WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: LilGuyBlastoise
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Second Life of the Trade King ◈
Chapter 4: Grain Ship Supply Bidding (2)
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Father folded the newspaper and sat still for a long time.
He looked as though he were going through old connections one by one.
Just as I began to think the silence had gone on long enough that he might not answer, Father slowly spoke.
“...There’s a Captain Choi.”
“Captain Choi?”
“He was a chief mate at our Yeongdo Shipping. After the company went under, he started a small transport firm. I hear he takes on cargo handling and transport for foreign ships near Busan Port. I haven’t seen him since we met about five years ago.”
“...”
“That man will help you.”
He opened the counter drawer, took out an old notebook, and slowly flipped through it page by page before stopping at one.
A phone number was written there in faded ink, with the name Choi Young-tae in small letters beside it.
“This was his number five years ago, so I don’t know if he still uses it. Go see him. Tell him you’re Kim Sam-sik’s son, and he’ll know.”
“Thank you.”
But Father raised an eyebrow, then tilted his head.
“Still... he’s not an easy man to deal with.”
“Pardon?”
“He won’t ignore you if you call because of an old connection. But he’s not the kind of guy who helps someone else at a loss, either.”
“Ah...”
“It depends on you. Got it?”
This was more than enough for me.
“Of course. I’ll handle it.”
Early the next morning, I headed for the meat wholesale district in Bujeon-dong.
The place looked completely different from Jagalchi Market. Large warehouse-style shops lined the street, and through their entrances I could see huge cuts of meat hanging from hooks inside refrigerated storage rooms.
The moment I entered an alley, the raw smell of blood hit my nose.
The name Dong-gwang Meat came to mind.
It had been a major player in Busan’s market for beef supplied to foreign vessels until the mid-1990s.
It was probably still establishing itself now.
Around the middle of the alley, I spotted a sign for Dong-gwang Meat.
When I entered, the owner, in their late forties and wearing work clothes, was discussing something with an employee beside a cutting board.
They gave me a quick glance and asked bluntly,
“What’re you here to buy?”
It was the same opening line, but their tone differed from that of the owner of Hae-seong Fisheries at Jagalchi Market. The look on their face said that the idea of a student entering a meat wholesale shop was absurd.
“I’m preparing a foreign-vessel provisioning bid, and I’d like a quote for beef. Enough for twenty-eight people for twenty-five days, Australian or American beef.”
The owner froze for a moment, stared at me, then laughed toward the employee beside them.
“Hey, Mr. Kim, did you hear that? This student says he’s bidding to supply a foreign ship.”
The employee laughed along with the owner.
It was that distinctly Korean attitude of What could a kid possibly know?
“I came here because I seriously want a quote. For the full amount, twenty-eight people for twenty-five days.”
Only then did the owner stop laughing and look at me again. I pulled out my registration certificate from my inner pocket and set it on the counter. They scanned it once.
“...You really mean to buy?”
“Yes.”
Reluctantly, they brought out a price list, still watching me with doubtful eyes.
Ignoring the owner’s stare, I looked over the prices for Australian strip loin, Australian ribs, American chuck, assorted cuts, and more.
The beef prices on the provisioning-company bid quote Mr. Park had shown me were nearly triple Dong-gwang Meat’s wholesale price.
The markup was even worse than the two-and-a-half times charged for food ingredients at Jagalchi Market.
And Dong-gwang Meat’s wholesale prices themselves were reasonable even compared to Japanese wholesale rates.
In other words, the inflated price was not because market prices were high. Daeseong Fisheries & Produce had been buying at normal wholesale prices, then tripling them to create its bid price.
Just as I had expected.
“If I take the entire amount for twenty-eight people over twenty-five days, can you adjust the price?”
“How much?”
After I told the owner the quantity, they did some calculations and spoke.
“I’ll take three percent off the wholesale price. Cash, right?”
“Yes.”
Once the deal was settled, the owner looked at me with an odd expression.
“Your name?”
“Kim Hyun-woo.”
“Where should I contact you?”
“Kim Sam-sik Parts in Yeongdo District. I’m there every day.”
“...Kim Sam-sik? Ah, President Kim from Yeongdo Shipping.”
Their expression shifted slightly. They recognized the name, but did not ask further questions.
“Don’t tell anyone you’re buying from us. If Daeseong Fisheries & Produce finds out, it’ll be a headache.”
“That much is easy... Just make sure the meat is good.”
“I don’t play games with meat. You’ll see.”
“Yes! Thank you!”
I left the shop and immediately headed to my next destination.
I crossed back from Bujeon-dong toward Yeongdo District and used a public phone at the entrance to an alley to dial the number in the notebook.
It rang for a long time.
I was nervous, unsure whether a number from five years ago was still in use, but eventually a woman who sounded like an employee answered.
“Young-tae Shipping.”
“Ah... Is Mr. Choi Young-tae there? Please tell him Kim Sam-sik’s son is calling. I’d like to meet him.”
“Please wait a moment.”
For a while, the faint bustle of an office came through the receiver. Then the employee picked up again.
“He says to come this afternoon.”
“Could I come now? It’s urgent.”
Another brief wait.
I heard someone say something shortly on the other end. Then the employee’s voice returned.
“He says to come right away.”
“Thank you.”
At least the name Kim Sam-sik’s son had worked. That was a relief.
Young-tae Shipping was near the docks in Dongsam-dong, Yeongdo District.
It was not far from Yeongdo Bridge.
The office occupied a small, one-story building. The exterior was old, but the interior was orderly. Five or six employees were working, and the door to the owner’s office at the back stood half open.
I knocked and entered.
A man sat behind the desk.
“Hello. I’m Kim Hyun-woo.”
He was a man in his late fifties, with closely cropped gray hair, a lean frame, and a face darkened by the sun.
As expected of a former chief mate, he sat straight and had a commanding presence.
He gave me a quick look, then pointed to the chair in front of his desk.
“Sit.”
His words were brief and blunt.
Once I sat, he slowly examined me.
Perhaps because I was dressed as a student, he merely stared for a while.
Finally, he spoke.
“They said you’re President Kim’s son.”
“Yes.”
“...That man was a truly good person back then. So why are you here?”
“I’ve gotten the chance to bid on provisioning a foreign vessel, and I wanted to entrust the transport and cargo handling to a reliable company. My father recommended you.”
Mr. Choi paused at the unexpected answer.
Then he snorted.
“You’re doing it, not President Kim?”
“Yes.”
“What do you know?”
“I know a thing or two.”
“What kind of answer is that? Do you know, or don’t you?”
He wanted confidence, not awkward humility, so I answered plainly.
“I know.”
“Is that so?”
He suddenly opened his desk drawer, pulled out a sheet of paper, and slid it across the desk.
“This is my transport rate sheet. Tell me which rates are fair and which ones are inflated.”
I took the paper and looked it over.
It was a rate sheet for short-distance transport around Busan Port. It listed the charges for transport from an Australian grain ship to the supply warehouse, from the warehouse to the dock, and for cargo handling between the dock and the vessel. The hourly labor rate was also organized by item.
The 1988 Busan Port short-haul transport rates he had given me automatically compared themselves with the Japanese and Southeast Asian port rates that remained clear in my mind from before my return.
Busan’s rates were not especially expensive.
About seventy percent of Japanese port rates, perhaps?
Only one item, the hourly labor rate, was slightly high.
“Overall, they look fair.”
“Yeah?”
“However, the hourly labor rate looks a little higher than other companies’... Is that because your company directly employs its workers? The rate is higher, but the work is stable, so I assume you priced it that way.”
Choi Young-tae’s eyes widened slightly.
He studied me for a moment, then asked,
“Where did President Kim’s second son learn something like that?”
“I’ve looked at trade materials at school.”
It was a conveniently vague excuse.
“Huh...”
He collected the rate sheet and slowly leaned back in his chair, looking at me again.
His expression had changed greatly from before.
“So, how are you planning this provisioning job for the Australian grain ship?”
His earlier question had been meant to gauge my abilities. This was the real question, to see whether I could be trusted as a business partner.
“I set the bid price at seventy-five percent of the average charged by provisioning companies. I’ve secured an eighteen percent margin. For food ingredients, I got five percent and three percent below wholesale from Hae-seong Fisheries at Jagalchi and Dong-gwang Meat in Bujeon-dong. We’ll keep the existing suppliers for fresh water and lubricants.”
“How’d you get those prices?”
I was about to dodge the question, but I decided I could not look evasive before someone as sharp as him.
So I told him honestly.
“Daeseong Fisheries & Produce has monopolized the market for five years by putting lock-in pressure on Jagalchi and the meat wholesalers. From the wholesalers’ perspective, they sell to Daeseong Fisheries & Produce at normal prices, and Daeseong adds an inflated markup to create its bid price. Meanwhile, wholesale prices themselves stayed the same. So if I deal directly with the wholesalers, the price drops by half.”
Slightly surprised, Mr. Choi began tapping the desk slowly with his fingers.
“Then Daeseong Fisheries & Produce won’t sit still.”
“No.”
“You know that and you’re still going in?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think our company shares the risk, or not?”
“You do share it. If your company handles the transport, Daeseong Fisheries & Produce will pressure you too. If Young-tae Shipping has other business they can target, they might shake that up. If you don’t take on that risk, I can’t do this.”
The corner of Mr. Choi’s mouth lifted slightly.
“Well, look at this kid. You’re honest. So how will you compensate us for that risk?”
“I’ll give thirty percent of the profit from the first deal to your company as risk compensation. Not added to the transport rate, but separately. The rate will remain a normal rate, and the risk compensation will come out of my profit.”
He fell into thought, and I waited without rushing him.
Soon, he shook his head.
“Risk compensation sounds good, but business is all about trust. Me turning against Daeseong Fisheries & Produce because of you? The numbers don’t work. Food suppliers only have to hand over the goods once they’re paid, but we’re different.”
“Does that mean it’s difficult?”
“I’m sorry, but go. I want to help, but what can’t be done can’t be done.”
It was natural for him to think that way, but I could not give up.
So I decided to become a little more serious.
Like when I had the body of a man in his fifties before my return.
“Mr. Choi.”
“What?”
“Before coming here, I looked into things. I heard Young-tae Shipping only handles short-distance routes around Busan Port... Isn’t that because Daeseong Fisheries & Produce has all the business tied up and you couldn’t get in?”
Mr. Choi’s eye twitched.
He was clearly displeased, but I continued without losing momentum.
“If my bid is accepted, your company will be taking its first step into that market. If that happens, isn’t it worth accepting the risk of one five-year business relationship being shaken up?”
Perhaps I had touched an unexpected sore spot. His fingertips trembled slightly.
“This kid... What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t that right? If not, then I must have been mistaken. I apologize. Since you say it can’t be done, I’ll look for another company.”
I said that, but I did not rise from my chair.
Both he and I knew it was an obvious act, but that was fine.
It was how we confirmed each other’s intentions.
Sure enough, a faint curve formed at the corner of his mouth as his interest was finally piqued.
“All right. I’ll help you once.”
“...”
“I’m not helping because you’re President Kim’s son. I’m helping because you’re honest.”
It was obviously a lie, but I did not mind.
“Thank you.”
“If this goes well and you come back for a second deal, you don’t need to give us the thirty percent risk compensation then. I’ll only take it for the first deal. Understand?”
Either way, it meant that if the first deal went well, we would be equal partners afterward.
That was not bad.
“Yes, I understand. Thank you.”
With that, every quote for the bid was complete.
Now it was time to take them to Mr. Park.
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