Bidding for broadcasting rights, huh.
Sure, the Italian league is the best in the world right now, but…
In the future, by the 2020s, the English league will grow to become the wealthiest.
The reason is simple.
They'll sell the broadcasting rights at an enormous price, and then distribute the profits among the teams.
So, even just staying in the first division will bring astronomical profits for the clubs.
With that money, they'll keep buying expensive players, and the EPL will become a cradle for stars.
'But that's a story for much later.'
Right now, England is struggling quite a bit.
And you're saying you've found the answer just by looking at a few papers?
Maybe he read the expression on my face.
Yang Eok-gwan cautiously spoke up.
"Because that's how all American sports make money."
"Are you saying the American profit model will be applied in Europe as well?"
"Yes."
"But I've heard that the atmosphere in Europe is quite different from America?"
I asked, testing him.
Yang Eok-gwan responded calmly.
"You're absolutely right. Europe has its own culture. I've heard many times that they are negative about making money through the sports industry, but still…."
"?"
"In the end, football is a sport where wins and losses matter. If they keep losing in European competitions and get labeled a second-rate league? The thinking of the British people will change quite a bit."
"No one profits in the face of defeat?"
"Exactly. If they adopt the American profit model, it's clear they'll thrive, so is there any reason to tolerate being called a second-rate league?"
"So you're saying public opinion will naturally form."
Ticket prices are stagnant, but player wages keep rising.
To overcome this limitation, they'll have to market to the world.
That's where broadcasting rights come in.
"The idea is good, but there's a problem. Do you think the proud British will hand over broadcasting rights to Asian capital?"
"You don't need to humble them."
"Then?"
"A sum large enough to make them puff up with pride, thinking, 'Wow, they value the English league this much!' That kind of overwhelming capital will solve everything."
"What's your estimated cost?"
"One trillion won per season. It sounds like a crazy amount, but with that…."
"Do you think you can make that kind of money?"
"Excuse me?"
He must have thought I was talking nonsense.
He's advising me to spend one trillion won, but I'm asking if he can make that money instead.
Just as the doubt hadn't fully left Yang Eok-gwan's eyes.
"I told you, didn't I? I'm going abroad to study."
"?"
I assigned you to manage things while I'm studying abroad.
If you need one trillion, you're the one who has to make it, my friend!
Did he sense the strange turn of the conversation?
"Hmm, after all, hobbies are beautiful when they remain hobbies. You're right. When you drag something you love into work…."
"My hobby is making money."
"..."
"Can you enjoy that hobby in my place?"
Maybe he realized there was no way out.
Yang Eok-gwan just blinked in silence.
***
Two days later.
Martin entered my office with a pale face.
He said he came straight over right after returning to the country.
"You met John Carmack, didn't you?"
"How did you know…."
At this point, John Carmack wasn't that famous yet.
It's only natural he'd react like that.
So I just made something up.
"Martin, you seemed interested, so I did a little research myself."
"Ah."
"I heard he's a programming genius."
"That's an accurate description. He's really, genuinely insane."
"You must have enjoyed meeting him."
"Of course. I've been wanting to meet a developer like him for a long time…"
It was as if the excitement from that day had returned.
He grinned widely.
But despite the smile, his complexion didn't look great.
"You look really tired."
"I've been staying up all night lately. I did manage to get some sleep on the plane, though."
"Then you should head home, why…."
"I need to adjust to the time difference."
So he plans to sleep at night, huh.
Hmm.
Or maybe he just wants to try out what he learned from John Carmack right away.
Anyway, now it's time to get to the point.
"I came because I wanted to ask you something."
….?"
"You completed your PhD at Oxford, right?"
I asked if he knew anything about the Royal College in London.
He responded very simply.
"Of course I know. Oxford has its own community as well."
"Community?"
"It's like a social gathering for alumni from the Royal College. There are various types of such gatherings, but among them, there's one particularly famous social club. Women aren't allowed to join, and to bring in new members, they need approval from the senior alumni who've already graduated…"
How pretentious.
But it seems like they get solid results.
"All the prime ministers who graduated from the Royal College are members of that club. So, naturally, their pride is enormous. It's like a kind of aristocratic gathering. But why do you ask…"
Before I could answer, Martin, being quick-witted, spoke first.
"Are you thinking of applying to the Royal College?"
"Why are you so surprised?"
"Ah, well…."
"Does it not suit me?"
"That's not what I meant…."
Martin struggled to find his words.
But I could easily read the confusion in his eyes.
I waited patiently without rushing him.
After a bit of time had passed, he finally spoke.
"Aristocrats can enter the Royal College directly, but… for others, an interview is required."
"Why is that?"
"The problem is… one of the interviewers is…"
"?"
"My PhD advisor."
Wait a minute.
Martin's advisor… He was the foremost authority on evaluating Da Vinci's works… but after the introduction of scientific appraisal methods, his reputation declined…
"Are you talking about the professor who opposed us to the very end?"
"That's correct."
Oh my goodness.
So, the person who considers me their mortal enemy… will be sitting right there as my interviewer?
At that very moment,
"If you don't make it in, how about going to a science high school instead?"
My grandfather's words started echoing in my ears.
***
One month later.
Yang Eok-gwan was reporting to the Hannam-dong office every single day.
He received reports three times every morning.
At 7 AM, on the North American distribution network.
At 9 AM, on content ranging from games, comics, and anime.
At 11 AM, on the entire football business.
Then, based on those reports, he issued written instructions for each.
He kept this routine without taking a single day off for a whole month.
So, as a result…
The employees who used to be happy working with Park Ji-hoon were now working like they were pouring their souls into it.
But what could they do?
The boss was the first to arrive and the last to leave.
There were even rumors that he had placed a field bed in the office and was sleeping there, so no one could voice any complaints.
Why was he working so insanely hard?
"Every year, we have to make one trillion won!"
At first, he regretted ever bringing up the broadcasting rights.
But who would've thought?
Once an impossible-seeming goal was set, his blood started boiling instead.
While working with bloodshot eyes.
'I'm alive.'
He could feel the thrill of life coursing through him.
So, as the results started to show, he pushed himself to run even tighter.
Even though the entire company atmosphere had changed 180 degrees, CEO Park Ji-hoon didn't interfere with a single thing.
He was someone with an almost supernatural talent for investment.
Even though there must have been many unsatisfactory elements, he thoroughly guaranteed the management rights.
Sometimes, he left everything to his discretion to an almost burdensome degree.
'You're the CEO, so set your own incentives as you see fit.'
How could he have said something like that?
'Why does he trust me so much?'
Was it simply because Chairman Dazai recommended him?
Or was it because he liked the way he handled things?
Whatever the reason, the fact remains that he was receiving an overwhelming amount of trust.
'Damn.'
With such blatant support, how could he possibly betray that trust?
'I'll repay this kindness with profit!'
And so… the squirrel named Yang Eok-gwan, trapped in the prison of trust, scurried around, bringing back acorns from all over the mountains every day.
***
'Is someone talking about me?'
I had an odd, itchy feeling in my ears…
Just then.
(Are you listening?)
Jo Soo-deok's voice came through the receiver.
I had been receiving updates on the current status of the Oxford art history professor.
"Sorry, I just got distracted by another thought."
(Ah, yes. May I continue?)
"Go ahead."
(Recently, he's taken a break from teaching. He was once considered one of the top experts on Da Vinci, but after making a critical misjudgment in his field…)
"And that led him to stop lecturing?"
(It seems he made some significant missteps.)
"…?"
(He even staked his career and past research on his claim, insisting on it to the end… and when the results came out, he claimed it was all fabricated…)
"And that led to him resigning as a professor?"
(Thankfully, he managed to keep his position, since he's so close to retirement. He gradually reduced his teaching load and is now on a break, citing health reasons. He probably doesn't want to face his students.)
Hmm.
At this rate… it wouldn't be strange if he held a grudge against me.
And in that situation, I have to be interviewed by this professor?
'Is that even possible!'
But there was no alternative.
Looking through the rulebook, I saw a clause stating that all interviewers must reach a unanimous decision for admission to be granted…
If things go on like this, I'll end up at a science high school… Ugh.
"Is there no chance of the interviewer being changed?"
(There hasn't been a case like that yet, but even if an exception occurred, the interviewers are so close-knit that…)
"So even if one person is absent, their influence remains?"
(I believe so.)
Sigh.
There has to be a way.
No, even if there isn't, I'll have to make one.
Even though I knew it was pointless, I kept reading the admissions rulebook.
Just then.
One seemingly ordinary line caught my eye.
"A recommendation letter must be attached to the interview documents."
A clause I was already familiar with.
But at this moment, that one line felt like a lifeline.
A recommendation letter must be attached…
That means the interviewers will definitely read it, right?
'Yes, that's what it means, isn't it?'
I felt as if I had found a tiny crack in the wall I thought was impenetrable.
It's still daunting, but…
'Having hope is better than having none!'
Perhaps because I saw the possibility, my mind started working rapidly.
After some time passed,
"Professor, are you still there?"
(Yes, I'm listening.)
I adjusted my grip on the receiver and said,
"Please, draw me a picture."