Chapter 57

It's obviously a nuclear bomb, stop overreacting!

"Ha ha!"

Mr. Big laughed heartily and raised his index finger at me, as if to say, "Look at him."

In the meantime, a waiter approached and served the appetizer. It was a soup, but it looked quite different from any soup I knew.

"Ah, I'll pay for the meal."

"Thank you! I'll enjoy it!"

"Ha ha, I'm a very busy person, so I'm sorry for calling you here. Due to the preparation time, I've already ordered what I wanted to eat. But in return!"

Kim Gyu-tae followed Mr. Big's lead and raised his index finger vertically. He was as serious about interpreting as he was about the auction.

Or maybe he had too much alcohol earlier.

"I'll let you choose the drinks."

At the same time, the waiter handed us the menu.

When I opened it, only alcoholic beverages were listed.

But.

"......It's so expensive."

Each item had an astronomical price tag.

$2200, $3600, $4500, $9700......

"Wow."

There were even bottles priced over $10,000, and the most expensive one was in the tens of millions of dollars.

.

.

.

[ Glenfiddich, 50 years: $38,000 ]

[ The Balvenie, 50 years: $50,000 ]

I had heard of Glenfiddich, but 50 years old? What's Balvenie?

How can a drink cost 60 million won?

"I'll pay, so choose whatever you like."

It wasn't a price range where I could choose comfortably.

I thought about ordering a glass, but everything was listed by the bottle.

"Mr. Kim, what should I do?"

I asked Kim Gyu-tae, who was putting on a great act.

"I don't know much about wine or whiskey. I want to choose something appropriate from what's here."

Kim Gyu-tae pondered for a moment and pointed to one.

"How about this one?"

$3600. That's 4 million won in our currency.

Yeah, yeah, but this is still a high-end drink, right?

"Okay, that's fine."

I pointed to that whiskey on the menu, and the waiter bowed and retreated.

"Slurp! Wow, the soup is delicious. Slurp slurp, slurp slurp!"

Meanwhile, Mr. Big was slurping the soup noisily, as if he had a vacuum cleaner in his mouth.

'......Huh?'

I read in a guide that it's polite not to make noise while eating in the West. I had been very careful about it during my trip.

'What's with this guy?'

Then, Mr. Big, with his nose buried in the soup, confessed first.

"Even if I'm a bit noisy, understand me. This is how it tastes best. You guys should eat as loudly as you want."

Is he serious?

Or is this a test?

I was pondering when Mr. Big spoke again.

"I'm a bit of a simple man. I enjoy eating with people who don't know who I am. It's the most comfortable and enjoyable setting for me."

"So that's why you invited us?"

"Half of it, yes."

I felt the same when I met Goo Goo-hyun.

The psychology of the upper class, or even the highest echelons, is hard to understand, even when you think you do.

And sometimes, when you think you don't understand, you do.

'If I were him, I'd probably do the same.'

Who I am, how high and great a person I am.

How uncomfortable would it be to eat with someone who is nervous and fawning because of my status? They wouldn't even dare to slurp.

Fine. Since he's treating us to a helicopter ride and a meal, and even paid $7 million for the auction.

I'll treat him like a neighbor. I'll eat comfortably, and that's good, right?

"Slurp! Wow, the soup is delicious. Slurp slurp, slurp slurp!"

Even without a common language, the vulgar sounds were mutually understood.

"Ah, client, that's a bit......"

"Ha ha ha!"

Kim Gyu-tae tried to stop me, but Mr. Big just laughed heartily.

"Look, Mr. Lawyer, eat comfortably. As if you're at home."

Following that, each course was served one by one, and the alcohol we ordered also arrived.

"Cheers."

I took a sip, and indeed, the expensive alcohol was different.

I don't know much about whiskey, but the aroma was much richer and more complex, like a high-quality coffee.

But.

"......It's so expensive."

I wondered if it was really necessary to drink such expensive alcohol.

"Ha."

"Ugh."

When I tasted it, it was indeed on a different level from the $3 million one.

The fresh fruit aroma burst, and a deep, rich wood scent lingered.

The smooth finish was also excellent.

'It is good.'

But I was still puzzled.

I thought about asking, but then I remembered.

'Mr. Big, you said it yourself. You prefer people who treat you casually because they don't know who you are.'

I decided to ask casually.

"It's so delicious. Thank you for treating us like this. But, is there a reason to spend $38,000 on this whiskey?"

"Client......"

Kim Gyu-tae hesitated, so I urged him to translate.

Mr. Big, who was cutting his scallops with a knife, glanced up and looked at me. Then he answered.

"You can think that way. But I'm curious why you thought that."

It wasn't a scolding or dismissive response.

I didn't mean to argue; I was genuinely curious about his thoughts, so I went ahead.

Then it's fine.

I laid out my thoughts comfortably.

"I was on a cafe tour a while ago. I took a bus to a cafe in New Jersey that day."

"Is that so? New Jersey has a great view of Manhattan."

"Right. But it happened to be rush hour. The road was heavily congested, and the bus was crowded."

"Oh."

"So, I found myself observing the people on the bus without realizing it...... It turns out everyone's life is the same."

"In what way?"

"I always thought of New York as a place of beauty. Wall Street, Broadway, Central Park......"

"Ha ha, isn't it the most beautiful city in the world?"

"Right. But the expressions of people commuting back to New Jersey on the bus were exactly the same as in Seoul."

It was true.

People often say that the subway during rush hour is like a bean sprout steamer.

The same was true here.

Everyone looked tired and stressed, focusing only on their headphones or phones.

"I didn't expect to see such people in New York. I only saw the shiny things. But in fact, many people are exhausted by their daily commutes and hold mediocre dinners in their hands."

"So?"

I took a deep breath and asked.

"Isn't the price of this drink about the same as someone's annual salary? No matter how much money you have, I can't drink this. It's just alcohol after all."

Then Mr. Big wiped his mouth with a napkin and answered.

"For someone who just made $7 million in one evening, you have a humble mindset."

"Is that so?"

"Think about it. If I spend $38,000 on just a bottle of this alcohol here, who benefits?"

"The owner of this restaurant, I guess."

"Isn't that a good thing? He can live somewhere other than New Jersey because he served me this rare alcohol in the world."

Mr. Big suddenly looked at the Manhattan skyline and continued.

"And with that money, he can do so much more. Pay taxes to the country, give salaries to the staff, and buy cute toys for his children to take home."

"......Is that right?"

"Does it end there? The staff, who received their salary, will be happy eating their favorite pudding at the supermarket. The employee who sold the toys might get a bonus from the boss."

Mr. Big held the Glenfiddich and turned it around. Then he said.

"But imagine. If I didn't buy this alcohol, where would their joy, their happiness go? Wouldn't it disappear?"

"......"

"Even if I drank 1,000 more bottles of this, I wouldn't be able to spend all my money before I die."

Mr. Big chuckled, adding, "My arteries would clog faster than my bank account would run dry."

"But are you saying I should save this money? Save it to give to those New Jersey people? If I don't spend money, they might not have to take that commuter bus to work?"

......As I listened, his words made sense, and I couldn't help but agree.

"Who would compensate the person who created this masterpiece? Who would reward the craftsmanship of making the world's best whiskey? If not me, who?"

Mr. Big laughed heartily and filled his empty glass with ice again.

"And I love whiskey. Naturally, I love the people who make the best whiskey. What's wrong with spending money on what I love?"

I felt like my brain was shattering.

Money should be saved.

Every penny should be saved and used wisely.

The days of living frugally flashed through my mind.

As I sat there in a daze, Kim Gyu-tae tapped my arm and relayed Mr. Big's words.

"If you still don't understand, watch closely."

Mr. Big made a phone call to someone.

Then he chatted for a bit.

Ding─

My phone rang.

It was a text message.

────────

Notice of Overseas Transfer

▶ Sender: Christies’s New York

▶ Amount: USD 6,685,000

▶ Recipient: Shin Yu-won

※ Overseas transfers of over 10 million KRW are automatically reported to the National Tax Service according to foreign exchange regulations.

※ Click here for immediate overseas transfer ☞ http://......

────────

......My heart almost stopped as I read the message.

If it's $6.685 million from Christie's New York.

It's probably the auction price of the white porcelain minus Christie's commission, which is about 8.3 billion KRW.

"Ugh......"

"Are you okay?"

Kim Gyu-tae was worried when I let out a groan.

So I showed him the text, and he was shocked too.

"There's no way this much money would come in at once."

Right, American banks have limits on international transfers, so it was supposed to come in bits and pieces.

Christie's said it would take 35 days.

But it was transferred in one lump sum.

'......What does this guy do?'

I stared at Mr. Big with my mouth open, but he just smiled.

"Congratulations. Thanks to my overconsumption, another person seems to be happy. Enjoy yourself. I'll be back from the restroom in a moment."

Damn...... That's so cool......

But I didn't have time to marvel at the huge amount or Mr. Big's generosity.

A string of text appeared before my eyes.

──Congratulations!

──You have fulfilled the condition 《1. Wealth》 for 《A Brilliant 30s: The End of the Tutorial》!

──Now, only one condition remains, 《2. Expertise》. Please do your best until the end!

I stretched out my arms and shouted.

"Ah!"

I was happy.

So happy.

The alcohol seemed to finally kick in.

"Yes! Yes!"

What does it matter if I jump around?

In this one-table restaurant, no one would say anything even if I slurped my food.

"Mr. Big! You are gorgeous!"

I heard a chuckle from the direction of the restroom.

"Client...... Are you okay?"

"Mr. Kim, as soon as we return to Korea, I'll pay you your fee plus a bonus. You've really worked hard!"

"Ah, that's fine. Congratulations."

Mr. Kim had mentioned that for art sales, 90% of the income is considered a necessary expense, so the tax would only be 10% of the sale price.

Still, it would be a huge tax.

I realized it again.

I had become rich.

"Ah......"

Then I remembered Mr. Big's words.

[ If I didn't buy this alcohol, where would their joy, their happiness go? ]

[ What's wrong with spending money on what I love? ]

Even when I thought about it again, it made sense.

Until now, I had lived to earn money.

I had earned money to survive.

But money is ultimately meant to be spent.

For the things I love.

For the things I believe are right.

'For a brilliant life.'

I was grateful to Mr. Big.

I was grateful for the delicious meal he bought.

I was grateful for his generous purchase of my white porcelain and his prompt payment.

I was grateful for the lesson that spending well is as important as earning well.

'Mr. Big, goodbye.'

Would it be okay to give him a gift following that lesson? Even if it means stretching my budget a bit?

"Excuse me, Mister!"

I called the waiter.

And I pointed to one of the drinks listed on the menu.

[ The Balvenie, 50 years: $50,000 ]

More expensive than the 50-year-old Glenfiddich.

I intended to gift him a 50-year-old Balvenie, priced at $50,000.

'What?'

But at that moment.

Another translucent text string appeared.

Preparation for a brilliant life

Expertise.

A phrase I had heard many times since I was young.

You need to develop expertise, become an irreplaceable expert, to survive.

But at this moment, as the text string appeared before my eyes.

It was a bit amusing to think about it again.

Isn't everything called expertise in the world ultimately a tool to earn money?

Perhaps it's an obvious point, but expertise that can't earn money isn't really expertise.

What was the name of that manga?

The kid who was good at eating live octopus?

He became popular on TV shows for his skill at eating live octopus from a young age, but as he grew older, he realized that being good at eating live octopus was nothing special.

You could interpret the manga in a different context.

But the core message was that being good at eating live octopus doesn't earn you money.

Being good at playing.

Being good at resting.

Remembering song lyrics to an absurd degree.

Being able to wiggle your ears or roll your tongue without touching them.

No one calls those skills expertise.

Why? Because they don't earn money.

So, I was pleased.

At the moment I decided to buy the 50-year-old Balvenie, the text string appeared.

'My expertise is not for earning money, it seems.'

We can earn money through Tamcoco.

But perhaps my expertise is about spending it well.

Now it's time to confirm that hypothesis.

To see if 《Expertise》 is really cleared, and if my expertise for a brilliant 30s is indeed about consumption.