Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Manipulation, and the Comment Part-timer Choi Yang
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In the end, the attempt had failed.
The plan, perfectly conceived in post-nut clarity, hit a snag during execution.
Yura was great at transcribing and translating, but she lacked the ability to create stories from scratch.
Her knowledge of coins was still too shallow to begin with.
Beyond the obvious "overseas partnership planned" routine, she couldn't come up with anything concrete or persuasive.
Chaewon was the same.
Despite her blonde tattooed thug look, she was actually soft-hearted and had zero talent for stirring shit up.
She was the type who felt pangs of conscience about deceiving people or spreading lies.
I couldn't handle everything myself while focusing on chart movements.
It was physically impossible to nail buy/sell timings without missing a beat and simultaneously post across communities, leave comments, and spread rumors everywhere.
The plan was perfect, but we lacked the manpower to execute it.
Before post-nut clarity wore off, I hastily called an all-hands meeting.
If we couldn't solve this, we'd have to scrap the kimchi coin operation entirely.
First, I unloaded a barrage of insults on the two useless bitches.
It was playground time for Haneuli.
I had nothing to hold back for.
"You fucking worthless cunts, only good for your sloppy holes."
As soon as I let the abuse fly, Yura snapped back irritably.
"What the fuck? You'd be a loser if we didn't spread for you."
Yura's outburst had Chaewon nodding silently in agreement beside her.
But my post-nut clarity hadn't ended yet, and this wasn't the time for emotional responses.
Their pushback was within expected parameters.
Yura had a strong ego and didn't bend easily, while Chaewon was usually submissive but spoke up when teamed with Yura.
The issue wasn't emotional clashes—it was their genuine lack of skills.
No amount of yelling would suddenly level up their abilities.
The cold logic of post-nut clarity reorganized the situation.
"First off, you bitch Han Yura, you call this shit writing?"
I ran Yura's post through a translator and showed it to her.
Her role was simple: Create buzz overseas for a coin that's 99% Korean-held, making it seem like foreigners were interested.
The goal was to stir FOMO among domestic investors by faking overseas hype.
But the result was... fuck.
No bullshit was this tier of nonsense.
Her English lit undergrad status was a joke—awkward, unnatural phrasing everywhere.
Sentence structures screamed machine translation, and coin industry jargon was completely botched.
Worst of all, the content had zero persuasiveness.
Just repeating "This coin has great potential" with no specifics on why or any evidence.
Even outside post-nut clarity, this would've made anyone go, "What the hell?"
I switched targets, glaring at Chaewon.
The blonde fresh-tattooed thug bitch flinching under my stare was a sight to behold.
"Sigh, Yoon Chaewon... Can you just act your thug part for once... No, fuck... Why apologize while stirring shit? No flame wars? Just bulldoze through!!"
I checked her domestic community posts one by one—total disaster.
Thug exterior, but her writing screamed good samaritan.
"This coin seems decent~ Anyone know more?"
"Oh, sorry. I got it wrong."
"I'd love to hear others' opinions!"
All polite and courteous tones.
Any pushback, and she apologized and backed off, avoiding controversy.
This wasn't shit-stirring.
Just average user reviews.
Decision made: Neither bitch was cut out for psyops.
I stated the solution boldly.
"Bottom line: You're only useful for the 'taste' of your holes. Recruiting a third party member. Boom boom boom!"
That's the conclusion.
Tired of just you two; craving 'new' pussy.
Ideally talented at shit-stirring with 'English' vibes.
Half lust, half business—my bold demand earned a trash-staring glare from Han Yura.
"Thought you chilled out for a bit... This why?"
I nodded unapologetically.
Chaewon sighed deeply, trying to persuade.
"For Haneuli's sake, education-wise... How about a more decent type this time?"
...No, ma'am.
Visually, you're the least fitting for 'proper upbringing'?
Blonde, tattoo-covered, preaching education was ironic,
but I nodded, figuring a mom's heart works that way, logic or not.
Chaewon's concern had merit.
Bringing another woman into a home with Haneuli raised burdens.
Especially scenarios in front of the kid demanded caution.
But post-nut clarity's verdict was clear.
Screw all that.
Someone who gets my dick hard!!!
Even in post-nut clarity, my core couldn't be hidden.
No matter the strategy, a 23-year-old guy's urges won out.
Yura looked utterly done, Chaewon shook her head in resignation.
But the decision stood.
Realistically, the team needed fresh blood.
Someone for proper psyops, and honestly, new bedroom thrills.
Two birds, one stone.
Business and fun.
Problem: How to find her.
"So, any 20-year-olds around you? Face like Han Yura's level. Body like Yoon Chaewon's. Glasses-wearing model student type?"
My spec list left both women baffled.
Yura reacted first.
Subtly pleased her face was the benchmark, but still pissed overall.
Chaewon wore a complex expression at her body being referenced.
Praise or insult? Ambiguous.
But in post-nut clarity, my criteria were rational.
Face needed appeal to draw eyes; body for my satisfaction.
Glasses model student: Pure exterior hiding twisted charm potential.
Especially the age—tied to post-nut duration.
"I've dealt with pervy fuckers, but you're a thoroughbred pervert like no other."
Yura's jab? I owned it proudly.
"Our job demands my dick stays happy—unavoidable."
Even I nodded at my flawless logic.
Post-nut trading principle: Higher satisfaction extends clarity; longer clarity boosts returns.
My tastes directly linked to team profits.
Rare alignment of pleasure and business.
Yura grumbled but had no logical rebuttal.
Chaewon resigned too.
Months in, they grasped my quirk's mechanics.
Solution found, but...
Recruiting the third dragged.
Yura, money-obsessed loner, had networks as narrow as mine.
Even her dropout school called her outcast—not exaggeration.
Prickly personality meant few friends, mostly fellow weirdos.
Chaewon had 'connections' from years in the game, but Haneuli's psyche limited candidates.
Past colleagues might fit, but not kid-friendly.
Especially since she'd cut ties post our meet—new life as 'Haneuli's mom' first.
Reviving old links felt burdensome.
Realistically, paths blocked.
Still, I didn't abandon coin trading.
Op delayed indefinitely by manpower shortage, but I scalped quick bounces and volume spikes for profits.
7%, 5%, 4%, 12% gains padded the seed.
My assets: 3.7B to 4.84B won.
Yura: 540M to 710M won.
Chaewon: 100M to 130M won.
Team total: 4.3B to 5.68B won—over 1.3B growth.
Cumulative ~30% return.
Unsatisfying, though.
Compared to the mini bull 7-day war jumping 200M to 5.2B, this was pocket change.
After 2000%+ hauls, 30% bored me.
These scalps proved: Proper psyops + chart manip = massive gains.
But small scalps had limits.
Big money needed systematic ops, thus new blood essential.
Then, someone entered my view.
The convenience store clerk from my neighborhood.
Short bob haircut, glasses, model student vibe—freshly 20-ish...
~160cm, skinny, face full of irritation.
Different from Yura's snark.
Yura's prickly from pride; this girl radiated world-hating discontent.
Like everything pissed her off, slouched at the counter.
I recalled past visits.
Not friendly to customers, half-assed work.
Yet oddly memorable.
Most clerks fake cheer; she had none.
Hate showed raw.
Spotting her was chance.
My village: Heyri Art Village.
Late nights, tourists gone—eerie quiet.
Post-midnight, no customers even; prime slack job.
One late night, midnight munchies hit—I went for cup ramen.
That's when I saw it.
Insane finger speed, slamming phone, spewing toxic comments—inhuman keyboard warrior physique.
Alone behind counter, staring murderously, furiously tapping, muttering.
Sneaked close: Flame war in some community.
Reply speed insane.
Face? Body? Appetizing.
Not Yura/Chaewon ripeness, but fresh allure tempted.
Above all, brainless bullshit generator hands—pure berserker.
Keyboard warrior pinnacle.
Counter anything, refute first.
No logic, just emotional stomps—perfect.
Exact community shit-stirrer needed.
Ignores backlash, says her piece. No conscience apparent.
Focus unreal.
Customers? Quick glance, back to frenzy.
Deep in battle.
'That's the one.'
Shit-stir pro, warrior, 20yo freshness.
Perfect match.
Issue: Approach.