I Will Raise This Family to Greatness - Chapter 260

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 260
Crash—
The uppercut I’d learned from George Foreman connected perfectly, and Chad crumpled to the office floor.
Everyone stared down at him in shock, but no one moved to help him up.
They all seemed to be people Chad had hired.
And they all appeared to be in a daze from Chad’s relentless pressure over the past few days.
I surveyed the three men in the office.
“Now, all of you—explain how you came to be involved in this and tell me your names.”
The three men exchanged glances before a tall man wearing glasses stepped forward.
“I’m Kevin Shaw. I’m a Stanford graduate student who came here thinking it was a part-time job. The hourly rate was better than other places. And these are all my graduate school classmates—I introduced them all. So they’re not at fault. Please believe me.”
“Kevin, did you receive all your wages?”
“Only part of it. But that’s fine. We had doubts about the work from the start anyway. I’m actually relieved we’re stopping now.”
“Who said it was fine?”
At my words, the three men froze.
Mark tried to stop me.
“Sung-guk, let it go. These guys didn’t know what they were getting into.”
“Mark, I still have more to say.”
I quickly scanned Kevin Shaw and the other two.
“It’s not fine with me. You all participated in illegal activity.”
At the word “illegal,” Kevin Shaw and the others’ faces drained of color.
As graduate students, this kind of record could hurt their job prospects. And Stanford students no less! They’d surely been dreaming of earning hundreds of millions in salary at Silicon Valley tech companies after graduation.
“I… Sung-guk, please forgive us just this once. I swear we’ll never do anything illegal like this again.”
“Kevin Shaw and friends—clean up every trace of this place, and after my match with Mike Tyson, prepare detailed résumés and come to the FaceNote Office Building.”
Kevin Shaw looked bewildered at my words.
“Sung-guk… what do you mean?”
“Our YouTube manager mentioned that the adult content posted from here was uploaded in the most difficult way to trace. The algorithm exposure was incredible too. The Chad Chun I know doesn’t have that kind of ability.”
“Sung-guk!”
Chad Chun, still lying on the ground, thrashed about.
I ignored him and continued.
“All three of you seem quite talented. If you’re interested, bring your résumés to our FaceNote. What do you say?”
“Really, sir?”
Kevin Shaw asked again.
“I’m Jeon Sung-guk. I don’t go back on my word.”
* * *
I drove my Porsche toward Sergey Brin’s House.
Elon Musk opened the door.
“Sung-guk!”
“Elon… your friend’s place was Sergey’s house?”
“Yeah. I thought you knew…”
I didn’t have the luxury of paying attention to such details these days.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been out of it lately.”
But Sergey Brin was nowhere to be seen.
“Elon. But I don’t see Sergey anywhere.”
“Ah, Sergey went to New York with his wife for a bit… but of course he’ll be back before your match, Sung-guk. Come on in.”
I tilted my head in confusion.
So he sent me a message and then immediately left for New York.
[What is Sergey up to, exactly….]
Elon smiled and led me inside.
“Sung-guk, let me show you around Sergey’s place. That guy really has the luck of fortune. Look at this house. When will you or I ever live in a place like this?”
“But you could do it right now, Elon. The news keeps coming out about your new cars doing well.”
“You know the companies I run are money-eating machines.”
Elon took a sip of wine and let out a heavy sigh.
“Anyway, Sung-guk. Sergey mentioned that you might find your way here.”
I took a sip of water and looked at Elon.
“Elon… I’m curious about something.”
“What is it?”
“What do you think of Sergey Brin? Setting aside the businessman, the friend—as a person, what do you think?”
“Hmm… A Russian fox?”
My thoughts aligned perfectly with Elon’s.
Elon smiled awkwardly and continued.
“You know Sergey grew up in Russia—or rather, the Soviet Union—as a child, right?”
“Yes….”
Sergey Brin had grown up under his parents, who were university professors in the Soviet Union before Russia’s current era, before coming to the United States.
“You probably didn’t talk much about these things with him because of the age difference, but when you think about it, Sergey is quite pitiful too.”
[Elon Musk. When you think about it, there’s no one more pitiful than me. He suffered a heart attack the day before the chairman’s inauguration ceremony and left this world….]
I waited silently for Elon Musk’s next words.
“When Sergey lived in Russia, it was during the Soviet era, the Cold War. Back then, Sergey’s parents were Soviet elites. And because so many elites were abandoning the Soviet Union and going to other countries, the state’s surveillance was naturally intense, right?”
“Hmm… I suppose so.”
“Sergey once told me about this. When he was young in the Soviet Union, a KGB agent approached him with a proposal. It was on his way home from school… The KGB agent grabbed Sergey and asked him to report if any strangers ever came to his house. In return, they’d give him whatever video game console he wanted. But if he told his parents about this, not only would Sergey be in danger, but his parents wouldn’t be safe either.”
It was the KGB’s method of making children surveil their own parents.
“At first, Sergey was blinded by the desire for the game console and eagerly waited for strangers to visit. But as time passed and no one came, and the KGB agent grew tired, a strange man finally showed up. And that man gave Sergey the very game console he had so desperately wanted.”
“Hmm… So did Sergey report this to the KGB agent?”
“Of course he didn’t. Instead, Sergey secretly threw away the game console and told the KGB agent that no one had visited.”
“I understand lying to protect your parents, but why did he throw away the game console?”
“Even as a child, Sergey knew the KGB was watching his house, and he hated them. But because of the game console, he began to see himself as the very KGB agent he despised—someone watching his parents. It tormented him.”
“But that doesn’t mean he had to throw away the game console the visitor gave him.”
“After the visitor left, his parents told Sergey they were going to escape to America. That’s when Sergey realized—in America, he could easily buy a game console like that. So until he escaped the Soviet Union, he survived by lying every day to the KGB agents waiting on his way to school.”
Elon finished speaking and drank his wine.
“Elon, you just gave Sergey a legitimate backstory for why he acts so inscrutably now. Why he observes every situation persistently and meticulously before making his choice, right?”
“Haha. Sung-guk, you really do understand everything in one go.”
“Elon, may I offer you one piece of advice?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t touch anything belonging to that kind of person.”
[Especially not women…]
“A kid giving advice….”
Elon ruffled my hair roughly, then gave my backside a light smack.
“Focus on your match with Mike Tyson, Sung-guk. I’ll definitely be there that day. I want to see how that arrogant Jeon Sung-guk gets knocked out in one punch by the nuclear fist Mike Tyson.”
“Everyone will be watching with that same sentiment. Elon, see you that day. Tell Sergey to come watch too.”
I stood up and left Sergey Brin’s House.
If I had been in Sergey Brin’s position, forced to live under surveillance by KGB agents in the Soviet Union, what would I have done?
When a neighbor I knew well—not an American spy—visited our home, I would have eagerly reported him to the KGB agents and gotten a gaming console out of it.
After that, I probably would have made similar reports several more times until the KGB realized I was nothing but a foolish boy and left me alone.
That way, I’d have the gaming console and protect my parents too, wouldn’t I?
* * *
One day before the match with Mike Tyson.
George Foreman’s final lesson took place.
“Sung-guk, you’ve worked hard all this time. Today’s the last one.”
“George, I’m truly grateful for everything.”
“Sung-guk… you know what your coach needs more than thanks? Victory.”
“George, you obviously think I’m going to lose anyway.”
George Foreman suddenly struck my chest several times with his fist.
Though aged, his fists carried the vicious power of a former heavyweight champion.
Then he smiled and looked at me.
“Sung-guk, how did my fist feel?”
“George, give me a warning next time. It felt like a boulder crashing down.”
“Mike Tyson’s fists will probably be ten times worse than that. And there won’t be any warning when they come.”
[What? Ten times worse!]
My legs suddenly trembled.
Regardless, George Foreman suddenly put on his boxing gloves.
“George, what are you doing?”
“The person you’ll face tomorrow is a former heavyweight champion. So you need to spar with me today.”
“George….”
“Sung-guk, come up to the ring. You’ve learned plenty from me.”
[I’ve learned plenty! How to take a hit and survive! And how to run away fast!]
I stared at George Foreman climbing into the ring with an incredulous expression.
“Sung-guk, let’s do one final sparring match. I’ll go easy enough so you can fight tomorrow. Come on up.”
I loosened my neck, inserted my mouthpiece, and climbed into the ring.
At the same moment, George Foreman’s fist came flying.
I reflexively dodged George Foreman’s punch.
“Sung-guk, you’ve improved quite a bit?”
“This is all thanks to George.”
“Now, let’s not make any mistakes this time.”
“Come at me, George!”
* * *
“Sung-guk, I’d say you held your own pretty well….”
I had survived the three-round match against George Foreman by running around like a madman.
Of course, it was clear that George Foreman had gone easy on me.
I felt like I was dying, but George Foreman looked perfectly fine.
“George… you… you were… holding back… weren’t you?”
“I can’t mess up the face of a guy who has a match tomorrow. Sung-guk, you did well. Did you remember the movement patterns I showed you just now?”
“What do you mean?”
“I recently analyzed Mike Tyson’s movements from one of his matches. Most heavyweight fighters don’t move around much.”
Now that I thought about it, George Foreman had moved with deliberate, heavy slowness—quite different from his usual boxing style.
[So this is Mike Tyson’s style.]
Looking back, George Foreman had been continuously training me to get accustomed to Mike Tyson’s style rather than giving me detailed explanations.
“Sung-guk, from what I saw today, you should be able to last at least the first round. The rest is just about enduring.”
“George… even if I lose, I want to land at least one punch on Mike Tyson. Is there any way?”
“Hmm… Look for an opening in Mike Tyson’s defense.”
[I could say that much myself, you old man.]
I finished catching my breath.
“George, forget the vague advice. Teach me the core technique. Even if I lose tomorrow, I want to land one solid punch on Mike Tyson. I want to be remembered by Mike Tyson as Jeon Sung-guk—the guy who at least threw one punch at him.”
“Hmm… well then.”
George Foreman looked at me with a serious expression.
“So even if you really lose, you just need to land one punch?”
“Of course!”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————