you as streetlights and open 'Hamlet' where you halt!"
Could it be? After all, Park Ji-hoon and the two other models from the cover had come out of this very store!
'Could it really be true?'
Following the trail of masterpieces, Tennessee strode forward. Soon, through a half-open door, he glimpsed a narrow room with bookshelves covering the walls.
'Looks like a study?'
But why a study in the middle of a tailor shop? His surprise only lasted a moment.
"Open 'Hamlet' where you halt!"
Yes, this was it! Maybe it was the thrill of piecing the puzzle together, but Tennessee stepped into the room without hesitation. And there he actually found Hamlet.
'So I'm supposed to take this?'
Moments later…
Rrrrnnnkkk.
With a heavy sound, the bookshelf moved to the side.
Gulp.
Tennessee turned the doorknob, and—
"…!"
The Triumph he'd seen in the magazine was right there, bold as ever. Whoa!
Just then—
"Boss?"
A voice called from inside.
"Why are you… huh? Who are you?"
"Oh, um, well…" What on earth could he say in this situation? Saying he'd come because he'd read about it in the magazine felt… strange.
"Here, please take this." Tennessee, still unsure, awkwardly extended the box of drinks he'd brought. "I'm the first customer, right?"
Thanks to that, he was treated as a valued guest. Faber, the designer, thoroughly explained every detail of the clothes to him.
"You came after seeing the magazine, right?"
He nodded eagerly.
"There are products here that weren't featured in the magazine. Those will likely be released next week."
What does he mean by releasing next week? Just as Tennessee tilted his head in confusion, Faber continued.
"Usually, new products are launched every quarter, but we release one or two items in small quantities each week."
'Ah, like serialized comics?'
Tennessee didn't bother to say this out loud.
"We only produce about 30 items, with five per size, so if you miss that week, it'll be hard to get your hands on one," Faber explained.
"That makes sense."
The atmosphere in the lecture hall today had been intense enough. If the store's location became known, 30 items could probably sell out within a day.
"As I mentioned, this one will be available next week," Faber said, holding up a denim cap. It was a five-panel cap with red logos, giving it a stylish flair despite its simplicity.
"Can I buy that too?"
Though it wasn't typically for sale, Faber agreed to give it to him as a gift, since he was the first customer to discover the store's secrets. The first customer. It sounded like a nice gesture, but something felt off. A few days ago, he'd seen Park Ji-hoon wearing the same outfit.
'Why am I the first customer, then?'
Was it just a routine line to greet customers? Perhaps everyone was called the "first" to make them feel special. That kind of welcome was probably necessary for this type of store.
"Well, I'll pass on the gift. I actually want to buy everything available in the store."
"Everything… you say?"
"Yes, as long as the sizes fit. Or even if they don't, I'll take them."
"Understood," Faber replied, rummaging through a cabinet while Tennessee took a slow look around the store. Not only were the clothes impressive, but the space design was also remarkable. The wallpaper, furniture, and various objects all added to the ambiance.
'Hmm.'
The vintage Triumph he'd seen in the magazine was here, too.
'What's this? It looked like a Patek Philippe, with a sense of great age. Displayed in a showcase, it must be quite valuable.'
Just as he was about to see if there was anything else interesting nearby—
"…!"
Tennessee spotted something that made him doubt his own eyes. Even after seeing the classic Patek Philippe without flinching, he couldn't help but be captivated by this item. Finally, with a slightly trembling voice, he asked, "Could I… buy this too?"
***
Meanwhile.
I was checking the reactions on the forums. Thankfully, every board seemed unified, with nearly all conversations revolving around the magazine. This response had been somewhat orchestrated. Although there had been many requests to create boards, only those with topics related to the magazine were approved. As a result, wherever you looked, the boards were flooded with talk about the magazine.
Of course, there were exceptions.
Despite a drop in engagement, Julian continued to post relentlessly. Usually, he would limit himself to one post a day.
It seemed he was now trying to make up for quality with sheer quantity. Despite all that effort, his view counts were mostly stuck at zero or one. Perhaps that's why he was frustrated. The guy, who usually posted under his real name, had started popping up anonymously on other boards.
In these early days of the forum culture, the concept of IP addresses wasn't widely understood. If he truly wanted to stay anonymous, he should've used the computer lab or something…
Peter and I were snickering at the situation when suddenly—
RRRR! RRRR!
The phone on my desk rang loudly. I'd gotten it recently, thinking I might need it for business calls. It was probably the first time it had rung since I set it up.
"Yes, this is Park Ji-hoon."
The voice on the other end was Faber's.
"We have a customer here."
A customer? Already?
"But he wants to buy something other than the clothes…"
Naturally, I expected him to mention the Triumph or the Patek Philippe. I was about to tell him to politely refuse when he continued.
"He says he'd like to buy a game card."