At the same time.
There were times Olivia didn't even attend school, let alone go to class.
Carl Bernstein, the student council president for the second years, was receiving a report from a law firm attorney at his home.
"I informed you that Park Ji-hoon is preparing a business in Manchester."
"It seems there has been some progress?"
"Yes. I've confirmed the reason behind his decision to start his business in Manchester rather than London."
The attorney took a stack of documents from his briefcase. They were filled with details about Park Ji-hoon's interactions with the chairman of the Manchester City Council.
"From what I've heard, it appears he wants to acquire Manchester United."
"That's a football team, isn't it?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"Ha!"
Carl let out a disbelieving chuckle. After all, football was widely known as a sport for the common people, in stark contrast to rugby, a sport favored by the nobility. He had heard that Park Ji-hoon had made a considerable fortune by selling paintings and succeeding in business.
"What an interesting taste."
Did he think it was beneath him? Carl shook his head in mild disapproval.
"And so?"
"It seems that having money doesn't guarantee an easy acquisition. The city council demanded contributions to the community's development, so as a result, Park Ji-hoon's side purchased an abandoned factory to create a new commercial area…"
"Who would even come if they set up stores in an abandoned factory?"
"I suppose he had to at least make a show of it. The city's demands meant he had to take some action, but while he might spend big in London, he's reluctant to do so in Manchester."
"So he's making empty promises about revitalizing a cheap factory?"
"That's what it appears to be."
"What does he think he is, Cinderella? How does he expect to turn a pumpkin into a carriage?"
Despite his sneer, Carl seemed to be in quiet contemplation. The experienced attorney didn't miss his subtle change in expression.
"You seem to be pondering something."
"I have two choices, and I'm not sure which one is best."
"What are the two options?"
"The first is to let Park Ji-hoon waste his money."
"…"
"The second is to crush him from the start so that he can't even try anything."
With a keen sense, the attorney provided his advice immediately.
"I hear he's quite wealthy. Buying up a few factories and making a few empty gestures won't make much of a dent."
"So it's better to throw a wrench in his plans?"
"He's been on a winning streak up to now. If he fails because he couldn't even sway a city council chairman, wouldn't that deal a blow to his pride?"
On hearing this, Carl's lips curled into a smirk, as if it sounded quite convincing.
"By the way."
"Yes, young master."
"Please arrange a few designers."
"Designers…?"
"I mentioned before that I wanted to launch a brand, didn't I?"
"Yes, I remember."
"There's an empty spot on the third floor of the luxury department. I've heard it would be better to operate there for a few months before moving to the first floor, so I agreed to it for now."
The lawyer congratulated him.
"If you could tell me the concept of the brand, I can find designers who fit…"
"There's no concept, so just get me some all-around stars."
"Excuse me?"
"You know, people who can whip up anything you throw at them. Preferably ones who like money."
In other words, he wanted to splash cash and line up big names.
'That's going to burn through a ton of money.'
Whether Carl understood the lawyer's thoughts or not was unclear.
'An abandoned factory versus a luxury department store.'
Carl was already savoring the thrill of victory in advance.
***
Three days later.
Though only three days had passed, the school saw a big change.
The bulletin board Peter had set up quickly became well-known, attracting a crowd.
How did he promote it?
The method was simple.
He hacked into the PCs in the computer lab and changed their start pages!
Thanks to this, right before the computer class, his peers discovered the bulletin board's existence.
After that, things went smoothly!
Everyone started posting on the bulletin board.
As expected, Julian Burnett was the first to kick things off.
Despite it being an anonymous board (as if he wouldn't be a show-off), he insisted on using a fixed nickname.
Then, he meticulously listed his investment portfolio.
The views were considerable, and it even received a decent number of comments.
Of course, there were some harsh remarks:
But Julian wasn't one to just take it.
Thus began the keyboard battle, which continued relentlessly.
They say there's nothing more entertaining than watching a fight. Even those uninterested in investing seemed eager to watch the chaos unfold. The number of viewers kept growing.
As the board gained traction, requests started popping up.
Why not? As soon as Peter added another board, a flood of random requests started pouring in.
Anyway.
The board was gaining momentum, and just when everything seemed to be going smoothly, I received a message through the teachers' office. It was a request from Jo So-deok for a call. He rarely called the school, so I felt a twinge of anxiety as I picked up the public phone.
Barely a few rings later, an urgent voice came through.
(Boss, we've hit a snag.)
"What's wrong?"
(I just got off the phone with the chairman of the Manchester City Council…)
What followed was almost predictable.
You know how it is. You feel 99 percent sure of success, but unfortunately, the 1 percent causes trouble.
We had deliberately backed a contender with ambitions of becoming the mayor of Manchester. But at the last moment, things fell apart.
"What went wrong?"
(I hate to say this, but I don't really know.)
"…?"
(There's no logical reason for refusal. It's like holding a winning card and still folding.)
Jo So-deok paused for a moment before continuing.
(It doesn't make sense unless there's some external pressure.)
External pressure… meaning someone is deliberately obstructing my business?
"Why?"
But the confusion didn't last long. When a freshman dares to go up against the Harris Department Store family…
"No surprise if things start happening."
The plan had changed, and acquiring Manchester had been pushed to a lower priority.
In other words, there wouldn't be any immediate loss even if someone tried to interfere.
Still…
"Now that it's come to this, we might as well save some budget."
(Pardon?)
Initially, I intended to buy up the factories with my own money, but—
"Now, I need to make them beg me to come."
(W-who, exactly?)
"Who else? Manchester."
Once I start achieving my goals, high-quality jobs will be created in abundance. Naturally, local governments will come flocking with offers. I'm curious to see the expression on the face of the Manchester City Council chairman when that happens.
'For that very reason…'
For now, the success of the concept store takes precedence! The store is almost set up, and the magazine is nearly ready. Now, I just need the clothes to come out right.
'No room for doubt.'
Faber will take care of everything.
Maybe it was the thought of that reliable name, but a broad smile spread across my face in the mirror.
***
James Faber had been sitting at his desk daily these days. He moved his pen as if possessed, experiencing the joy of transferring ideas from his mind to paper. And it wasn't just going to stop at sketches; he was full of hope that everything he imagined would be produced with the highest quality.
Maybe that's why he had been working like a madman, even forgetting to sleep. Whenever he found a rare moment to relax, he inevitably reached for his coffee.
'One cup should keep me going for at least two hours.'
At that moment—
"They weren't kidding when they said business stops for no one."
His friend, Lukash, approached with a sly grin.
"When big money's involved, even stubborn Faber here turns into a goody-two-shoes."
"You think I'm doing this for the money?"
"Whoa, serious much? I'm just kidding."
"Not funny."
"Of course it's not funny. You're so absorbed in your work these days that nothing else interests you."
"Why? Are you sulking because I'm not hanging out with you?"
"Exactly! It's been months since I last saw you, and we haven't even had a proper catch-up."
Now that he mentioned it, he realized they hadn't even gone to a pub together. Not that it was surprising, really.
From the first day he arrived in London, he had gone straight to John Green, and ever since, he had been absorbed in his designs.
'Sure, I could make some time if I wanted to.'
But wasting time drinking felt pointless somehow.
Hmm.
In a way, it made sense that Lukash was grumbling.
"Cut me some slack."
"I mean, you've got all the time in the world—why are you going full throttle right from the start? Were you that starved for work?"
"Aren't you?"
"Yeah, I love it. That's why I called you over, but…"
He was implying that there was no need to sacrifice sleep for it.
"Is coffee a cure-all? You're gonna burn out. Your dark circles are almost black, man."
"I'm doing this because I enjoy it, so it's fine."
"Yeah, I get it. I'm saying let's make sure you enjoy it lo-ong, for a lo-ong time."
Faber let out a chuckle.
"Even if I lie down, I can't sleep."
"You're guzzling coffee—how could you sleep?"
"It's not because of that."
"Then what?"
That first night in London.
That night when he met with Director Park Ji-hoon and John Green.
When John Green mentioned that just as film is an art for directors, fashion is a stage for designers—that was the moment it all clicked.
He'd offered his sketches, daring them to turn him down if they could. In that scene, so much was decided.
It didn't matter that John Green gave his approval; at that moment, Faber felt certain. While it was flattering to hear that designers are the stars of fashion, turning fashion into a business was entirely the realm of businessmen.
Calling him brilliant felt inadequate. Calling it natural talent seemed too cliché.
'Damn it.'
He could whip up clothes with ease, yet somehow words constantly tripped him up.
No worries, though. Director Park Ji-hoon would handle the talking for him. So Faber could just focus completely on design…
As he came to that thought—
Tap, tap.
His feet moved on their own.
"Hey, where are you going in the middle of our conversation?"
"If I've had coffee, I should get back to work."
"Are you even listening? Your dark circles…"
But it didn't matter.
Faber just kept walking.