Chapter 25: At the Threshold of Death

2 p.m.

Clatter.

The carriage jolted violently as one wheel hit a stone.

Lee Jun-hyuk instinctively gripped the handle tightly.

In 1919, Cuba barely knew the concept of paved roads.

The rattling of the carriage felt like a harbinger of what was about to unfold.

“We must be careful.”

Mentor Judge, sitting across from him, spoke in a low voice.

His expression was far more cautious than usual. It wasn’t the icy face from the courtroom, but that of a seasoned gambler.

As he gazed at the scenery speeding past the window, he continued,

“It’s suspicious that Escobar suddenly changed his attitude. He’s lived his whole life as a predator.
A wolf can’t suddenly become a lamb.”

“I think so too.”

Lee Jun-hyuk nodded.

His mind was a tangled web.

The forged letter sent by Escobar. The pressure on the plantation.

When he thought about it all, the Judge was right.

But at the same time, Leonardo’s desperate voice echoed in his ears.

‘He’s not the Escobar he used to be.’

Heart attack.

How does a man change after standing at the Threshold of Death?

He thought of countless cases from the 21st century, but there was no single answer.

“But we still have to go.”

Lee Jun-hyuk spoke with renewed determination.

“We need to know what he wants to prepare for it.”

“Even so, you must prepare for the worst.”

The Judge tapped something inside his coat.

The chill of a stack of documents seemed to press against his chest through the fabric.

It appeared he had prepared something without Lee Jun-hyuk’s knowledge.

This veteran lawyer was never one to act on mere intuition.

“If he proposes something legally questionable, refuse immediately. I’ll give you a signal.”

How long had they ridden?

The carriage slowed and entered the main gate of the hospital.

A three-story white building shone blindingly in the fierce afternoon sunlight.

At the entrance stood two Hospital Guards in black uniforms. The pistols at their waists were especially noticeable.

“We’ve come to see Mr. Escobar.”

Leonardo was the first to step out of the carriage.

His leather shoes tapped sharply on the gravel, making a crisp sound.

The Hospital Guards recognized Leonardo and nodded mechanically. Their eyes held no emotion.

“Third floor. Follow me.”

Their steps along the corridor were heavy.

Lee Jun-hyuk was tense.

His palms began to sweat.

A sharp whiff of disinfectant pricked his nose. Faintly mingled with it, there was the unique scent of old and sick people.

A painting of the Virgin Mary cradling Baby Jesus hung on the wall.

It seemed the hospital was run by a Catholic Foundation.

They passed other patient rooms.

Suppressed groans leaked from behind the doors.

Someone could be heard quietly praying in Spanish.

“Hospitals are the same everywhere,” Lee Jun-hyuk thought.

Whether it was a state-of-the-art hospital in the 21st century, or this old Cuban one from a hundred years ago.

A place where life and death cross.

Where hope and despair coexist.

They arrived in front of a patient room.

On the door was a gold plate that read ‘Special Room.’

A choice befitting Escobar. Even at the threshold of death, his need to show off remained.

“Please, go in.”

Leonardo grasped the door handle. Lee Jun-hyuk didn’t miss the faint trembling of his hand.

Creeeak—the door opened without a sound.

It was a spacious private room.

About the size of the hotel suite he’d stayed at in New York.

By the window, lying on the bed, was Roberto Escobar.

“You’ve come.”

Escobar’s voice was hoarse and weak.

But the look in his eyes was just as it had always been. No, there was something more—a burning determination unique to those who had made a final resolution.

Like the last flicker of a candle.

“Please, have a seat.”

Luxurious velvet chairs for guests were arranged by the bed.

Lee Jun-hyuk and Mentor Judge sat down. The chairs creaked ever so slightly.

Leonardo stood like a shadow behind them.

Up close, Escobar’s appearance was shocking.

In just a few days, he looked ten years older.

The majesty of the giant who once ruled Cuba was gone without a trace.

Only the flickering flame of life remained, buried deep in his deeply lined face.

“First, I have an apology to make,”

Escobar began slowly.

Each word was chosen carefully, as if he were moving heavy stones.

“That forged letter. My men did it, but ultimately, I’m responsible.”

It was a frank admission.

So unexpected, it felt almost unreal.

Lee Jun-hyuk and the Judge exchanged surprised glances.

“Why did you do it?”

Lee Jun-hyuk asked.

His heart was pounding.

“I was afraid.”

Escobar let out a faint, bitter laugh.

A self-mocking, self-deprecating laugh.

“After thirty years building my kingdom with blood, I feared it would collapse because of a youngster like you. Young, talented, and possessing a future I never had. I was afraid of you.”

“So that’s why…”

“It was foolish of me.”

He turned his head toward the window.

In the blue sky, a tuft of cloud floated slowly on the Caribbean Sea breeze.

Come on, focus.

“After nearly dying, I realized what I’d spent my whole life building. In the end, there was nothing I could take with me to the grave.”

Silence fell.

The chirping of birds outside split the heavy air of the hospital room.

It was a peaceful afternoon.

But inside the minds of the three men, things were more complicated than ever.

“So, the reason I called you two here today…”

Escobar gestured to Leonardo.

“Bring the documents.”

Leonardo took a folder from his black leather bag.

A hefty stack of papers.

He placed it carefully on the table by the bed. The rustling of the pages sounded especially loud.

“What is this?”

Mentor Judge asked first.

Suspicion still filled his eyes.

“My share.”

Escobar struggled to raise himself.

Leonardo quickly came to support his back with a soft pillow.

“Thirty-five percent of the Cuban Sugar Plantation. Everything in my name, as well as those held under borrowed names.”

Lee Jun-hyuk swallowed dryly, despite himself.

Thirty-five percent.

He knew better than anyone what that meant.

Combined with the plantations he already owned, it would amount to nearly half of Cuba’s sugar production.

That meant complete domination of the Cuban sugar market.

If I held this during the 1920 Sugar Crash…

No, wait. This could be a trap.

“I’ll sell it to you.”

Escobar stared straight at Lee Jun-hyuk.

There was an odd serenity in his gaze.

The eyes of someone who had let everything go.

“At a fair price. I have no intention of getting more than the going rate.”

“Why me?”

Lee Jun-hyuk asked, looking incredulous.

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“There are plenty of others…”

“Which of my men could handle this like you?”

Escobar shook his head weakly.

“Delgado? He’s all greed and no brains. Sanchez? He’s already on your side. The rest? They’re nothing but shadows of me, leftovers.”

Leonardo’s shoulders twitched behind them.

But he showed no expression.

“They only know my ways.”

Escobar continued.

“Exploit, monopolize, threaten. That’s all. That’s what I taught them for thirty years.”

A voice admitting his own past, his own failures.

“But you’re different.”

He pointed a thin finger at Lee Jun-hyuk.

“You treat workers as people, and try to grow together. At first, I scoffed at you. Thought you were just some idealist with his nose in a book. I thought you’d go bankrupt soon enough.”

“But I was wrong. My way was wrong. Maybe… your way is the right direction.”

Mentor Judge asked, still doubtful,

“Are you serious? Why the sudden change…”

“Judge.”

Escobar looked at Mentor Judge.

He had the eyes of a long-time rival.

“How long have we fought? Twenty years? No, thirty? You in the courtroom, me behind the scenes. Aren’t you sick of it?”

“I am,” the Judge acknowledged briefly.

“Now, I want to let go of this fight.”

Escobar took a deep breath.

Even that simple motion seemed painful.

“My heart stopped and started again. The doctor said, for three minutes—”

He trailed off.

It seemed as though he were recalling something distant.

“There was nothing. No light, no sound. Just endless, cold darkness. When I woke, I thought: what have I lived for?”

“Money? I have more than enough. Power? Lying here in this bed, what use is it? Honor? Everyone in Cuba hates me.”

A lonely confession.

The final monologue of a dictator who defined an era.

His voice was tinged with regret and remorse.

“So I made up my mind. I want to do at least one thing right before I die.”

“And that’s selling your share to me?”

Lee Jun-hyuk asked again.

“Yes. You, I think… could do something different for this land and its people. The things I couldn’t do.”

Escobar nodded toward the documents.

“They’re calculated at market price. Leonardo spent several nights sorting it all out. I promise it’s a fair price. Judge, take a look.”

The Judge picked up the papers.

He adjusted his glasses, quickly scanned the documents with a professional’s eye, and nodded.

“Legally, there’s no issue. In fact, the price is slightly below the market rate.”

“There are conditions,” Escobar added.

“First, don’t dismiss my people carelessly. They worked for me all their lives, they need to make a living.”

“Of course. If they’re capable, I’ll continue to employ them,” Lee Jun-hyuk nodded.

“Second, help Leonardo out. He wants to go independent as a broker. He’s more than qualified.”

“I’ve already promised.”

“Good. Lastly…”

Escobar hesitated for a moment.

His eyes trembled.

“Don’t slander my name too much. I was a villain, but… in my own way, I did my best for this country.”

Lee Jun-hyuk fell into thought for a moment.

Escobar’s offer.

It was almost too sweet.

But that made it all the more suspicious.

Is this truly a deathbed repentance, or a final, elaborate trap?

“I have one question.”

Lee Jun-hyuk broke the silence.

“There are plenty of American investors and other Cuban businessmen. Why me, a foreigner? Is there a particular reason?”

Escobar laughed softly.

It was a powerless laugh, but there was no falsehood in it.

“American capital? They’re worse than us. They’ll suck the last drop of Cuba’s blood and leave.”

He coughed dryly. Cough, cough.

Leonardo quickly poured him a glass of water.

“And Cuban businessmen? I know them all. None have the guts or brains I have.”

After a sip of water, he continued.

“But you’re different. Even as a foreigner, you said you love this land. For some reason, those words struck me to the core.”

“Is that all?”

“No.”

Escobar pointed to the nightstand by the bed.

Leonardo opened it, pulled out a newspaper, and handed it over. It was this morning’s edition.

The front page featured Lee Jun-hyuk’s press conference in bold.

“I saw this,” Escobar said, hands trembling as he held the paper.

“Especially this part. ‘Do we have to wage war even in business?’ you said.”

“!”

“You’re right. We’ve been fighting too long. Me, you, this country too.”

He set the newspaper down and continued.

“Even though the war is over, we’re still fighting invisible wars. White and colored, rich and poor, landlord and worker…”

Mentor Judge’s eyes widened.

He’d never dreamed he’d hear such words from Escobar.

“So I decided.”

Escobar looked at Lee Jun-hyuk.

“To pass the baton to you. No—to entrust Cuba’s future to you.”

Lee Jun-hyuk was startled inside.

“To think it would end this easily…”

Even knowing the future, the path to it was always unpredictable.

He’d expected the struggle with Escobar to last at least another year.

“I must be lucky.”

No, as Escobar said, perhaps he’d created this luck himself.

“My way has failed,” Escobar said quietly.

“I ruled as Sugar King for thirty years, but Cuba is still poor, and the workers are still bent and hungry.”

He looked out the window.

In the distance, sugarcane fields waved in the breeze.

“Try your way now. Time will tell who was right.”

Lee Jun-hyuk looked at Mentor Judge.

The Judge gave the faintest nod.

A signal that it was okay to believe, to accept.

“Understood,” Lee Jun-hyuk finally declared.

“I accept your offer. I’ll pay a fair price and honor all your conditions.”

“Thank you,”

Escobar smiled with relief.

As if he’d finally laid down a heavy burden he’d carried all his life.

“One more thing,”

He looked at Leonardo.

“Burn all the documents in my study safe.”

“What?”

Leonardo was shocked.

“But that’s… the records you’ve gathered for thirty years…”

“They’re just a dirty past. Lists of bribes, blackmail documents, secret ledgers. I don’t need them anymore.”

Escobar said firmly.

“If I’m to start anew, I must cleanly settle the past first.”

“Will you really burn them all?”

Mentor Judge asked. He knew the value of those documents well.

It was Pandora’s Box that could shake Cuba’s political and business world.

“Yes. But…”

Escobar looked at Lee Jun-hyuk.

“You promise me. Never use the contents of those documents to threaten or unjustly profit from anyone.”

“I promise,”

Lee Jun-hyuk replied at once.

“I don’t use such methods.”

“I believe you,”

Escobar closed his eyes.

He seemed suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue.

“It’s all over now. Thirty years—Sugar King Roberto Escobar… retires today.”

“Get some rest.”

Lee Jun-hyuk rose from his seat.

“When your health recovers, come visit the plantation sometimes. I’ll serve you a cup of rum I brewed myself.”

“Will that be possible…?”

Escobar smiled faintly.

“You’re a lucky man. No, perhaps I should say you make your own luck.”

Those were his last words.

“Cuba… I leave it to you.”

Lee Jun-hyuk and the Judge left the hospital room.

They walked down the corridor in silence.

What had just happened still didn’t feel real.

Their greatest foe had stepped down on his own and handed them an unimaginable opportunity.

“Truly… unexpected,” the Judge spoke first.

“I feel the same,” Lee Jun-hyuk replied, glancing back.

He saw the tightly closed hospital room door.

“But I think he was sincere. In the face of death, anyone becomes honest.”

They left the hospital and got into the carriage.

Carlos was waiting outside, looking worried.

“How did it go, Mr. Lee?”

“Something unbelievable happened.”

Mentor Judge still sounded excited.

“Escobar is retiring. And he’s passing all his shares to your friend.”

“What? What does that…”

Carlos’s eyes widened in shock.

“I’ll explain later,” Lee Jun-hyuk said.

His mind was swirling.

He needed to adjust and rewrite dozens of plans on the fly to keep up with this sudden change.

“Thirty-five percent share…”

Combined with the existing plantations, they would control nearly half the Cuban sugar market.

He knew exactly what that meant.

The profits he would gain during the 1920 Sugar Crash would be beyond imagination.

The carriage rattled as it left the city.

“What about Mr. Leonardo?” Carlos asked.

“He’s going independent,” Lee Jun-hyuk replied.

“He’ll start his own brokerage. We agreed to support him with fifty thousand dollars.”

“A wise choice,” the Judge nodded.

“Leonardo is capable. He learned everything under Escobar for ten years. Far better to make him an ally than an enemy.”

By the time they reached the plantation, the sun was dipping low in the sky.

Jose, waiting anxiously in front of the office, ran out when he saw the carriage.

“How did it go?”

“Good news,” Lee Jun-hyuk said as he got out. His voice brimmed with confidence.

“Gather everyone. I have an important announcement.”

Thirty minutes later, all the key people gathered in the office.

Jose, Sanchez, Miguel, Pablo, Ramon.

Even Chairman Wang and Zhen Hao had hurried over after hearing the news.

Everyone’s faces were a mixture of tension and anticipation.

“I have something to announce to all of you,”

Lee Jun-hyuk began.

“Roberto Escobar has declared his retirement. And we have agreed to acquire all his shares.”

“!”

For a moment, all sound in the office stopped.

A wave of astonishment swept through the room.

“Is it true?”

Sanchez asked in disbelief.

“Escobar… is just stepping down?”

“His health is failing, and for several reasons, he changed his mind,” Lee Jun-hyuk explained succinctly.

“The important thing is, we now hold the initiative in the Cuban sugar market.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Lee!”

Jose was the first to shout for joy.

“A new era is truly beginning now.”

“But don’t let your guard down.”

Mentor Judge calmed the atmosphere with a warning.

“Escobar may have stepped down, but the snakes in his nest won’t stay quiet. Especially men like Delgado.”

“That’s right,” Lee Jun-hyuk agreed.

“That’s why we have to stabilize things quickly. Tomorrow morning, I’ll meet with Leonardo to finalize the contract and immediately begin the takeover.”

Chairman Wang spoke up in a deep voice.

“The Chinese Merchants’ Association will fully support you. Funds, manpower—whatever you need, just say the word.”

“Thank you, Chairman.”

***

After the meeting, Lee Jun-hyuk remained alone in the office.

The red sunset colored the view outside the window. The vast sugarcane fields gleamed golden.

“Now, the real beginning.”

It was only a few months until the fateful 1920 Sugar Crash.

There was a mountain of things to handle before then.

He picked up the telephone and sent a telegram to the American Sugar Trading Company in New York.

Once the Wall Street partners heard this news, they’d turn the place upside down.

In just a few months, he’d swallowed the entire empire of their old rival, Escobar.

“Mr. Lee?”

With a knock, Carlos entered, his face tense.

“Delgado has started to move.”

“As expected,” Lee Jun-hyuk turned slowly.

“How is he moving?”

“He’s rallying Escobar’s old followers. Looks like he’s trying to physically block the share transfer.”

“Legally, there’s no problem, right?”

“As long as Mentor Judge is with us, we have nothing to worry about. But…”

Carlos sounded uneasy.

“They’re men who trust their fists over the law. There may be physical interference.”

“Strengthen the security.”

Lee Jun-hyuk made his decision at once.

“Double the guards at every plantation, and have Miguel select trustworthy men from the workers to form patrol squads.”

“And get in touch with Leonardo, keep tracking developments inside Escobar’s Organization.”

Night was falling.

Starting tomorrow, even busier days awaited.

But Lee Jun-hyuk was not afraid.

The fateful year 1920 was approaching.