The Greatest Conglomerate Ever With the American Lottery - The Greatest Conglomerate Ever With the American Lottery chapter 50

50. This is not home.

The last time I traveled abroad with my family was in the third grade of middle school.

My dad took me to Thailand because our family was doing pretty well at the time.

Somi, you were so young you probably don’t even remember.

And then, after that, well, you know. Traveling was out of the question as we were desperately trying to find a place where we could sleep comfortably.

So, after I won the US Powerball, I said I would go once, but I was busy here and there, so I put it off for a while, and now I’m finally going.

We scheduled the trip to coincide with the school festival after Somi’s midterms, but it turned into a 12-day long trip because we were told that we could take more than 10 days off if we added this and that before and after the festival.

Our first stop was Cebu, Philippines.

It is the second largest city in the Philippines, and it is called Cebu City in Gyeongsangnam-do because Koreans visit it so much.

There are many great tourist destinations in the Philippines, but the reason I chose Cebu as my first destination is entirely due to my mom.

“No, Mom, why do you want to go to Cebu? Hawaii is great, Maldives is great, or Europe is possible, although it’s 12 days, so it’s kind of tight.”

“Really? No, Mom, why the Philippines? I’ve been there as a language student, I don’t like it! It’s dirty and dangerous! If you’d rather go to Southeast Asia, why not Bali, Indonesia or Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia?”

Somi and I cut her off in unison.

What the heck is the Philippines?

I had studied abroad in Baguio, an educational city on the northern island of Luzon, which was supposed to be the coolest and safest place in the country.

However, Somi and I had to shut up when my mom said.

“You know, you guys don’t know this, but right before my dad’s business went under, we were going to go on a family vacation to Cebu, Philippines. So my mom’s wish has always been to go to Cebu when we can afford it again, and of course, if you guys are still against it, we can just go somewhere else—.”

“…”

“…”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?

Why do you make your kids look like assholes?

“Ai, then why didn’t you tell me? Let’s go! Details!”

“Yes, mom, I wanted to go to Cebu originally.”

And that’s how we settled on Cebu.

However, I didn’t want to spend 12 days in the Philippines, so I decided to spend half the time in the Philippines and the other half in Bali, Indonesia.

“Boss! You’re here!”

“hahahahaha, Harry, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

After a nearly five-hour flight from Incheon International Airport, I landed at Mactan International Airport in Cebu and was greeted at the departure hall by Harry, the head of my security team.

The Philippines has always had a reputation for being a dangerous place, but as far as I can remember, it’s especially bad.

Even when I was in Baguio, one of the safest cities in the country, I saw two guys from my language school get pickpocketed, and one of them ended up in the hospital after being stabbed.

Of course, this was after going to one of the few nightlife areas in Baguio that they were warned not to go to.

Cebu, by the way, is a place where the Department of Foreign Affairs has declared the entire area off-limits except for Lapu-Lapu City, where the airport is located.

I mean, a place that is said to be visited by more than 400,000 Koreans a year is a no-travel zone?

I was shocked to hear that, but it was true.

It’s always said in principle that you shouldn’t do what you’re not supposed to do, and that it’s safe to go to areas that you’re not supposed to go to, but it honestly seemed like a story told by the locals.

It was my mom’s wish, but I couldn’t bite her now.

In the end, after some deliberation, I called Harry’s team in the US.

It’s best to be safe than sorry, because there’s always a chance.

It’s not like I don’t have a bodyguard.

“Huh? Is that Harry?”

“Hi! Sommie!”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s Somi, not Somi?”

“hahahaha! Sorry, Somi!”

“…”

Somi, who had spent two weeks at my house in LA, USA, and had gotten to know me well, also greeted the Harry team.

“Who are those nosey people?”

“Uh, Dad, they’re my bodyguards back in the States.”

“Bodyguards? Do you have that?”

“Yes, because I’m valuable.”

“Are you crazy, is America like Somalia or Afghanistan?”

“Why, how many people get shot in America a day?”

“Chul-Sik is right, it’s best to be safe. Good job, Chul-Sik.”

“Yes, mom. Hmph!”

We piled into the car Harry had rented and headed straight to the luxury resort we had booked.

I’d heard that resorts are the best when you’re in an unsafe place.

Especially if you’re traveling with a family, he said, because you can practically do everything from the resort.

“Oh my God, this is so nice!”

“hehehe! That’s great!”

“Wow! You’re the best!”

So, how much are these rooms?

We booked two of the best rooms in the suite.

And our family started hanging out inside the resort.

Someone said we’d never go outside, and they were right.

We had our own private beach, a golf course, and everything else.

There were plenty of activities like scuba and jet skiing.

The food was amazing.

“Ho-ho-ho!”

“hahahahaha!”

I actually had a great time with my family from abroad for the first time since the third grade.

Maybe this is why I need to make money.

However, there’s only so much fun you can have at a resort, so on the second day, we ventured downtown for some food and shopping while being chaperoned by Harry’s team.

Then, on the evening of the fifth day.

“It’s my brother.”

“It’s Somi.”

“Huh?”

“Do any of your friends have minor injuries?”

“Huh? How did you know?”

“Because you’re my brother, right?”

“hehehe, can you tell?”

“How many years did I spend in Jinhae?”

“Come on, big brother, let’s go shopping.”

“Again?”

“We have to leave here tomorrow, so let’s see some more before then.”

“What about mom and dad?”

“I asked them earlier, but they said they were tired and just wanted to go for a walk.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Mmm.”

I took Team Harry out shopping with Somi, and since we had been to SM Seaside Mall a few times, which is the biggest mall in the Philippines, we headed to Ayala Mall, which is supposed to be the best.

Shopping for girls is so hard.

It’s so hard to choose what to buy.

If I had my mom with me, I’d let her shop and we could go out and spend time together, but since it was just me and Somi, I couldn’t do that.

I’m realizing the limits of my patience. Somi’s shopping spree was finally over.

She said she didn’t have much to buy, so she just finished quickly.

We finally exit the underground parking lot, but it’s late summer and traffic is heavy.

We barely make it out of the parking lot, but the traffic is still bad.

However, there was a poor Filipino kid on the side of the road outside the car window with a bag of peanuts, selling peanuts to the cars stuck in traffic.

This is what the Philippines is like.

I felt bad for the kid, but I can’t take care of all the poor kids in the Philippines.

I look at the child outside the window nonchalantly, and I realize that this child is strange.

There’s something different about him than the average local Filipino kid.

Raggedy shorts, a running shirt, and a skinny body from not eating enough.

He’s dressed like a typical poor kid, but what’s wrong with him?

What’s wrong with his eyes?

And your skin is whiter than the other kids?

“Oh, big brother.”

“Huh?”

“He looks like a Korean kid, doesn’t he?”

“He does, doesn’t he?”

Somi pressed the car window down button.

“Somi, don’t open it!”

Harry, sitting in the front seat, urged, but the window was already down and the kid was holding a bag of peanuts.

“Do you speak English?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How much for peanuts?”

“Ten pesos.”

“Can you give me all of them?”

“Really?”

“Yes, but you don’t look Filipino to me.”

“I’m Korean, my dad is Korean—.”

“What?”

“What?”

Somi and I exclaimed at the same time in surprise.

Your dad is Korean?

And Kopino?

“What are you doing here anyway? Where’s your mom and where’s your dad?”

“Mom is sick. I don’t know about Dad. I’ve never seen him.”

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

“Well, well—.”

These are the stories I heard all too often in Baguio.

Assholes who come here for cheap s*x tourism, or to study abroad and have fun, and then run off to Korea when a Filipina gets pregnant.

Was this child one of them?

I was speechless.

But this kid looks so much like a Korean kid.

His skin is a little darker, but if you saw him in Korea, you’d think he was just a regular Korean kid.

That’s why it hurt even more.

A child who must have had at least a minimal standard of living in Korea is selling peanuts to tourists because she can’t eat?

That’s what I think, but is Somi any different?

“Oh, brother. What should we do about this kid? He’s so pitiful.”

“Hah—.”

His dad’s genes are so strong, he looks like a Korean kid.

So it was like a Korean kid selling peanuts in the Philippines.

Damn.

This is why I hate the Philippines.

Anyway, it seemed like a waste to leave the kid alone.

I’m going to leave him here to fester.

“Brother.”

“Burn it.”

“Ugh!”

“Boss!”

“Harry, it’s not dangerous, leave him alone.”

“Okay.”

Somi got out and said something to the kid, who hesitated for a moment before getting into the car.

He looked so shabby that I expected him to stink, but surprisingly, he didn’t smell like he hadn’t been properly washed.

“What’s your name?”

“Hoshin.”

“Do you have a Korean name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a Korean name? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“How old are you?”

“Twelve years old.”

“…”

“…”

She’s not eating well, so she’s probably 10 at most, but 12?

“Is your mom sick?”

“She went to the hospital, so she’s a little better now.”

“Really? How much money do you make selling these?”

“100 pesos.”

“…”

One hundred pesos, about two or three hundred dollars in our money.

Unbelievable.

“Jose, where is your house?”

“It’s about 4 kilometers from here.” “You walk from there to here to sell peanuts?”

“Yeah.”

“Ha—.”

What the hell am I supposed to do with this kid?

Can’t you just give him some money and go?

“My brother—.”

“Harry!”

“Yes, boss.”

“Let’s go where this kid wants to go. To the kid’s house.”

“Yes, boss.”

He led the way to the kid’s house.

After a short distance, they came to a slum of ramshackle shacks.

“You can’t drive in from here.”

“Really? Then let’s get out.”

“Boss, that’s a little—.”

“Why don’t you and Harry take a couple of people with you?”

“Okay, boss.”

Harry and two others agreed to go with him, while the other two guarded the car.

Then, the winding alleyways.

There was no sign of running water or sewage, and the stench of the place was unbearable.

And then there were the big white guys, two Northeast Asians, and a Kopino.

It was an eye-catcher.

Harry’s nervousness was palpable.

“This is my house.”

We finally arrived at Jose’s house.

“Oh my God, how!”

Somi exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes.

“My, sh*t!”

This is not a house.

How in the world can a place that looks like a warehouse be a home?