Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: The Apartment Hunt
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In the end, our cohabitation plan hit a snag right from the start.
The kid and our "business" just couldn't coexist in the same space.
After Yura's parting shot of "You idiot," we descended the steep stairs in silence.
Each step made the concrete creak, and the cold metal of the handrail bit into my palm.
As we emerged into the narrow alley, the muggy air and blaring car horns welcomed us.
The acrid stench of exhaust stung my nose, and the heat rising from the asphalt scorched my soles.
But strangely enough, it didn't feel bad at all.
We were heading to a world far removed from this godforsaken neighborhood.
How long had we walked?
Suddenly, rows of real estate offices lining the main street caught my eye.
Most looked rundown and cluttered, but one stood out for its neatness.
The glass windows were spotless, and the property photos were neatly arranged.
We stepped inside without hesitation.
A cool blast of air conditioning washed over our faces as the door opened.
"Welcome~"
A friendly middle-aged woman in glasses greeted us warmly.
She gave me and Yura a quick once-over, then flashed a kind smile and fired off her first question.
"Oh my, you two look perfect together. Newlyweds?"
The moment those words landed, Yura's face—which had been relatively calm until then—twisted in an instant.
Her lips quivered, and her eyes gleamed with a cold killer instinct, debating whether to off the lady or let her live.
Her fists clenched involuntarily, and her jaw muscles tightened like stone.
I had to stifle a laugh at her terrifying expression.
Before Yura could cause a scene, I jumped in.
"Uh, yeah... We're looking for a place."
At my words, the agent's eyes shifted to full-on "customer service" mode.
The earlier curiosity vanished, replaced by a professional, polite demeanor.
She guided us to the plush sofa inside and asked,
"What kind of place are you after? What's your budget range?"
I glanced at Yura.
She took over, laying out our requirements.
"Two-bedroom for now. Thinking officetel or new-build villa. We'd like to check both jeonse and monthly rent options."
"Ah, two-bedroom?"
The agent swiveled her monitor toward us.
"Clean two-bedroom officetels popping up in Siheung these days—jeonse runs about 200 to 250 million won. For monthly, deposit 2-3 million, rent 1 to 1.2 million a month."
She pointed at the screen, rattling off details.
Neat officetel photos filled the display.
"Villas are a bit cheaper, but for a solid new-build two-bedroom, jeonse around 180 million, or monthly with 2 million deposit and 800k rent."
180 million. 250 million.
A year ago, those were dream numbers I'd never touch in a lifetime.
Back then, I was scraping by on 350k monthly rent for my studio.
But after staring down 5.2 billion in my account, they were just tiny figures.
I gave a wry smile at the bizarre disconnect and asked Yura,
"What do you think? Should we just go for the priciest, best one here?"
Instead of answering, Yura closed her eyes briefly.
Her long lashes trembled faintly.
Some complex calculation was racing through her mind.
She bit her lip, deep in thought.
A moment later, she opened her eyes.
Leaning toward me, she whispered hot breath in my ear with a secretive proposal.
"Hey... Why don't we just buy a place? I'll chip in a bit... What do you say?"
Her bold idea needed no second thought from me.
The 1 billion I'd withdrawn?
It was meant for flexing on my new life from the get-go.
I nodded without a word.
Seeing my agreement, Yura's lips curved up slightly.
She leaned in again, adding her practical caveat in my ear.
"But joint ownership, got it? Shares based on what we put in—deal?"
I nodded again.
We were evolving from mere business partners to true co-owners of a home.
Deal sealed.
Yura turned to the agent—who'd been patiently waiting—with resolute eyes and declared,
Her voice no longer that of a humble renter hunting a cheap monthly lease.
It rang with the confidence and certainty of someone else entirely.
"Apartments, around 24 pyeong, for outright purchase. Got anything?"
Han Yura's words.
"Apartments, around 24 pyeong, for outright purchase. Got anything?"
The instant she heard it, the agent's eyes sharpened subtly but fiercely.
Her friendly smile evaporated.
In its place: the keen grin of a pro hunter scenting massive commission.
'Thought they were rookies patching a rent gap—turns out, real big fish!'
Her thoughts might as well have been written on her face.
She straightened up, her voice pitching up an octave.
Her demeanor turned far more courteous, far more enthusiastic.
Her fingers danced across the keyboard like a virtuoso.
"Of course! Absolutely. A few solid 24-pyeong units nearby lately. I'll show 'em cheapest first."
She spun the monitor our way.
Apartment complex photos flooded the screen.
Sleek exteriors and landscaping that impressed.
"First up, Greenville Park apartments. A bit older, but well-maintained—great for living. Cheapest on the market: 350 million won."
I couldn't help but chuckle.
A month ago, it'd have seemed an unreachable fortune; now, it was the "budget option."
"For newer builds, Lake View Castle by the lake park's nice. Killer views make it popular. 480 million."
She clicked through; the balcony overlooking the lake stood out.
Finally, the priciest.
"And the best in the area: The First Home. Brand new—less than a year old—hotel-level amenities. One just listed: 620 million."
620 million. Just over half the 1 billion lounging in my account.
That was the price of the city's "best home."
I glanced at Yura beside me. Same calm vibe as me, staring at the screen impassively.
No shock, no burden on her face.
Like checking soda prices at a convenience store.
We were becoming people unmoved by mere sums of money.
I smirked at the odd detachment and asked Yura,
"What do you think? Just grab the priciest, best one?"
She didn't answer my offhand question.
Eyes closed, brow furrowed in calculation, lost in thought.
But she was envisioning farther ahead than me.
Not just "buying"—another "investment."
A moment later, her eyes snapped open.
No trace of the naive young buyer.
She fixed the agent with a piercing stare.
The eyes of money ghost Han Yura: cold, business-savvy, zero tolerance for losses.
The agent flinched under the gaze.
"Ma'am."
Yura spoke. Her tone carried newfound steel.
"Of these three, which one's got the best resale profit down the line?"
The agent's warm smile froze at Yura's blunt query.
She stared, momentarily speechless.
'...Not just customers—real "whales"!'
Her eyes screamed it.
Pupils dilated faintly; throat bobbed.
Then, pro mode reactivated seamlessly.
Back straight, voice elevated with salesman zeal and conviction.
"Ma'am, you've got real vision. You can spot the money flow."
She leaned in close, voice dropping conspiratorially.
Like partners in crime.
"Honestly, the other two? Just 'homes.' Comfy, cozy. But The First Home..."
She jabbed at the last listing, voice hushed.
"...That's an 'asset.'"
Leaning on "unpublished" info, she spilled the area's development plans.
Excitement laced her words.
"Not even on the news yet... But the city’s greenlit a 'bio-industrial complex' right next to it. In three years, big corp labs move in? Prices here double easy—child's play."
Her eyes glittered with greed.
Fingers drummed the table rhythmically.
She wasn't just selling houses anymore.
She was an investor chasing max commission off our cash.
But Yura wasn't one to fold.
After hearing the pitch, she covered her mouth and whispered to me,
"You're in Post-Nut Clarity mode, right? Quick-search if she's legit."
I shook my head at her meticulousness and pulled out my phone.
Meanwhile, Yura flashed an uncharacteristically sweet smile at the agent.
"Ma'am, mind if we do a quick check?"
"Sure thing~ But it's insider info... Nothing solid online."
The agent smirked confidently.
Yura parried with her own sweet smile.
"We'll be the judge of that."
As the two traded veiled barbs under sugary smiles,
My brain hacked the city's databases via my phone like a data deluge.
City council dev plans.
Land use change apps. Corp investment intents.
Environmental impact reports. Local complaints log.
Fingers flew invisibly fast over the screen.
Thousands of data points cascaded into my eyes.
In Post-Nut Clarity, I processed it all like AI.
And from the flood, I fished one "truth."
'Site: Not "bio-industrial"—candidate for "designated waste facility." ...On indefinite hold, 5 years of resident backlash.'
I pocketed my phone and slowly looked up.
My emotionless eyes met Yura's anxious ones across the table... in midair.
I shook my head at her—subtly, almost imperceptibly.
That tiny gesture was her kill signal.
A hairline crack appeared in Yura's sweet smile.
But her poker face held firm. Voice still flawless honey.
"Thanks so much for the great listings, ma'am. We'll think it over and come back."
Picture-perfect business exit line.
We left the agent beaming obliviously behind us.
*Ding-a-ling.*
The glass door shut.
Instantly, Yura's sweetness vanished like a lie.
Her face flipped 180—mask off.
Back to her prickly, bitchy default.
"That fucking bitch, trying to scam us. Pisses me off..."
She hawked a loogie onto the street.
It sizzled dry on the hot asphalt.
Then, just like that, she pivoted to the next target.
"Hey. Let's check somewhere else."
I couldn't help but chuckle at her.
Perfect actress up front, raw self behind.
Weirdly charming.
This crazy bitch was the ultimate partner in every way.