After Junho finished the preliminary inspection, a few related government officials came out to the shelter—which was now more than ninety percent complete—for various inspections and site checks, and Baek Hail handled almost all of them.
First came Korea Electric Power and the electrical safety inspectors regarding the solar power system, but since it was not being sold commercially and was intended for one-hundred-percent self-consumption by the pension, there was no particular problem.
More importantly, the KEPCO staff had also been reached by the influence of people connected to Lee Dongcheol’s network, so like the environmental department officials who had inspected the wastewater treatment system, they too left doing nothing more than admiring the pension’s electrical setup.
The fire department was the same. They had nothing but praise for the shelter’s firefighting systems, which went beyond perfect and in some areas were downright excessive.
That was because the shelter had not merely gone so far as to separate the parking areas for gasoline- or diesel-fueled vehicles and electric vehicles.
In the electric vehicle parking zone especially, it had even adopted an advanced automatic fire suppression system: if a fire was detected in a vehicle, a suffocation-extinguishing cover fitted with sprinklers would descend from the ceiling to suppress the fire and prevent it from spreading.
The officials from the other departments—construction, public health and sanitation, and the rest—were no different.
Since Lee Dongcheol’s connections had obviously played no small role in all this, Junho met him separately and paid him another bonus, and starting in April of next year, he agreed to pay him an annual retainer of 100 million won as formal legal counsel.
***
“...You’ve dealt with me for a while now, Counselor, so I think by this point you understand my style.”
As usual, after finishing a meeting over a meal in a private room in a hotel lounge, and while sharing a glass of high-end wine on this particular day, Junho casually opened the subject.
“Of course. Is there something else you wanted to discuss?”
Lee Dongcheol asked with utmost politeness, and Junho deliberately put on a troubled expression.
“Well, you see. Since it’s a space for VIPs, we need to have a medical system in place in case something happens, don’t we?”
“Only naturally.”
As though he had already guessed part of it, Lee Dongcheol’s eyes glinted sharply behind his glasses.
“Even if I somehow manage to prepare trustworthy medical personnel through my own connections, the medical equipment and pharmaceuticals... especially the specialized drugs. Even the medical staff seem a little uneasy about that part.”
“Ah... I think I understand. That kind of thing is certainly a bit difficult unless the place is officially licensed as a medical facility.”
“Exactly. But it’s not like we’re going to build a hospital inside Our Pension... so I’ve been giving it some thought.”
Like the capable hunting dog he was, Lee Dongcheol immediately caught the hidden meaning in Junho’s words.
And without the slightest hesitation, he said,
“President Lee. That concern of yours... I may be able to solve it for you.”
“You can, Counselor?”
“Yes. First, please hear me out before misunderstanding. During the pandemic, there was a hospital where corruption was uncovered...”
In a low but precise voice, Lee Dongcheol laid it out.
There was a hospital where corruption had been exposed during the pandemic, the people involved had been reported, and corrective orders had been issued—but the hospital had decided to shut down instead.
So they were now planning to sell the real estate and export the medical equipment overseas in bulk. And his suggestion was this: what if they disguised it as having been exported to a third country and brought it into Our Pension instead?
“...We can finish everything perfectly—export invoices, shipping documents, the BL, even the logistics tracking number. The actual goods would simply be sent to Our Pension inside the container.”
“Really? But... I don’t know. Feels like that could cause some problems.”
“No. You don’t need to worry at all. We’ll disguise it as an export in the form of a donation, and once the export declaration clears customs, no one checks which port it actually got unloaded at after that.”
“Hm.”
Junho nodded as if telling him to continue.
Then Lee Dongcheol lowered his voice even further.
“And if the declared arrival port is somewhere like Myanmar or Iraq? Those are regions where arrival confirmation is already shaky to begin with, and with the pandemic and civil conflict on top of that... no one checks. Or rather, they can’t. Even if someone did, we’d just process it as lost and that’d be the end of it.”
“Hm. I see. The export route would be fully official, I assume?”
“Of course. The export itself goes through electronic customs clearance properly. I know a paper company we can use. We’d file it as an export for donation purposes, and if we arrange it so that’s how the hospital understands it too, there won’t be any problem.”
“Hm...”
Junho looked tempted but still outwardly hesitant, and Lee Dongcheol immediately pressed on.
“The medical equipment is in good condition, and the surgical tools especially are a full set. If you’re interested, President Lee, I’d say... 120 million won should be enough to secure the equivalent of an emergency room.”
Judging by the way he hesitated very slightly when naming the amount, the real price was probably closer to 100 million. The extra 20 million would be his cut.
If he had been dealing with some ordinary rich man, that person either would not have suspected anything or would have brightened at the offer.
But Junho was not that kind of man.
Because he knew exactly how to handle Lee Dongcheol, a born son of a bitch.
A crooked smile tugged at his mouth.
Wearing a meaningful smile as if to say I know exactly what’s going on in your head, Junho spoke in an easy tone.
“Then let’s make it 150 million. Aside from the actual cost of acquiring the equipment, handle the rest however you see fit, Counselor.”
“......!”
For just a moment, Lee Dongcheol’s eyes widened slightly.
Junho then spoke again in a cool, businesslike voice.
“But make sure every palm is greased properly, and there can’t be even the slightest problem.”
Lee Dongcheol swallowed dryly without realizing it, then nodded.
“Of course. As always, there won’t be any problem whatsoever.”
“Yes, I trust you. By this point I know your skills well.”
“Thank you.”
Lee Dongcheol smiled too, and after clinking glasses with him, Junho asked again,
“But what about pharmaceuticals? Is that part difficult?”
“Ah, that... would it be all right if I look into it a bit more and get back to you?”
“Go ahead. Still, it’d be better if this doesn’t roll over into next year.”
“If things move quickly, next week. At the latest, within two weeks.”
“All right. Keep up the good work.”
After sharing a few more drinks like that, Junho parted ways with Lee Dongcheol.
Watching through the rearview mirror as the lawyer politely saw him off into the car with the designated driver and then turned to walk back into the hotel lobby, Junho let out a quiet snort of amusement.
He’s definitely going to reach out to the Volcano Group.
One of the main revenue streams of the Volcano Group, the most powerful Russian mafia outfit in Busan, was smuggling.
They did not touch vicious narcotics like meth or fentanyl, but Viktor Volk Choi had once said they smuggled other pharmaceuticals manufactured in Eastern Europe or Russia into Korea and Japan.
So if Lee Dongcheol—the man who provided legal advice to the front businesses run by the Busan branch of the Volcano Group—was going to source prescription drugs, there was nowhere else he could go.
Medical equipment is one thing, but pharmaceuticals are a different matter. There’s a very high chance he’ll try to connect me directly.
And if not, Junho could simply say he wanted to meet them himself.
No, if anything, it was even more likely that the Volcano Group would insist on meeting a new “client” in person.
Unlike medical equipment, which lasted a long time once procured, pharmaceuticals had to be repurchased regularly.
And there was no mafia dumb enough to accept someone as a customer—someone whose identity they knew nothing about—just because a lawyer vouched for them.
Volk... I’ll finally get to see him.
Thinking of the half-Koryo-saram mafioso with the broad, manly face and striking blue eyes—a man who, all things considered, had saved his life just as much as Junho had saved his—a faint smile touched Junho’s lips.
***
While Baek Hail dealt with the various officials coming to the shelter, Junho met Lee Dongcheol, settled the issue of medical equipment and pharmaceuticals, and then began contacting factories that produced the goods the shelter would need.
The first place he approached was a factory that made sealed containers for the food and daily necessities to be stored in the shelter’s general warehouse, cold-storage warehouse, and ultra-low-temperature freezer warehouse.
Ordinary sealed containers were fine for the general warehouse and cold-storage warehouse, but for the ultra-low freezer, they needed special airtight containers made of materials that would not crack even at minus forty degrees Celsius and could still maintain a seal.
So he ordered multilayer airtight containers with bodies made of polycarbonate or high-density polyethylene, coated on the inside with ethylene vinyl alcohol copolymer, and fitted with lids that used silicone gasket seals.
It sounded impressive, but it was not actually that difficult a product to make, so Junho placed an initial order with a suitable factory for two thousand 20-liter specialty airtight containers at 2,500 won apiece.
Why 20 liters specifically?
Because whether it was rice, meat, or canned goods of all kinds, once you accounted for the extra space needed for oxygen absorbers and moisture-control packets, that was the most suitable size for storing things in ten-kilogram units.
And the reason he ordered only two thousand instead of buying everything all at once was because this, too, was meant to be tested for about a year first.
Anyway, after purchasing the specialty airtight containers, Junho went around various supermarkets and bought large quantities of food items close to expiration, without caring about the type.
Of course, even “large quantities” did not add up to much in total cost.
He loaded them onto a refrigerated box truck he had already contracted, transported them to a vacuum-packaging company, and after hygienic processing, asked for them to be packed in ten-kilogram units.
Then he added oxygen absorbers and moisture-control packets in the appropriate amounts, placed everything into the specialty airtight containers, sealed them completely, and loaded them into the shelter’s cold-storage warehouse and ultra-low freezer warehouse, which had now begun full operation.
If he took them back out in June 2023 and again in December 2023, tested their contents, and personally tasted them with no issues, then the shelter’s food-storage system would be complete.
And once he liquidated the NVIDIA shares in March 2024 and secured 20 billion won, if he then used that money to buy and stockpile massive quantities of food, seeds, fertilizer, feed, and every other item that could be kept long-term at ultra-low temperatures of minus forty degrees Celsius...
Then for at least thirty years, worries about food would disappear entirely.
***
“Jesus, this is exhausting. Next time, can’t we just hire people? You said next time the amount’ll be several times bigger than this.”
After spending more than a week going from market to market with Junho—buying food, loading it into sealed containers, hauling it to the warehouse, and generally suffering the whole way—Junhyeok let out a groan of complaint.
And it did not sound like empty whining either. Junho himself could feel a faint ache in his body, so all he could do was nod.
“Let’s do that. We’ll rent an empty warehouse somewhere, hire people to do the work there, and we’ll just move it to the shelter. At this rate, we might work ourselves to death before the apocalypse even comes. Still, doesn’t it feel satisfying?”
“That part’s true. Anyway, this stuff is seriously fucking good. It’s been way past the expiration date, but it’s totally fine.”
The brothers were finally cooking and eating the food they had stored last fall in the freezer using vacuum-sealing, oxygen absorbers, moisture-control packets, and airtight containers.
The ramen was more than ten months past expiration, and the frozen dumplings were over half a year old too, but the dumpling ramen they were eating now smelled and tasted completely normal.
“When something goes rancid and the taste is shot, you get hit with the smell the second you open the package. But this? It was completely fine, right? Honestly, it probably would’ve been okay even if we’d waited a few more months.”
“This is seriously wild.”
Savoring the power of proven modern science through a bowl of dumpling ramen shared with his younger brother, Junho became certain.
If even this—food kept in the freezer compartment of an ordinary household refrigerator—had held up this well, then the food and supplies recently stored under strict conditions in the shelter’s cold-storage warehouse and ultra-low freezer warehouse would be absolutely perfect.
