Chapter 6: Preparation

December had arrived.

Winter in New York had begun in earnest, and Christmas decorations were starting to appear one by one along the streets.

Lee Jun-hyuk was busy every day.

He woke up at 6 a.m. and studied Spanish.

The tutor he found through the introduction of the elderly Kim Bong-seok was a middle-aged woman from Puerto Rico.

“Buenos días, Señor Lee.”

“Buenos días, Señora Gonzalez.”

His pronunciation was still awkward, but it was gradually improving.

“Shall we learn numbers today? Numbers are essential if you’re going to manage a plantation.”

“Uno, dos, tres.”

His tongue twisted.

The ‘rr’ sound was particularly challenging.

He had to roll his tongue, a sound that didn’t exist in Korean.

“No, not pero, but perro. Do you want to become a dog?”

Señora Gonzalez laughed.

She was a good teacher.

Patient and focused on practical expressions.

“I’ll teach you some expressions used on the plantation. Trabajadores—workers. Caña de azúcar—sugarcane…”

Lee Jun-hyuk diligently took notes.

After two hours of lessons, it was 10 a.m.

Then he headed to the library.

He read books on tropical agriculture, especially on sugarcane cultivation.

“Sugarcane requires a growth period of 18 to 24 months. And the timing of harvest is crucial.

You must not harvest when the sugar content is at its peak. Also, pest management is essential, especially in Cuba.”

There was a lot of new information.

His 2020 self had led a life completely unrelated to agriculture.

But he wasn’t completely lost.

“The basics of management are ultimately the same.”

Lunch was simple.

Usually bread and coffee.

Sometimes he added soup when he had the luxury.

In the afternoon, he prepared for practical matters.

He stopped by Thomas Morgan’s office to review documents and purchase necessary supplies.

“Tropical regions are hot and humid. You’ll need light cotton clothes.”

Following Thomas’s advice, he bought new clothes.

Five white cotton shirts, three khaki pants, and a Panama hat.

He also got new shoes.

Light ones suitable for the tropics.

“And this is a must-have.”

Thomas handed him a small bottle.

“Quinine. It’s a preventive medicine for malaria. You need to take it every day.”

Malaria.

That was another concern.

In 1918, there was no effective treatment, and prevention was the best option.

Without it, one could be gone in an instant.

What a precious opportunity he had caught!

“I’ll also introduce you to a doctor. There are some American doctors in Havana. You should get regular check-ups.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and…”

Thomas took something out of his drawer.

A revolver.

“This is…”

“Hopefully, you won’t need it, but just in case. Cuba is still an unstable place in terms of public safety.”

Lee Jun-hyuk hesitated.

He had never actually touched a gun before.

In Korea in 2020, it was unthinkable.

In his previous life, he was exempt from military service due to heart surgery, so he had no ties to the military.

“I need to learn how to use it.”

“I’ll take you to the shooting range tomorrow. Learning the basics will be enough.”

When evening came, he returned to the boarding house.

After dinner, he reviewed everything he had learned during the day.

Memorizing Spanish vocabulary, organizing agricultural knowledge, and confirming the next day’s schedule.

Before going to sleep, he wrote in his diary.

In the diary he’d kept, on a blank page at the back.

<December 3rd.

One month left until departure.

There’s so much to prepare.

But strangely, I’m not afraid.

I’m excited.

A new beginning.

This life will be different.>

***

Second week of December.

Lee Jun-hyuk came to a shooting range on the outskirts of Manhattan with Thomas.

It was a high-end shooting range frequented by the wealthy.

The atmosphere was different from the entrance.

Marble floors, chandeliers, and staff in uniforms.

“Mr. Morgan, welcome.”

A staff member recognized Thomas and greeted him.

“Today, I’ve come to teach my friend the basics.”

“Yes, please follow me inside.”

The interior of the shooting range was larger than expected.

There were several lanes, each with different distances.

Various firearms were displayed on the walls.

“Let’s start with the basics.”

Thomas held up the revolver.

“This is the Colt M1911. The standard-issue pistol of the US military. A reliable one.”

Lee Jun-hyuk carefully took the gun.

It was heavier than he thought.

“Rule number one: never point the gun at a person. Even if you don’t intend to shoot.”

“Yes.”

“Rule two: only place your finger on the trigger when you’re ready to fire.”

Thomas’s explanation was systematic.

How to disengage the safety, how to change the magazine, the correct stance.

“Hold it with both hands. Grip with your right hand, support with your left. Like this.”

Lee Jun-hyuk assumed the posture as instructed.

“Stand straight, feet shoulder-width apart. Slightly bend the knees…”

“Like this?”

“Good. Now, try aiming.”

A target appeared at 10 meters.

A paper target shaped like a person.

“Align the barrel and the sight in a straight line, centered on the target…”

Bang!

He fired the first shot.

The recoil was stronger than expected.

His wrist hurt.

“Where did it hit?”

“Off target.”

Thomas smiled.

“That’s how it is at first. Try again.”

The second and third shots!

Only after ten shots did he manage to hit the center of the target.

“Not bad. You have a knack for this.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Most people can’t hit the target on their first day.”

They practiced for an hour.

His wrist ached, and his ears rang, but he gradually got the hang of it.

Four or five out of ten shots hit near the center.

“That’s enough for real combat.”

Thomas said.

“Hopefully, you won’t have to use it anyway. It’s just like a vaccination.”

When they left the range, it was afternoon.

“Let’s have lunch together. There’s a good restaurant nearby.”

“Sure.”

The restaurant was upscale.

Waiters wore bow ties, and white tablecloths covered the tables.

“The steak here is exquisite.”

Lee Jun-hyuk was surprised by the menu.

Three dollars for a steak.

That was his weekly food budget.

“I’ll pay. You’ll be my colleague soon.”

“No, but…”

“Enough with the formalities. I’ll place the order.”

Thomas called the waiter and ordered.

Soon, the appetizer came out.

Oysters.

“You can eat oysters in Cuba too. Caribbean oysters have a unique taste.”

“I see.”

Lee Jun-hyuk ate an oyster with lemon juice.

The sea flavor spread throughout his mouth.

“But, Lee…”

Thomas took a sip of wine and said.

“Let me give you a personal advice…”

“Yes?”

“In Cuba, don’t trust anyone too much.”

It was a sudden warning.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll meet many people during the plantation acquisition process—lawyers, managers, local influential people… all will be friendly. Especially when they sense money.”

Thomas’s expression was serious.

“But most will try to use you. A young Asian who barely speaks Spanish and doesn’t know local affairs is the perfect target.”

Lee Jun-hyuk nodded.

He had expected this.

For an Asian to do business in Cuba in 1918 was itself a challenge.

“I’ll be cautious.”

“And one more thing…”

Thomas lowered his voice.

“Many American companies have entered Cuba. United Fruit, American Sugar… the big players. They don’t like competition.”

“But our plantation is small, isn’t it?”

“For now, yes. But what if you succeed? What if you expand? You’d be a potential threat to them.”

The steak arrived.

It was a meaty portion, but suddenly his appetite disappeared.

“I’m not trying to scare you.”

Thomas said.

“You just need to know the reality. It won’t be easy. But…”

He smiled.

“That’s what makes it worthwhile. If anyone could do it, it wouldn’t be interesting, right?”

Lee Jun-hyuk smiled back.

He was right.

If he wanted an easy path, he wouldn’t have chosen this in the first place.

After finishing the meal, they parted ways.

“I’ll prepare the final contract next week. Let’s meet then.”

“Yes, thank you.”

On the way back to the boarding house, Lee Jun-hyuk decided to stop by Kim Bong-seok’s herbal pharmacy.

He wanted to pay respects before leaving and seek some advice.

Upon opening the pharmacy door, the strong scent of medicinal herbs greeted him.

“Welcome, son.”

Old Kim greeted him warmly.

“Have some tea.”

He was led to the back room.

“You haven’t visited often lately. No need to apologize.”

“I know you’re busy. I heard from my father you’re going to Cuba?”

“Yes, leaving in January.”

Old Kim poured tea and asked.

“A sugarcane plantation, that’s a good business. The price of sugar is skyrocketing these days.”

As expected from a merchant, he knew the market well.

“But Cuba… I’ve never been there, but I hear it’s hot and humid. Take care of your health.”

“Yes, I will keep that in mind.”

“And…”

Old Kim thought for a moment, then stood up.

“Wait a moment.”

He went to the medicine cabinet and started pulling out various items.

Ginseng, Hwanggi, Danggui. Several herbs combined.

“Take this with you. I’ll pack them separately for when you get heatstroke, stomachaches, or fever. Take according to your symptoms.”

“Elder, this is too much…”

“You’ll face hardships away from home. This much is nothing. Also…”

Old Kim took out another packet.

“This is ointment for snake or insect bites. There are many poisonous creatures in tropical regions.”

Lee Jun-hyuk was touched.

The warmth of a fellow countryman met abroad was so heartening.

“I will succeed and come back.”

“You better. And when you succeed…”

Old Kim smiled.

“Supply our pharmacy with sugar at a cheaper price. Sugar goes into many medicines.”

“Haha, of course. You’ll have the top priority.”

When he left the pharmacy, the sun was setting.

In his hands were the packets of medicine wrapped by Old Kim.

Though nervous, his heart was warm.

Back at the boarding house, he organized his luggage.

The large trunk was already half full.

Clothes, books, medicines, and the revolver.

“I’m really going.”

It felt real.

To unfamiliar land, to unfamiliar business.

But he wasn’t afraid.

One who knows the future sees a clear path.

In 1919 and 1920, sugar prices would soar.

And he would not miss that opportunity.

He looked out the window.

The gas lamps on the streets of New York were one by one lighting up.

December 1918, New York.

Soon, he would leave this place.

But someday, he would return.

To gather seed money.

***

December 20th.

Two weeks left until departure.

Lee Jun-hyuk visited James Morgan’s house again.

To confirm the final contract and say farewell.

“Oh, Lee! Glad you came.”

Mr. Morgan opened the door himself.

He looked healthier than before.

“You look well today.”

“Yes, I’m better these days. Maybe thanks to you.”

They entered the study.

The contract lay on the desk.

It was the one Thomas had brought in advance.

“Have a seat. Let’s have some tea and review it slowly.”

This time, Mr. Morgan poured the tea himself.

“I heard from Thomas you’ve been practicing shooting and preparing diligently.”

“Yes, I’m doing my best.”

“Good. But…”

Mr. Morgan held up the contract.

“Before we look at this, there’s something I want to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Are you truly ready? Mentally ready.”

Lee Jun-hyuk thought for a moment.

“To be honest, I can’t say I’m 100% ready. But…”

“But?”

“I have confidence that I can do it. No, I have to.”

Mr. Morgan nodded.

“That’s a good answer. Anyone who says they’re 100% ready is either lying or foolish. What matters is confidence.”

He unfolded the contract.

“The terms are simple and clear.”

Investment: $3,000.

Profit sharing: 70:30.

Minimum operation period: one year.

“There’s an added clause here.”

Mr. Morgan pointed to a section.

“If the performance after one year is good, additional investment will be discussed. Looks like Thomas added this.”

“Yes, he mentioned it.”

“Good. If the business does well, expansion is natural. And…”

Mr. Morgan took an envelope from his drawer.

“This is my personal gift.”

Inside the envelope were several letters.

“Letters of introduction. These are my acquaintances in Havana—bank presidents, merchants, doctors. If you need help, visit them.”

“Thank you. Truly.”

“And this as well.”

It was a small notebook.

“I’ve written down what I learned over 40 years in trade. Negotiation tactics, dealing with locals, how to spot frauds, and so on. It will help you.”

Lee Jun-hyuk opened the notebook.

The pages were filled with dense handwriting detailing experiences.

These were priceless pieces of advice.

“How can I ever thank you…”

“Come back successful. That’s the best thanks.”

Mr. Morgan hesitated briefly before speaking.

“You said it, right? The Korean Empire will develop someday.”

“Yes.”

“When that day comes, I want to invest in your hometown too.”

Lee Jun-hyuk was surprised.

“Really?”

“Of course. Good business opportunities know no borders.”

Mr. Morgan looked out the window.

“You’ve realized something. There are things more important than money. Doing meaningful work. Helping a poor country develop—that’s meaningful, isn’t it?”

Lee Jun-hyuk was deeply moved.

This old man was not just a businessman.

“That day will definitely come. And when it does, I will come to see you.”

“Haha, I don’t know if I’ll still be alive then.”

“You must. You promised.”

They both laughed.

As he signed the contract, a strange feeling washed over him.