I’d Rather Live as a Villain

I’d Rather Live as a Villain – Episode 24

(Flamenco!)

Has this man lost his mind…

Who dares to slam the table like that?

Had the executive shown even the slightest sign of surprise, I would have slammed the table too.

But the executive, despite not understanding Spanish, maintained his composure and simply turned to Director Jinsung Cheol to ask for a trans lation of the conversation that had just taken place between me and the farm owners.

After hearing the overall content, the executive, still with his arms crossed in front of his chest, now crossed his legs more arrogantly.

“Señor Yoon. The words you just spoke. Can you stand by them?”

Don Adrike stepped forward to mediate the suddenly hostile atmosphere.

Don Pedro, the most vehement of the three elders.

His face was a mix of red and white, as if about to burst at any moment.

“What are you talking about?”

“3.3 euros. That’s the amount for the renewal. If not, there’s no deal.”

Soon after, Director Jin Sung-chul trans lated Don Adrike’s question to the executive, asking if he could take responsibility for what he had just said. Upon hearing the trans lation, the executive couldn’t help but let out a snicker, almost mocking the other party.

It was, indeed, a laughable question to anyone who heard it.

Why should we worry about them? Are they really concerned about us now?

I was just as incredulous.

So, I managed to suppress a smile that was about to show and replied,

“Señor Adrike.”

First, I diverted the attention of the farm owners, who were focused on the executive’s laughter, back to me.

“The olive business. For Daeyoung Merchandise and Daeyoung Group, this is not a project that requires the total responsibility of the chief executive.”

Director Jin Sung-chul, forgetting his role for a moment, was busy trans lating the rapid exchange of words across the negotiation table to the executive.

I made it clear that the importance of the olive business was not just tied to the Madrid branch but extended to the entire Daeyoung Merchandise and Daeyoung Group. From Daeyoung’s perspective, it was just one of countless projects.

“The olive business. Let me be frank. For Daeyoung Merchandise, it has not been a satisfactory business in terms of operating profit over the past four years. The investment in olive branding equipment, large warehouse rentals, maintenance costs, labor costs for our own staff, and marketing expenses to promote the brand. For two of the past four years, it has been a business that operated at a loss compared to its revenue.”

This was a fact.

The project was never solely focused on the olive oil business from the start.

For the headquarters’ Spanish team, the olive business was a foundation that could support the establishment of the Madrid branch.

In a way, it was a business that was sufficient if it only fulfilled that role.

And to add one more thing, it was about creating our own brand.

But the Madrid branch was already complete.

Where else could there be such a business? For us at Daeyoung Merchandise, the olive business was just beginning to recoup the initial investment and was poised to start generating real operating profits.

“But now, the farm side, whom we considered our partners, unilaterally wants to raise the margin by more than 30 percent. The responsibility I should bear, isn’t it rather something I should take on when being dragged around by a partner and agreeing to that margin?”

We had to consider the possibility that there was a company that approached these greedy farm owners with an offer starting in the 4 euro range.

Or perhaps someone had influenced them.

Otherwise, there’s no way the figure of 4.5 euros would have come up.

But they hinted at a renewal for 4 euros.

That means, if there was a company that approached these farm owners, the margin they proposed would be just over 4 euros at best.

4.1 or maybe 4.2.

If not, and there was a force that had influenced these farm owners, we had to investigate the credibility of that force.

If it weren’t for that, they wouldn’t dare to notify us of a 30 percent increase in margin so fearlessly.

There’s been a history of dealings.

How comfortably they must have sucked the honey, so to speak, by working with us.

To gamble with the readiness to give up that honey?

At that age?

But here’s something to think about.

If there was a company that approached us with a margin in the 4 euro range, could they really offer a minimum order quantity guarantee like our Daeyoung Mulsan?

We’ve been providing a 700-ton guarantee every year.

In the past four years, we’ve only exceeded that guaranteed volume once.

In the end, we didn’t pay 3.3 euros per liter, but at least 3.5 euros or more, excluding the year we exceeded the guaranteed volume, for the remaining three years.

It was possible to have such a contract with them because we are Daeyoung Mulsan.

Our real goal wasn’t limited to olive oil; it was to establish a Madrid branch to bring in more business items more easily.

If there is a company that has blinded these greedy farm owners, where could it be?

I’ve given it a lot of thought.

It can’t possibly be a Korean company.

There can’t be a company that would intentionally be at odds with us, Daeyoung.

Then China? Or Japan?

The nationality of the company isn’t important.

What matters is whether they can satisfy all the conditions and benefits we, Daeyoung, have provided to these greedy farm owners over the past four years.

It’s impossible.

A 700-ton guarantee?

That’s not easy.

Apart from securing that volume, digesting it is only possible because we are Daeyoung Mulsan; it’s impossible for a regular company.

No matter how much I think about it, I can’t come up with a company that would go against us, Daeyoung Mulsan, to take over the contract.

Unless it’s a business item critical to the company’s survival, an item like olives isn’t attractive enough for a company of a similar size to Daeyoung Group to pick a fight first.

After all, olives are not semiconductors.

Nor are they renewable energy, batteries, or automobiles.

Then we must expand our suspicion towards the force that has swayed these greedy yet simple farm owners.

Who, and why?

There was only one face that came to mind.

Park Je-dong, former head of the European Division.

There’s a possibility he told the greedy farm owners to raise their margin base.

Being the top decision-maker, he assured them that he would okay it without question, so they should just trust him and raise the margin base.

And while doing so, he might have asked for a kickback to be slipped into his own pocket.

With such assurances, he spoke to the farm owners.

“Five years ago, when I went around personally asking each of you esteemed elders to become partners with Daeyoung Corporation, the average price per liter for Andalusian olives was between 2.7 and 2.8 euros.”

Don Pedro’s eyes were gradually becoming kinder.

“But I secured you a price of 3.3 euros. Do you remember what I told you when I did that?”

All three were silent as if they had honey in their mouths.

“Daeyoung Corporation will create the world’s top-grade olive oil brand. For that, we need the world’s top-grade olives. 2.7 euros, 2.8 euros. That’s not the price for the world’s top-grade olives. Regardless of the actual quality, Daeyoung will purchase the world’s top-grade olives from you. Because value is determined by price, not the other way around.”

“…”

“That was the price we adjusted upwards for you. To create the value of our brand, to build the foundation and justification for that value.”

“…”

“And now you want to set the value of our brand’s products yourselves? That’s not acceptable. What have you done to contribute to the current status of Cortone (Daeyoung’s olive oil brand)?”

Listening to my words through the interpretation of Director Jin Seong-cheol, the executive unfolded his arms from his chest, interlocked his fingers, and then placed his clasped hands on one knee.

“We’ve won awards in a total of 21 olive oil contests. Do you think those awards come easily? No, they cost money. The value of Cortone today has been built up by the trophies we’ve accumulated by sponsoring those contests. With the money made from these olives, Daeyoung has invested in promoting the excellence of Andalusian olives.”

“…”

“But 4.5 euros? You’re offering 4 euros as if you’re doing us a favor? Once the contract period for the facilities invested by Daeyoung ends, we’ll take everything back.”

At my words, the farm owners started looking at each other in shock.

“Warehouse? You can go back to how things were before. Margin? You three will have to start competing in margins again, dealing with various companies like in the old days. How long do you think the image of Andalusian olives that Daeyoung has built up will last without us?”

“But there has been inflation over the past four years…”

Don Adrique almost cried as he spoke.

I insisted, shutting him up.

“3.3 euros. The minimum volume guarantee will be limited to 500 tons from now on.”

“Look here, Yoon!”

“If you agree to these terms, we can re-sign right here and now. If not, you can start looking for a new partner from this moment.”

I’m sorry to say this to the farm owners, but it’s not complicated.

This is how major Korean corporations deal with subcontractors, and it’s Daeyoung’s style.

The reason I’m going this far is that this was a project I created with my own hands, and I still have lingering attachments to this business.

“And after all, consumers are buying Cortone, but how many of them are purchasing it because its origin is here in Andalusia?”

“…”

“We only have to give up one brand, Cortone, but Mr. Don will have to give up a great deal and start anew from the beginning.”

“But there must be some return on the investment that Daeyoung has made in the facilities…”

Don Pedro.

Was he always this kind-hearted?

“Thinking about breaking even is something that only companies who see it as their everything do.”

I took out the prepared contract documents from my briefcase, placed them on the table, and personally handed a copy to each of the three farm owners.

“Margin increase. You can certainly request and propose it to us. But this method, it will be problematic in the future. You can make any requests and proposals regarding the margin, but the decision to continue living with that margin is ours to make. We are the ones buying, aren’t we?”

And with those words, I made our, my position clear.

“But now, the trust in our partner has returned to zero. With the mindset of starting over, 3.3 euros. The decision on this matter is indeed Mr. Don’s to make.”

***

Having successfully concluded the five-year extension contract with the farm owners, I got into the car with the executive.

Spain, Andalusia, where the days are longer than anywhere else in Europe.

“Still, it’s the first day of our honeymoon, shouldn’t we do something?”

“Just trust me.”

A land with many stories hidden behind its beauty.

Sacromonte.

To the east of the Chapis road leading to Granada’s Albayzín, there lies a hill spread out like a painting.

From a distance, it looks very much like the Korean-style park cemetery where my father rests.

The only difference is that here, instead of burial mounds, there are houses clustered together like anthills.

While driving with the executive, I said,

“When my father was alive, after finishing his voyages and returning to Korea, he would spend almost all his time at home.”

“Your father?”

“Yes. He enjoyed watching travel programs about the world on TV. When I was young, I found them utterly boring. But since my father liked them, and I loved my father whom I rarely saw, I didn’t throw a tantrum and watched with him.”

“You were kind-hearted even as a child, Executive Yoon.”

Feeling the executive’s gaze on me, I continued to drive.

“Then one program featured Spain. That’s when I fell for it, the country of Spain. It was so attractive to me.”

“Which part?”

“I’m not sure about that far. It just seemed like… a fantasy had appeared. Gypsies, flamenco. We’re heading in that direction right now. It will have a different charm from the Alhambra Palace.”

It is said that the wandering gypsies, as they migrated southward, were rejected by the cities and could not enter, making this place their last bastion.

Turning the steering wheel towards the entrance of the hill, I asked the executive.

“Sir, if I ask you to dance with me today, would you?”

“Dance?”

“There’s no one watching. You don’t have to be good at it. I just want to create a memory. As you said, it’s still a honeymoon. And since you came here for that honeymoon because of me, I feel I should take that responsibility.”

Mascara.

The ant hill restaurant in Sacromonte.

Inside, there’s a stage with a wooden floor, and a guitarist who doesn’t care who comes to dance their heart out in flamenco, regardless of skin color.

I pulled the executive’s hand and led him onto the stage.

“How? Like this?”

After showing the basic dance moves, I wrapped my arms around the executive’s waist from behind.

“Flamenco! Like this?”

I gave a euro to the gypsy guitarist and bought a single rose, tucking it beside the executive’s ear.

The executive’s movements were stiffer than a robot’s.

But the expression on his face, awkwardly mimicking the movements, was more flexible and brighter than ever before.

I began to feel certain.

Ah, I’m really falling for this woman, Kang Moon-jung, aren’t I?

“Hehe. This is easier than it looks. Is this how you do flamenco?”

I wrapped my hands around the executive’s waist once more.

And then, turning him around from behind, I nodded my head.

As if to say yes, that’s right, and you’re doing better than expected.

After this dance, after this meal, I’ll have to return to the hotel with the executive.

I wonder if I’ll be able to sleep tonight.