Another family gathering after quite some time.
Perhaps because there was an interesting issue to discuss, Father and Jiho were both unusually excited.
Seeing the two of them chattering nonstop over something even before the meal began, Suho asked,
“Looks like you’ve gotten yourselves into something interesting.”
“Heh heh, Suho, your little brother went and caused quite a stir. Heh heh heh.”
“What is it? Let’s take a look.”
As Suho pulled his chair closer, Jiho held out the tablet. On its screen was an island.
An island located in Sinan County, South Jeolla Province.
It covered 172,562 square meters, or 52,200 pyeong—a fairly large island.
It had been classified as a “semi-conservation uninhabited island,” but had recently been upgraded to an “available uninhabited island.” With a little lobbying, it might even be possible to have it designated as a “developable uninhabited island.”
Father was beaming from ear to ear, apparently delighted by something.
“I only said it would be nice to have somewhere I could go fishing while camping now and then, and Jiho here went and bought something like this outright. Heh heh heh heh.”
“Come on, Dad, it wasn’t that expensive. And how can you be satisfied already? This is just the beginning. We still need to put up buildings and equip the place with everything it needs, one thing at a time.”
Suho looked at Jiho with a pleased expression.
The guy who had once been floundering in the depths of gambling was now doing a decent job at TDM, trying to pursue a relationship, and spending the money he earned in such a sound manner. Suho couldn’t have been prouder.
Buying an island for fishing... Both Father and Jiho really knew how to enjoy life.
Perhaps Suho was the only one among his family who hadn’t yet adjusted to their vastly increased wealth.
Buying an island, decorating it, and enjoying it.
That simple attitude of finding joy in such small things was something he really needed to learn.
As he listened to Jiho proudly describe his purchase, Suho was amazed by how cheap the island had been. It was so large, yet had cost only around two billion won.
Perhaps the cost of turning it into a livable place would be far greater than the purchase price of the island itself.
In any case, he couldn’t let himself be left out of such a pleasant occasion, so Suho joined in.
“An island, huh? Islands are nice. An excellent decision. Properties of this size don’t come on the market very often. You were lucky to find it.”
“Yeah, I’ve actually been interested in islands for a long time, so I’d look at them every now and then just to pass the time. Then a decent property happened to pop up, so I bought it on the spot.”
“Good job. Good job. Is there anything you need? Building everything will cost a lot of money. I’ll chip in.”
“I have plenty of money too. Our boss is so generous, you have no idea how much he pays us...”
“Haha...”
The salaries TDM paid its managers were indeed rather high. Especially the amounts Seongsik and Jiho received—they were beyond imagination.
“Oppa, since you’re building the place anyway, make it fancy. Can’t you put in something like a resort? If it had facilities like that, it would be nice to take our company’s team members and the idol trainees we’re raising there for company retreats and things.”
The band that had once heatedly discussed whether music was merely a hobby or something they genuinely wanted to pursue had disbanded several months ago due to the members’ circumstances. Suzy, who had been depressed for a while afterward, had turned down joining TDM or any of Suho’s other ventures, instead founding an entertainment company of her own, saying she would create innovative K-pop content.
Hopefully, that one would last a while.
“Uh, i-idols? S-sure, why wouldn’t it work?”
A resort?
Jiho had been envisioning a fishing island with a small lodging facility, but the sudden expansion in scale made his eyes gleam.
“Anyway, I’ll support you somehow. Oh, and if you’re going back and forth, don’t you need some boats? I’ll buy you a few suitable ones.”
“Ah...! B-boats. We do need boats. I’ll be grateful and put them to good use.”
Suho decided to buy him several fairly sizable boats. He also resolved to give him a few quadcopters for fast transportation.
Fortunately, the subject of Suho’s marriage never came up that day, and the meal and gathering ended peacefully.
After spending time with his family until late and returning home, Suho fell into deep thought.
An island... Islands were nice.
But the western coast wasn’t ideal. There was too much tidal flat.
It would have to be the southern coast... No. The water was too shallow there as well.
When it came to the sea, wasn’t the East Sea the obvious choice?
A cool, deep-blue sea.
But there were no islands in the East Sea that he could simply buy with money. It wasn’t as though he could purchase Dokdo or Ulleungdo.
‘Ah...?’
Something flashed through his mind. Having thought of a new possibility, Suho was about to call someone when he glanced at the clock. He held back and went to sleep for the time being.
He would deal with it tomorrow morning.
* * *
“You mean constructing an artificial island?”
“Yes, in the East Sea. Somewhere around between Ulleungdo and Dokdo would be nice...”
The Minister of Land, Infrastructure and Transport broke out in a cold sweat that morning at Suho’s sudden call.
It was an utterly absurd proposal. The construction of the new city was still far from complete, so what on earth was this man planning now?
Of course, he couldn’t say any of that out loud.
How could he dare, in front of someone like him?
He drew a deep breath and focused once more on his conversation with Suho.
From what Suho was saying, he wanted to build an artificial island. Well, with enough money and ability, there was nothing that couldn’t be done, but the fact that he insisted on the East Sea made things complicated.
“Is there a particular reason it has to be the East Sea? The West Sea... or perhaps...”
“No, nowhere else. I definitely want it in the East Sea. In a deep-water area.”
“Ahem... Let me briefly explain what I know.”
“Yes. Please do.”
“If you intend to pursue the development of a large-scale island, a great deal of coordination will be necessary. The Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport and the Ministry of Oceans and Fisheries will first need to approve the overall plan, but I expect that to proceed without much difficulty. After all, it is you, Suho Admite-nim. The Ministry of Environment will also analyze issues related to marine environmental protection, such as environmental impact assessments and ecosystem preservation. On top of that, an enormous budget will be required, but since you have plenty of money, I’ll skip that part.”
“So once we have the legal basis and secure the budget, can we begin construction?”
“Well... there are some international issues involved. Especially in the East Sea. It is a semi-enclosed sea bordered not only by South Korea but also by Japan, North Korea, and Russia, and it overlaps sensitively with areas in which each country claims an exclusive economic zone, or EEZ. As you know, the country with which we have the greatest conflicts is...”
“Japan.”
“That’s right. Securing the legal basis within South Korea itself should not be particularly difficult, but diplomatic coordination with Japan will inevitably be necessary. Japan still claims sovereignty over Dokdo, after all.”
“Ha... I see. So Japan is the problem. I’ll try dealing with that myself. In the meantime, please help secure domestic approval. Oh, and one more thing—could you introduce me to an expert in this field?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. Then...”
Having suddenly been handed such an absurd assignment, the Minister of Land, Infrastructure and Transport hastily ended the call with a dazed expression.
A headache seemed to be coming on first thing in the morning.
Several days later, Suho met with the scholars introduced by the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport and asked them a barrage of questions about constructing an artificial island.
“What are some successful examples of artificial islands?”
“If you mean successful cases, there are artificial islands like Palm Jumeirah...”
“Oh. So that was an island.”
The scholars looked at Suho with expressions that seemed to say, *What kind of ignoramus is this?*
In truth, they appeared even more dumbfounded that he had taken an interest in artificial islands while possessing such a limited understanding of them.
One of them spoke with a skeptical expression.
“The waters around Palm Jumeirah are only about fifteen meters deep. The artificial island where Kansai International Airport is located also sits in waters roughly eighteen to twenty meters deep. We consider depths in that range suitable for constructing an artificial island. Even at that depth, building an island requires millions of tons of sand and rock. But around Ulleungdo... the depth is entirely unsuitable.”
“Huh? I heard there was a somewhat elevated area around Ulleungdo... What was it called again...”
As Suho scratched his head, trying to recall something he had heard in passing, another scholar answered.
“You must be referring to the Ulleung Plateau, located in the waters east of Ulleungdo.”
“Ah, right. That.”
“The Ulleung Plateau is a flat, elevated submarine plateau rising from the seabed of the East Sea, including the area around Ulleungdo. It is closely related to the geological formation of Ulleungdo. As you said, the Ulleung Plateau is a relatively shallow region even among the deep waters of the East Sea. Its depth is approximately two to three hundred meters.”
“Whoa, you call that shallow?”
“Of course. The waters around the Ulleung Plateau plunge sharply and lead into the Ulleung Basin, where the average depth exceeds two thousand meters. That is why I said it was not a feasible depth.”
However, from their perspective, Suho’s expression showed no sign that he was even considering giving up.
“Hmm... As for the submarine terrain called the Ulleung Plateau, is it large enough?”
“It is enormous. It is generally estimated to cover thirty thousand square kilometers. You could think of it as roughly one-third the size of South Korea.”
“Wow, then it’s plenty big enough. So if we just fill in two hundred meters, that means it’s possible to build an artificial island on the Ulleung Plateau.”
“In theory...”
“Theory becomes reality.”
Suho smiled brightly. The scholars looking at him seemed to be thinking, *This youngster still hasn’t properly understood. How are we supposed to make him understand...?*
Since few people truly knew the extent of Suho’s abilities, he was accustomed to receiving looks like that.
Ignoring them, Suho continued asking detailed questions and learned about a wide range of matters: the thorough environmental assessments needed to determine the artificial island’s impact on the surrounding marine ecosystem; the foundational structures that would have to be built on the seabed; the creation of a sturdy and stable seabed foundation capable of resisting waves and currents; and the process of forming the island by piling materials such as sand, stone, and concrete atop that foundation.
Unlike natural islands, artificial islands would not be protected from waves and currents, so he also made sure to remember that physical breakwaters would need to be constructed around the island.
As for infrastructure such as water and electricity supplies, road construction, and building construction, he had seen those so many times during the new city project that he already had a rough outline in his mind.
An artificial island born from the impulse he’d gotten after Jiho bought an island— even Suho had to admit the idea seemed rather childish.
But whether it was childish or not didn’t matter. What mattered was that he thought it would be incredibly fun.
* * *
“Why didn’t you send support to Japan?”
Park Seoyeon asked from inside the octocopter flying toward the quarry for the clan’s second practical training session.
“Japan? Ah, you mean Japan’s ninety-second-floor tower? Why?”
“It’s just... Given your personality, Clan Master, I thought you would have immediately volunteered to provide support there too.”
Suho fell silent for a moment at Park Seoyeon’s question.
*Did I really give off the impression of being an apostle of justice?* Considering how he had stuck his nose into international issues and conflicts here and there, he supposed someone might think that.
But there was a clear reason he had not supported Japan’s ninety-second-floor tower.
“There are many reasons. But if I had to name the two biggest ones, the first is that it takes too much time. Anyone who participates would have a gap of nearly two hundred and seventy days in their lives. We were still in the process of forming a new clan, after all.”
“Ah, that’s true.”
“The second is that I would have no say in selecting the members. High-grade towers have to be conquered exclusively by S-rankers. In other words, the participants wouldn’t be people who originally belonged to a single clan, right? On top of that, we would have to accept foreign members we didn’t even know properly and proceed without any real central force holding everyone together... I felt that was bound to lead to danger. I didn’t want to send our members into such an uncertain risk.”
“Hehe... Our members, huh? It feels nice just hearing you say that.”
Park Seoyeon’s cute face flushed as she smiled brightly.
Before long, the quarry came into view, and the three octocopters began to descend.
After every member disembarked, the clan members of Ultimate Line moved to the center of the quarry with Suho.
“We’re fighting the rock golems again today, right? One per team?”
“After trying it last time, I think we had a little room to spare.”
“Couldn’t we handle two?”
“Come on, no matter how you look at it, two per team is too much.”
Suho smiled faintly as he watched them whisper among themselves.
Danbi, Taewoong, Joshua, and Thomas had a rough idea of what was coming, but the other clan members still had no idea.
Suho took something enormous and black, something crouched down, out of subspace and placed it in the center.