The Imperial Hunter

Chapter 40: Starving Port (2)



Chapter 40: Starving Port (2)

“Miss Maria, how much is the minimum wage in Mexico? Oh, please eat and tell me. You can take your time.”

The woman who received the question swallowed what she was chewing so deliciously and then asked inquisitively.

“The minimum wage?”

“The legally set minimum wage.”

“Oh, that? Korea pays hourly. In our country, it’s paid by the day.”

“I see. So, how much is it?”

“It’s different in the northern and southern parts. In the northern border area, it was 180 pesos a day, I think? Or was it 185 pesos? Anyway, roughly around that. Here, it’s only 123 pesos. Even with a 20% increase from El Cacas.”

“El Cacas? Who’s that?”

Cacas meant ‘pieces of shit’ in Korean. It was a minor thing, but I wondered who could have such a nasty nickname. The woman answered with a small laugh.

“It’s President Lopez Obrador. His original nickname was El Peje, but he got a new one after scolding the corrupt big shots, saying ‘You pieces of shit!’ It happened earlier this year.”

I see. There might not be any ill will towards those who gave him the nickname, but it would have been better for President Obrador to have been called a specialty of his hometown. I nodded and returned to my steak.

“I understand what you mean. But Miss Maria, why aren’t you receiving the legal minimum wage? Is it possible that you’re being treated unfairly by your employer here?”

“Unfair treatment? Oh no!”

Maria jumped up to defend her boss.

“The boss is a good person. He’s also my dad’s friend. It’s just that in this industry, we have contracts that fill the wage with tips. Until earlier this year, the amount was higher than the minimum wage, so there wasn’t any problem. Thanks to the customers today, I might catch my breath…”

In the United States, the common format of employment contracts existed here as well. As Maria grew more tired and let out a sigh, her words became indistinct. Then, with a lack of energy, she began to slice the well-cooked beef tenderloin. I looked at her dejected appearance and solidified my plan.

‘Just offering the minimum wage will likely astonish a significant portion of the population.’

Puerto Vallarta was a poor city. This poverty began to reveal itself as soon as you crossed just one street from the beach, where large hotels and luxury resorts were abundant. Incomplete and rusty steel structures started to appear, accompanied by shabby houses and even shabbier people living there. Well-maintained areas were only a small part, and the rest of the city was filled with poor individuals who came seeking jobs supported by the money of tourists. Sometimes, walls painted in soft pastel tones, and other times, walls colored in intense primary hues, along with countless bougainvillea flowers, disguised this poverty as exotic romance.

Tourists who roamed these alleys probably saw only the surface and returned home with memories filled with all kinds of colors. They might have said that Puerto Vallarta was a beautiful place and, unlike typical Mexico, a safe place. However, the only reason they could be safe was the frequent patrols by armed military police.

Since the epidemic, this bare harbor had been suffering from a severe famine for almost three-quarters. The woman in front of me, just by having a job, was considered one of the fortunate few.

123 pesos.

The daily minimum wage here was barely around 7,000 won ($6). With a good excuse, you could barely survive a day on just 70 million won, let alone 10,000 people. Currently, I was involved in deals with a nominal market value exceeding 300 billion won, and the potential value of the blueprints I would obtain was much higher. So, I had plans to spend around 1-5% of the total deal amount as a safety cost. Considering the risk factor, even up to 10% if it became absolutely necessary. This was still a substantial sum, enough to shake the entire impoverished city.

The problem was the excuse. There was no convincing excuse. An excuse to keep all these people obedient…

“Señor.”

The woman caught my attention.

“What are you thinking so deeply about?”

How could I ensure that this harbor would remain peaceful until my departure? I didn’t care if it turned into hell after I left. If martial law was declared, like in Guadalajara, everything would be over. I responded after being asked, my mind still preoccupied with the thought.

“I’m thinking about doing something good.”

“Something good? What kind of thing?”

“Bringing hope to the citizens of this city.”

“…?”

Maria tilted her head in confusion. However, I wasn’t joking. As soon as the immediate threat of starvation disappeared, jobs, even if well-paying, would become unpopular if they risked people’s lives. It was uncertain whether even the cartel thugs would generously pay the daily wages of meat shields and lackeys.

So, providing false hope to this starving harbor would serve as a preventive measure to deter the factions competing for control from recruiting more sicarios, at least until my deal was completed.

“Earlier, you mentioned that your father used to work for the Harbor Office, right?”

Maria nodded cautiously in response to my question.

“He’s just on unpaid leave due to government budget issues, but he’s still associated with them.”

“That’s fortunate. Anyway, what do you think about introducing me to him?”

“Introducing you? To my father?”

“Yes. You see, I’ve been looking for the right person related to my work. I don’t know if you’re aware, but in Mexico, they call it the ‘Land of Friends (Amigo)’ among businessmen. They say that to do business, you need to make friends first.”

In other words, the ‘Land of Friends’ didn’t mean it was a friendly country; rather, it implied that without connections, you couldn’t achieve anything in the country. Just like China, the Philippines, Myanmar, Thailand, and other politically backward countries. I rested my chin on my hand.

“Since your father is coincidentally on break today, wouldn’t it be possible to arrange something?”

“Well, that’s… “

“I will offer compensation.”

“Hmm…”

Maria hesitated at my sudden proposal. Originally, I intended to use this woman as a bridge to approach Plaza Hefe, the cartel’s regional boss, but this was Mexico.

‘Across the road, there’s a luxury cruise dock that regularly hosted ships, right next to it is a casino where foreigners freely splurged their bills, and to the south, a line of hotels along the beach… It’s a strange place without any connection to the Plaza.’

Running a business in such a famous tourist spot without paying tribute to the cartel was an unimaginable task. This establishment, too, must have been paying the “Derecho de Piso” or “floor rights,” which was essentially a form of rent. Maria, as an employee, must have had connections with the Plaza organization members. Given her striking features, even lesser officers might have been interested.

In essence, I was looking for an ‘appropriately humble’ contact. It was easier to gain trust if the contact wasn’t a high-ranking figure. At the moment, I was just a foreign businessman with limited knowledge of this port, not “El Municionero.” So, if Maria’s father was a harbor official, it might be a better choice for me. It would reduce the number of bridges to cross.

‘Anyway, is this woman acting as a go-between?’

Luck seemed to be on my side. Maria, who was hesitating earlier, agreed.

“Alright, I’ll introduce you! My father has been quite gloomy lately, so it might be good for him. But, should we discuss the payment separately, for you and my father?”

“I’ll take care of it without any regrets.”

“Great, then we’re friends from today! But I still don’t know your name.”

“Call me Hwang.”

“Huan. From now on, you can call me Maria. Nice to meet you!”

In Chinese, I had transitioned from being a “new friend” to a “good friend”. It was a shift from someone almost like a stranger to someone you know a bit. Maria, who smiled and shook my hand, pointed to the table.

“Can I finish this first and then contact him?”

“Of course. Enjoy your meal; it looks good.”

“Really?”

“Yes. In Korea, we express someone who enjoys their food as ‘having good luck.’ So, let’s say you’re about as ‘feliz cara‘ in your terms.” (+)[1]TLN: Feliz cara/cara feliz = happy face (lit)

“Wow, I learned something new!”

Maria happily continued to eat, truly enjoying her meal. Kyung-tae, who was sipping horchata like me, said, “Hey, if she was Korean, she could have made a hit with mukbang, right?” Was mukbang a term for food broadcasts? There were so many confusing terms these days. I maintained my patient endurance to preserve Maria’s favorable impression of me.

So, after eating almost enough for six people and feeling content, Maria immediately called her father with a bright voice, saying she made a very good friend.

About 40 minutes later, an old Nissan Versa pulled up in front of the store. The car, in general, was not in good condition, and the bumper was covered in scratches from doing its job. The man who got out of the car scrutinized the waiting security vehicle carefully before entering the store. Maria lightly hugged him and introduced me.

“This is Huan I mentioned earlier. Huan, this is my father.”

I shook hands with the portly public servant.

“I’m Hwang.”

“Pedro. Pedro Santos Sanchez. You can call me ‘Perucho.'”

“Nice to meet you, Perucho.”

Perhaps because it was his daughter’s introduction or maybe he had some rare work after a long time, Perucho allowed a nickname from the first meeting. It could be the vibrancy of a lesser harbor official, who frequently received signs of respect from businessmen. Maria said, “You two talk. Huan, don’t forget to tip me before you leave,” and went back to her work. It was the position of an employee who had to endure the boss’s discomfort, pretending not to see his inconvenience while waiting for a guest who might not come.

The retired civil servant sitting across from me gave me a calculating look.

“So, you’re into business?”

“Yes.”

“Could you be more specific about the kind of business you’re in?”

“You can think of me as dabbling in various profitable fields. I own farms in several countries, run a company, and, as you can see in front of you, not many, but I also have a few passenger ships. Currently, I’m visiting candidate ports to include in the passenger routes.”

“I see. You must be quite impressive.”

Perucho, trying not to seem too impressed. But I had only spoken the truth. Over the past few years, one of the items consistently included in the investment portfolio of Yeouido Kim-ssi was the purchase of overseas farmlands, a company is a basic necessity, and there were a few passenger ships, including a cruise ship that exclusively catered to foreigners, playing in the West Sea and South Sea, and a cruise ferry traveling between Vladivostok. (+)[2]TLN: I made a mistake in translating Kim’s name. Before, I translated him as Kim from Yeoudio. That’s not right. The MC is literally calling him Yeouido Kim. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Among these, the smallest ship was the cruise ferry with a capacity of 500 passengers, which I acquired this year for a mere 600 million won in a court auction. The company that owned it originally went bankrupt due to the economic downturn, and there were no buyers because of consecutive outbreaks of group infections on cruise ships.

‘Everyone probably thought it was a bad time.’

In the end, this ship, which had repeated multiple failures in the auction, became the property of an organization affiliate at a price that wasn’t even a quarter of the cost of new construction. I intended to use this ship for a deal with Bratsky Krug, a dealer in Russia.

I encouraged him.

“Let’s start with something to drink and talk.”

“Are you the one buying it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

In a November with low latitude, it was still warm for plump people. Perucho, with sweat on his forehead, readily accepted my offer.

“Maria! Don’t you have something cold and refreshing here?”

“How about Lemonade?”

“All right, I’ll have that.”

Perucho turned to me.

“How long have you been in the passenger business?”

“I’m starting with international routes in earnest for the first time now.”

“Starting a cruise business at a time like this? Aren’t you being too reckless?”

“On the contrary, it’s precisely because it’s a time like this that it’s worth trying. Do you think the prices of those cruise ships in front of us haven’t dropped considerably? In an economic downturn, the way to become truly wealthy is to strike while the iron is hot. In any business, there are always risks.”

“…That’s true.”

The retired civil servant smacked his lips and looked at the cruise ship moored in the harbor as if it hadn’t received proper management for nearly half a year. The passenger ship, which seemed to have been left to the elements, created a stagnant scene in the front waters of the port. That was why the Harbor Office had gone into hibernation.

“So, what do you want from me? Top-secret data for your business feasibility analysis? Or a smooth permit process? Maybe making sure local companies won’t overcharge to be included in the cruise itinerary?”

I tilted my head in response to the civil servant’s question.

“No, actually, before that, I’d like to do some charity work.”

“Charity work?”

“Exactly, I mean I want to help those in need. When I looked around the city, it seemed like there were so many people who couldn’t even have a meal. As a Christian, it was hard for me to just pass by the suffering of my brothers and sisters.”

Perhaps my earnest imitation of a devout believer was unexpected because Perucho looked a bit puzzled and asked again.

“Could you please tell me specifically what you’re planning to do?”

“Well, I don’t know. Should I start by giving each citizen at least one piece of bread?”

“Each citizen? Hahaha!”

Perucho burst into laughter.

“You seem to underestimate this city too much, Señor Huan. Do you know how many people live here? Just in the city center, there are 220,000! Including the suburbs, it’s almost 400,000! Let’s say you’re giving one piece of white bread for 30 pesos to 400,000 people. How much would that cost? Huh?”

“400,000 times 30 pesos… Well, that would be 12 million pesos, right?”

“….”

12 million pesos was roughly 700 million won. It was the cost of feeding the entire city at a cheap price for just one meal. The retired civil servant, who had been silent for a moment, seemed to have realized that I was sincere, as he swallowed and adjusted his posture to a more polite one. The daughter, who brought lemonade on a tray, found his transformation from stern to polite might have seemed refreshing.

  • 1. TLN: Feliz cara/cara feliz = happy face (lit)
  • 2. TLN: I made a mistake in translating Kim’s name. Before, I translated him as Kim from Yeoudio. That’s not right. The MC is literally calling him Yeouido Kim. Sorry for the inconvenience.
Author's Thoughts

Disclaimer:

This novel is a work of fiction! While it may incorporate elements inspired by our "real" historical world, including historical events, settings, and cultures, it is important to note that the story and characters are entirely products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work should be enjoyed and interpreted as a work of fiction and not as a representation of historical facts or reality.

Also, if you find some error in translation please do let me know by tagging me (@_dawn24) in our Discord server. Since this series is kinda hard to translate. But I'll try my best to make it at least readable :)

Enjoy reading~!


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