Chapter 82
Chapter 82
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: THE SAGE
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The air in the 'business' space was thick and cloying, heavy with the mingled scents of the three women's bodies and my own lingering traces.
The bed was littered with the remnants of the fierce 'business' that had raged just moments before.
Han Yura, utterly spent and gasping for breath,
Yoon Chaewon gently stroking her back with a tender smile,
and Choi Yang staring blankly up at the ceiling mirror, as if it was all finally over.
The highest-grade offering ever crafted from the bodies of these three women.
Yura's asshole, Chaewon's shithole, and Choi Yang's pussy wipe to boot.
The cock that had devoured every carnal pleasure until just now dangled limply like a useless hunk of meat, numb and insensate.
Instead, it felt like every circuit in my brain was sparking to life.
All the noise of the world faded away, replaced by a massive torrent of information surging through my neural pathways—a sensation like tuning into the frequency of a god.
I rose from my spot, not sparing the women a single glance, and settled in front of the monitors in the trading room.
I pulled up the stock info window for Hyunseong Electronics.
Fundamentals? Financial statements? I don't know shit about that stuff.
To me, complex numbers and accounting jargon are just meaningless squiggles.
I've never been the type to study that crap and make money off it.
The Sage of Omaha, my role model with his wrinkled, shrewd face, left behind the famous adage: 'Invest in value.'
Value investing.
Just hearing it sounds healthy and steadfast.
In Korea, when it comes to value investing, nothing comes to mind but the big conglomerates.
The kind of stocks where impatient day traders stare at the screen all day just to see one number twitch in the order book—perfect for giving you cancer and killing you off.
Even a single tick barely budges...
Over 20 billion won in seed capital.
With this much money, even those sluggish mega-cap stocks could churn out plenty of profit.
Just 10% a year nets 2 billion.
No fancy analysis needed—just watch the charts, and with Post-Nut Clarity on my side, this was practically a guaranteed future.
But simple money isn't what I want.
I closed my eyes.
In the cold clarity of Post-Nut Clarity, a single scene sharpened into focus.
The glaring lights of a broadcast studio, cheesy subtitles like 'Grand Economic Prediction.'
There I was in the highest-end suit, legs crossed arrogantly, smirking confidently at the camera as I spouted off.
Yeah, that's what I really want.
Money? I've got plenty already.
Now I need 'recognition,' 'fame,' 'power.'
The whole world has to know I'm the god of the markets.
To make that happen, just parking cash in blue-chip stocks and watching it grow won't cut it.
I called out to Choi Yang, who was sitting on the living room sofa, handling work on her laptop.
"Choi Yang, how's our homepage coming along?"
At my words, Choi Yang—now fully switched into perfect secretary mode—checked her diary before replying.
"Ah, I'll call the agency and get back to you, boss."
"Sure. We've got plenty of time, so tell them to make it meticulous. Super high-class."
"Got it. But boss..."
"Yeah?"
Choi Yang hesitated for a moment, then asked with a look of utter incomprehension.
"That thing you mentioned... do we have to include it?"
"Yep."
I answered firmly.
Lunch: 5 million won. Dinner: 10 million won.
The fee for dining with Blue Sky Investment's CEO, Kim Cheolsu.
This would be the crown jewel of our company's homepage main page—the most important service offering.
Not even Yura, and certainly not Chaewon who rarely questioned my decisions, could stomach it. Even she called it 'prime crazy bastard material.'
But they don't get it.
Why a single lunch with the 'Sage of Omaha' fetches tens of billions.
People aren't paying for the investment tips from the meal—they're thrilled just by the fact that they 'ate with him.'
That's fame. That's power.
I can't let people think I'm just making money off stocks.
They need to believe my 'insight' and my 'time' itself is the money.
I was certain this absurd price tag would be the perfect cornerstone for the myth I was about to build.
I drove the point home to the baffled Choi Yang one more time.
"No exceptions. Put it front and center on the homepage, biggest font possible."
This slogan on the homepage would be the first brick in erecting my myth.
But a castle isn't built from one brick.
To give it legitimacy, I needed mythical returns—
an overwhelming event proving my 'prophecies' were divine revelations.
In the crystal clarity of Post-Nut Clarity, I began mapping the most efficient path.
First step: filtering. I applied the Sage of Omaha's teachings in my own way.
I redefined 'value' not as future growth potential, but as 'perfectly undervalued right now.'
In other words, screening for stocks whose prices were ridiculously low compared to their intrinsic worth due to market misunderstandings or neglect.
I started with technical filters.
One: Stock price had flatlined or declined meaningfully over the past three years.
Proof it was off the market's radar.
Two: Barely any trading volume. Untouched by institutions—pure and clean.
Three: High debt ratios and yearly losses on the books. 'Financial trash' no normal value investor would touch.
Out of thousands of stocks, these brutal filters whittled it down to about a hundred.
Mostly bio firms or tech ventures teetering on delisting.
Anyone with basic knowledge and some grunt work could do this much.
The real work started now.
I loaded the hundred-stock list on my monitor and sank my consciousness into the deepest depths of Post-Nut Clarity.
My ability kicked in, sensing the essence beyond the names of these seemingly dead companies.
Most radiated cold, faint auras of death.
But amid them, one stock tugged at every nerve with an uncanny 'offness.'
[Silla Biotech]
Surface data was abysmal. Stock price was scrap paper level, financials a total disaster.
But in my Post-Nut Clarity, this company pulsed with the faintest warmth amid the icy corpses—a subtle 'heartbeat.'
A vital thrum no one else could hear, detectable only by me.
I focused all my consciousness on 'Silla Biotech.'
The faint heartbeat's source began to emerge.
It wasn't macro data.
An underground lab in Pangyo. A single 'event' set to drop in days—one no media or institution knew about yet.
Phase 3 clinical success data for an Alzheimer's treatment.
To everyone else, it was rotting flesh. But I could see it:
This corpse was a latent dragon, poised to awaken and roar.
I grinned like a madman.
This wasn't mere informational edge. It was future prediction bordering on reality-warping, possible only in Post-Nut Clarity.
"Found it. My first myth."
What I saw wasn't just a stock price 'explosion.'
I saw it.
The new drug born in Silla Biotech's underground lab, saving the lives of Alzheimer's patients and their families worldwide.
The massive 'societal impact' it would unleash.
The stock price surge would just be a byproduct of that wave.
I'm not investing in money—I'm investing in the 'possibility' that changes humanity's future.
But scraping up floating shares with cash alone won't do.
As the first witness and patron of this great discovery, I need my 'story.'
I imagined the day I, the 'Sage of International Finance Road,' appeared on an economic broadcast.
To the anchor's question, "How did you discover the pearl in the dirt called Silla Biotech?" I couldn't just say, "My gut was good."
"I don't invest in money—I invest in value. When I visited Silla Biotech's lab back then, amid the outdated equipment, I saw the shining eyes of researchers who hadn't lost hope. I invested in their passion and dedication to humanity."
Yeah, I need a story like that.
My success has to be packaged not as supernatural prophecy, but as the fruit of 'keen insight and faith in value.'
I called Choi Yang immediately.
"Choi Yang."
"Yes, boss."
"Get ready for a field trip."
"Pardon? Right now?"
At the sudden order, Choi Yang shot back with a bored look.
I slipped on my jacket as I replied.
"Yeah, right now. Time to write the first page of my myth."
An hour later, we were speeding out of Paju toward Pangyo Techno Valley.
In the car, Choi Yang asked with a thoroughly puzzled expression.
"Boss, first page of a myth? Where the hell are we even going?"
"You'll see. Today marks the first on-site inspection of the 'great value investor Kim Cheolsu.'"
The car soon passed the flashy IT corporate towers and pulled up in front of a somewhat rundown knowledge industry center on the outskirts.
On the building's entrance directory, amid countless nameless firms, was a tiny entry: [Room 1103. Silla Biotech Co., Ltd.]
"Here... really?"
Choi Yang eyed the shabby building with open skepticism.
I flashed her a satisfied grin, like a director who'd nailed the perfect shot.
"Yep. Right here. Perfect. The 'great investor who unearthed a pearl from the mud.' What better image could there be?"
I strode toward the stage where my myth would begin, without a hint of hesitation.