A Story No One Knows Yet
Before we were ushered into the room amid the detailed talk of money, I casually tossed in one more remark.
"How about investing in foreign currency to grow the amount?"
Jong-hyuk's father paused, lost in thought for a moment, then picked up his phone and headed to his study. Only after confirming that did I step into Jong-hyuk's room.
I'd mentioned foreign currency to gauge just how much trust Jong-hyuk's father had built up in me—how far he'd be willing to go to help.
"Foreign currency?"
"Why foreign currency all of a sudden?"
"It's a safe asset."
"If it's safe assets, what about gold? Or foreign currency like the yen?"
"I'm not big on the yen. It's Japanese money, after all."
"Does money care about countries?"
"Money doesn't, but debtors do."
"What? Aren't we one of the top countries in Asia for developing economies? That's what I remember from class..."
"That's all built on debt. When the problem hits, you watch—they'll blame the citizens."
"No way... It's a civilian government, though... Dad even said things are good, with the construction boom."
The lottery winnings: first prize was 150 million won, second was 3 million. After taxes, considering the current economy, it was enough to buy a house and live comfortably.
But.
I can seize opportunities to grow my wealth easily through regression. Since I'm a minor and can't properly use this lottery money myself, if I use it to cover Kyung-soo's father's hospital bills and earn trust from my friends' parents and my mother, they'll believe in me even if I act exceptionally smart or bold in the future. This is an investment in intangibles. And Kyung-soo's father could die if treatment is delayed. That's something money can't buy—more important than money, in a way.
Even if you're living life over through regression, it's natural to feel greedy when there's unclaimed money right in front of you.
But I'd chosen to invest in creating the best possible backers who would trust and support my future actions over immediate gains.
And if I knew a friend's father might die and let greed stop me from acting... I'd be no different from my previous life.
I kept repeating that to myself, building my resolve, as Jong-hyuk and Kyung-soo's conversation shifted to other topics.
"But Joo-in, aren't you tempted?"
"Of course I am. I want a new house, and why not a nice car too?"
"A car? You can't even drive."
"The house makes sense, though. I wanna move."
"Honestly, I hated leaving near your place."
"You too?"
"What's with you two? Why?"
Jong-hyuk recoiled as Kyung-soo and I exchanged sly grins, like we shared some secret. He jumped up from his chair in disgust.
"Jong-hyuk's mom's cooking skills..."
"Her hands are huge—she always gives us tons."
"Honestly, Mom's so busy, our side dishes are basically just kimchi. But Jong-hyuk's mom makes all the banchan. It was a game-changer."
"I love escaping the semi-basement, but I get down sometimes thinking about her banchan. It's addictive."
"Jong-hyuk, you eat it every day—do you even get it?"
"Exactly."
Jong-hyuk plopped back down, looking exasperated at our wistful faces.
"If you want some, just come over anytime."
"Easier said than done. I'm busy too, dude."
Kyung-soo teamed up with me, spinning Jong-hyuk's desk chair like a ride at an amusement park.
"Stop... stop, I'm dizzy!"
Our rowdy noise must have woken Joo-shin, who was rubbing his eyes. We scolded him for it and escaped the cramped room to the alley outside.
"Did we wake Joo-shin?"
"He fell back asleep when we left the room."
"We used to run wild in these alleys with Jong-hyuk when we were little."
"He's still little."
"Did I ever tell you how Jong-hyuk jumped off the kimchi jar stand playing Superman?"
"What?"
"Ended up in a cast on his arm. Heh."
"You egged me on."
"I didn't think you'd actually jump."
The sunset filtering through the alleys felt like a red carpet lighting our path ahead.
No one said a word—we just started running, and soon we were all sprinting down the alley like it was a racetrack.
Am I on the right path?
It'd be nice if someone could tell me.
'Young friend, I hope you live without regrets.'
I could almost hear Dae-baek-gong's words echoing behind me.
Mun Jin-myeong mulled over his son Jong-hyuk's friend Joo-in's words as he entered his study with his phone.
He stared at one name in his call history, hesitating, then hit dial.
Ring, ring, ring.
The signal connected, and the other side picked up.
"Hello? Jin-myeong, you calling first? How've you been?"
"Fine."
"What brings the wind your way?"
"Got a question. You coming to the next gathering?"
"Me? I'm in self-reflection mode these days. Hard to show my face."
"What? Something we need to discuss in person?"
"Depends on your answer."
"Scary... real scary. So, what's the question?"
"The nation's foreign exchange reserves right now..."
"That's...!!"
"Can't say?"
"Let's talk tomorrow in person."
"Alright... where...?"
Mun Jin-myeong thought to himself: Jong-hyuk's new friend wasn't just sharp by instinct—whether he knew something or not, he was destined to be someone extraordinary.
As the chilly wind blew and night fell, Joo-shin and I headed home and drifted off to sleep.
Then.
The moment my mind blurred into sleep, I stood in a familiar space.
Clear valley water flowed as if immortals might frolic there, beside a cabin straight out of a painting. In front of it hunched a red-skinned elder with a flowing white beard, beckoning me over.
The babbling brook cleansed body and soul.
Dae-baek-gong?
Unable to comprehend, I froze in place, unable to move forward or back.
Isn't this only at the ancestral graves?
As if reading my thoughts, Dae-baek-gong—who'd seemed distant—appeared right before me.
"Young friend, good to see you."
"Dae-baek-gong? How..."
"This is your dream, young friend. The master of this house site is favorable to you, allowing us to meet here. The pure energy of this site suggests a most righteous scholar—one with strong neutral tendencies. Impressive company you've kept, young friend."
"Ah... so Jong-hyuk's father..."
"Indeed. He favors you."
"And your voice... it's..."
"Ah... In dreams, it transmits more clearly. Sending my true voice to the waking world consumes much earth energy in dissipation. But dream apparitions carry the voice intact."
"Ah..."
"I manifest in your dream because sharing your singularity reward with others has amplified it greatly. This has triggered an event pivotal enough to be a turning point in your life."
"Then..."
"Yes, additional reward. But time is limited—I had to rush."
"What?"
"Rewards from singularities affect the present world without karmic backlash, so I seek things you'll like. This time, perfect timing aligned, so I sought your dream urgently."
"So..."
"Off the An-nam Mountain trail, follow an abandoned field path to a disused well. Choose one of the ten ropes hanging there. Time runs until tomorrow. But as a student, effectively today. Given the urgency, I've cast a spell to lend you strength. It'll help. Note it fades with time."
A green-glowing light swirled around me, absorbing into my body. My mind sharpened, thoughts raced.
This... my strength feels multiplied?
"Can't this spell be used without limit?"
"It draws out your body's latent power all at once. Unlimited use would shatter your foundation, ruining your body. Your enhanced physique allows even brief use."
"Ah..."
"Excess is as harmful as deficiency... a law of the world."
"So I must choose just one of the ten ropes?"
"Whichever you pick is yours. But..."
As Dae-baek-gong's voice faded, I bolted upright, shouting desperately.
"Thank you! Thank you, elder!"
"Heh heh..."
His laughter jolted me awake. Joo-shin's steady breathing reminded me we were in our tiny one-room.
I slipped past Mother's bedding in the kitchen-living room, easing open the front door.
Screeech.
The old door's creak sent chills down my spine, fearing I'd wake the family. But Mother slept soundly, exhausted from pondering my sudden words earlier.
I slung an empty schoolbag over my shoulder—no textbooks or supplies—grabbed work gloves and a flashlight, and headed out.
Luckily, my middle and high school bags were backpack-sized for hauling books, so whatever I found would fit.
An-nam City nestled in a basin; step just beyond the residential areas, and mountains loomed. One trail etched itself in my mind.
Dae-baek-gong's power?
My head mapped decades of paths like I'd walked them forever, though this trail was new. I climbed without hesitation.
From home to the distant trailhead—on foot, no bus or taxi... sprinting, really. Normally impossible, but the spell let me run nearly an hour without panting.
Incredible...
Up the mountain like a gazelle, toward the spot. Footprints thinned, eerie quiet descended. Midnight hush, moonlit sky signaling rest for all.
Rustle. Crunch.
Shattering the heavy silence, I charged the target.
It's really here...
Exactly ten weathered ropes dangled from the well, as described.
If one was my reward, weren't the others valuable too? Curiosity piqued, I hefted each.
Even enhanced, some were a struggle alone. I yanked the heaviest with all my might.
Friction scraped the well wall as I hauled it up laboriously.
This is...
A burlap sack clung to the end—rare these days.
Thud.
The massive weight hit the ground, startling me. I scanned the empty darkness.
The sack and rope were knotted impossibly tight—no knife or scissors would cut it.
The frayed bottom from friction looked tearable. Gripping threads, I ripped sideways.
Gasp.
Endless bundles of bills spilled out.
How much is this?
Eyeballing stacks of 10,000-won notes, I packed my bag.
Over 200 bundles, easy?
Bag full, I stuffed extras in my jacket pockets.
I eyed the rest but returned the torn-bottom sack to its spot, then backtracked, scuffing footprints to the trail.
Trail's full of prints—no tracing mine.
Abandoned sack in a remote well with cash? Dirty money someone wouldn't claim. Taking it could make me a target.
But Dae-baek-gong called it reward—one of ten fine choices.
In haste, I assumed heaviest meant cash. Lighter ones might hold gems or bearer bonds—bigger value.
I chose cash, tore the sack unnaturally—but with the spell, plausibly from friction.
Old well, still some water at bottom. They might think the heavy cash sack burst on retrieval, dumping it in.
That's why the time limit.
The sack had weakened against the walls. Enhanced or not, it tore naturally, not brute-forced.
Lighter in spirit, heavier in bag, I hurried home under dawning red skies.
Just before our alley, passing the red brick house—someone sat slumped desolately out front.