The sky in London was heavy, as if pressed down in gray light beneath thick clouds.
Fog faintly covered the car windows, and the damp wind seeped through the gaps in the buildings, so even the interior was not free from the chill.
In winter London, even the scenery was filled only with silence and cynicism as if it had closed its mouth.
Still, compared to the cold in Korea, this much was cute.
While Korea had already entered weather that went below zero, the UK was sowhat livable.
A private jet that flew from Korea arrived at Heathrow Airport.
I was still moving while riding in a wheelchair.
As a special lift descending from the private jet operated, my wheelchair slowly ca down to the ground.
I said I would walk down, but I followed as Choi Seo-jun insisted due to his stinging gaze.
Choi Seo-jun naturally pushed in the wheelchair.
Hong Jang-gun followed behind us.
"It is less cold than Seoul," Choi Seo-jun muttered, and I nodded and spoke.
"Compared to Korea's fierce cold wave, it is certainly livable."
We got into the waiting car.
Escort vehicles dispatched from the British Foreign Office surrounded us from the front and back.
Their orderly movent allowed one to guess their status.
As the vehicle departed, the streets of London gradually ca into view.
Grand Victorian-era buildings ford a modern harmony, creating a unique landscape.
As Tower Bridge crossing the Thas River appeared beyond the fog, Choi Seo-jun could not hide his admiration.
"It is indeed wonderful. History is felt everywhere."
Hong Jang-gun stared out the car window with his arms crossed and spat out words aningfully.
"That thing called history sotis becos a shackle that catches one's ankle."
At those words, everyone closed their mouths.
Passing the palace and entering Whitehall, the entrance to Downing Street was visible.
The motorcade stopped for a mont in front of the heavily guarded iron gate.
Ard police showed refined movents.
Only after going through thorough inspection procedures did we finally arrive in front of the Pri Minister's residence.
A black brick building in the Georgian style stood with dignity.
In front of the iconic black front door, the South Korean flag was hoisted alongside the British flag.
I got out of the car and scanned the exterior of the residence.
"It looks simple on the outside, but my heart is stirred thinking that thick decisions of world history were made inside here."
The door of the residence opened and the Pri Minister’s Chief of Staff welcod us with a polite smile.
The mont we entered the entrance hall where a red carpet was laid, tension and expectation crossed the faces of the three of us.
The walk toward a historic eting was beginning.
The sound of the wheelchair wheels rolling quietly on the carpet echoed clearly enough to be unfamiliar.
The interior of the residence was much wider and more refined than it appeared.
The wallpaper looked sowhat old with a gray tone, but the light of the luxurious-looking chandelier filled the space with a soft warmth.
The classical music flowing under it felt like an intention to blunt the tension.
The conference room, arrived at following the Chief of Staff's guidance, was a space completely cut off from the outside.
The interior, where a world map and the British and South Korean flags were hung, was a typical high-level diplomatic reception venue.
When we arrived, two n who were already waiting quietly rose from their seats.
One person was Harold Whitmore, the Pri Minister of the UK.
The other person was Sir Malcolm Ainsworth, the Minister of State for Trade and Investnt.
Pri Minister Whitmore wore a restrained smile.
On the outside, he was gentlemanly and dignified, but behind that, political calculations would be precisely laid out.
"Representative Lim, thank you for your hard work in coming a long way. How is winter in London?"
I bowed my head and greeted while sitting in the wheelchair.
"Thank you for the invitation. It is certainly less cold than Korea."
Pri Minister Whitmore nodded lightly and laughed.
"Even so, Britain's winter is on the damp side. I hope this weather is not unfamiliar to you."
I smiled softly.
My gaze was calm, but inside it was intricately intertwined with many thoughts.
Sir Malcolm Ainsworth carefully continued.
"Actually, since large-scale private-centered investnt is rare even within the UK, our expectations are quite high. Especially if it is HJ Partners led by Representative Lim, the ripple effect nationwide will be large."
I lightly unfolded the prepared docunts and nodded.
"I will do my best to live up to the expectations. Designing new infrastructure in a city where tradition and innovation coexist is both a challenge and an opportunity for us."
In the proposal placed on the table, the two pillars of port redevelopnt and expansion of electric vehicle infrastructure were briefly summarized.
Whitmore and Ainsworth slowly scanned the docunts and t each other's eyes.
At that mont, there was a scene that flashed through my mind.
Tara Steel, the largest steel company in the UK.
Until just a while ago, investnt discussions about this company were actively exchanged within the company.
It was also a card that shed with the strategy of PREZO, which aid for the European automobile market.
Special steel, and even a logistics network within Europe that was already completed.
Tara Steel was a gem that embraced both short-term profitability and mid-to-long-term business expansion.
But that was purely a superficial condition.
I rejected it flatly.
'Not now.'
No one could easily raise an objection to that judgnt.
I did not state the reason specifically, but so employees inside vaguely guessed.
That the UK was soon ahead of a major decision.
Once that decision becos a reality, industries with high export dependence like the steel industry can fall into structural instability in an instant.
I knew that possibility early on.
That is why I excluded Tara Steel.
And instead, I focused on the public infrastructure area, which had relatively less risk and high room for political negotiation.
I quietly withdrew my thoughts and turned my gaze to Pri Minister Whitmore.
"The business I ntioned is not simple construction, but will be able to change the flow of British cities for the next 10 years. Wouldn't that be reason enough for a partnership in itself?"
Whitmore slowly leaned back upon hearing those words.
Obvious interest was revealed in his gaze.
To the eyes of a politician looking ahead at his country's industry, politics, and the upcoming general election, this proposal was being felt with a weight that exceeded simple private investnt.
"Certainly, there is no reason for us to refuse such a grand proposal."
He interlocked his fingers and spoke aningfully.
"However, whenever such a bold proposal is made, I always beco curious about one thing. What is it that Representative Lim truly wants?"
The air that was flowing gently like classical music settled down.
Choi Seo-jun, Hong Jang-gun, and Minister of State Malcolm all fixed their gazes without a word.
I smiled while placing my hand on the desk.
"Please hand over Elina to Korea."
I did not beat around the bush and revealed the purpose for coming here.
Like a pebble breaking a calm ripple, it froze the air in the conference room in a single mont.
Pri Minister Whitmore adjusted his posture in an instant.
The wrinkles on his forehead deepened.
"...That is difficult."
His voice was firm.
The flexibility peculiar to politicians could not be found.
This ant there was not a thread of room.
But I did not back down.
I narrowed my eyes and asked again.
"Even if that person wants it?"
A very minute crack appeared in Whitmore's expression.
As if he were a person who had been unexpectedly stabbed in a vital point, his pupils shook cautiously.
He tried to open his mouth to refute sothing but closed it.
After that, he slowly turned his gaze and fixed it on the wall.
The mont where silence dwelled passed, and he finally opened his mouth.
"Elina is a citizen of my country, and I have an obligation to protect her. If I send her to Korea now, the national sentint, the press, and even the Royal Family will step out and criticize."
I smiled softly and continued.
"So doesn't that make it even more necessary to respect her choice?"
Whitmore almost let out a hollow laugh montarily.
He felt that a brat who knew nothing was talking.
Would Elina say she wants to go to Korea voluntarily?
Whitmore looked directly at with a confident expression.
The gaze of a veteran politician was dwelling there.
"Does she truly want to go to Korea?"
My voice did not have a sliver of shaking.
"Well, I will have to ask that directly. Elina is a person who can choose her own destiny."
In an instant, the Pri Minister's complexion changed.
It strangely scratched his pride.
Pri Minister Whitmore nodded and answered.
"Fine."
At that one word, the air in the room beca lighter.
Choi Seo-jun let out a sigh of relief, and Hong Jang-gun raised one corner of his mouth.
Minister Malcolm still withheld his words, but he too seed to have no particular thoughts.
Whitmore narrowed his eyes and said in a low voice.
"I will arrange a place so that you can communicate with Elina for a mont. However, you must not inflict harm or threaten her."
I laughed quietly.
"Of course. As expected, you are wise, Pri Minister. I will do as you said."
***
I moved sowhere thanks to the Pri Minister.
The exterior was a place that looked like a hotel, but inside was a special place made like a prison.
A tal door opened and Elina walked in wearing prison clothes along with two escorts.
A floor made of cold concrete, and when looking up, CCTV was attached in several places.
A space that would not be awkward even if called a prison.
Her complexion was very pale.
Her lips were parched and severely cracked.
I was with Choi Seo-jun while riding in a wheelchair.
I did not show any emotion while looking at Elina for the first ti.
"It’s a quite uncomfortable space."
Elina did not give any answer.
She maintained an expression with no inspiration while even avoiding my gaze.
Deep fatigue and resignation were dwelling there.
I slowly continued.
"Thanks to you, I have been to the threshold of the afterlife."
At those words, Elina slightly raised the corners of her mouth.
It was difficult to distinguish whether it was a sneer or a self-deprecating smile.
But she ultimately did not open her mouth.
I waited for a mont.
Then I took out my phone.
A video began to play inside the quiet room.
A little girl running excitedly on smooth grass.
The child laughed and even picked grass flowers.
In a yard a little distance away, a white-haired elderly couple sat leaning on each other's shoulders and looked at the child.
Inside the screen was as fresh and happy as warm sunlight.
It was like a peaceful scene.
I pushed that in front of Elina's face.
Pupils shaking minutely.
She tried hard to hide her expression, but the screen before her eyes was stripping off her mask.
"I will promise you. If you are with , I will protect you and your family no matter what price I pay. Nothing will be able to inflict harm on you. I swear on my na."
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