Chapter 61: An Unexpected Turn of Events

Lee Jun-hyuk was momentarily lost for words.

Bancroft had been arrested? How? Why? Just a moment ago, he’d still been trembling at the man’s vicious methods.

Holding the receiver in his hand, he stood dumbfounded in the middle of his empty office. It was as if time itself had stopped.

“Boss?”

Yu Ilhan called to him from below the stairs, his voice full of concern.

“Is something wrong?”

“Bancroft… has been arrested.”

“What?”

Yu Ilhan’s reply was tinged with a tone as if he’d just heard the most absurd thing in the world.

The two men stood there for a moment, looking at each other in silence.

What on earth had happened overnight? It was impossible to comprehend.

“They told me to check this morning’s paper for details. Said it would be on the front page.”

“The front page?”

Was it really that big of an incident?

Lee Jun-hyuk looked out the window.

Morning sunlight poured through the factory windows. It was the peaceful beginning of a new day.

But somewhere out of sight, a massive storm was brewing.

“For now… as soon as the newspaper is delivered, I’ll check it myself.”

Just a few seconds after the call ended, the office phone rang loudly once again.

Who could it be this time?

“Hello?”

“Mr. Lee! It’s Kim Young-soo!”

Kim Young-soo’s voice burst from the other end, trembling with excitement.

“Did you hear? William Bancroft, that despicable bastard, has finally been caught!”

“Yes, I just got a call from a reporter…”

“It’s amazing! Truly amazing! Heaven hasn’t turned a blind eye to us! That wicked man has finally—!”

Kim Young-soo’s voice was overflowing with pure joy and relief.

But Lee Jun-hyuk found it hard to share in the happiness.

Something didn’t feel right.

Everything was happening too suddenly.

“Do you know any details about what happened?”

“I don’t know much either, but I heard a witness to The Five-Year-Ago Arson Case in Chinatown has appeared. Someone who used to work for Bancroft, I think—he felt guilty and turned himself in.”

A witness from five years ago, appearing now of all times?

“Anyway, congratulations! Now you can finally focus on your canning business without worries!”

The call ended.

But the unease in Lee Jun-hyuk’s heart didn’t disappear.

If anything, it grew heavier.

It was as if something huge was moving in the darkness.

As he descended the stairs with heavy steps, every eye in the factory turned to him, full of anticipation.

Everyone must have sensed something tremendous had happened.

“William Bancroft… has been arrested.”

For a moment, the factory—usually noisy with machines—fell into an unbelievable silence.

And the very next moment, the silence erupted into thunderous cheers.

“Really?!”

“Is that true, boss?”

“What happened?”

Questions came flying from all directions.

Lee Jun-hyuk explained what he’d just heard.

Arson and extortion charges. A witness from The Five-Year-Ago Arson Case. And today’s newspaper front page.

“Amazing!”

Mary clapped her hands together and shouted.

“That arrogant bastard is finally getting what he deserves!”

The other employees couldn’t hide their excitement, cheering as well.

“We can finally relax!”

“No more worrying every morning about getting ruined by rats!”

Everyone was truly overjoyed.

The fear and anger from the previous night melted away like snow.

Yet, in a corner of Lee Jun-hyuk’s heart, there remained a cold unease, untouched by the festive mood.

“Who put Bancroft behind bars?”

And why, at this perfect timing—on the very morning after we were attacked?

Walter quietly approached.

Even his face, usually cheerful, was marked by careful seriousness.

“It’s good news, boss…”

He too seemed to sense this strange flow.

“But doesn’t it seem like it happened a bit too conveniently, as if someone was waiting for it?”

“I was just thinking the same, Walter.”

The factory break-in last night, and the arrest this morning.

The world wasn’t so kind as to chalk this up to mere coincidence.

“For now, let’s get to work.”

Walter said.

“The newspaper should arrive soon. The answer will be there.”

He was right.

There was no point in jumping to conclusions.

Work began anew.

Machines whirred, the conveyor belt moved.

It was a morning like any other.

But the atmosphere was completely different.

The employees were buzzing with excitement.

Even as they worked, talk of Bancroft’s arrest continued to spread.

“He’ll rot in prison for the rest of his life.”

“Wouldn’t it be perfect if he lived with the rats he loves so much? He’d fit right in!”

Laughter broke out across the factory.

Lee Jun-hyuk left the scene and returned to his office, intent on documenting the previous night’s events in detail.

This record might one day become a weapon.

He sat at his desk and picked up his pen.

“Around 11 PM, March 30th, 1920…”

He calmly wrote the events in order.

Yu Ilhan’s urgent phone call, the frantic rush in the middle of the night, the sense of foreboding in the warehouse, the discovery of rat fur, photographing the evidence, the disposal…

The more he wrote the bare facts, the more his hands trembled with anger.

Just then, a boy’s clear voice drifted up from outside the window.

“Newspaper! Morning newspaper!”

It was the delivery boy.

Lee Jun-hyuk sprang up from his seat.

He rushed down the stairs, skipping two at a time.

A boy had parked his bicycle in front of the factory, holding a bundle of newspapers.

“One Brooklyn Daily Eagle, sir.”

He handed over the coins and received the newspaper.

With the cold smell of ink, his eyes were immediately drawn to the large headline.

“Railway Tycoon Bancroft Arrested for Five-Year-Ago Arson and Extortion”

Beneath it was a photograph of Bancroft being led away in handcuffs by police.

His usual arrogance was nowhere to be seen, his face a mixture of shock and anger—a beast cornered.

He began to read the article.

“William Bancroft (45) was urgently arrested at his Manhattan residence at 11 PM last night. The charges include the five-year-ago Chinatown arson series and recent extortion of newly established food businesses run by Asian immigrants…”

At some point, the employees had gathered behind him.

“What does it say, boss?”

“Let us see!”

Lee Jun-hyuk read the article out loud for all to hear.

“Police stated that a decisive witness has come forward. A former subordinate, who witnessed Bancroft directly ordering the arson five years ago, has confessed out of conscience…”

A former subordinate? Who? And why, after five long years of silence, would he appear now?

“It was also confirmed that there were recent threats and extortion attempts against ‘La Choy Food.’ Company president Lee Jun-hyuk received several threats since the business started, and last night, unidentified assailants even broke into the factory…”

His own name was right there in the front-page article.

It wasn’t the New York Times, but it was still the front page of a paper circulated throughout Brooklyn.

“Our boss’s name is in the paper!”

Mary squealed like an excited girl.

The other employees buzzed as well.

“La Choy is going to get famous now, huh?”

“This must be what they call free publicity!”

But Lee Jun-hyuk’s sense of unease only grew. Everything was moving too fast.

It was as if someone had scripted this in advance.

He continued reading.

“Bancroft applied for a large bail, but the prosecutor requested it be denied due to fears of evidence destruction and threats against witnesses. The court accepted. The first trial is scheduled for early next month.”

Bail denied.

For a wealthy white tycoon’s bail application to be denied meant the prosecution had irrefutable evidence.

“It’s finally over!”

“Serves him right! He won’t be able to bother us anymore, right?”

Everyone sighed in relief.

Lee Jun-hyuk folded the newspaper.

But his mind was far from at ease.

He felt as if the most important piece of a vast puzzle was missing.

“Why did a witness from The Five-Year-Ago Arson Case come forward now, on the morning after we were attacked?”

“All right, everyone—back to work!”

Walter clapped his hands, breaking the mood.

“Let’s save the celebration for later. For now, let’s handle the backlogged orders first!”

The employees dispersed with laughter.

The hum of machinery filled the factory once more. The day’s lively routine resumed.

But Lee Jun-hyuk’s mind grew only more tangled.

He was heading back to the office when the phone rang yet again.

“Who is it this time?”

“La Choy Food.”

“Mr. Lee?”

It was a completely unexpected, unfamiliar voice.

Low and gravelly, thick with an Italian accent.

“Excuse me, but who is this?”

“Joe Petrucci. We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

Petrucci!

The Italian Mafia boss.

The very man rumored to have backed Bancroft when he came to threaten them a few days ago.

“Ah…”

“Congratulations. Quite the troublesome headache disappeared, didn’t it?”

His voice carried a blatant implication, as if to say, ‘This was all my doing.’

No way…

“Could it be…”

“Sometimes you get lucky, you know. Isn’t that right?”

Petrucci laughed, low and cold.

The chill of it crawled down Lee Jun-hyuk’s spine.

“But Mr. Lee, remember—there’s no such thing as a free favor in this world. Someday, I may ask you for a small request.”

His heart turned to ice.

So it was Petrucci’s doing after all.

It wasn’t the police or the prosecution who’d caught Bancroft.

It was the Mafia.

“W-what… kind of request…”

“Not yet. But when the time comes, I’ll be in touch. And when I do, I don’t want to hear the word ‘refuse’ from you.”

Click.

The call ended abruptly.

Lee Jun-hyuk slowly lowered the receiver.

His palm was damp with sweat.

Now, at last, he could see the whole picture hidden in the shadows.

Whether Petrucci had ‘created’ a witness to The Five-Year-Ago Arson Case, or had tracked down the real witness and forced him to speak up—

Either way, to catch the tiger called Bancroft, he’d borrowed the hand of an even more fearsome devil.

“Now, I’m in debt to the Mafia.”

And it was a debt he would someday have to repay—a debt greater than any other.

He looked out the window.

Sunlight poured in, dazzlingly bright.

The peaceful scene of Brooklyn.

But behind that tranquil scenery, there lurked a great shadow where fists, not law, ruled.

Just then, Yu Ilhan came up to the office, his face beaming.

“It’s really a relief, boss! Now we can finally focus on our business!”

Lee Jun-hyuk couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Relax?

In truth, an even greater worry had just landed in his lap—one far beyond anything before.

“Boss?”

Yu Ilhan caught the odd look on his face.

“Is… is there a problem?”

He hesitated for a moment.

Should he tell him about this, about being entangled with the Mafia?

“Actually…”

Just then, as if on cue, the phone rang again.

There was no end to phone calls today.

“I’ll get it.”

Yu Ilhan picked up the receiver.

“La Choy Food… Oh, Harrison! …Yes? …Yes, really?”

Yu Ilhan’s face grew brighter and brighter with disbelief.

He hung up and turned to Lee Jun-hyuk.

He was grinning from ear to ear.

“Macy’s Department Store just called!”

“Macy’s?”

“Yes! Chairman Wanamaker saw the article and wants to see our products in person! We’ve set up a meeting for 2 p.m. tomorrow!”

John Wanamaker II. The real power behind Macy’s Department Store and a living legend in New York’s retail industry.

Just yesterday, it seemed impossible even to get near him. Now he was reaching out first.

“Really?”

“Yes! According to Harrison, after reading the article, he thought we were a company with backbone, standing up to someone like Bancroft. We’ve gained a kind of sympathy and encouragement.”

Such was the power of the press. The front-page article had become the best possible publicity.

“And there’s more!”

With trembling hands, Yu Ilhan showed him a memo.

“Gourmet Deli just placed an additional order for 500 units, Grand Union called for a formal contract, Fine Food Market is urgently requesting a tasting event…”

Orders and inquiries were pouring in.

All from people who’d read about Bancroft’s arrest.

A small Asian company that refused to bow to Bancroft—and the unique canned goods they made. This compelling story had moved the hearts of New York’s merchants.

“This… this is incredible.”

Yu Ilhan couldn’t hide his excitement.

“So this is what it means to turn misfortune into a blessing! Bancroft actually helped us out in the end!”

He was right.

On the surface, it looked that way.

A desperate crisis seemed to have turned into the opportunity of a lifetime.

But Lee Jun-hyuk’s heart was heavy.

“Petrucci’s request.”

The bill for this favor would someday come flying in—and would cast a dark shadow over all this success.

“Boss, what’s wrong?”

Yu Ilhan glanced at his expression, worried.

“On such a good day, why do you look…”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Lee Jun-hyuk forced a smile.

“It’s just that so many unexpected things are happening at once. Just yesterday, I was worried everything would be over.”

“Right? It’s like everything changed overnight.”

Yu Ilhan looked out the window, voice full of emotion.

“It’s as if someone invisible is watching over us. Maybe we really have a Sooho Cheonsa?”

A guardian angel.

Yes, on the surface, it might look that way.

But Lee Jun-hyuk knew.

That their guardian angel didn’t carry white wings, but a black gun barrel. And that, someday, the price of salvation would certainly be demanded.