[The characters, places, organizations, incidents, and so on appearing in this work have no relation whatsoever to reality, and are fictional creations of the author’s imagination.]
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Henry wanted to deny reality for no good reason. Clinging to the faint hope that “No, surely the system can’t be that much of a thug,” he picked up the receiver again and called Gilberto.
“Gilberto, it’s me. Allocate another thirty-eight thousand dollars on top of what I just mentioned. Set the tax to exactly nineteen thousand dollars, pay it right now, and report back.”
There were two reasons he was being this persistent. One was to confirm that taxes under his personal name were directly connected to points, and the other was to check whether there existed “points below the decimal point” that simply weren’t displayed in the system.
If he added the nineteen thousand dollars this time to the fifty-one thousand dollars in taxes he had already paid, the total came to exactly seventy thousand dollars. If the exchange rate of one point per ten thousand dollars held true and decimal amounts could be accumulated, his points should have become 7. But the status window that opened again trampled Henry’s hopes without mercy.
[Remaining Points: 6]
‘...Fuck me. No doubt about it, it’s taxes under my personal name. And on top of that, there are no decimals, no rounding, no nothing. It’s purely a floor-down system.’
Henry clutched his head and wept tears of blood inside. His mind had already become as tangled as a ball of thread.
‘Wow... ah... Jesus goddamn. Fuck...’
He had to rebuild his plan from the roots up.
If he wanted to scrape together every last point, then all the cash-cow businesses he was going to launch from now on—the game console business, futures investments, Watts’s Orange, even the acquisitions of cable broadcasters CNC and ESTN—had to be carried out under his “personal name.”
But here, the worst possible obstacle appeared. The moment he dragged the trust’s enormous capital into personal investments, he would be caught violating the “Self-Dealing” rules that the IRS watched with eyes wide open. Under these vicious regulations, the trust had to move as the trust, and the individual had to move as the individual, as thoroughly separate strangers. How was he supposed to mass-produce points in that situation?
‘I’ve got the cheat key called the family trust right in front of my eyes, and yet I have to jump naked into Hellfire difficulty. Isn’t this difficulty way too high...?’
Now, to Henry, the trust was truly nothing more than future insurance to pass down to his descendants. What he had to grow right away was his personal fortune. As for taxes, the tax laws were insane enough to approach 70% for high-income earners. If he steadily grew only the assets under his personal name, there was no way he would run short of points.
But the problem was the public’s gaze. In order to peel off the label of an inherited rich kid, he would need personal PR capable of slapping the future Frump across the face. Only after completing the narrative of “a genius entrepreneur who started from scratch without help from his family and became self-made” could he step into the spotlight, receive less abuse, and give legitimacy to the taxes he would pour out for points.
Of course, rumors would be rampant, and the IRS’s tenacious investigations would follow, but this was the best option. However, as he had thought earlier, the biggest problem was that the assets under his personal name were far too insufficient to lay out such a massive game board.
‘What do I have under my name right now... eighty thousand dollars in cash and one building smack in the middle of a brothel district currently crawling with drug dealers? Fuck, I’m about to cry.’
There was the method of creating seed money by forcing a large-scale dividend, but that was impossible. Sure, the hundred thousand and forty thousand dollars from earlier were pocket change compared to the family’s total assets, so he had managed to wheedle them out. But if he said he was going to repeat that stupid stunt on a large scale, the family elders would surely clutch the backs of their necks and collapse!
‘I can’t use the accelerator called trust capital, and I can’t carelessly receive support from the family office under the trust either. I can already see those IRS bastards throwing a fit later over whether they helped my personal company or not. On top of that, if I keep paying taxes properly, the speed at which my wealth grows will be at the level of a crawling turtle. Fuck...’
“Hah... whew.”
Henry let out a deep sigh and calmed his excitement. Then, calmly, he racked his brain as if wringing it dry, trying to think of the advantages of this tax hell.
‘Advantages... Since I know for certain how to acquire points now, I can level up and produce clones? And since I’m paying taxes honestly, I don’t have to worry about the IRS? Other than that... is there nothing?’
At that moment, a thought flashed through Henry’s mind. If he had to step into the spotlight anyway, there was no need to move cautiously.
“Should I start big?”
Henry immediately ran to the family’s secret vault. Taking out the summary of future events he had written in advance, his eyes rapidly skimmed over the text. Inside that paper, mixed with Korean and ciphers, the great waves of history lay asleep.
‘That’s right, fuck. Since I’m stepping out front anyway, it actually feels refreshing.’
If his previous plan had been to become a secretive and cautious reclusive chaebol, now he would go with a flashy and overwhelming Iron Mans style. A crazy stunt with huge risks, but definite returns. Henry swallowed dryly as he stared at one sentence he had copied into his notebook. Henry swallowed dryly as he stared at one sentence he had copied into his notebook.
[1985: The Plaza Accord, and the beginning of Japan’s real estate bubble (~December 1989)]
‘Starting from now, 1979, I’ll prepare and inflate my personal seed money like crazy until the Plaza Accord in ’85. Then I’ll move into Japan, take the peak of the bubble, and get out. If I do that, my points will... wow, I might become a god.’
A turning point in history that everyone knew: the Plaza Accord. The value of the yen, which had been fluctuating between 240 and 280 yen per dollar, would skyrocket to the 120-yen range in just one year after this accord.
Japan right now was truly running at the peak of overgrowth. If he successfully set even one foot inside during this period, it was no different from a gold mine where success was guaranteed no matter what he did. Especially if he used future knowledge to properly squat on real estate, becoming one of the richest people in history within ten years was practically a foregone conclusion. The most important fact was that this future could not change no matter how much of a butterfly effect Henry caused.
‘Japan, huh... In novels, Japan during this period had no joke of a wariness toward foreign capital. What kind of bait could make those proud bastards lower their guard? If possible, something that perfectly fits my future businesses too.’
The essence of capitalism that Henry had painfully felt through reading novels and living in the real world was “Give and Take.” If you gave ten won, you received something corresponding to it in return. Even if the Japanese government was exclusionary, if he threw them what they craved most, he could pry open the tightly shut door.
‘That’s it, satellites! Broadcast satellites! Wasn’t the first satellite Japan launched going to start malfunctioning soon?’
If one knew the future, the most profitable field was undoubtedly finance, but that was the realm of specialized knowledge. The important business in Henry’s original plan, chosen when he had been an ordinary office worker, was a much more intuitive and certain field. Hollywood production companies.
‘With movies, you can see the answer just by looking at the title. Even without some genius sense, as long as you make it exactly like the original work, it’ll be a guaranteed jackpot. On top of that, the sex scandals that come to mind when you think of Hollywood tycoons... Kuh, now this is the standard formula of a chaebol story.’
The roadmap after multiplying his initial capital in Hollywood was clear as well. The hegemony of the media market in the ’80s and ’90s depended on broadcast satellites. Cable channels that could not ride satellite broadcasts could only remain at the level of mediocre local stations.
Even in the novels from his previous life, satellite companies were often depicted as “the top of the food chain among all top dogs,” wielding absolutely unchecked power.
‘There’s already [The Times] with its satellite broadcasting network, and if I gobble up another satellite company on top of that, the game is over. I’ll lay cable networks, conveniently make use of satellite broadcasting, and later advance into the internet business through communications infrastructure. At that point, I’ll be raking in money with a claw.’
That had been his thinking. On top of that, Henry had a clear role model. [Comcast]. A giant dinosaur that had seized control of the so-called “Triple-Play” of internet, home phone, and cable broadcasting, swallowing the terrestrial broadcaster [NBS], [Universel], and even Britain’s [Skay] broadcasting group.
‘[Comcast] was a major corporation ruling the world even until 2026. I’ll have to pave that path a little faster and more decisively!’
That had been his plan. Though now it had truly gone across the water. Besides, Henry knew quite a lot about this. That was why satellites immediately came to mind.
Henry recalled the chaebol novels he had read with great interest. He did not know the technical process of making satellites, but key events such as which satellite broke down when and which company changed the market landscape had been databased in his mind.
‘Acquire a satellite business and sell it to Japan as is? Right now, Japan is desperate for broadcast satellites because of the Olympics, so it would be nothing to take out loans using the company I acquire and my trust as collateral. With that, I build favorability with the Japanese government and create connections with major corporations, then seat my clone as a puppet president and preempt Japanese real estate? This is seriously fucking sweet.’
From the outside, it would look like a gamble burdened with overwhelming risk, but to Henry, who held the answer sheet called the Plaza Accord and the all-time real estate bubble, there was no such thing as risk.
If anything, he had to be more aggressive. With the mindset of “it’s Japan anyway,” what if he maxed out dollar loans, stocked up on ammunition, and paid them back after the yen’s value skyrocketed following the Plaza Accord? If things went well, the profits from his businesses in Japan alone would be enough to wipe out the loan principal and interest, with money left over. And if he succeeded in “running” from the peak right before the bubble burst?
At the thrilling thought alone, Henry’s Adam’s apple bobbed heavily as he gulped.
‘This is it, this! If I roll things like this, pulling out a million points a year from taxes alone—ten billion dollars in taxes—won’t just be a dream!’
Henry carefully placed the notebook containing his existing plans and the paper filled with Korean combination ciphers (갉갌갊) into the family’s secret vault, then returned to his office. The happy smile hanging from his lips showed no sign of fading.
‘The important thing for now is a satellite business. What acquisition target could I handle? [Hujo], the one the protagonist in the novel ate up? That place is already touching defense now, so its price will be too high. Ah, if only it were the early ’70s like for the actual protagonist, I could have picked it up right away. What a waste. I’ll need some help from experts on this...’
Henry immediately picked up the phone and contacted the intelligence team, which did not even have an official manager yet.
“Bring me a list of the top five commercial satellite manufacturers in the United States, especially broadcast satellite manufacturers. Investigate the possibility of acquisition for all of them and report back.”
If he wanted to earn the Japanese government’s trust, some shoddy hole-in-the-wall shop would not do. It had to be a name-brand company ranked at least within the top five to break the noses of the Japanese.
“Whew. As for the satellite, I can choose the target once the list comes out. Now the problem is the practical business to run inside Japan...”
Just like the famous maxim, “[McDonald] does not make money from hamburgers. They make money from real estate,” Henry’s mind also began spinning rapidly in order to catch the two rabbits of preempting real estate and earning business profits.
‘[Sebon-Eleven], which the protagonist in the novel ate up, would be perfect, but that requires acquiring the American headquarters, the Japanese license, and even touching the distribution network. The board is too big. Is there anything else? Hmm... ah, fashion!’
They would be common brands in the future, but right now, this was an era when Japan, followed by Korea and China, were blinded by and fanatically enthusiastic about American fashion and culture. , , and other brands whose names alone would be recognizable dominated an era.
Luxury goods needed no explanation. Starting with Japan during the bubble period, then Korea’s sellout frenzies, and then China’s sweeping shopping sprees. The three East Asian countries, with only a time lag between them, had taken turns handsomely serving as the wallets of the luxury industry.
“Check the luxury goods industry. I should also list up American clothing brands. For now, I’ll write down the ones I know.”
If Henry had his way, he wanted to swallow [Nevi’s], which would go on to write an undefeated legend for decades to come, whole. But even if 1979 was a recession, [Nevi’s] was a giant corporation shining at 174th place in [The Time] magazine’s rankings. Forget acquisition; even securing an exclusive license or distribution rights within Japan would be something to be grateful for.
The problem was that Henry himself did not really know which other brands were promising. In both his previous life and now, he was fashion-illiterate, the type to roughly grab and wear whatever happened to catch his eye in the closet.
‘If I slap labels like American casual on things, they’ll sell, but even that has to meet the basics to work. And I have to know something about fashion for that.’
Henry wanted, if possible, to pick a brand he had heard of in his previous life and whose price was manageable, but the situation in Europe, packed with luxury brands, was even more shrouded in fog. Even in the novels, the fashion industry had not been dealt with in any significant way, so he had no data.
“Other than that... since the Japanese go crazy for desserts, would donuts be good? No, wait. Why am I agonizing over this alone?”
Henry put down his pen and let out a hollow laugh.
“This is what I created think tanks and family offices to use them for. I just have to make them figure out the current status of the brands I point out, and have them investigate every item that might hit it big in Japan.”
Henry stretched easily. It was the moment he once again realized the truth that the taste of power and capital came from making other people do the work.