Chapter 67
Chapter 67
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: The Corporation, and Full-Time Employee Choi Yang
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Back when I lived in a rotten 200-square-foot studio in a slum, and now—I'd become a completely different person.
Back then, even buying a single cup of instant noodles took me three minutes of agonizing deliberation.
At the convenience store, I'd double- and triple-check the price tags, picking only the ones with discount stickers.
Now, I could casually mention 13.8 billion won and respond with perfect composure to a blunt proposition from a 20-year-old college girl.
Back then, to cover 300,000 won in monthly rent, I had to juggle three part-time gigs.
Dawn deliveries, afternoon café shifts, nighttime convenience store duty...
Sleep was a luxury I couldn't afford.
Even when I raked in nearly 4 million won a month, I was always broke because...
After subtracting 300,000 won for rent and 500,000 won for living expenses, I'd dump everything into investments and yell "Gains!" before blowing my seed money.
Occasionally, I'd torch the profits on booze and between the legs of love hotel pros.
No money?
I'd skip meals to save up for more coins, chasing that one big hit.
Score a little?
Call up Yura for a handjob—that was my pathetic life.
Now, I had billions I could blow through in a month if I wanted.
My daily part-time wage back then was less than a year's rent now.
Back then, I feared others' stares.
Worn-out clothes, threadbare shoes, my body reeking of the same instant ramen every day...
Everything embarrassed me; I wanted to hide it all.
Now, people depended on me.
Yura, Chaewon, Choi Yang...
They were all waiting for my decisions.
Back then, I had no concrete plans for the future.
Just surviving the day—that was it.
Tomorrow's food, next month's rent... my head was full of that alone.
Now, it was incorporation, tax savings, next investments...
I was in a position to make decisions worth tens of billions.
The biggest change was my confidence.
Back then, in conversations, I'd shrink back, read the room, gauge moods—that was habit.
Now, I didn't flinch at Choi Yang's bold proposition; I was enjoying it.
Money hadn't just changed my lifestyle.
My entire identity had transformed.
If it were the old me, I'd have bolted without looking back, yelling, "Whoa?! Virgin idol pussy? Jackpot!"
But not anymore.
Sure, the greed to get filthy rich off coins was still bubbling up,
but that desperate edge from before?
Nah, not really.
If Haneuli asked, "Uncle, can't we just play today without trading coins?" I could coolly pass on billions in opportunity cost.
The old me would've blown any 100,000-won profit straight on coins or hookers.
Teetering between survival and gambling—that desperate guy.
Now, even with 13.8 billion, I had the leisure to mull over Choi Yang's offer step by step.
I'd learned money wasn't everything.
>
With that leisure came a sharper eye for people, new standards for choices.
23 and 20.
Hardly any age gap, really.
But that small difference.
Was no reason not to lavish on Choi Yang the luxuries I'd never had.
"Hmm, you really thought this through before saying it?"
I asked, looking at her seriously.
What if someone had set me straight back then?
Stuffed in that 200-square-foot hole, ramen for every meal, obsessed with coins—if just one person had pulled me back...
Nights hopping love hotels, torching cash—if an adult had said, "Don't do it..."
I'd never gotten advice like that.
From the orphanage on, I decided everything alone, fucked up alone.
No one ever told me, "That's not it."
But now, I had the leisure and experience to give that advice.
I'd become someone who could bestow that elder wisdom—even if just three years older—on Choi Yang.
>
Money's greatest gift might've been the leisure to look out for others.
I felt proud, like I'd finally grown up.
"First times are precious. Judge it right. Think it through. Decide properly."
I said in a solemn tone, feeling like a life mentor.
"Hmm... Boss."
"Yeah, Choi Yang, what's on your mind?"
"You know this is super cringey, right?"
Choi Yang said with a deadpan face.
...This bitch?
Trolling me?
I froze for a second.
The mature vibe I'd just been channeling shattered instantly.
My face heated up with embarrassment. "Did I say something dumb?"
A 23-year-old lecturing a 20-year-old on life—must've looked ridiculous.
>
Choi Yang's cold gaze pierced right through me.
Like she was saying, "Know how cringey that was?"
"No way, I've seen how you treat your 'sisters' all this time... Why the sudden grown-up act? You crazy?"
She said with total sarcasm.
Damn...
Yeah, after all the wild shit I'd done openly, pretending to be all mature now?
Even I doubted my own sanity.
Flashes of how she'd seen me played like a montage.
Leashing Yura and Chaewon like dogs for walks,
Panic-naked at dawn, scrambling for clothes,
Getting busted using strawberries as an excuse for Haneuli...
What the hell was a 23-year-old doing cosplaying as a life guru?
My face burned as I fiddled with my coffee cup.
Utterly mortifying.
Her sharp, icy stare was dismantling me completely.
>
"First times are precious"—those words from seconds ago made me cringe hard.
Any cool oppa points I'd racked up? Gone.
Me, of all people, trying to play that role...
Self-reflecting, I blurted it out.
"Anyway, virgin pussy? Not really my thing. I like sluts like Yura. No value in a pussy that doesn't even know how to squeeze, skill-less and all."
"Huh?"
I grinned at her stunned face from the vibe shift and recited our team's official trading rules.
"Our team's rule is simple: Profits split by investment ratio. Say you put in 500. I pool it with our seed, we hit 1000% returns—you get 5,000. Less after taxes, but got it? My success fee is 10% locked in."
"So out of 5,000, I give you 500?"
"Yeah, taxes separate."
"Pretty straightforward?"
Up to here, yeah, simple.
Compared to funds that skim fees even on losses...
But the catch...
"Here's the problem, though."
>
I smiled meaningfully at her.
"Our team has this unique trading method. I told you last time why I always fuck Yura and Chaewon before trading, right?"
"Yeah, that weird Post-Nut Clarity thing."
She replied flatly.
Eyes screaming, "Here comes more bullshit?"
"Right, Post-Nut Clarity trading."
I said seriously.
"The issue is, it's real. I couldn't pull those returns solo. Only possible in Post-Nut Clarity state."
She narrowed her eyes at me.
"So?"
"So if you join our team..."
I continued slowly.
>
"If you want the investment returns, you gotta participate in the process."
"Pfft, liar. You're just scheming to bag a nerdy virgin ex-idol for free, right?"
She scoffed.
"Hey, scheming? Why would I do Yura and Chaewon? It's all necessity."
"They seemed to love it."
Oh yeah, those two's libidos had spiked lately—work sex and fun sex blurred together.
I always separated business from pleasure...
Women different?
Or had they leveled up to sex masters from all the practice...
Heh heh heh heh
Silly thoughts churning my brain.
Guess last night's awakened Post-Nut Clarity had worn off.
Stone-cold analysis moments ago, now flooded with dumb ideas.
"Anyway,"
I refocused.
"It's real. No Post-Nut Clarity, and I'm just your average 23-year-old. Like now."
She snorted and sipped her coffee.
>
"Believe it or not, that's the truth."
"Hmm, honestly not buying it... But anyway, sex gets me investment opportunities?"
"Kinda, but it's not the only way tied to sex."
"Oh?"
"See, me, Chaewon, Yura—we're setting up a corp. An investment firm."
"Become a client of Boss's firm?"
"Yeah, not finalized yet... Not like other firms skimming fees. We take 25% of profits only on success."
Regular firms have all sorts of fees.
Basic is management fees: 1-3% of assets yearly, win or lose.
100 million won? They snag 1-3 million annually, no matter what.
Then performance fees: 10-20% of profits.
Turn 100 mil into 200? They take 20 mil on the 100 mil gain.
Sales fees too: 1-3% upfront.
100 mil investment? Dock 3 mil, trade with 97.
Even redemption fees when withdrawing.
>
End result: Firms profit steady, clients win or lose.
Extreme case: Blow all client money, firm still banks management fees for years.
Compared to that, 25% only on profits is basically free.
No management, sales, or redemption fees.
Only a cut when we win.
Losses? Zero take.
Unlike regulars grabbing management anyway—this is pure performance-based.
100 mil for six months, no profit? We work free.
Regular firm? At least 1.5-3 mil management.
And 25% is just 5% over their typical 20% performance.
With no other fees? Overwhelmingly better.
>
For investors: Risk loss, but zero fee bleed.
Real skill showdown.
Whether she knew or not, Choi Yang frowned at "25%."
"25%? That's steep, no?"
She said, brow furrowed.
Clearly clueless on fee structures.
"Other places probably cheaper..."
Classic 20-year-old thinking.
Fees = just compare percentages.
Ignoring management, sales, redemption complexities—judging solely on 25% as "expensive."
I smiled, like I'd seen this coming.
>
"You don't know how investment firm fees work, do you?"
"What's that?"
"Regular firms take 1-3% management yearly, win or lose. Plus performance. We only 25% on profits."
"Oh... Then it's a steal?"
"That's what I'm saying."
"So, pay 25% fees, or do sex for 10%?"
"Yeah, boiled down. Hey, Choi Yang, smarter than your folks?"
"Trash talk only flies if you're good at it."
"Fair... But weren't you an idol?"
"Flopped, though."
"How'd you hone that insane shit-stirring skill? Amid dance and vocal practice?"
"Oh, that? Simple. Our group tanked over school violence rumors."
"Whoa? You're a delinquent?"
"Wouldn't even be unfair if true... Just bullshit nitpicking. Incitement, fabrications? Whatever. Shit-talking haters honed it naturally."
Hmm... That builds Choi Yang-level trolling skills?
Talent, probably.
>
I eyed her again, thinking.
For a 20-year-old, that cynicism and smarts weren't just from keyboard wars.