Chapter 68
Chapter 68
Translation: Godtl
"Wow... $700."
"If you went all-in at $300, you'd already have more than doubled your money."
"This is insane. Isn't this madness?"
The number of Bitcoins mined so far was 15 million.
The total supply was capped at 21 million.
"So only 6 million are left?"
"Yeah. But they say it'll take until at least 2140 to mine the rest."
"Gasp. That long? Even though only 6 million are left?"
"It's because of the halving mechanism. The more that gets mined, the slower the rate becomes."
At first, even the employees were full of skepticism toward Bitcoin.
But upon closer inspection, the system was surprisingly well-designed.
To preserve scarcity and prevent inflation, the total supply was capped at 21 million, and the halving mechanism ensured that the supply wouldn't flood the market all at once.
Moreover, Bitcoin's blockchain system was built to be impenetrable to hackers.
Though there were occasional stories of exchanges getting hacked and Bitcoin being stolen, that wasn't due to Bitcoin itself being hacked—it was because the exchange's vault was breached.
In other words, as long as the exchange's security was airtight, Bitcoin was safe.
"Plus, even though 15 million have been mined, only about 7 million are actually circulating in the market."
The number of Bitcoins in active circulation was much lower than expected.
Some people held onto them long-term, and many others had mined them long ago only to forget about them or lose their private keys, leaving them stuck in limbo.
"Remember how nervous the employees were when the exchange first opened? They kept saying we'd shut down in no time and everyone would get fired."
After KW Exchange launched—
On the first day, the number of new sign-ups was a mere 100.
The KW Exchange employees trembled in fear.
They weren't even sure if they'd get their salaries, let alone cover the server costs.
But then, as currency reforms began in India and other countries, the situation changed.
Currencies that had been used for black money either lost value or were outright banned, forcing those who managed illicit funds to seek new alternatives.
And Bitcoin became their target.
Ironically, the crackdown on black money had only driven it deeper underground.
But there was one thing even the black money handlers hadn't predicted.
As dirty money poured into Bitcoin, its price naturally rose—and that became the spark for the Bitcoin boom.
"But Bitcoin... It'll easily break $1,000, right?"
"$1,000? That's nothing. Look at the trading volume right now. It's insane. And KW Exchange has already surpassed 1 million users."
KW Exchange, which had struggled to attract new users and traders, was now flooded with so much traffic that the servers were at risk of crashing.
"But did the CEO see this coming?"
"Of course. Even before launching the exchange, he told us to prepare as many servers as possible. That's why we're stable even with 1 million users pouring in all at once."
The sudden Bitcoin frenzy had everyone rushing to exchanges.
But most couldn't handle the surge in demand, and their servers collapsed.
KW Exchange, however, had built a robust server infrastructure from the start, so it had no issues.
That was why it gained so many new users in such a short time.
"And that's not all. We partnered with overseas exchanges, so right now, no one else in the country offers as many coins as we do."
What made KW Exchange stand out was its vast selection of coins, far surpassing its competitors.
"Ugh... Should I buy some now?"
"You can't. The CEO already issued a directive. Employees of our group are absolutely forbidden from buying Bitcoin."
On the surface, Bitcoin exchanges seemed like the Wild West.
But opening one required navigating a complex approval process.
Moreover, since internal employees could potentially manipulate prices using the exchange, all related personnel were strictly prohibited from purchasing Bitcoin.
That was one of the terms that came with opening the exchange.
"But if the Chairman anticipated Bitcoin would rise like this, wouldn't it have been better to go all-in on Bitcoin instead of opening an exchange?"
"Well, he must have had his reasons. For one, before Bitcoin surged to this extent, the market volume wasn't that large. It's not even a market that could handle a trillion won easily."
Though the Bitcoin market was rapidly expanding, even now, it was still difficult to absorb a trillion won. However, if you included altcoins alongside Bitcoin, the story changed.
"If we had gone all-in on Bitcoin and altcoins, the prices might not have risen as sharply as they are now."
"That's a fair point."
"And how could people like us ever fathom the Chairman's intentions? He must have seen something we couldn't. Just look at it now. We're not even doing anything, yet the exchange is raking in fees like crazy. And we only invested 100 billion won to begin with."
Employees who had been trembling at the thought of the exchange shutting down during its initial launch were now working frantically.
In fact, there was even talk of hiring additional staff at this point.
At this rate, the initial investment would likely be recouped soon.
"But other securities firms are saying the Bitcoin craze is fiercer than expected, and they're pouring all their money into it now."
"Honestly, aside from our Gwangun, wouldn't all the other securities firms already be in?"
Securities firms that had caught the scent of money had already started funneling funds into Bitcoin.
Asset management companies were also rolling out products to ride this trend.
But Gwangun, having opened an exchange, was completely barred from any related products or investments.
While other securities firms were continuously creating Bitcoin-based products, Gwangun was left unable to do anything.
"Tsk. Like I said earlier, the Chairman has his reasons. Us mere mortals wouldn't understand even if we died and came back to life, you know?"
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"..."
It hurt.
His stomach hurt.
Bitcoin, which had once dropped to $300, had now surged past $700 and finally reached $1,000.
At this rate, it looked like it could easily hit $2,000.
And with Bitcoin, the market leader, rising, the altcoins beneath it were also climbing.
So, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret.
Maybe he should have invested in Bitcoin instead of opening an exchange.
Even if the market had been too small back then to pour in large sums.
But at the time, his instincts hadn't reacted to the idea of buying Bitcoin.
So, he hadn't.
Because of that, while all other investment firms were dipping their toes into Bitcoin, only our Gwangun was left out.
But those regrets were short-lived.
"Chairman! H-have you seen the news?!"
Employees were crowding into the chairman's office.
"Yes. I'm looking at it now."
[The market is excessively overheated, with prices differing by as much as 20-30% compared to overseas markets. Due to this, financial regulations are deemed necessary to protect investors and stabilize the market.]
Currently, the price of Bitcoin on our KW Exchange was a staggering 30% higher than overseas prices.
The so-called Kimchi Premium.
On top of that, the government wasn't just sitting idly by while excessive money flooded into Bitcoin and black money concentrated there.
[Going forward, cryptocurrency transactions will require a real-name verified deposit and withdrawal account system. Virtual accounts will be banned, and minors and foreigners will also be prohibited from trading. Additionally, a full-scale tax audit will be conducted on virtual currency exchanges.]
Up to this point, it was actually fine.
What could they possibly dig up in a tax audit of a place that had just opened?
The next part was the problem.
[Furthermore, all cryptocurrency transactions by domestic financial companies will be suspended simultaneously.]
This was the killing blow.
They had outright banned any involvement by domestic securities firms or asset management companies in a market that lacked even the most basic safeguards.
"What's the market situation right now?"
"Everyone's in a panic. The announcement came out of nowhere without any warning. Financial institutions that have money tied up in Bitcoin are all forced to dump their holdings now. They're pushing back, but the government's stance is firm at the moment."
The Bitcoin craze had been a major point of controversy in Korea too.
Was it really acceptable to treat this virtual currency—with no financial safeguards—as a legitimate financial product? Or should it be viewed as a scam?
There were loud voices arguing that financial regulations were absolutely necessary.
So everyone had expected the government to step in with regulations at some point—but no one anticipated they'd clamp down this abruptly.
On top of that, Bitcoin futures trading was now completely banned.
Leveraged shorting was also off the table.
The regulations essentially forced everyone to go long—no other options.
"The price has already dropped 20%. The Kimchi Premium that was attached to it will probably vanish completely after this."
"No way. They're actually normalizing it like this."
"But if they block shorting, won't we take a hit too? Like, what if people just start using overseas exchanges instead...?"
There would likely be some dropouts.
But using overseas exchanges instead of the officially permitted KRW markets in Korea was a huge hassle.
And leveraged shorting was practically a one-way ticket to the Han River—a gamble so risky that it was better not to dip even a toe in unless you were prepared.
"Well, with this, Bitcoin hitting $2,000 is out of the question now."
"Who knows? Even if the Kimchi Premium disappears, trading is still active overseas."
"Not just Korea—I heard other countries are about to impose Bitcoin regulations too. Won't that put the brakes on the price?"
"Ugh. This is bad. Then our exchange will just be a flash in the pan—another place where only flies buzz around."
That was a bit concerning.
Korea was hypersensitive when it came to finance, so even if they rushed out regulations in a panic, other countries were just as likely to follow suit.
Because everyone knew Bitcoin was a magnet for black money.
Meaning, the Bitcoin that had just broken past $1,000 could easily crash back to $100 at any moment. And if that happened, our exchange—which had been thriving—could easily end up in a state where even server costs couldn't be covered.
"Boss, what do you think is the fair price for Bitcoin?"
The employees all turned to look at me at once.
"I think..."
Honestly, in my personal opinion, even $1,000 was an absurdly high price.
But one thing I'd learned from living in this world was that prices often defied all reason.
"..."
I started writing down Bitcoin prices one by one.
$2,000, $3,000, $4,000, $5,000.
No matter how high I went, I felt nothing.
Just when I started wondering if I was overshooting...
"...?"
At $10,000, I got the faintest flicker of a feeling.
'It goes over $10,000?'
No way.
$10,000 alone was enough to make someone faint, but if that's where I was only getting the slightest hint of a reaction, it meant the real price was even higher.
'Then... could it go up to $20,000?'
I bumped the price up significantly again.
But this time, my intuition only gave me another weak signal.
$30,000... $40,000... $50,000...
The feedback remained just as faint.
At this point, I was almost afraid to write the next number.
'J-just how high does it go?!'
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Bitcoin's untimely frenzy.
Mining Bitcoin required GPUs.
So naturally, GPU manufacturers couldn't help but smile.
But Nvidia, which currently controlled 80% of the global GPU market, was smiling on the outside while crying tears of blood on the inside.
"We've really hit our limit. At this rate, we won't even be able to produce the new X-Force series we're supposed to launch."
The Bitcoin craze had triggered a GPU shortage.
As a result, Nvidia's stock price had skyrocketed, and their products were flying off the shelves.
The problem was, they couldn't manufacture their current or next-gen products.
"TSNC still can't deliver?"
"The Tianjin Port explosion already wiped out one batch, but more than that, the Chinese government's constant threats against air routes are a huge factor. Not to mention, sea routes are completely blocked too."
Nvidia's CEO, Tony Hwang, was suffering from a splitting headache.
To manufacture graphics cards, they needed semiconductor chips produced and delivered by TSNC.
Given that TSNC was rooted in Taiwan and exclusively operated as a foundry, there had never been any disruptions in production—until now.
But suddenly, without warning, their connection with TSNC had been severed.
Somehow, products were still being shipped, but they weren't even meeting 50% of the ordered quantities.
"They're managing to send us products through roundabout routes, but... Right now, Gwangun Shipping has deliberately cut off all maritime shipments heading into TSNC. Even if TSNC wants to produce semiconductors, they can't—they lack the raw materials to do so."
Getting TSNC to manufacture and deliver semiconductors was something they could still manage somehow.
Even though China was threatening air routes, they weren't actually shooting anything down.
The real problem was the raw materials.
Producing semiconductors required silicon wafers, specialty gases, chemical materials, photoresists, and so on—a wide range of raw materials.
And to obtain these, they had to import them from numerous countries, including the U.S., the Netherlands, Japan, and Germany.
The only way to receive these supplies was by sea, and now that very route had been blocked—all because of a company called Gwangun, which was currently seizing control of the entire shipping industry.
"Rumors are circulating that Kangsung Group has joined hands with Gwangun to deliberately strangle TSNC. And on top of that, the Chinese government is backing them from the shadows."
"The Chinese government too? Why on earth?"
"Well, there must be multiple reasons. The Taiwanese president's rejection of the 'One China' policy could be one. More than anything, there's been talk since the Tianjin Port Explosion that Gwangun and the Chinese government have some kind of covert collaboration."
China controlled the skies.
Gwangun controlled the seas.
And Kangsung was moving into the foundry business.
With these three forces combined, even a massive foundry company like TSNC was struggling to breathe.
This wasn't just TSNC's problem.
Amphere and Qualcomm, which relied on TSNC to manufacture their products, were also scrambling to put out fires.
If things continued like this, those two companies would have no choice but to shift their long-standing stance of pushing Kangsung aside and stubbornly sticking with TSNC.
In other words, they'd be forced—tearfully and reluctantly—to entrust their semiconductor chips to a competitor. An ironic twist of fate.
"Sir, I think you'll need to open negotiations. There's already talk spreading that AMC's graphics cards are more efficient for Bitcoin mining than ours."
AMC.
The world's second-largest GPU company.
But being second meant little when Nvidia already controlled 80% of the market.
In fact, AMC was running such massive losses that it wouldn't be surprising if they shut down tomorrow.
But life was unpredictable.
If TSNC couldn't break free from this pressure and ended up closing its doors, Nvidia—whose entire operation was tailored to TSNC—would suffer a devastating blow.
Even if not immediately, they'd slowly lose market share to competitors and could eventually be overtaken.
"We have to stop that from happening."
That's why Tony Hwang had to step in personally to resolve this crisis.
"Who do we even approach? Kangsung?"
"Shouldn't we go to Gwangun instead?"
"Gwangun?"
"Yes. The only reason Kangsung can act so boldly is because they've established a new foundry business in Europe—something made possible by Deutsche Bank's collapse. And there are whispers that Gwangun played a decisive role in that collapse."
In other words, Gwangun was the mastermind behind this entire situation.
Just what kind of company was this, wielding influence across Asia, Europe, and even the U.S.?
"Hah..."
Truthfully, he didn't want to go to Korea himself.
Back in the early 2000s, when Nvidia was struggling, he had gone to Korea, begging for investments—only to be rejected by everyone. That memory still lingered like trauma.
Even now, he held a grudge against Korea.
And yet, here he was, about to bow his head to them again.
"Reach out to Gwangun. Tell them I'll fly to Korea myself to meet them."
He wanted to see the face of the bastard who had seized the semiconductor market by the throat and shaken it.
He needed to see it.