Chapter 810
Chapter 810
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 810
Chapter Title: Utopia (3)
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Manhattan's southern financial district.
The area more commonly known as Wall Street boasts the tallest and most luxurious skyscraper around.
Even as public opinion increasingly favored hedge funds with each passing day, it remained the dream company that anyone in finance yearned to greet.
That was the headquarters of AberSuperGreen (ESG), the world's largest investment bank by assets under management.
At the very top, on the 75th floor, lay the CEO's penthouse.
This was a place no one but Chairwoman Sharon and her select acquaintances could ever set foot in.
Once a year, visitation rights were auctioned off, with bidders shelling out billions just to pick her brain on investments.
Sitting in the penthouse office was none other than the world's richest woman, Sharon Super Rich Abergreen.
"Hoo."
Sharon, impeccably dressed in a suit, showed no trace of the poor girl who'd once slung convenience store shifts from a rooftop shack.
Instead, she exuded the honed ferocity of a master businesswoman—cold, calculating, and utterly ruthless.
It made sense. She'd built this colossal empire in under five years, through sheer skill alone.
She'd popped drugs to conquer sleep, devoured colleagues for results when needed.
In a jungle of beasts chasing nothing but performance, she'd seized success with pride—and it had transformed her into something else entirely.
"Nothing beats Häagen-Dazs for ice cream."
Gazing down at Wall Street's glittering vista while handling paperwork, Sharon elegantly scooped up her treat.
She'd had her office stocked with a fridge crammed full of Häagen-Dazs.
Filling one by flavor? That was the hallmark of true wealth.
"Mmm, so good, so good."
One pint of vanilla, one of strawberry—in the small tubs.
She plucked both at once and shoveled half of each with the dedicated Häagen-Dazs spoon.
"Ahh, ate too much. It's getting old."
-Clunk!
Without a second glance, she tossed the two half-eaten pints straight into the trash.
Luxury her past self couldn't have dreamed of.
"Back to work, I guess?"
Sharon settled back at her desk, arrayed with a quad-monitor setup perfect for charts.
But the moment she glanced at the screens, her breath caught for some reason.
Everything suddenly made no sense? The charts looked terrifying all of a sudden?
Hesitation to buy or sell alike?
Especially that "DOGE" in the corner—her hands and feet started shaking at the sight.
"Ugh... huh? What's wrong with me?"
Sharon clenched and unclenched her fists.
Just not her day, apparently.
Even geniuses hit slumps sometimes, right?
Then the intercom buzzed.
Her dedicated secretary.
[Ma'am, Countess Albreo has arrived.]
"Send her up."
[Yes, ma'am.]
Moments later, Countess Albreo ascended to Sharon's office, elegant in her jet-black dress.
The "black swan" of the Jemernai Countess duo, famed far and wide as a genius of investment and management.
Sharon herself had started out paying tuition to learn investment theory and business philosophy from her.
'Sharon! Is that really all you've got?'
'Do you even want to make money right now? Craving that rooftop life again? Pack your bags and get out!'
'You did your best? That's the nonsense I hate most. "Best" from losers who can't deliver is just excuses!'
'Repeat after me! Sharon Abergreen is trash who can't hedge risk!'
Albreo's merciless, spartan training had forged the Sharon of today.
"It's been a while, Countess."
Yet Sharon greeted her old mentor without rising from her seat.
Albreo, as if it were only natural, stood with hands politely clasped and a smile.
"Sharon. I trust you're well?"
"And you, Albreo? Eaten yet?"
"Not yet."
"Perfect. Let's talk over a meal."
Sharon pressed a button on the table, and staff rushed in to set the dining area.
A bearded French chef in a tall toque explained the evening's courses.
He owned four Michelin three-star restaurants, but Sharon had poached him with a fortune as her personal cook.
"Tonight's menu: chilled lobster squash stew and lightly frozen hairy crab sashimi.
Snow crab ceviche topped with herb oil and edible sprouts.
Coconut crab claw grilled with bisque from its own innards.
King crab basil pesto pasta with Hokkaido sea urchin.
And crayfish omelet, flesh flaked into cream.
Dessert is coffee and fruit."
"Sounds great as always. Serve it up."
Albreo's expression turned subtly amused as she heard the lineup.
"Sharon, you've always had a soft spot for crustaceans."
"Yup, snow crab's always snow-some good."
"Ohoho, such wit from you, Sharon."
Albreo dissolved into delighted laughter at Sharon's corny pun.
A little taste of power's perks.
"Truly, thank you."
Over pre-meal wine, Albreo bowed her head without warning.
"Thanks to your help, we fended off the takeover. Now we're turning the tables with our own acquisition."
"Glad to hear it. Witches gotta stick together, right?"
The Jemernai family firm had recently hit rough waters, targeted for buyout by rival Company A.
Sharon had jumped at Albreo's plea for aid.
She'd countered with a public tender offer on A, signaling her intent while seizing golden shares.
The brutal "Pac-Man" defense, fueled by Sharon's massive funding, succeeded handily.
"……."
Not many could accept such aid with pure joy—like a clear blue sky after rain.
Especially if it came from a former pupil now dominating the same industry.
Relations had cooled after Sharon's meteoric rise, but today Albreo was all deference.
A silent nod to Sharon's prowess.
"Sharon. I have something to say."
"Yes?"
"I apologize for my past rudeness. Might I... receive your guidance from here on? I've run companies for ages, but I've finally found a true mentor I can trust completely."
Sharon swelled with pride.
Feeling generous, she brushed off those bitter old whippings.
"Aw, water under the bridge. Let's keep crushing it together!"
"Sharon...!"
"Got a gift ready for your trip back—pass it to the twins too."
"So kind, so thoughtful...!"
After seeing the moved Albreo off, Sharon returned to her Wall Street view.
Was a chairwoman supposed to have this much downtime? Eh, whatever.
Instead, she pondered something she'd long itched to mull over.
"What is life...?"
The rich always said money didn't buy happiness.
Sharon used to want to scream, "Bullshit!"
But now rich herself, she wondered if true happiness lay beyond material things.
Was this the flavor of success?
-Ring ring!
The phone rang again.
This time, her personal cell.
Caller ID: My Love.
Her boyfriend, steadfast from her darkest days.
Wasn't this real love?
Truth be told, she'd been waiting for his call.
"Hey, Siu. What's up?"
She picked up, playing dumb.
[Sharon, what the hell is this?]
"Huh?"
[Came home, and there's a new car in the garage...?]
"Oh, forgot to mention. It's a gift—keys are in the study drawer."
Today marked eight years since they first met.
So Sharon had prepped a surprise for Siu.
The Bugatti La Abergreen Noir—a name longer than it was humble.
The price tag? Longer still.
27 billion won, taxes in.
A one-of-a-kind hypercar, custom-ordered by Sharon as a boyfriend gift.
Details fuzzy even to her, but the reclining seat turned it into bed-level comfort for lazy drives.
[…….]
"Siu, you crying?"
Siu, who'd joyrode the Bugatti Chiron from Witch Periwinkle whenever he could.
She remembered his hidden heartbreak when Della wrecked it.
So Sharon built him a dedicated garage and filled it with sports cars—a quiet hobby of hers.
[Thanks a ton, seriously... but I don't know if I deserve this.]
Her boyfriend, never taking gifts for granted, always fretting adorably.
Three syllables sufficed.
"Yes. You. Do."
2.
Linne, radiant in a vibrant yukata and geta sandals, sat on Hyangwolru's veranda gazing at the evening moon.
Beyond the low stone wall, the lively buzz of midsummer festivities drowned out the heat.
Today was matsuri day at Toh Shrine up the back mountain.
The sun hadn't fully set, yet crowds were already heading that way.
Festivals weren't Linne's usual scene.
Which made this one all the more thrilling.
Just sitting there had her heart pounding.
-Rustle.
Linne caught the sound behind her but couldn't turn right away.
Worried her elaborate hair might've mussed, or some flaw marred her look.
"Linne. Ready to head out?"
A sturdy hand gently stroked her back.
Only then did Linne cautiously turn and look up.
"Yes, Papa."
There stood the man she wanted to look prettiest for.
Shin Siu.