We trailed behind Maru like little ducklings. The entrance Maru had mentioned came into view. It was a small entrance, and a burly security guard stood there. To me, he looked like someone who could easily win a UFC match. In other words, he looked strong.
Places like apartments or officetels often have older security guards, but for VIP areas, they usually hire young and energetic people. Probably because security is the top priority. I can’t say for sure, though.
Maru was chatting with the guard. Jiyu, Yumi, and I just stood there watching. We knew better than to butt in, so we quietly observed Maru’s actions. The conversation seemed to go well, as the guard smiled and opened the door. Maru turned to us and said:
“Alright, let’s go, guys!”
“Okay!”
We listened to Maru really well. Maybe it’s because we’re in fourth grade now—we’ve developed some class. We don’t pull the same childish stunts as third graders. By fourth grade, you pretty much know everything. It’s a whole different vibe compared to the innocent third graders.
“Whoaaa…”
“This place is amazing!”
The hallway we entered was filled with luxurious interior decor. We walked around with our jaws dropped. Just the interior design of this hallway probably cost as much as a few apartments. But Maru didn’t seem too impressed. I heard Maru wasn’t rich—just an ordinary office worker. I whispered to Maru:
“Maru, are you okay? You seem so calm, just like last time!”
Maru crossed their arms and confidently replied:
“I came here for a preview before Hana arrived! Just in case there were any issues. That’s why I’m not surprised. I’ve been here before, you know.”
“Really?”
Now I understood why Maru wasn’t shocked by this VIP space. Come to think of it, Maru always plans things well in advance. Even when things are tight, Maru usually gives a heads-up at least three days prior. Except for that one time we went to Gangwon-do, Maru always lets us know about places we’re going to visit ahead of time.
We walked on a red-carpet-like floor and entered the VIP room. Inside, various skating shoes were displayed. At a glance, they looked different from the usual rental skates.
If this were a regular skate rental shop, the skates would probably be poorly maintained and worn out from so many people using them. But the skates here were different. They sparkled, clearly well taken care of. And the blades looked like they had just been sharpened—razor-sharp.
I don’t know what they use to sharpen the blades, but you could tell the person doing it was highly skilled. Maru spoke to us:
“Alright, kids, pick your skates! If you like a certain color, go for it. Try them on, and I’ll adjust them for you.”
“Okay!”
We started picking out our skates. I looked for a pair with an illustration of the little magician Lumi, like the ones I saw at the skating rink last time. But to my disappointment, there were no skates with Lumi’s illustration.
Actually, there were no skates with any anime characters on them at all. Just plain, solid-colored skates. Not that they were tacky or anything. I searched for a more masculine color. Jiyu and Yumi had already picked theirs and were trying them on while Maru adjusted the sizes. Watching them made me a bit anxious.
But then my eyes landed on a pair of pink skates. A color no guy would ever choose. What guy likes pink? Sure, some guys might like it, but I figured it was mostly for attention. I didn’t need that, so pink skates were unnecessary.
Yet, my instincts got the better of me. Unconsciously, I picked up the pink skates. My rationality lost the battle against my instincts.
“Hana! You chose those?”
Maru didn’t give me a chance to change my mind. I was stuck with the pink skates.
“Ugh…”
Maru grabbed my foot and started adjusting the skates. There was no escape now.
The entrance of the skating shoes was opened so I could slip my feet in. I couldn’t help but smile as I stuck my foot in. It wasn’t like I *wanted* to wear pink skating shoes or anything. It was just that Maru told me to try them on, so I did.
—
*Ring ring ring ring—*
The bell rang. Kim Sehee picked up her phone. This ringtone was reserved for family calls. She checked the screen—it was her third brother. She pressed the answer button.
“Hey, Sein oppa, what’s up?”
[Sehee, how are you doing?]
“Of course. These days, I’m just feeling alive every day, what else?”
And it wasn’t an exaggeration. Before meeting Hana, her life was just a boring loop. She had more money than she knew what to do with, and the company wasn’t even running properly. Kim Sehee had no real life goals. You could call it the boredom of the rich, I guess. But now, things were different. She had to work hard, even if it was just for Hana.
[Oh, really?]
They continued their casual sibling banter. There was none of that chaotic family drama you see in soap operas. The siblings had already divided everything fairly. In fact, they were cooperating to make Starlight Group even stronger, just as their parents had advised. So, Sehee often sent food to her brothers and sisters. The strawberries and watermelons Hana grew were too good not to share. She even sent some to athletes, or something like that.
[Sehee, actually, I called because I have a favor to ask…]
Kim Sein finally got to the point. He didn’t usually call without a reason, and this time, it wasn’t just for small talk.
The favor was simple. He wanted to know if they could film at the trendy Starlight Farm. It seemed like the public was curious about it. Of course, Starlight Farm was currently off-limits to outsiders due to the barriers being set up. But since they hired temporary workers for crop harvesting, it wouldn’t be too hard to get a peek inside if they wanted.
But if it were just that simple, Sein wouldn’t have called her directly. He’d have sent someone else to ask.
After Starlight Farm, he also asked about the ranch. Sehee gladly agreed. After all, running a farm or a ranch wasn’t much different from running any other business. They used the same machines, so as long as they kept the important stuff hidden, it was fine.
Like the original plant from Hana’s power and Hana’s abilities themselves. As long as those two things didn’t make it on air, Sehee was actually looking forward to it. It was a chance to introduce Starlight Food to the public. Sure, Starlight Food was already famous, but there’s no reason not to make it even more famous.
“Okay! Just let me know when the filming schedule is. We’ll prepare accordingly.”
[Thanks, Sehee!]
“It’s no big deal.”
Lately, broadcast stations were struggling in the era of individual content creators, so Sein oppa was actively expanding his business. He had taken over the broadcasting and media side of things, after all.
Sehee couldn’t help but ask, just in case.
“You’re not planning any devilish editing or anything, right?”
[Are you still mad about that prank from when we were kids?]
“Who was it that pulled that prank again?”
They say if a woman holds a grudge, it’ll snow in May.
And just like that, the filming schedule for Starlight Farm and the ranch was confirmed. The details would be handled by the lower-level staff. In a company like this, the boss only sets the big picture. The rest is handled behind the scenes.
