Chapter 104
Chapter 104
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 104
Chapter Title: The Financial Supervisory Service is Watching
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After Yura spat her final curse—a venomous mix of contempt and resignation—and stormed out, a bizarre silence settled over the spacious president's office.
The view of Paju City beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows looked unrealistically serene.
From beneath the massive desk made of Italian marble, Choi Yang slithered into view.
She casually straightened her rumpled blouse, acting as if nothing had happened.
As if erasing every moment from the data logs, her face had slipped back into the perfect mask of "secretary mode."
I sprawled nearly flat in the luxury leather chair, muttering vacantly at the recessed ceiling lights.
"Social King Kim Cheolsu, Weapons King Kim Cheolsu, Railroad King Kim Cheolsu, Mining King Kim Cheolsu... Welfare King Kim Cheolsu... Tsk, isn't there anything fucking fun?"
Hard to believe those were words from this company's CEO.
Choi Yang in "secretary mode" breezily ignored my whining.
Faithful to her role, she tapped her tablet and briefed me on the next schedule.
Even in my tracksuit—which clashed horribly with the office's elegance—her voice didn't waver a bit.
"Lunch is scheduled with Dr. Kim Seulgi."
"Kim Seulgi?"
That name pulled my scattered thoughts into focus.
Silla Biotech. Blind loyalty.
And... full girlfriend mode.
Only those who've endured it know how overwhelming a 32-year-old noona's girlfriend mode can be.
That sticky gaze, like she was offering everything.
I reflexively started fishing for excuses.
"Don't I have anything else today?"
To my question, Choi Yang glanced at her tablet and replied mechanically.
"3 p.m., Heaven has an English kindergarten interview."
Tsk, decent excuse material... but the timing clashes with lunch.
It'd be too obvious a lie. Frowning, I asked again.
"Anything besides that?"
Choi Yang looked up from her tablet and stared at me blankly.
Her expression held no emotion, making it impossible to read her.
In a perfectly neutral tone, like stating a fact, she said,
"Run auto-hunt?"
"......"
This bitch, for real.
I let out a disbelieving scoff instead of answering.
No excuses to dodge Dr. Kim Seulgi, then.
"But why's that noona coming?"
"I told you yesterday—it's for the research budget settlement report."
It'd been about a month since we started investing in Silla Biotech.
Truth be told, the research wrapped up ages ago.
I just gave her that final hint in post-nut clarity after pounding her from behind.
The so-called "genius" Dr. Kim Seulgi nailed the miracle new drug in just two weeks.
What was left was straightforward.
Animal trials, paper publication, clinical approvals, legal processes, media circus, and a Nobel Prize.
Yet the lead researcher was dragging herself to my office for a one-month budget report?
Purpose was obvious.
Her pussy's itching...
Turning what seemed like a prim, innocent woman into a sex addict made my conscience prick—just a tiny bit.
No, wait...
She's only done it a few times, and she's already this fired up. Maybe she was born that way.
Anyway, overwhelming as hell, but I couldn't just ghost her.
With a sigh, I hauled myself up.
Dealing with this kind of "noona" was easier showing overwhelming "CEO" vibes than half-assing it.
I headed to the closet and pulled on a designer suit I never bothered with.
Hypocrisy's gross, but sometimes it's the handiest armor.
All prepped, I stepped out of the office toward the lunch spot.
"...Huh?"
A stranger—a woman I'd never seen—stood in front of the office door.
Her face was like Han Yura with the "efficiency" and "charisma" stripped out, replaced by "venom" and "sharpness."
Seemed around my age, dressed in a cheap-but-crisp suit, staring me down without flinching.
Impression as punchable as Han Yura's.
I bristled on instinct.
"Who are you? No solicitors."
She didn't bat an eye at my rudeness, opening with a businesslike tone.
"Financial Supervisory Service. You're CEO Kim Cheolsu, right?"
"...Fuck?"
"FSS."
Those three letters slammed into my brain like bullets.
The designer suit suddenly felt like a clown costume.
Forcing calm, I masked my voice's tremor and asked,
"Uh... so, who did you say?"
For stock traders, the scariest are two kinds.
One: National Tax Service, digging into money sources and slapping taxes.
The other: FSS, dissecting every trade.
One of the industry's dreaded top duo—tougher than prosecutors. My legs shook under the premium fabric.
Cold sweat trickled down my back.
"FSS Capital Markets Investigation Division, Investigator Park Sojin."
She stated it dryly, extending her hand.
I flinched but shook it reflexively.
Cold, firm grip.
Her suspicious gaze pierced my guilty face.
To escape the awkwardness, I overdid the gestures.
"Uh... um... it's humble, but have a seat."
Calling the lavish reception room "humble" made me pathetic.
Panicking, I yelled without dignity,
"Choi Yang!! Coffee here!!!"
Like a cheap real estate slumlord, not a hundreds-of-billions investment firm CEO.
To my shout, Choi Yang entered soon after.
She set two absurd items on the premium marble table.
Two steaming cups of instant mix coffee in cheap paper cups.
Payback for earlier humiliation, apparently.
I mentally devoured Choi Yang while forcing a smile. Park Sojin eyed the cup and my face, then silently picked it up.
Swallowing dryly, I cut to the chase.
"So, what brings the FSS...?"
Park Sojin sipped the instant coffee nonchalantly.
"Oh, nothing major."
She set the cup down, flashing what might've been a faint smile—for the first time.
But it held no warmth.
"Blue Sky Investment's records caught my interest."
Under her gaze, I swallowed and spat excuses.
"Uh... um, no problematic trades that I know of..."
'Manipulation? Never. My style's simple: trust post-nut clarity charts, buy low, sell high. That's it.'
Reaffirming my innocence(?) made my earlier freakout seem pathetic.
Why quake at the FSS name?
No crimes here.
Anger surged.
My legs stopped shaking; I glared at her, pissed as hell.
My expression shift didn't faze Park Sojin.
Still emotionless, she countered,
"Yes, no overt 'illegal' elements found."
She emphasized "illegal" subtly.
I felt brief relief—like, 'See? No biggie.'
But her next words shattered it.
"You profited several times on stocks suspected as manipulation plays. Intriguing part: you always entered mid-pump by the cabal, exiting just before the top with tidy gains."
"......"
"Like someone who knew the price flow from start to finish."
I bluffed within legal lines.
"That a crime? Riding manipulation waves for profit?"
Yeah, not illegal.
Just good luck, sharp instincts. Deny everything.
To my bold(?) question, Park Sojin shook her head—first time.
"No."
She conceded easily.
"Just... odd."
She set down her cup, leaning forward slightly.
Her voice dropped, laced with menace.
"Kim Cheolsu. 24. Until June last year, a guy renting monthly in a Siheung slum."
"......"
"How'd someone like that become a market-reading investment prodigy in just over half a year?"
I had no answer to her question.
Twenty-three-year-old slum renter to hundreds-of-billions CEO.
No way to explain the gap.
Taking my silence as affirmation, Park Sojin stood.
"Anyway, just curious what kind of guy you are, so I stopped by."
Curious? That's why she dissected my past and present?
Chills ran up my spine.
Heading for the door, she glanced back like she'd remembered something.
"Oh, and."
Her eyes sharpened to blades.
"Parking most profits in blue chips, reinvesting to keep asset 'bulk' looking small... clever ploy."
"......"
"But keep it up, and you'll piss off really 'scary' folks. Watch yourself."
"Scary folks."
Not FSS—chaebols.
I sat frozen.
Hand on the doorknob, she turned one last time before leaving.
Reading the fear on my face?
For the first time, her tone softened, reassuringly.
"Ah, no need to worry too much."
As relief washed over me, she continued.
"You're still just big enough for 'investigators' like me to care."
"........."
Fuck...
Was that concern? Or dismissing me as small fry?
Bam.
The door shut; she was gone.
I sat dazed for a while, no answer to that question in sight.