Byeong-jin and Lucas Ågren, mid-conversation, turned their eyes to where Seong-ho was pointing.

"Ah — you mean that?"

Ågren smiled as if he understood.

"It's rather large, isn't it?"

"Rather large doesn't begin to cover it."

Byeong-jin, evidently startled by its scale, let out an exclamation.

"Compared to that, the ones we have at Ilhyeon are like a child standing next to a grown man."

"Ha ha ha. There was no crane bigger than that when it was built, and there still isn't. It's the Goliath crane — the pride of Kockums, and of Malmö."

Seong-ho let the corner of his mouth curl up where no one could see it.

That's it.

The thing he had come looking for, the thing he wanted.

The thing that would make possible the contract everyone was shaking their heads over as impossible — it was that Goliath crane.

"It was our pride once. Now it's nothing but an albatross."

When Byeong-jin asked why, Ågren sighed and explained.

"When the company was thriving it was Kockums' pride, a symbol of the place. But now it's simply something we can't get rid of. Negotiations to sell the crane were underway right up until the company went under, but once it collapsed, even that became impossible."

"What does selling something have to do with the collapse?"

Ågren looked up at the Goliath crane, standing there in all its vast bulk.

"As you can see, it's so enormous that simply dismantling and moving it takes a considerable amount of manpower and money. Kockums had agreed to subsidize part of that cost as a condition of the contract, but once the company went bankrupt it couldn't raise the money, so the contract was automatically voided."

"That still seems strange. Regardless, the bank's liquidation process is underway now, isn't it? If the bank judged there was money in it, wouldn't that be a contract worth pursuing?"

At Byeong-jin's continued puzzlement, Ågren nodded in understanding.

"Of course we'd proceed if there were money in it. But from what we've determined… there isn't. The Danish company was put off by the…