The next morning.
Today was the day everything ended, and the day everything began.
Lee Jun-hyuk woke up even earlier than usual and got ready.
He took out and put on the finest suit he had, which he’d kept at the very back of his wardrobe.
He strapped his wristwatch on and laced up his shoes tightly. The image of himself in the mirror felt unfamiliar.
“Mr. Lee, are you ready?”
Carlos entered, carrying a briefcase.
His expression was a mix of nervousness and anticipation that he couldn’t hide. As if it were his own business.
“Yes. What about George and William?”
“They just contacted us—they’ll be leaving the hotel shortly.”
“Good. And Judge Mendoza?”
“He arrived first and is waiting in the lounge.”
When Lee Jun-hyuk went out to the lounge, Judge Mendoza was sitting there, dressed in his heavy judge’s robe.
It was completely different from his usual gentleman’s suit, radiating the weight of law and authority.
Today, he wasn’t here as a private adviser, but as the Grand Judge of the Supreme Court of Cuba—an unspoken declaration.
“Are you ready, Mr. Lee?”
The judge looked at Lee Jun-hyuk and asked.
“Yes. Thanks to you, Your Honor.”
“I didn’t do anything. This is what you achieved.”
A faint sense of emotion colored the judge’s voice.
“Today marks the opening of a new chapter in Cuba’s sugar industry.”
At that moment, Leonardo and Miguel arrived as well.
“How’s Delgado?”
“He’s been very quiet. There haven’t been any unusual movements since yesterday.”
“He’s either given up, or just pretending to,” said Judge Mendoza.
“Either way, in front of the names Rockefeller and Vanderbilt, he won’t be able to do much for a while.”
Nine o’clock, sharp.
The carriage carrying George and William arrived.
Both men were impeccably dressed; especially William, who even carried a cane adorned with an ivory head. Ostentatious, yet an undeniable display of confidence.
“Today will surely go down as a historic day!”
George spoke in a booming voice.
“Five point two million dollars… It’s among the largest deals we’ve ever made.”
“And it’s worth every penny,” William replied confidently.
“When you think about how much this money will multiply in just a few months, we’re getting a bargain.”
The group split up into three carriages and headed to the bank at the heart of Havana.
Today was Saturday.
There were more people on the streets than usual.
The city overflowed with the energy of people out shopping for the weekend market.
“The National City Bank of New York”
The Havana branch building came into view.
With its grand Greek-style marble columns, the building made you feel as if you’d stepped not into Cuba, but into the very heart of New York’s Wall Street.
A monument flaunting the power of American capital.
“I contacted them in advance, so they should be waiting for us,” said George.
Just as the carriage stopped, the bank’s doors opened and the branch manager rushed out himself.
“Mr. Howard, Mr. Vanderbilt. Thank you for coming all this way.”
The American branch manager, his hair slicked back with oil, bowed so deeply it looked like his back might break.
In his eyes was not respect, but something closer to awe—almost fear.
“Please, this way. We’ve prepared a special conference room for you.”
Second floor of the bank, in the most secluded and spacious conference room.
On the thick mahogany table, all the documents were already neatly arranged by type.
Even the air in the room felt heavy.
“As requested, the full amount of five point two million dollars has been prepared.”
The branch manager reported.
“Three million dollars in a bank draft guaranteed by the New York headquarters, and the remaining two point two million in cash.”
“In cash as well?”
Lee Jun-hyuk asked in surprise, and William, lighting his cigar, explained lazily.
“Escobar’s side wanted a portion in cash. I suppose he plans to divide it up among his children as inheritance. Probably wants to avoid tax issues.”
Leonardo nodded quietly.
At a signal from the branch manager, two armed guards brought in several heavy-looking leather bags.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The bags landed on the table with a sound that echoed through the conference room.
“Would you like to check them?”
The branch manager opened one of the bags.
Inside, crisp hundred-dollar bills were stacked, as if freshly printed, not a speck of dust on them.
The sharp scent of money—paper and ink mixed together—filled the room.
Two point two million dollars.
In his previous life, Lee Jun-hyuk could never have hoped to touch that much money, no matter how long he worked.
But now, it was just part of a deal.
“Then, let’s begin.”
At Judge Mendoza’s words, the lengthy contract review began.
Page by page.
Line by line.
The judge pulled out a magnifying glass and checked every single term of the contract down to the last word. The lawyer from the bank was sweating in earnest.
Did two hours pass?
At last, the judge put down his magnifying glass.
“It’s perfect. There are no legal flaws whatsoever.”
With that single phrase, the heavy tension in the conference room finally lifted.
“Now, all that remains is to sign.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Lee Jun-hyuk.
With the pick-up of a pen, the future of Cuba’s sugar industry rested in his hands.
Lee Jun-hyuk slowly picked up the pen.
The cool weight of the heavy fountain pen pressed into his palm.
As he opened the lid, the golden nib glinted beneath the lights.
“At last… I’ve made it this far.”
Just a year ago, he was an ordinary international student, memorizing information about the future in the Columbia University Library.
Now, he was signing a contract worth millions of dollars as a titan of business.
Life.
Destiny.
The nib pressed into the thick contract paper.
The sound it made rang out louder than expected.
His heart began to pound furiously.
Or perhaps it was just the sound of his own heart he was hearing.
“Lee Jun-hyuk.”
Letter by letter.
He wrote his own name.
This wasn’t just a signature.
It was the end of the former Lee Jun-hyuk, and the beginning of declaring his existence in a new era.
Finally, he finished the last stroke.
Tap.
With the sound of setting down the pen, he exhaled a breath he’d been holding. His palm was damp with sweat.
“Now, it’s our turn.”
George and William signed in turn.
As directors of the American Sugar Trading Company, it was the procedure to officially approve the contract.
When all the signatures were finished, the branch manager applauded.
“Congratulations! The contract has been successfully concluded!”
“Congratulations, Lee.”
George beamed as he shook hands.
His grip was warm and strong.
“Now you’re truly Cuba’s new Sugar King.”
“You flatter me. I’m only at the starting line.”
“So humble, too.”
William stubbed out his cigar and said,
“A businessman who pulls off a deal of this scale is one of the few, even in New York. Now you really are a big player.”
All the procedures were complete.
All that remained was to deliver the results of this contract to the loser.
“I’ve already contacted the hospital, so let’s head over.”
Judge Mendoza stood up.
Leaving the bank, the group boarded their carriages again.
The bags holding the two point two million dollars in cash were loaded onto a separate carriage. Miguel and his bodyguards surrounded it tightly.
Not a single gap in their formation.
On the way to the hospital.
Lee Jun-hyuk stared out the window, lost in thought.
“The contract is over. Now begins the real field of management.”
The impending Sugar Crash.
From six cents to twenty-three cents per pound—a nearly fourfold surge awaited.
He had to ride that wave and amass enormous wealth.
But at the same time, he had to be ready to get out cleanly when the wave crested.
There’s no such thing as a perpetual rise.
They arrived at the hospital.
Leonardo got out first to check the situation and returned.
“Mr. Escobar is conscious. But… they say his condition has gotten much worse.”
“Can we see him?”
“Yes. Actually… he’s been waiting for you.”
The group headed to the hospital room.
The corridor was crowded with unfamiliar faces.
Escobar’s wife and children, and even relatives.
They looked at Lee Jun-hyuk’s party with complicated expressions.
Strangers who had just bought up their husband and father’s empire in its entirety.
A mixture of wariness and resentment, but at the same time, a strange hopefulness, as if seeing saviors bearing massive cash.
The hospital room door opened.
Escobar, lying in bed, looked even more emaciated than just the day before.
He looked less like a living person and more like a soon-to-be mummy.
But his eyes still burned fiercely, like a final spark.
“You’re here.”
Escobar managed to speak.
“It’s… all over?”
“Yes.”
Lee Jun-hyuk approached the bed and answered.
“We just finished all the formalities at the bank. The money we promised is all ready as well.”
“I see. That’s good…”
Escobar smiled faintly.
For a brief moment, Lee Jun-hyuk saw genuine peace settle on the man’s face.
The moment when a ruler of an era put the period on the last page of history with his own hand.
As Lee Jun-hyuk left the hospital room, the afternoon sunlight filling the corridor stung his eyes.
The density of the air inside and out was completely different.
Having escaped a hospital room saturated with the scent of death, the noise and energy of the outside world suddenly felt vivid.
Life and death, separated by a mere sheet of paper.
No one spoke.
Each walked the corridor, lost in their own thoughts.
“It’s… really over now.”
Leonardo said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes reddened.
For ten years, he had devoted everything to his master.
It must have been a tangled web of love and hate.
“Leonardo.”
Lee Jun-hyuk called him.
“My promise still stands. I’ll support your independence. Fifty thousand dollars is ready whenever you need it, so just let me know.”
“…Thank you, Mr. Lee.”
Leonardo bowed his head.
“But… please give me a little more time. At least… until I can see him pass away peacefully with my own eyes.”
“I understand.”
When they left the hospital, George spoke in an energetic voice, as if he’d been waiting. As if there was no time for sentimentality.
“Well, it’s time to get down to business! Have you made a plan for operating the plantations, Lee Jun-hyuk?”
“Yes. First, I plan to tour all the plantations myself to assess their current state.”
Lee Jun-hyuk explained the plan he’d prepared.
“Then I’ll unify the management systems of each plantation and find ways to increase production efficiency. From fertilizer usage to the movement of the workers—everything.”
“And the treatment of the workers?”
William asked.
This was a crucial issue for him as well.
If the workers went on strike, even a surge in sugar prices would be meaningless.
“I’ll follow the existing policy of Santa Rosa Plantation. Fair wages and reasonable welfare benefits. In the long run, it will be far more profitable.”
“That’s just like you.”
George nodded in satisfaction.
“Even in New York, your ‘human-centered management’ style made waves. The foxes on Wall Street sneered, but still.”
On the way back to the plantation by carriage.
Carlos spoke up cautiously.
“Um… Mr. Lee. There’s something I’d like to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“Delgado… he sent word he wants to meet.”
“Delgado?”
A faint smile appeared on Lee Jun-hyuk’s lips. It was exactly what he’d expected.
“He said he seriously considered your offer from yesterday.”
“When does he want to meet?”
“He suggested tomorrow afternoon.”
“Fine. Tell him to meet at the plantation.”
Judge Mendoza stroked his cane and offered some advice.
“Be careful. Delgado is like a viper. He might turn your favor into resentment.”
“I know, Your Honor. But it’s better to tame a viper for use, than to keep him as an enemy who might bite your throat.”
When they arrived at the plantation, Jose and the plantation staff rushed out to greet them.
Their faces brimmed with sincere joy and awe.
“Congratulations, Mr. Lee! Now you’re truly the biggest plantation owner in Cuba!”
“It’s all thanks to everyone here.”
Lee Jun-hyuk replied humbly.
“Now the real work begins. Let’s all work to make a better life together.”
That evening, the plantation hosted a grand celebration banquet.
George, William, Judge Mendoza, Leonardo, and even Chairman Wang Xiaoming gathered together.
A chef specially invited by the Chinese Merchants’ Association prepared rich Chinese cuisine, alongside traditional Cuban roast pork.
“To the new Sugar King of Cuba—Lee Jun-hyuk!”
“Cheers!!”
Everyone clinked their glasses.
The clear, ringing sound cut through the night air.
“By the way, will the price of sugar really go up that much?”
Chairman Wang asked cautiously.
He was a merchant.
He didn’t believe in vague talk.
“It’s certain, Mr. Wang.”
William replied confidently.
“European demand is about to explode, but the sugar factories of war-torn Europe haven’t yet recovered. The law of supply and demand. Nothing is more reliable than that.”
“Then… our Chinese Merchants’ Association should invest more in the sugar business…”
Chairman Wang’s eyes sparkled.
“A great idea.”
Lee Jun-hyuk agreed.
“There will be plenty of things we can work on together with the Chinese Merchants’ Association in the future. Especially in distributing sugar to Asia.”
As the night deepened, the conversation grew more lively.
Plans for the future, new business opportunities, stories about the vast fortunes they would build together.
But Lee Jun-hyuk knew.
This dazzling prosperity would not last forever.
March 1920. After reaching its peak, a crash would come—a sudden plunge, as if all the gains were mere bubbles.
“I have to be ready for that moment.”
Lee Jun-hyuk looked up at the night sky as he made up his mind.
The stars above Cuba glittered like countless bundles of cash.
The next afternoon.
Lee Jun-hyuk waited for Delgado in the lounge.
Miguel and the bodyguards were positioned out of sight, just in case, but it seemed unnecessary today.
“Delgado has come alone.”
Carlos reported.
“Not one of those dozens of henchmen he had yesterday is with him.”
“That’s a good sign.”
Lee Jun-hyuk went out to the lounge.
Delgado looked completely different from when he’d stormed in with a gang of thugs days ago.
The arrogance and menace were gone, replaced by the cautious expression of a businessman.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Delgado.”
“Thanks for inviting me, Mr. Lee.”
Delgado replied awkwardly.
The two men, who had once tried to kill each other, now sat face to face—an odd tension in the air.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
Jose brought out two strong Cuban coffees.
The rich aroma filled the lounge.
“I’ll be straightforward.”
Delgado spoke first.
He was never one for lengthy introductions.
“I accept your proposal. But I have conditions.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“First, I want you to employ my henchmen who came with me yesterday. They all have families to feed.”
“Of course. Anyone competent is welcome.”
“Second, I want to work independently. I can’t stand taking orders from above.”
Lee Jun-hyuk fell into thought for a moment.
He needed to preserve Delgado’s battered pride.
“Very well. Take the position of Head of Sales in the new division. I’ll give you independent authority over budgeting and personnel.”
Delgado’s eyes widened.
It was far better than he’d expected.
“Head of… sales…”
“You know the Cuban sugar market better than anyone. I need your experience and connections.”
“But… I was your enemy. I tried to threaten and get rid of you.”
Delgado admitted candidly.
“Yesterday’s enemy can become today’s ally.”
Lee Jun-hyuk extended his hand.
“Will you work with me?”
Delgado glanced between Lee Jun-hyuk’s hand and face.
After a moment’s hesitation, he gripped the hand firmly.
His palm was rough, but there was strength in it.
“…I misjudged you, Mr. Lee. You’re different from the rich men I’ve known.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Both men laughed awkwardly.
But the laughter was genuine.
Toward evening.
George and William finished their preparations to return to New York.
“Well done, Lee Jun-hyuk!”
George exclaimed with genuine admiration.
“You even managed to tame a viper like Delgado. No one in Cuba can stop you now.”
“You flatter me.”
“Enough with the humility.”
William laughed.
“You really are a big player now. Don’t be afraid to act like one.”
“Thank you for the advice.”
“Oh, and here.”
George lowered his voice and handed over a small note.
“Keep an eye on sugar prices. If you notice anything odd, send a telegram here immediately. It’s a code only we know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The carriage carrying the two men left the plantation.
Lee Jun-hyuk stood and saw them off until they disappeared from sight.
That night.
Lee Jun-hyuk sat alone in his study, opening up the ledgers.
Santa Rosa, Fernandez, Sanchez, and the dozens of other plantations acquired from Escobar.
The total area was beyond imagination.
Was it the size of Seoul?
No, perhaps even bigger.
“I need to recalculate the production…”
He picked up his pencil and began jotting numbers onto paper.
Current yield, projected growth, and expected price increases—all factored in…
“By March 1920… at least twenty million dollars.”
His heart began to race again.
Twenty million dollars. Unimaginable money in his previous life.
With this… With this, he could return to America and do anything he wanted.
Knock, knock.
A quiet knock sounded.
“Come in.”
It was Leonardo.
His face was dark.
Like a man who had experienced everything.
Lee Jun-hyuk quietly set down his pencil.
He sensed what was coming.
“The hospital just called.”
Leonardo’s voice was low and dry.
“Mr. Escobar…”
“Yes. He passed away about an hour ago.”
A brief silence fell.
So, an era ends like this.
“Did he go peacefully?”
“Yes. Surrounded by all his family… They say his final moments were very peaceful.”
“That’s a relief.”
Lee Jun-hyuk stood up.
“I should help prepare the funeral. No matter how much of an enemy he was, for his final journey…”
“Mr. Lee.”
Leonardo cut him off.
“Mr. Escobar left a final message for you.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Sometimes, fate is ironic…’”
Leonardo paused for breath.
“And he wished you good luck, Mr. Lee.”
Lee Jun-hyuk gazed out the window.
Above the Cuban night sky, even more stars were shining than yesterday.
Thus, a new era began.