Jackson Hole
Wyoming, USA.
Sora stepped off the plane and tilted her head, frowning at the scene around her.
"What is this place?"
"What do you mean, what is it? It's an airport."
"You're telling me this is an airport?"
There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. The place bore almost no resemblance to any airport she had ever seen.
Yeah. That's the kind of place this is.
Jackson Hole.
A mountain valley tucked between the Gros Ventre Range and the Tetons. Not even rural—just raw wilderness in every direction. The airport sat there alone, looking almost abandoned in the middle of nowhere.
"Whoa…"
"Pretty cool, right?"
"It's cool, sure, but why the hell is an airport stuck out here?"
"If this were Korea, it'd be a hundred percent for tax evasion."
America was just different. The country was so vast that flying was simply another everyday mode of transport.
How else would you even get out here without a plane?
The view stretched forever. At the far edge of the horizon rose snow-capped peaks that looked like something out of the Alps or Everest. Closer in, the open plains lay blanketed in snow for the season. Towering conifers drove home the fact that they were truly in a foreign country.
Vroom—
They climbed into an Uber and rolled out onto the road. It would take more than an hour before they reached anything that could reasonably be called a town.
"There's literally nothing but nature."
"It's the kind of place worth visiting at least once."
"I get that, but… did we really come all the way out here just to sightsee?"
"You're an investor and you don't know Jackson Hole?"
"?"
The scenery outside the window was the sort that could make any Korean who had spent their whole life in cities stop and stare. As a travel destination it was genuinely beautiful. At first glance that was all it seemed.
But for an investor, this is a place you absolutely have to know.
Once a year the world's central bank governors gathered here. Because they met in Jackson Hole, the event was simply called the Jackson Hole Meeting.
"Ah—the Jackson Hole Meeting!"
"So you do know it."
"Of course I do. Well… only from books, but still."
In a mountain valley like this, no less. Central bankers ranked it number one on the list of meetings they least wanted to attend.
Which is exactly why it has its advantages.
No shopping. No nightlife. And because the content of the discussions could never leak, their movements were tightly restricted.
"How is any of that a good thing?"
"From an investor's point of view."
"Ours?"
It was already a miserable trip. Flying more than ten hours only to be locked down on arrival was enough to sour anyone's mood.
Exactly.
What goes around comes around. In exchange for showing up, the governors of the world's central banks delivered the words the markets wanted to hear.
"Ah!"
"It's people doing the work, so that kind of give-and-take exists."
"Yeah… that actually makes sense."
Which was why August was usually a good month for stocks. At the very least, the Fed wasn't going to spring any surprises.
Not always, of course.
Jackson Hole expectations. Markets would rally on the optimistic assumption that the Fed would say something nice—and that very optimism sometimes provoked the Fed into doing the opposite.
He had thrown out the prepared speech and improvised a complete demolition on the spot. The result was a historic crash that wiped nearly thirty percent off the Nasdaq.
When you say something bad in a place where everyone expects something good…
The fallout doubles. The Jackson Hole Meeting was an event every investor had to keep burned into memory.
"So they're holding that Jackson Hole Meeting right now?"
"Powell's in charge, so of course it's August."
"That just sounded so boomer."
They weren't attending, of course. Outside of official delegates, even getting through the door was impossible.
I once snuck in and got dragged out. Not a pleasant memory.
The timing was always too sensitive for any real information gathering.
Screech—
Still, there was a reason they had come all the way to Jackson Hole. Something from the past had suddenly surfaced in his mind.
First, though, they arrived at the closest thing this backwater had to a town.
JACKSON HOLE & GREATER YELLOWSTONE VISITOR CENTER
The southern entrance to Yellowstone National Park. Being a tourist destination, it at least had a few amenities.
"Wow, it's gorgeous! It looks like a town straight out of a movie."
"Nice place to catch your breath."
A quiet, beautiful little city that felt like a modernized version of an old Western town.
I've got a soft spot for this place.
Back when he lived in the States he used to come here for vacations often enough that he still knew the layout by heart.
"You said you wanted to go a little wild, right?"
"I mean… I was in that kind of mood."
"Want to try something?"
"Huh?"
A perfect shop had just come into view—one that could give her a properly American, hip makeover.
Ding-a-ling~♪
They pushed open the door. The second Sora realized where they were, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Y-you want me to do this?"
"Totally normal in America."
"It's not normal in Korea!"
Travel fashion. Every country had its own style. Just like she had gone full gyaru in Japan.
In America, beach vibes sell.
A simple image change. And also insurance against any unexpected recognition.
"Someone might recognize you."
"Well… yeah, but—"
"Just close your eyes and do it."
"Does it have to be a tattoo?"
Tattoos. They transformed a person completely. On a woman the effect was especially devastating.
Makes her look like a hardcore Nidalee one-trick—like she could chuck spears all day.
That particular stereotype still ran strong in Korea.
"I said I don't want to!!"
"I want you to."
"Your taste is fucking insane."
"This is all experience."
He understood why Sora was scowling. That was exactly why she needed to try it at least once.
If not now, then when?
Land of freedom and equality. In America, a little ink on the skin didn't make anyone look at you funny.
"It'll fade in three to five days."
"What if it doesn't?"
"Then even better. Hot as hell."
"Hey."
It wasn't as if he was some tattoo enthusiast himself. Scratching up beautiful skin was usually a stupid idea.
But henna is fine.
Just an adult extension of those temporary balloon stickers kids used to slap on. Even sillier than couple tattoos.
Swoosh—
They could have done stickers, but this was a proper shop, so an artist painted everything freehand with a brush.
"Whoa…"
"Pretty, right?"
"It's prettier than I expected. But what does it mean?"
"Roughly… 'property of my cock.'"
"Fuck."
Lettering. Text as art. Written in elegant Latin cursive, so it looked refined on the surface.
The meaning, not so much.
It softened Sora's conservative streak by literally branding who owned this body. Lettering across her chest. A red rose on her hip. And the highlight right below her navel.
"Every spot is different."
"I put some thought into it."
"What's the meaning of the one on my stomach?"
"You could call it a warning label for investors."
"?"
A womb tattoo. Even in the tattoo-tolerant West, one glance told you everything you needed to know.
Get too close to a girl with one of those…
You might end up becoming a loyal customer of a certain brand of laundry detergent. Completely untrustworthy. It clashed hard with Sora's pure image—which only made the whole thing hotter.
"Eek."
"I want to fucking wreck you right now."
"Just because I got a little ink on me?!"
"It's hot."
Her porcelain-white skin now carried vivid drawings. Her makeup had been dialed up to match—bold and fierce.
Even the top girls in Gangnam would be calling her unnie.
She usually dressed down, but Sora's body and face were anything but ordinary. And now those full, striking breasts openly declared who they belonged to.
Ding-a-ling~♪
He left a generous tip and they stepped back outside. He felt like giving the artist a standing ovation.
"Do I seriously have to walk around like this?"
"Like what?"
"I might look cheap."
"I paid a fucking fortune for you."
"That's not the point!"
She had every right to complain. At a glance she did look a bit like a hostess from a high-end room salon.
They always seem to have at least one tattoo.
America wasn't any different. Passing pedestrians' eyes locked onto her.
Gulp.
At the same time they all seemed to realize the same thing: this was not a woman you could approach with pocket change.
"Everyone's staring so hard!"
"Because you're pretty."
"I swear I'm going to kill you one of these days."
"On the bed?"
"#$&@$@#!"
Still, men were men. A woman this fuckable was rare.
"Ah… ahh…"
He reached over and firmly cupped one of those marked breasts, then trailed his hand down to stroke the rose on her hip. A soft, lewd moan slipped out of her. Men on the street couldn't tear their eyes away.
Yep. Hard.
Several of the black-cock types Sora had a soft spot for were also watching. Pretty women transcended race and nationality.
"Don't I look like some slut who just sleeps around?"
"So what?"
"What do you mean so what?!"
"This is the whole point of going off the rails."
Things you couldn't do in everyday life. Indulging once in a while wasn't a crime.
My heart's pounding like crazy.
It hammered like a freshly caught fish. The kind of electric thrill you only got on a trip.
Sora was starting to get used to it too. The way men stared was stirring a strange excitement in her.
"Undo the button on your jeans too."
"Ohhh!"
"Let them hang lower on your hips—makes it even dirtier."
The rose stood out in full view. In truth those hips had only ever been used by him—childbearing hips, pure and untouched by anyone else. Every gust of wind flashed a little more of her stomach, teasing curiosity about what lay further inside.
They're all dying to try her out.
She deserved every stare she was getting. Just walking down the street she looked like she could boost the birth rate single-handedly.
"This…"
"Yeah?"
"The openness is kind of crazy. I might be getting a little turned on♡"
She was realizing it herself. Being watched like this was lighting up her masochistic side. Her face was flushed, her breathing growing quicker as if she were already half-drunk.
We're going to have a lot of fun with this.
The real reason for the trip. He had dressed it up with all kinds of excuses, but the biggest one was simple: he wanted to devour her thoroughly. To fuck the newly reinvented Sora as much as he wanted. That was why they had come all the way to America.
Ding-a-ling~♪
Of course, you never knew who you might run into. They had only stepped into a coffee shop to catch their breath for a moment.
"Sunbae—that guy!"
"I see him."
"He looks weirdly familiar… just my imagination, right?"
They weren't the only ones. Investors preferred quiet getaways, and this place was familiar territory.
I've been here before.
A memory from the past. He had crossed paths with this man once, right here in Jackson Hole. Back then he had already been retired, so it hadn't meant much.
Now the situation was different.
"Hello."
An old man offered a greeting that felt like it was about to drop the market by a full percent.