Chapter 290
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 290
Chapter Title: I Became the President of the Korean Alchemists Association
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I was lounging around in the master bedroom's king-sized bed after some fun with the ladies when my second older sister—who'd stepped out briefly for business—came back. She stripped off her glasses and clothes, going fully nude as she snuggled up to me and said,
"My beloved little brother Master, you should have about 500 billion won deposited into your account today. Check it out."
"500 billion? Wow..., that's insane."
"Why are you so surprised? You're the guy raking in 500 billion a day until the healing potion prices drop. It just took a week for the sales settlement to process. From now on, that kind of money will hit your account every single day."
According to my second older sister, I'd become a man earning 500 billion won a day.
It wasn't for nothing that the media had been buzzing with my name all day, every day.
The problem was that with so much money coming in, taxes—local ones included—would eat up nearly 50% at the top marginal rate.
I'd arranged something like a tax exemption perk, where a chunk of my taxes would be funneled back as research funding. But looking at it now, compared to what I was paying in taxes, it felt like a drop in the bucket—barely a scratch.
"...Damn. Earning 500 billion and losing half—250 billion—to taxes. This is nuts. No wonder people fear taxes. And those local taxes sneak up on you too, huh? Ah, so that's why the mayor called earlier, sucking up for a meal."
"That's why I told you to route it through a corporation and expense it. Who keeps that much cash as personal funds? I even explained the tax-saving methods, but you were so stubborn... Want to set up a corp now and save on taxes?"
"But then it's corporate money, not really mine. Doesn't sit right with me."
"...No, listen up. All the chaebols in Korea do it this way. Otherwise, you can't build wealth. Corps have lower rates and all sorts of perks. Plus, anything you spend gets treated as a business expense, slashing your taxes later. See?"
"Nah, I just don't like it. I'm making plenty anyway—might as well pay the taxes."
"Sigh... Fine, whatever. Do what you want. You're pulling in 500 billion a day, so go nuts."
"Yeah."
My second older sister shot me a look like she was boiling inside.
If I weren't her Master, she'd have probably smacked my head a hundred times. But what could she do? I was her Master.
If the tax money really bugs me that much, I can always set up a corp later... It's infinite money anyway, no need to rush.
Thanks to the near-endless potions I could pull from the Diablo world on the Tower's 8th floor, my income was an unfailing spring.
And though it had tapered off, I still had my underlings raiding jewelry stores in the Project Zombie World on the 1st floor for precious metals.
Not to mention all the other ways to make money overflowing at my fingertips.
At this point, I'd half-escaped the shackles of real-world finances...
"Sis, I whipped up a bunch more precious metals today. What should we do with them? Add to the pile here?"
"No, have the maids bag them up in sacks. ...But seriously, are you really making those? They mentioned some rings and necklaces with initials engraved sometimes... Hmm..."
My second older sister eyed me suspiciously.
She muttered to herself, saying something that hit too close to home: "Feels just like they're from another world..."
"...Ahem, there's a random element to what I make. I don't fully get it either. It's a skill I picked up by chance in the Tower."
I played the "I don't know either" card.
She gave me a deeply distrustful look, but since we were family and she loved me, she assured me she'd handled everything to protect me.
"Hmm... Anyway, to avoid any weird misunderstandings, I've told the staff to wipe off those engravings before selling."
"Ahem, good, good. Perfect."
"You're hiding something—it's all over your face. ...Is there a reason you're keeping it from me? Tell me when you can. I'll wait and trust you."
"...Uh, yeah..., sure, got it..."
Even with my second older sister—even family—it'd take some mental prep to admit I could zip in and out of the Tower in real time.
I'll tell her later. Way later. Once we've had a bunch of kids and life is rock-solid stable. Whisper it in her ear then? ...Though by that point, the family might already have figured it out.
As I got lost in thought, she came over and planted a couple of kisses on my cheek—smack, smack.
She told me not to stress and to talk when I felt ready.
But that just made me worry more.
Not wanting to pressure me, she deliberately switched topics.
"By the way, you know what's happening? Ever since we started flooding the market with healing potions, prices tanked right away. Domestically, they've dropped to a third."
"What? Already? Does that mean I can't make 500 billion a day anymore? You said it wasn't a big deal earlier."
"International prices haven't budged much yet. But we're hitting the market in waves, and word spreads fast, so yeah, prices fell. Globally, call it a 5% dip. We sell domestic and abroad, so we offload to the high bidders. Auctions mean a 5% drop barely scratches us."
"Hmm..., got it. ...But won't that make domestic and international prices way out of whack?"
"Do oil prices match between oil-rich countries and ones without a drop? Water's the same. Desert water vs. our water-abundant spot. No different here. Producer nations always trend cheaper overall."
"Makes sense."
"Still, since we're not price-gouging domestically vs. abroad, things'll even out over time. Right now, it's transitional panic selling, mixed with expectations that your output will keep driving Korean prices down."
Per my second older sister, Korea had skyrocketed to top healing potion producer—thanks to me.
All because I was an insane alchemist churning out 500 billion won worth daily at old prices.
Maybe that's why.
The next day, domestic alchemists came knocking.
"Haha... Nice to meet you. I'm Kim Jun-pyo, vice president of the Korean Alchemists Association."
"Vice president? Who's the president then?"
"...Well, I was president, but to install Grand Alchemist Park Seung-ho as president, I stepped down a notch. ...Ha, haha."
The elderly, grandfatherly alchemist fidgeted in front of me as we talked.
Basically, they wanted me to take the association presidency for the growth and prestige of Korean alchemists. I mulled it over since they begged so pitifully, and I agreed.
"Alright. I'll do it."
"...Then, President... This is the key issue... We need to discuss healing potion production volumes..."
"Yes, President. Domestic prices have plummeted, and it's hitting our livelihoods hard..."
They were decked out in pricey watches, gold necklaces, rings, and luxury foreign cars—yet whining about livelihoods was kinda funny. Anyway, their pitch was simple:
-'Let's cartel! You're flooding the market, and we're broke!' -
"...I'll think that over carefully. Not something to decide lightly. It's late—head out for today."
"Yes, sir. We trust you, President. Looking forward to working together. ...And if you get the chance, please share even a fragment of your supreme alchemical wisdom."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll see what I can do. Go on."
I sent the domestic alchemists off happy with promises to consider, then called a family meeting with my brain trust—the women of the house.
My second older sister, having watched the whole thing, didn't hold back her disdain.
"Approaching like that? The government's no fool—the Fair Trade Commission would spot it instantly. Don't."
"Got it, sis."
I immediately texted the domestic alchemists: no cartel.
I'd keep the presidency, but price-fixing was off-limits.
The grandpa who'd demoted himself to VP whined subtly for the seat back, but I ignored him.
Already handed it over—now they want it back? Once given, it's done.
He wasn't totally shameless; he didn't try to strong-arm it.
Per my sister, he was scared I'd retaliate using my influence.