That night, at a nearby café.
I met Olivia as expected.
"I slept all day."
Even so, she didn't look tired. Cutting passes to go out every day and working every night wasn't enough, and today, she even had to work until the night market. Still, Olivia veered away from work talk.
"When's the shoot schedule?"
"Tomorrow night."
"Shooting for a magazine cover?"
I nodded.
"Where's the location?"
"Inside the store."
"Have you decided on the models?"
"Faber and Lukash."
Hearing my answer, Olivia widened her eyes.
"It's not because you're short on money, is it?"
"…"
"Since he's the designer, he's the one who understands the clothes he made best?"
"That's how it is."
She seemed to imagine the shooting scene in her head. After tightening her jaw, she said, "Not bad."
She chuckled.
"Oh, speaking of models—"
"…?"
"I have this leather jacket I designed. It's almost done."
"And?"
"It's menswear, so I can't model it myself."
Did she mean she wanted me to model it? Seeing my expression, she let out a bright laugh.
"Wouldn't it be impossible?"
"Then I'd have to show my face."
"Isn't that a bit much?"
"Not yet."
"Your concept is a secret hideout, so it'd be strange to show the master's face."
Fortunately, she seemed to understand.
"How long are you planning to keep it a secret?"
"Well…"
Still, today, I couldn't help but give Tennessee a little more than intended. When the magazine comes out, it'll include some hints about the store.
If Tennessee remembers today's meeting…
They might deduce where the shop is and who the owner is.
"That's how it is."
From the limited edition "Dragon Quest" in Tennessee's hands, I saw more than enough.
"The store won't remain hidden forever."
Let's stop operating secretly once people start to find out.
It was around the time when various memories started coming back to me.
"When will the magazine be released?"
"In as soon as three days."
"That soon?"
"The work is done. All that's left is to design the cover and print it."
"Even so, isn't three days pushing it?"
"Why?"
"You can't trust everything the printing company says. They promise a timeline, but they always shout about delays. Only by observing closely do you get about a hundred copies. Taking a longer look, it might take half a day."
Perhaps my face looks too calm, causing her to raise a big question mark.
Should I clear up her doubts?
"I have a small publishing company, so I'm familiar with printing…"
"A publishing company? You own a publishing company?"
"…"
"Weren't you in the distribution business?"
"It's just something small, as a hobby."
"Oh, so running a publishing company is a hobby now?"
That's not exactly what I meant.
"Hmm."
The more we talk, the more misunderstandings seem to build up.
"Anyway, shall we get up soon?"
"Yes, Mr. Chairman."
Chairman?
'Please cancel that word…'
To someone like me, who just got involved in the management and ended up burdened with expenses, "Chairman" is too harsh a title!
With that, I hurried out of the Fudaduck Cafe.
***
A few days later, in Korea.
In Chairman Park Yong-hak's hand was a book.
The chief secretary standing opposite him spoke cautiously.
"This is the magazine made by Ji-hoon."
Park Yong-hak looked down at the book cover.
The background was indoors.
Two men stood apart, with a unique atmosphere between them.
One was leaning against the motorcycle that Park Yong-hak had gifted him.
He wore a sleek suit, though with an interesting touch—a leather-like tie.
That was it.
Unintentionally, the biker's casual jacket caught the eye, exuding a free-spirited biker style.
The other man stood at a distance in stark contrast.
His face was obscured by a dark hood, with a red logo replacing where his eyes should be.
He held a skateboard in a defiant pose, as if ready to rush out at any moment, displaying a rebellious look.
Above the two contrasting men was the magazine title, written in bold: "Queen's Man."
The subtitle read, "Manners Make the Man."
Turning the book over, a large non-sale mark stood out, implying it wasn't for sale.
"The space on the cover likely hints at a clever storefront."
"Do you think it's a store?"
"Ah, yes. Since it hasn't opened yet and the concept is a secret hideout, I couldn't look inside. Actually, even getting my hands on this one magazine took quite a bit of effort…"
"Wow, should I give you a round of applause?"
"Oh, no, sir," the chief secretary quickly bowed.
'Tsk.'
There was no mistake in the secretary's handling of things, yet…
The mere mention of his grandson always brought out a strict side in Park Yong-hak. Keeping his expression neutral, he slowly flipped through the magazine.
"Hmm."
The beginning was mostly about fashion. But as it progressed, it started to cover lifestyle topics. Fashion is just one way to reveal a person's identity. Beyond fashion, it explored how best to express "myself," or what should fill my inner self before showing it to the world. The articles unpacked such content with elegant prose.
Reading his boss's gaze, the chief secretary cautiously spoke up.
"All the articles were carefully crafted and directly written."
"Is he planning to publish this weekly?"
"Yes, it's meant to be a weekly magazine."
"Can that be sustained?"
"The first issue has a lot of content, but they could reduce it in later issues…"
"That would suit Geunma's style."
Chairman Park continued examining the content for quite a while. The more he read, the more refined the magazine felt. Even so…
"It's good, but it's still for young people."
To get people talking, they need to give it a read. But the question is how. Just because it's free, will people actually look at it? Think about those leaflets handed out in front of the subway—most of them go straight to the trash. Still, could solid content someday attract an audience… is that too romantic a notion?
"There's no sound to it."
It needs a hook to attract people. No matter how well-made, it needs an element of marketing appeal to captivate the masses. These thoughts were swirling in his mind as he turned another page.
"And what's this?"
Suddenly, he noticed a comic featured in the magazine. He checked the title.
"Dragon Ball?"
When Chairman Park looked up in surprise, the chief secretary promptly offered an explanation.
"Apparently, the UK doesn't officially publish 'weekly comics,' so there's no immediate way for readers to see the latest chapters of 'Dragon Ball.'"
"Really? They have to wait for the collected volumes?"
"Yes, and with translation required, they usually see it several months after Japan."
So the magazine strategically included weekly installments in the latter half, huh? And in full color, no less?
"Did he get permission for that?"
"Yes. Since it's technically a non-sale item and there aren't even 100 copies made, they seem to have granted permission willingly. Ha! No matter how well-made something is, it means nothing if others don't see it."
With a worried look, the devoted grandson's secret weapon held Chairman Park in place.
Ah, yes—Park Ji-hoon, always the one he worried about.
Chairman Park closed the magazine with a satisfied smile.
***
The next day.
As usual, Carl Bernstein leisurely stepped out of his dorm. The lecture hall was bustling, but the moment he entered, it fell silent, almost as if by magic. He'd never forced anyone, but everyone had instinctively learned to be mindful of his gaze, earning him the respect reserved for a teacher of sorts.
Yet today, unlike usual, as Carl entered the hall, there was no sudden hush.
"Huh, why is no one reacting?"
This was the first time this had happened, and he was curious. What's going on? He looked around and saw large letters on the wall:
"Take one for free?"
Below the sign, magazines were piling up.
'Ha! This much excitement over something so small?'
Then he noticed some of his classmates catching sight of him, gradually lowering their voices one by one. The room fell silent, with only the quiet sound of pages flipping across the room.
Could it be that someone had placed a rival publication in the Royal School?
With a cold smile, Carl picked up a magazine and tossed it onto his desk, then casually took a seat. He opened it with a nonchalant look, pretending to glance through it, though he had every intention of getting rid of it eventually.
But then something caught his eye.
"John Green's First Sneakers"
"What?"
He knew John Green well—the ones he'd approached multiple times to propose a store collaboration, but they'd always turned him down, acting as if they were too good for it. But now…not only had they collaborated with a private editorial shop, but they had even created a custom model?
"Unbelievable."
Naturally, he thought it must be false advertising. What would a freebie magazine have of any value, after all? Yet when he saw the large photograph, he had to withdraw his doubt.
"This isn't amateur work."
Carl had launched his own brand and reviewed countless design proposals. Many of those proposals had included sneakers, yet none of them matched the exceptional quality of these. This was undeniably the work of a top-tier professional designer. No one of that caliber would slap the John Green name on something without serious intention.
"So, this is the real deal?"
His curiosity piqued, Carl flipped through the magazine with intense focus. For someone who usually ignored free publications, he was now engrossed in its contents, continuing to explore page after page.
Who knows how much time passed? Carl finally lifted his head with confidence.
"The ultimate?"
Yes, he had to find whoever made this. Bring them in and let them help elevate his brand.
"Where can I call?"
But wait, what's this? There was no contact information, not even an address for the store. Ha! Instead, there was only a riddle about the location.
"Take Hamlet from the place where the lamppost turns into a famous painting."
What in the world?
"Is this a prank?"
Without hesitation, Carl jumped up from his seat. The bell signaling the start of class rang, but…
"I have to find them, no matter what."
At that moment, that thought was the only one filling his mind.