Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Under FSS Scrutiny
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The Financial Supervisory Service has me in their sights.
Dr. Kim Seulgi.
>That burdensome older sister, putting on a serious dating mode act toward a 24-year-old at the ripe age of 32.
>I'd given her loose pussy a solid pounding from behind and headed back to the office.
>To be honest, it was the worst.
>Her pussy skills were utter garbage compared to 20-year-old Choi Yang, despite her being 32. Halfway through, my dick nearly went limp on me.
>The only saving grace was "Bang" Seulgi squirting like a faucet every time I thrust into her, spasming like she was having a seizure. That somehow got me to the finish line.
>I couldn't even tell if that premium steak from lunch had gone in through my mouth or my nose.
>Right on cue, Post-Nut Clarity hit me the second we were done.
>But my head wasn't clearing up—instead, it was a tangled mess thinking about that FSS bitch, Park Sojin, who'd dropped by that morning.
>The moment I flung open the door to the president's office, I stripped off the luxury suit jacket and tie that had felt as suffocating as armor, tossing them carelessly onto the sofa.
"Haa... fuck."
>The Financial Supervisory Service, huh...
>Unlike the coin market, which prides itself on anonymity, I'd always known it'd eventually catch their eye in the traditional financial world, where every digital transaction is laid bare.
>But...
>Too fucking soon, wasn't it?
>Just like Investigator Park Sojin had said.
>In the traditional markets, an asset manager handling hundreds of billions... honestly...
>That's small fry level.
>So why already? What had them singling me out enough to send an investigator in person?
>Bribery?
>That was my first thought, but I shook my head right away.
>My trading was too damn "clean" for them to demand bribes. No colluding with illegal manipulation crews or using insider info—nothing shady like that.
>Just my near-prophetic Post-Nut Clarity. That was it.
>No matter how hard she shook down my accounts, she wouldn't find anything legally actionable.
>Tsk...
>But more importantly...
>[Scary People]
>That warning Park Sojin had dropped at the end.
>That was the key.
>I closed my eyes for a moment and reviewed my grand plan.
>My investment strategy was simple.
>Use insights from Post-Nut Clarity to snipe short-term trades, then plow 80%+ of the profits into Korea's top mega-cap stocks—the chaebol giants.
>Not chasing dividends, of course.
>This was like water droplets slowly eroding a rock, gathering into a stream, swelling into a river, and eventually becoming an ocean that swallows everything.
>Laying the groundwork, step by step.
>But...
>I rubbed my dry face and coldly reassessed the situation.
'At my current level, are the chaebols seriously going to step in over some punk hoarding their stock? Like, "Who the hell is this guy gunning for control?"'
>No way.
>I wasn't even close.
>My total assets barely topped 50 billion won.
>How many mega-corps were flying high in Korea, and how many subsidiaries under them? My money was dust compared to their tens or hundreds of trillions in market cap.
>I wasn't dumping everything into one stock. I was splitting my assets across multiple large-caps, buying shares in tiny, inconspicuous chunks to stay off the radar.
>Would chaebol heirs give a shit about a few hundred billion scattered across various companies?
>Ridiculous.
>So what the hell was it?
>Not bribery demands, not chaebol warnings.
>Why was the FSS zeroing in on small fry like me with such precision?
>My thoughts circled back to square one.
>And out of all the hypotheses, this inexplicable situation scared me the most.
>Let me recall what that woman said.
>Before the "scary people" bit, she'd definitely...
>Mentioned how I'd ridden the wave of manipulation stocks for profits and bailed.
'Like someone who knew the stock's flow from start to finish.'
>That was it.
>I'd been hyper-focused on the mega-caps I was accumulating.
>But that was my endgame. Park Sojin wasn't interested in that.
>What really piqued her curiosity was how I grew my seed money for those buys.
>My trading pattern, leeching off manipulation crews.
>Tsk...
>So were these "scary people" not the chaebols, but the "manipulation crews"?
>A chill ran down my spine.
>...Tsk, this is getting scary.
>The FSS or NTS operate within the law.
>But the gangsters backing manipulation crews? They don't give a fuck about laws.
>What if I get stabbed on the street?
>But why come here personally to spill all that?
>An FSS investigator whose job is busting insider traders...
>Warning a potential suspect like me, "Hey, you might piss off some real criminals" out of the kindness of her heart?
>Aren't those guys swamped?
>And do underlings like her even have time to visit investment firms in person?
>Don't they usually start with summons or document requests?
>Something's off.
>Her actions were too irregular, too personal for standard procedure.
>Like...
>A hunter pointing out every escape route to the prey, then watching their reaction for fun.
>Maybe proving the "illegality" of my trades wasn't her real goal.
>Suddenly, an old movie flashed through my mind.
>Some sleazy day trader who bites off more than he can chew on a manipulation stock, loses big, then ends up putting on all sorts of ass shows for the gangsters.
>In that flick, there was definitely...
>An inside man at the FSS colluding with the manipulation crew, I think...
>In that instant, all the scattered puzzle pieces snapped into one horrifying picture.
>Her unusual visit.
>Her freakishly detailed knowledge of my trading patterns.
>Even that shady warning probing me about chaebols and crews.
>Tsk...
>No way.
>Was one of those manipulation stocks I'd fleeced...
>Tied to that bitch?
>Blood drained from my body, turning ice cold.
>If that hypothesis was true, her visit wasn't an "investigation" or "warning."
>It was the "manipulation crew" coming to check the face of the thief who'd stolen their money.
"You sneaky bitch..."
>Suddenly, a nightmarish future unrolled before me like a panorama.
>One day, out of nowhere, hulking thugs with ugly mugs smash through the president's office door.
>They stuff me in a sack, kidnap me, and lock me in a windowless room.
>And in front of me? A single computer.
>They'll stab a knife into the desk beside me and threaten me to trade all day using Post-Nut Clarity...
>The birth of the perfect cash dispenser—no, a "money copier."
>That horrific future felt so damn plausible in my head.
>My legs trembled uncontrollably, and I desperately asked Choi Yang, the sole survivor in this office.
"...Hey, Choi Yang... you know how to fight at all?"
>My voice was pathetically shaky.
>At my desperate question, our secretary didn't even deem it worth a response. She kept her eyes glued to her tablet.
>She just scrolled through the next schedule with her finger.
>Like she hadn't even heard what I'd just said. Perfect ignore.
>In that icy silence, I realized I was totally alone in this hellish mess.
"Tsk, what the fuck do I do?"
>I could only count on myself, but this "me" had reflexes that'd lose to a 7-year-old.
>Couldn't beat gangsters with my one talent—my hip game.
>My brain was a whirlwind of hellish what-ifs, endless loops of unsolvable worries.
>That's when the president's office door opened, and Choi Yang poked her head in.
"President, 3 PM appointment. Time to head down."
>Oh, right. The sky.
>I stared blankly at Choi Yang, then stood up like a zombie.
>While I'd been agonizing, Haneul's English kindergarten interview time had arrived.
>I left the office without finding any answers.
>On the drive to the kindergarten, I just stared vacantly out the window.
>Chaewon was quizzing Haneul in the passenger seat: "What's apple in English?" prepping her for the interview.
>Haneul in the back answered in a super tense voice: "A, p, p, l, e!"
>Their peaceful chatter sounded like it was from another world, distant and unreal.
>The kindergarten we arrived at shortly after was flashier and bigger than I'd imagined.
>A building styled like a foreign castle, manicured lawns, and from the entrance, parents dripping in luxury brands.
>The suit I'd worn—like armor just minutes ago—felt shabby at the kindergarten gates.
>Did these people have the same worries? Coming for their kid's interview while fretting over FSS investigators scarier than the tax office, or even scarier thugs?
>Holding Chaewon and Haneul's hands as we entered, I felt like a total foreigner tossed into an alien world.
>Stepping into the flashy lobby, bright kiddie artwork and English signs hit my eyes.
>Neatly dressed kids and parents clustered in groups, waiting for their interview slots.
>Their faces mixed anticipation with a touch of nerves.
>But my mind was lost far away, wandering between Park Sojin in her black suit and those vicious gangsters.
"Daddy, you nervous?"
>Haneul looked up, grabbing my hand with her little one.
>I gazed down at her blankly and forced my lips into a grin.
"Uh-heh-heh... nervous?"
>At my incoherent reply, Chaewon grabbed my arm with a worried look.
"......You okay? You look pale..."
"Uh-heh-heh... yeah... fine... totally fine..."
>We followed the guide into a small interview room.
>Across the table sat a smiling foreign teacher and a Korean assistant, beaming warmly.
>Walls plastered with colorful ABCs and animal pics.
>The interview kicked off, the foreign teacher firing simple English questions at Haneul.
>"What's your name?" "How old are you?" "What's your favorite color?"
>Haneul answered clearly in English, but it all felt like some otherworldly tale to me.
>In my ears, instead of English words, echoed Park Sojin's cold voice: "You keep this up, and you might really piss off some 'scary' people."
"What do you think is Haneul's biggest strength, sir?"
>The Korean assistant's question snapped me; I stared at her blankly.
>Haneul's strengths? My head was full of how to hide my money, how to escape that bitch's clutches.
"Uh... uh-heh-heh... our Haneul's... super tough! Eats like a champ... uh-heh-heh..."
>My off-the-wall answer turned Chaewon's face white, and the interviewers couldn't hide their confusion.
>Haneul, clueless, just stared weirdly at her stepdad.
"And... her reflexes... she takes after me... uh-heh-heh... not great..."
>I trailed off with an awkward laugh.
>Thinking of my shitty reflexes—losing playground games to my 7-year-old—only made me chuckle more hollowly.
>The room filled with awkward air.
>I just grinned vacantly like a spaced-out idiot.