Luxury Goods

Luxury goods.

A Leading Room.

It meant a group chat that supposedly pinpointed which stocks were about to rise.

Was there really something that good out there?

The idea of making money with ease was intoxicating.

Naturally, it was a scam.

If someone was handing out information that freely—

.

.

.

In the stock market, suspicion was always the first move.

Information was money. So if someone was just handing over something that precious?

It was far more reasonable to assume they had another agenda.

Had they been used?

The rational suspicion was only natural.

Community users were tearing into him, and the reputation he had built over time was collapsing in a heap.

The user running that Leading Room had no choice but to become a target of public condemnation.

Whether he had truly exploited the room or simply gotten unlucky and been wrong—it didn't matter either way.

The users who had lost their money had flipped completely.

It wasn't a matter of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a few bucks, so of course it was serious. They had trusted the axe, and it had buried itself in their own foot.

A pitiful affair. The kind of incident that could make the news.

But the community's reaction was flat. Because this was just another ordinary day.

They called it graduation.

When an investor took losses so severe they had to retire from the market entirely. They simply couldn't invest anymore. Their spirit had been broken first.

"That's why you gamble with a plan."

"What are you looking at?"

"The final fate of junk-stock investors."

He was scrolling through the Korean Stock Gallery's reactions on his phone.

There's a special flavor to rubbernecking at a house on fire.

It happened often enough in a bear market—investors who bought absurd junk stocks. Because those things actually rose sometimes, people got hooked. But once the downturn was over—

"Why would anyone buy junk stocks?"

"Right?"

"It's basically pure gambling."

"There are always guys who treat stocks like a casino."

Those junk stocks had no reason to go up. Why leave perfectly fine stocks alone?

That's why you trade differently depending on whether it's a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bull market, a sideways market, or a bear market.

Leader of the Dead Cat Bounce, apparently, hadn't managed that. He had put too much faith in a single method. If that method could make you money, it could lose you money too. That was how you learned in the stock market.

"I don't think I'll ever do stocks."

"Why."

"I want a more stable career path…"

"Then just be Oppa's secretary."

He wrapped an arm firmly around her shoulders, pulled her in, and kissed her.

Cherry. She had come wearing a delicious tint that practically begged to be tasted.

Smack!

But she had a temper. Suhyun, who had been nestled against his chest, shoved him away. She glared at him with a terrifying look and scrubbed her lips roughly with her wrist.

"I told you not to do this kind of thing!"

"Aw, come on~ It's just a kiss."

"I finally got things going well with my boyfriend…"

Her first time. After that, they had slept together several more times—and with each encounter, guilt had pooled heavier in one corner of her chest.

There's a saying that people who cheat end up treating their partner better.

She had felt sorry toward her boyfriend. She had treated him so well that their relationship had grown closer. That was why she had been avoiding meeting him lately. She was afraid of drifting apart from her boyfriend all over again.

"You just have to enjoy it."

"People's feelings aren't that simple, you know? I even came out today to tell you we should end this…"

"Oppa was going to buy you pretty clothes."

"What?"

A normal life. You only learned how precious it was once you had lost it. Even Suhyun, who had once dreamed of stepping off the path, was starting to think a little differently.

No. I'm never letting her go.

The water had already been spilled. A hole that had been opened didn't just close again. And he was not so free of greed that he would simply release a good woman.

As a date course, it was bare-bones. But what always mattered was the content.

"Anything you want to buy?"

"W-well, it's a little…"

"You've given Oppa so much. I should treat you once in a while too."

He draped an arm around her shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She disliked it—and yet she didn't bother to shrug him off.

What woman actually hates luxury goods?

The location was the location. This was the center of Korean consumption. Department-store shopping was every woman's favorite hobby. From the entrance, the place was packed. Even on a weekday, throngs of people filled the doors to capacity.

"I've never bought clothes somewhere like this…"

"Yeah?"

"It's kind ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of intimidating."

"You really think so?"

First-timers always felt small. Every department store she had been to before felt like a neighborhood supermarket by comparison. That was the scale of the place. But the way the world actually worked wasn't quite that simple.

They stepped into a famous brand boutique—the kind even people who knew nothing about luxury labels would recognize.

"Have you changed wallets recently?"

"No, I just use the one I have…"

"Pick something you like. Within reason."

People were streaming in and out nonstop. The staff didn't bother with every single customer. They only moved when someone looked like they were actually choosing something—then they approached with sharp instincts, hunting for a sale.

"I like this black one and the lighter brown tones…"

"You have an excellent eye, ma'am~ If you're a working professional I'd recommend the black, and if you're a student the lighter tones are more casual—"

"I'll take both."

In a department store, you could feel it—why this world had chosen the system called capitalism.

Things you knew and somehow still didn't know.

It hit you right in the face. The staff member who had been chattering away with burdensome enthusiasm shut her mouth in an instant.

"Pardon? Ma'am, what did you just…?"

"Wrap them up before I change my mind."

"Yes, of course, ma'am! Just one moment, please. One moment!"

The luxury boutique staff who had looked so high-nosed turned out to be a remarkably quick species. Because their pay was performance-based.

Suhyun could only stand there with her mouth hanging open, watching the whole sequence unfold.

"I haven't even chosen yet…"

"It's one of the two, right? Or not?"

"W-well, that's true, but—"

"Then just buy both. Why bother picking."

Each one cost at least a few hundred thousand won. For students, even looking at pieces like these was something to brag about. And he was sweeping them up for no reason other than that he felt like buying them.

Beep!

The payment went through. They went into shopping bags. She said nothing until they were outside the store.

"What next. Clothes? Or shoes?"

"Oppa, this."

"Hm?"

"Isn't this expensive…?"

It could be overwhelming. Luxury goods. Exactly as the words suggested, these were not things you casually threw on. They weren't a few bucks either. Even when you decided to buy one, you spent all day searching first.

And then there were people who didn't bother with that kind of hassle.

That was why places like this department store existed. Ordinary people had no idea why department stores were even there.

"Have you ever played an RPG?"

"On my phone, yeah."

"Do you know why they run free events and recruit users?"

"I don't know."

Countless people played RPGs. Game companies were extremely aggressive about recruiting players.

But from a game company's perspective, regular users were basically optional.

There was something called a BM—short for Business Model. The details differed from company to company, but the broad framework was the same. The top five percent of users accounted for the vast majority of total revenue. Put bluntly, regular users contributed nothing to sales.

"Really? Then why…"

"Why spend advertising money recruiting new users?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"You'll find out today."

Handling complaints was harder work. There was a reason game industry people sometimes blurted out the quiet part loud.

The context wasn't entirely missing. From a game company's point of view, you could see how they might feel that way.

But from the top five percent's perspective?

If there was one reason people poured money into a game, it was this: to show off to other people. And those other people, inside the game, meant the regular users.

Inside a department store—

"The people shopping…"

"Exactly. That swarming crowd exists so VIPs can enjoy the fun of shopping."

A department store's BM was similar to a game's. Countless people came to the department store, but the ones who actually carried most of the sales were—

The VIPs. The big spenders.

You had to make them spend money. How?

Human beings were never refined creatures. They spun gacha and bought items to feel superior. The exact same logic applied, intact, to the real world.

He was tasting the upper air of the capitalist world.