The pact forged in the quiet living room of Mr. Park Sung-ho was not merely an agreement; it was the foundation of a grand design. With Mr. Park's unwavering trust secured, Min-jun moved swiftly to gather the necessary capital for his initial investment. The sheer scale of the opportunity, seen through the lens of the Omni-7, demanded bold action.
The next morning, Min-jun approached his mother as she prepared breakfast. "Mother," he began, his voice calm and clear, "I need to ask you for something important."
Kang Eun-ju paused, turning from the stove, a questioning look on her face. Min-jun rarely asked for anything beyond books.
"The investment idea I spoke to Mr. Park about," he continued, "it requires a significant initial capital. Mr. Park believes in it, and he's willing to put in his own money." He looked directly into her eyes, conveying a seriousness that transcended his age. "I need all of your savings, Mother. It's a secure investment, and it will grow quickly, far faster than it would in the bank. This is for our future."
Kang Eun-ju hesitated for a moment, her gaze searching his face. Her savings, a modest sum carefully accumulated over years of diligent work, were earmarked for Min-jun's education, a nest egg for his future. It was a significant portion of their financial security. However, Min-jun's unwavering composure, combined with the implicit endorsement of Mr. Park, a man she trusted implicitly, swayed her. She remembered Mr. Park's excited phone call, his voice filled with an uncharacteristic enthusiasm when he spoke of Min-jun's "brilliance."
Later that afternoon, when Mr. Park visited to discuss the logistics, he readily confirmed Min-jun's assertion with an enthusiastic nod and a reassuring smile. "Eun-ju-ssi, Min-jun has a remarkable mind. I've never seen anything like it. This investment… it's sound. Very sound."
Seeing Mr. Park's genuine conviction and the quiet confidence radiating from her son, Kang Eun-ju's last shred of doubt vanished. Her heart swelled with pride. Her son, her little scholar, was not just intelligent; he was ambitious and shrewd, already thinking of their future. "Of course, Min-jun-ah," she said, her voice soft with affection and trust. "If Mr. Park agrees, then I agree. It's for you, after all." With a light heart, she retrieved her bankbook and the modest passbook, handing them over without hesitation.
The following day, Mr. Park, now fully committed, combined his own funds with the money from Min-jun's mother. The sum, while not enormous by future standards, was a considerable amount for 1990. He then faced the bureaucratic hurdles of international finance. Opening an international trading account in 1990 was an exercise in patience. Forms had to be filled out meticulously, faxes sent, and wires painstakingly arranged through correspondent banks. The process, archaic and agonizingly slow compared to the instantaneous digital transactions of 2030 that Min-jun had observed on the Omni-7, took several days to finalize. Each step was a test of Mr. Park's newly found faith, but his resolve, bolstered by Min-jun's calm certainty, remained unshaken.
Once the account was active, Min-jun delivered his instructions. His strategy was precise, honed by hours of detailed analysis of future market data. "Mr. Park," he began, spreading out a sheet of paper filled with precise figures and company names, "we will be allocating the majority of the funds into two specific companies. The first is Dell Computer Corporation. They are going public very soon, and their growth trajectory, particularly in the personal computing market, will be explosive. The second is a smaller company, currently less known, called Cisco Systems. They specialize in networking equipment, and their technology will become foundational for the internet's infrastructure in the coming decade."
He provided specific buy orders, entry points, and even tentative long-term holding strategies. Mr. Park, despite his years of experience, found himself simply executing orders, his mind racing to keep up with the logic Min-jun presented. The "analyses" Min-jun provided, extracted from 2030 reports, were so comprehensive, so utterly logical, that Mr. Park couldn't find a single flaw. He simply acted.
The results were beyond even Mr. Park's wildest expectations. The growth was not just steady; it was immediate and explosive. Dell's IPO was a resounding success, and its stock price surged in the first few weeks, driven by strong market demand for personal computers. Cisco, initially a sleeper, quickly began to gain traction as the burgeoning internet infrastructure demanded more robust networking solutions. The initial capital, combined from Min-jun's mother's savings and Mr. Park's funds, doubled in a matter of weeks. The numbers on the trading screen were almost unbelievable, climbing steadily, unfailingly.
Mr. Park found himself transitioning from a mere proxy to an eager student. Min-jun would regularly print out concise, insightful reports detailing market trends, company news from the future, and economic forecasts, all presented as his own "analysis." Mr. Park would pore over these documents, diligently learning from them. He began to understand the subtle shifts in the market, the indicators Min-jun seemed to instinctively grasp. His awe for Min-jun deepened with each passing day. He knew he was witnessing something truly unprecedented, a financial savant of unimaginable skill. He asked questions, and Min-jun, always patient and clear, would explain concepts in a way that Mr. Park readily absorbed, further solidifying the younger boy's narrative of innate genius.
Min-jun, however, was acutely aware of the need for discretion. Such rapid, consistent, and extraordinary gains would inevitably attract unwanted attention if not managed carefully. "Mr. Park," Min-jun instructed one evening, his voice serious, "as our capital grows, we need to ensure its origins appear completely legitimate. We need to set up a series of diversified accounts, possibly in different brokerage firms, and layer the transactions. Make it look like savvy, high-volume trading, not a single, impossible stroke of luck."
Mr. Park, drawing upon his years as an accountant, understood the necessity. He meticulously established a network of accounts, spreading the growing capital across various portfolios, investing in a broader range of future-proven companies Min-jun identified. Each transaction was carefully designed to appear as if it stemmed from brilliant, but not supernatural, market timing and analysis. The trail was obscured, making the funds seem like the product of exceptional, but plausible, financial acumen.
One afternoon, Min-jun noticed his mother sighing wistfully over an advertisement for a new, sleek refrigerator, far beyond their current means. It was a small detail, but it resonated deeply with him. His mother had sacrificed so much.
That evening, he approached Mr. Park. "Mr. Park," he said, "I believe it's important to see some tangible benefits from our efforts. I would like to use a small portion of the profits to buy my mother a new refrigerator. The one she wants."
Mr. Park smiled, a genuine, warm smile. It was a thoughtful gesture, a reminder of Min-jun's quiet care for his mother amidst the dizzying numbers. "A splendid idea, Min-jun-ah," he agreed.
A few days later, a gleaming, state-of-the-art refrigerator was delivered to their modest home. Kang Eun-ju stared at it, her hands flying to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. "Min-jun! Mr. Park! What is this?"
Min-jun simply smiled. "A small return on your investment, Mother. You deserve it."
She embraced him tightly, tears streaming down her face. "My son," she whispered, "you truly are a genius. And Mr. Park, you are a godsend!" She immediately called her neighbors, her voice brimming with tearful joy, proclaiming to anyone who would listen how her brilliant son, mentored by his late father's old friend, Mr. Park, was already making them prosperous. The narrative of Min-jun as a financial prodigy, supported by Mr. Park, gained effortless traction within their small community. It was the perfect cover, a publicly accepted explanation for their steadily improving fortunes. The first seed had been planted, not just of wealth, but of a carefully constructed reality.