The Gift

Art Company.

The moment I opened their homepage, profile photos filled the screen. A few faces I didn't recognize; a few I did. And every face I knew belonged to an actor.

"What the hell? Is she preparing to become an actress? Is that why she gets all dressed up and heads out every morning? Auditions?"

Come to think of it, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Iseul's mother had been an actress too — not the kind who appeared on TV, but a theater actress from a stage company.

"An actress, huh... Looking at her face alone, she could easily be S-tier material..."

I drummed my fingers on the desk, lost in thought.

It wasn't just idols. Korean films and dramas were taking the world by storm too. What if, instead of pouring money into AI companies, I invested in agencies or productions? Or better yet — acquired one, or founded an investment firm of my own? Would that make for a solid investment?

Something like this needed an expert's opinion. I called Choi Hyunil, my private banker, for advice right away.

A phone call would have been plenty, but of course he had to show up at my place in person again.

"If you're looking to invest in films or dramas, I can put together a list of productions currently seeking capital."

"You handle that kind of thing too?"

"Of course. Shall I look into it?"

"No. More than that — if I wanted to acquire an agency, would you help with that as well?"

"I'm afraid that falls outside the scope of our services. However, I can introduce you to a specialized law firm in that field."

"Hmm... Then, between investing in AI companies and acquiring an agency — or founding an investment firm to back productions — which do you think is the better move?"

Choi Hyunil answered without a second of hesitation.

"If it were me, I'd invest in AI companies."

"Why?"

"Assuming the risks are comparable, the potential returns are significantly higher. And investing and running a company are entirely different problems."

Investing was a waiting game — bury the money and sit on your patience. Sure, some people got involved in management after writing the check, but most just waited for results. Running a company, though? That was a war every single day. Even if you hired professional executives, it was still your company. You'd be taking reports, fretting over revenue, sighing over returns versus capital. And if one of your actors got caught drunk driving? Nightmare fuel.

"These are the AI-related companies I'd recommend. Reviewing them should prove useful."

"Thank you."

After Choi Hyunil left, I went through the materials he'd left behind. Honestly, though, I couldn't make heads or tails of most of it.

"Haa... Do I really need to be stressing over this because of Iseul?"

Was it really because of her? Had she actually been the reason I'd started thinking about all this?

I didn't think that was the whole story.

I'd spent my whole life giving everything I had. Not doing what I wanted, not eating what I craved, not buying what I desired — every hour poured into building a better life. And after all that grinding, this was the result? A total life reversal from crypto I'd invested in thinking the money was as good as thrown away — completely unrelated to any effort of mine.

I could call it compensation for all the suffering. But it felt hollow. Like everything I'd worked for had been invalidated. Sure, taking it this seriously was a little ridiculous — but I wanted to become something. Not just some crypto nouveau riche swaggering around on dumb luck. I wanted to be someone people respected.

Yeah. That was it.

"Someone people respect..."

Someone who could stand tall in front of my late grandmother. Someone so successful that the people who called themselves my father and mother — the ones who'd abandoned me — would beat the ground in regret.

That didn't mean I was going back to a life of grinding myself into dust. I wanted to play, enjoy myself, and earn respect. I wanted to turn that absurd greed into reality.

"You want it? You're hungry for it? Then just do it. You've got the money for it."

I picked up my phone again and called Choi Hyunil.

Not long after I hung up with Choi Hyunil, an unknown number called.

For the past ten days, Iseul had left every morning without fail and only come home in the evening. The audition results clearly weren't going well. Whatever company it was, they had no eye for talent. She could stand there without a single line of dialogue and still make headlines — so why wasn't anyone casting her?

Or was I just wearing rose-colored glasses for her?

No. Objectively speaking, she was ridiculously beautiful. Even today, with her bare face.

"Why are you staring like that...? Does it not taste right?"

"No, it's good."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Haa... Thank goodness..."

"But how come you're having breakfast with me today? No makeup, either. You're not going out?"

"I can leave a little later today~ Hee~"

She could leave later? Fewer companies holding auditions today, maybe?

"Still keeping it a secret?"

"Yes... I'm sorry... Just until this evening..."

"Until evening?"

"Th-there's a reason!"

"Alright. I won't ask. Eat your food."

"Okay... Haaaah....."

Was I completely misreading this? Judging by her reactions alone, she looked like a girlfriend who'd been caught cheating.

"Would you like more seaweed soup?"

"I'm good. This is enough."

"No, it's not!!"

"Jesus— what isn't?"

"That is... please eat a little more!"

"No, seriously, this is fin—"

"......"

"Fine. Give me a little more, then."

"Yes! Just a moment~ Heehee."

"What's with her..."

Those eyes were impossible to refuse. If I'd said no, she looked ready to burst into tears on the spot. The way her expression flipped on a dime — she really would make a solid actress.

But was this portion actually meant for a human being? Before I knew it, a bowl that looked like a seaweed farm sat in front of me.

"You want me to eat all of this...?"

"Yes! There's still plenty, so eat up and have more!"

"......"

Eat this and then have more? Was she serious?

Of course it was too much. Eating all of that was never going to happen.

"Urgh...!!"

The seaweed bloating in my stomach surged all the way up my throat. I needed to throw up first, then—

Bzzzt!!! Bzzzt!!!

My phone buzzed on the sofa. I wanted to puke first and call back later, but of course it was Park Daehan.

Twenty-seven billion?

They didn't have a top-tier star. They didn't have a huge roster of actors. They didn't even own their own building. And they wanted twenty-seven billion?

"These people are total scammers...!"

After acquiring Art Company, I'd have about thirty-six billion left. Could I do everything else with thirty-six billion? Would the money run short? And if this whole thing failed?

Well, I'd just liquidate the other investments. Those alone added up to a hundred fifteen billion.

Alright. I'd already ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠decided — no more second-guessing. Just go.

Where in the world was there an easy path? Unless you were a chaebol heir, every road was lined with thorns.

That was everything spent. Once this was done, I'd have only six billion left in cash. No — after taxes and fees, even less.

"Wow... Once you decide to spend it, money disappears in a blink..."

That evening, Iseul came home dressed up from her outing.

"You're back?"

"Ah...."

"What?"

"C-could you wait in your room for just a minute...?"

"Why? I'm watching this right now."

"Just a second! Just one second!"

What was this about?

"Please... Master...!"

"....Fine. How long do I need to stay in there?"

"I'll come get you!"

"Tch..."

She'd gone so far as to use the title she only ever called me during sex, so I paused the drama and headed to my room.

About thirty minutes passed before a knock came at the door.

"Can I come out?"

"Yes! Come out now~~"

"What the..."

What on earth was this? I tilted my head, opened the door — and pitch-black darkness swallowed me whole.

"W-why is every light off?!"

"Look at your feet!"

"My feet...?"

Glow-in-the-dark stickers? Sparkling arrows were stuck to the floor at intervals. I followed them into the living room, where a "Do Not Enter" sign was posted as if to bar me from going any farther.

"Iseul, I don't know what you're trying to—"

"Ta-da~!!"

"......"

For a moment, I lost all words. The living room wall ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠directly ahead of me was glowing brilliantly.

I stared at the glittering letters and thought: was today my birthday? Was that why she'd cooked an entire pot of seaweed soup this morning?

"Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday dear... Eunho oppa... Master... Happy birthday to you~!! Heehee~"

"......"

Iseul carefully walked over holding a cake studded with candles, beaming with a radiant smile. I just stared at her.

This was a first. No one had ever celebrated my birthday like this. Grandmother had only ever made seaweed soup. With friends, we'd just drunk. Even when I'd had girlfriends, it had never been more than a small cake.

And yet Iseul — who was neither family, nor friend, nor girlfriend — was celebrating my birthday more thoroughly than anyone ever had.

My nose stung.

"Hurry up and blow out the candles and make a wish~ Hee."

"....Hoo!!"

I blew out the flames.

"Now the wish!"

"Let me have sex with you."

"Wha..? Mmph!!!!"

I grabbed her face and crushed my lips against hers. Iseul flailed, still holding the cake, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠until she finally dropped it — and I stepped right over the fallen cake to get even closer.

"The cake.... haa... mmph...! Mmm....!!"

The cake could be bought again. Or we could just pick up the clean parts and eat those. Right now, Iseul's lipstick tasted better than any cake.

"Haaaah.... Master...."

"Thank you."

"It's nothing.."

"Then can I unwrap my present?"

"Huh..?"

I undid one button of her blouse. And as I reached for the next—

Her hand clamped down on mine.

"Th-there's a separate present..!"

"Whatever it is, I doubt it beats this one."

"Even so... p-please open the present first!"

She tugged my captured hand and dragged me into the living room.

"J-just a second! From here I need to cover your eyes..."

"What is it?"

"Heeing..."

"Fine. Cover them."

"Okay! This way!"

She covered my eyes with both hands and guided me backward, step by step. We were clearly right in front of the sofa.

"Okay — one.. two.. three!! Ta-da~!!"

"......"

"I-is it bad..?"

A fairly large picture frame sat there, small light bulbs strung around its edges like stars painted into the image itself.

"I-I'm sorry... You're rich, Master, so I figured nothing I bought would impress you..."

"You painted this yourself?"

"Yes..."

The moon. Stars. Waves. Iseul's painting held a night sea. A girl who'd given up on university because she supposedly had no talent, painting something this beautiful? That was a miracle.

"Is this what you've been going out to work on all this time?"

"Yes.... I did my best.... I'm sorry...."

"What's the meaning behind it?"

"Well..... When you and I first became one in Busan... I painted the night sky we saw that night..."

"......"

I stared at Iseul's face. Carefully cupping her dejected expression, I lifted it toward me.

"Iseul."

"Yes..."

"Thank you. For giving me the best birthday of my life."

"Master.... mmph..!!"

I covered her lips again. Undid the buttons of her blouse and pushed her down onto the sofa. And then I simply took it in — the most beautiful painting, and the most beautiful woman, disheveled beneath me.

"Haa... haa.... Then please... accept this present too...."

"Gladly."

Inside the blouse, a ribbon covered her chest like gift wrapping. I reached for it.

Slip—