Chapter 4: An Unexpected Connection

“Are you familiar with the Korean Empire?”

Lee Jun-hyuk asked in surprise.

Most Americans didn’t even know where Korea was.

They usually thought it was just a small region somewhere near China.

“Of course I know. When you’re in business, you have to be aware of global affairs.”

Mr. Morgan pulled something out from his desk drawer.

It was an old newspaper clipping.

“The Russo-Japanese War of 1905. Everyone expected Japan to win, but the outcome was different. Russia won the Battle of Mukden, and the entire course of the war changed.”

Lee Jun-hyuk held his breath.

He knew history could differ, but it was the first time he’d heard such specifics.

“Thanks to that, the Korean Empire was able to maintain its sovereignty. But it was still a poor, agricultural nation, I heard.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“So, is that why you came here to study? To help develop your homeland?”

Lee Jun-hyuk nodded.

He wasn’t sure why his original master had sent him to study abroad, but it was probably for that reason.

The servant brought in tea.

“Thank you.”

It was warm black tea.

The fragrant aroma teased his nose.

Mr. Morgan took a sip and continued.

“Actually, about ten years ago, I met some Korean Empire merchants. They wanted to import ginseng.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They came from Busan. Was it Kim? Or Park? Anyway, honest people. We didn’t close a deal, but I got a good impression.”

So that’s why the photo in the corridor had East Asians.

Suddenly, Lee Jun-hyuk grew curious.

“Are there still American companies trading with the Korean Empire?”

“Not many. Mostly indirect trade through Japan. Direct transactions are rare. Transportation costs are high, and, above all, I hear the Korean Empire lacks proper trade infrastructure.”

That made sense.

South Korea in 2020 was a major trading power, but the Korean Empire in 1918 was still a backward country.

“It will change someday.”

Mr. Morgan said with a comforting tone.

“Japan was like that before the Meiji Restoration. The Korean Empire will get its chance too.”

Lee Jun-hyuk quietly nodded.

“I will create that opportunity,” he vowed silently.

“Well then, let’s get to the main topic.”

Mr. Morgan pointed to the documents.

“This plantation is located about 50 miles east of Havana, near the Matanzas state border. As I said, it’s not large—around 100 acres.”

Lee Jun-hyuk examined the papers carefully.

Land registry, production records, employee numbers. Various information was there.

“Last year’s production was 2,500 tons.”

“Yes. By Cuban standards, that’s very small. Large plantations produce over 10,000 tons.”

“But the location is good. Only 20 miles from the harbor…”

“Ah, you noticed that.”

Mr. Morgan sounded impressed.

“Yes, the location is the plantation’s greatest advantage. It means lower transportation costs.”

Lee Jun-hyuk kept reviewing the documents.

He noticed something odd.

“But production has been declining steadily for the past two years?”

“That’s the problem. The owner got sick and management fell apart. Many workers left.”

“How about capital investment?”

“Almost none. They had no money.”

Lee Jun-hyuk nodded.

A typical vicious cycle.

No investment means production drops, production drops so no profit, no profit so no investment.

“You said the asking price is $2,000?”

“That’s what the widow is asking. But there’s room for negotiation. She needs to sell quickly.”

Lee Jun-hyuk quickly calculated in his head.

Current sugar prices, expected yield, transportation costs, labor expenses.

“$1,500 seems like a fair price.”

“On what basis?”

“It’s difficult to turn a profit as things stand. At least $500 more in investment is needed to repair equipment, hire workers—only then can normal production resume.”

Mr. Morgan slowly nodded.

He wore a deeply thoughtful expression.

“An interesting analysis.”

He took another sip of tea.

The sound of the teacup being placed down echoed quietly in the study.

“But tell me, if someone wanted to buy this plantation, what would you advise?”

Lee Jun-hyuk hesitated for a moment.

Should he be honest or…?

“This is an opportunity.”

“Oh?”

“Although the war is over, Europe’s sugar production hasn’t recovered yet. The sugar beet farms in France and Belgium were destroyed during the war. It will take at least two to three more years.”

Lee Jun-hyuk opened his notebook.

These were notes he had organized earlier in the library.

“Before the war in 1914, Europe’s sugar beet production accounted for 48% of global output. Now it’s less than 15%. Cuba and Hawaii are filling that gap.”

“Go on.”

“But this is temporary. When Europe recovers—especially around 1921—there will be an oversupply.”

Mr. Morgan’s eyes sharpened.

“1921? Why so specific?”

Lee Jun-hyuk was startled.

Had he been too precise?

“Ah, that’s because my Professor of Economics predicted the postwar economic cycle. Usually, postwar booms last two to three years before adjustments come.”

“Hmm, a reasonable analysis.”

Fortunately, Mr. Morgan didn’t seem skeptical.

“So what’s the conclusion?”

“Buy now and maximize profits within two years. Then either switch to another business or sell before prices drop.”

Mr. Morgan leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.

He seemed deep in thought.

After a while, he spoke.

“You really are a student, aren’t you?”

“Hm?”

“Very practical. People your age tend to be more idealistic. Especially college students.”

Lee Jun-hyuk gave a bitter smile.

“A poor student has to be realistic.”

“Haha, yes. Poverty makes one realistic.”

Mr. Morgan pulled an envelope from his drawer.

“Here’s the promised $100.”

“I haven’t even written a proper report yet…”

“This analysis was enough. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Lee Jun-hyuk took the envelope.

It was heavy.

It really looked like it contained $100.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank me. Thanks to you, I can make a decision.”

“A decision?”

Mr. Morgan smiled.

“Actually, I was considering buying this plantation myself. I wanted to help a friend’s widow.”

“But I wasn’t sure. I wondered if your judgment was clouded.”

He stood and walked to the window, gazing outside.

The garden’s bare trees swayed in the wind.

“But now, hearing you call this an opportunity, I think it’s worth trying again.”

“Are you really going to buy it?”

“Probably. But you won’t do it alone. You lack experience, and traveling back and forth to Cuba…”

Mr. Morgan turned back to Lee Jun-hyuk.

“Are you interested?”

“Hm?”

“To join this venture. I provide the capital, and you provide youth and knowledge.”

Lee Jun-hyuk’s heart started pounding fast.

An unexpected proposal.

“But I have no experience.”

“You gain experience by doing. I didn’t know anything at first either. What matters is the willingness to learn.”

Mr. Morgan sat back down and spoke seriously.

“Of course it won’t be easy. You’ll have to go to Cuba, speak Spanish, manage local workers… Also, being East Asian might be a disadvantage.”

“But I saw something in you. Helping me yesterday, and your analysis today—there’s something trustworthy about you.”

Lee Jun-hyuk raised the teacup.

The tea had already cooled, but he took a sip to moisten his throat.

He needed time to gather his thoughts.

“This is… really an opportunity.”

Mr. Morgan waited silently.

Only the ticking of the clock filled the quiet study.

Outside, branches tapped against the glass in the wind.

“…What are the conditions?”

Lee Jun-hyuk asked carefully.

“A businessman’s question,” Mr. Morgan said with a satisfied smile.

“First, I’m thinking $3,000 for purchasing the plantation and initial investment. $1,500 for the land, $500 for equipment, and $1,000 for operating funds.”

“And then?”

“We split the profits 70-30. I get 70%, you get 30%. How does that sound?”

Thirty percent.

Not a bad deal.

No—considering he had nothing, it was actually a very generous offer.

“In return, you must take responsibility on site. You’ll go to Cuba, restore the plantation, secure sales routes. You’ll need to stay there at least a year.”

One year in Cuba.

What about my studies?

“I can see you’re worried.”

Mr. Morgan said.

“Of course. Studies, being in a foreign country… I understand.”

He pulled out a business card from his drawer.

“I’ll give you a week. Think it over and decide. There’s no pressure.”

Lee Jun-hyuk took the card.

Besides his home phone number, another number was written on it.

“That number is for my trade office run by my brother. It’s in Manhattan. If you decide, come there. We’ll discuss details.”

“…Yes, understood.”

Lee Jun-hyuk stood up.

“Thank you very much for today. And for the $100… It’s too generous.”

“No, that’s your own money. And…”

Mr. Morgan stood as well.

“I enjoyed our talk about the Korean Empire. I hope to do business with them someday.”

“That day will come. Definitely.”

“Yes, I hope so.”

They shook hands.

Mr. Morgan’s hand was firm but warm.

Stepping outside, the afternoon sunlight was dazzling.

Though it was late November, the weather was mild.

A clear blue sky stretched overhead.

The envelope in Lee Jun-hyuk’s pocket was heavy.

$100.

His total assets had grown from $212 to $312.

Almost a 50% increase in a day.

“…More important than that,”

The business proposal.

The Cuban sugar plantation.

To someone who knew the future, it was a clear opportunity.

In 1919 and 1920, sugar prices would reach historic highs.

If handled properly.

But there was also anxiety.

He couldn’t speak Spanish well, had no experience managing a plantation, and would be spending a year in an unfamiliar land called Cuba.

“Can I do this?”

As he walked toward the streetcar terminal, worries continued.

Then, the sign he had seen earlier caught his eye.

Kim’s Oriental Medicine.

This time, he had time.

“Shall I go in?”

Curiosity stirred.

He was glad to meet a fellow Korean and maybe learn news of the Korean Empire.

He pushed open the door.

Jingle-jangle.

The bell on the door rang.

The interior was larger than expected.

One wall was lined with drawers full of medicinal herbs.

Several beds stood along another wall.

The strong scent of herbal medicine filled the air.

“Welcome.”

Someone came from the back.

An elderly man, probably in his sixties.

He wore hanbok with a Western-style vest over it.

An unusual combination.

“Are you Korean?”

Lee Jun-hyuk asked in Korean.

Surprise flashed across the old man’s face.

“Oh my, a Korean! Nice to meet you, nice to meet you!”

The old man grabbed Lee Jun-hyuk’s hand firmly.

“It’s been so long since I heard my hometown tongue. What’s your name?”

“Lee Jun-hyuk, sir.”

“So you are a scholar. Judging by your clothes.”

“Yes, I attend Columbia University.”

“Oh, you came to study. Wonderful, wonderful. I hear many young people are studying abroad nowadays.”

The old man led Lee Jun-hyuk further inside.

“Let me make you some tea. I can’t let a fellow countryman leave without hospitality.”

They entered a small room.

It was decorated like a traditional Korean room.

The floor was covered with straw mats, a low table stood in the center.

A Korean landscape painting hung on the wall—likely of Kumsusan.

“Please sit.”

As Lee Jun-hyuk took a seat, the old man began preparing tea.

“This is ginseng tea. I brewed it myself.”

The strong ginseng scent pierced the air.

“Where are you from?”

“Pyongyang.”

“Pyongyang! I’m from Kaesong. A nearby hometown.”

The old man sat down and asked,

“How is your hometown these days? It’s been over 15 years since I left, so I don’t know much.”

Lee Jun-hyuk hesitated.

He didn’t know exactly how the Korean Empire was faring in this world.

Mr. Morgan said the country was preserved, but…

“The country was preserved but still poor.”

“Well, at least it was preserved. The Japanese were trying so hard…”

The old man sighed.

“When I left, it was serious. The Usa Year almost caused disaster. Luckily, Russia blocked Japan.”

The Usa Year, 1905.

In this world, the outcome of the Russo-Japanese War was different.

Then the future I know… could it really be?

Suddenly, Lee Jun-hyuk asked,

“Ah, by the way, do you know about the Titanic Incident? In 1912…”

“Oh my, how could I not know about that terrible accident? Over 500 people died. It was front-page news.”

“The Titanic happened the same way here.”

“And last year, there was a revolution in Russia…”

“Yes, yes. The Tsar was ousted and the Bolsheviks took power, right? The world’s fate is uncertain…”

The Russian Revolution was the same.

Lee Jun-hyuk felt relieved.

The major historical events hadn’t changed.

Only the parts related to Korea were different.

“Then the future I know… should mostly be correct.”

The Great Depression and World War II would probably occur as expected.

“Or perhaps someone else with memories of the future changed history? Like me? That’s why only Korea preserved its independence?”

“Young man, why do you look so troubled? You look pale.”

The old man asked with concern.

“Ah, no, just thinking…”

“You must be tired from studying.”

The old man stood.

“Wait here a moment.”

He went to the back and returned with something.

A small herbal medicine packet.

“Take this with you. It’ll help when you’re tired from studying.”

“No, you shouldn’t…”

“It’s fine. We should help each other, especially fellow countrymen. And…”

The old man pulled a business card from his pocket.

“If you have troubles, come find me. We Koreans should help one another.”

Lee Jun-hyuk was moved.

He hadn’t expected such warmth from compatriots in a foreign land.

“Thank you very much, sir.”

“No need to thank me. Visit often, and let’s talk about our homeland.”

Leaving the herbal pharmacy, the sun was setting.

The western sky was stained red.

In his pocket were the $100 envelope and the old man’s herbal medicine packet.

And in his mind remained a question:

“If this is a parallel world, why are only the parts about Korea different?”

But one thing was certain: all the other major events—the Titanic, the Russian Revolution, World War I—had still occurred.

Then the events to come as well.

“October 24, 1929.”

Black Thursday would come as expected.

As he rode the streetcar back to Manhattan, he made a decision.

“I will do this. If I miss this chance, I’ll regret it for life.”

The Cuban sugar plantation.

He was probably the only one in this parallel world who knew that sugar prices would skyrocket a year from now.

If he didn’t use that knowledge, he would regret it forever.

“And someday…”

He would return to the Korean Empire.

He would make his homeland—poor but sovereign—prosperous.

With capital and future knowledge.

Through the streetcar window, Manhattan’s skyscrapers began to appear.

New York, 1918.

No, the 1918 New York of this parallel world.

Here, I, Lee Jun-hyuk, will write a new history.