A Small Misunderstanding
The proper title wasn’t “maid.” It was “domestic helper.”
And the average interview fee ran about ten thousand won.
Which was why I’d come for gukbap instead of another convenience-store lunch box.
“Have you looked into the salary?”
“Yes. But I’ll just take whatever you give me. It’s the employer’s call, after all.”
“Ah… well, then I’ll make the first offer. If it feels unfair, say so.”
“Okay!”
From what I’d researched, the average monthly pay for a domestic helper—four hours a day, five weekdays, weekends off—started around 1.6 million won.
Offering exactly that would make me look like a cutthroat boss, and since the number I’d already settled on in my head was two million, I split the difference at 1.8 million.
That ought to cover rent and living expenses without trouble.
And with only about five hours a day including commute, five days a week, it wouldn’t wreck her study schedule either.
“I’ll offer 1.8 million won a month.”
“1.8 million…”
“Is that not enough?”
“N-no! Thank you! Thank you so much!! I’ll work really hard!”
“You’re sure it’s okay?”
“Yes! It’s more than okay! Um… so… when can I start…?”
“I’ll call you the moment I find a place. And give me your account number. Like I promised, I’ll deposit the first month’s pay right away.”
“……”
“Room 301?”
What? Did I mess something up?
The woman from next door suddenly dropped her head, shoulders trembling.
“Hic…”
Wait—is she crying??
Why all of a sudden??
“Thank you… hic…”
“Why are you crying…! People are staring…!!”
“Hiiing…! I’m sooorry….”
“Haa…”
I didn’t think the kindness was so over-the-top it deserved tears.
But gratitude lives in the heart of the person receiving it.
And since I felt a little proud myself, I just let her cry a bit longer.
Crazy bastard.
I was a genuine crazy bastard.
“The view’s insane…”
At first I hadn’t planned on buying anything.
I’d only tagged along because they said it was the most expensive multi-unit housing in Korea and I figured it’d be fun to look.
Then, like something possessed me, I signed the contract.
The imposing exterior, the supercars lining the parking garage, the overwhelming interior space, and that jaw-dropping Han River view.
Even the slightly lower floor that let me see the green leaves of the trees along the walking path out front felt perfect.
So I bought the place.
A mere 74 pyeong for 13 billion won.
Taxes alone came to nearly 600 million, and with all the various fees it climbed close to 800 million.
On top of that I’d be paying roughly 200 million a year in property tax and comprehensive real-estate tax.
And that wasn’t all.
Management fees averaged two million a month.
“Crazy bastard… no matter how much money I’ve got….”
Management, domestic helper, taxes—about 250 million a year.
If I lived another sixty years, that was 15 billion.
Factor in inflation and call it 20 billion.
Subtract all of that plus the purchase price from what I currently held and I still had around 110 billion left.
“The numbers were so huge I couldn’t get a feel for them… but I’m richer than I thought… rich enough that I don’t even have to sweat the hundred-million-won range….”
So a little more luxury wouldn’t hurt, right?
I went to my main bank to pay the purchase price.
The amount was far too large for a simple account transfer.
I took a number, waited my turn, sat at the counter, exchanged a few words—and was immediately ushered into the VIP room.
Fragrant coffee and expensive snacks were already set out. People filed in one after another, each handing me a business card.
Among them, a private banker—PB—chatted for a bit, then stood and promised to handle everything quickly.
Then another person walked in.
Seriously, how many people do I have to meet just to move money between accounts?!
“May I address you as Representative Yoo Eunho?”
“No, I’m not a representative… just call me whatever’s comfortable.”
“Understood, Representative Yoo Eunho.”
If that works for you, fine.
Ugh… I just want to get home already.
“Representative, you’ve been withdrawing 500 million won every day from CoinKing. Do you plan to continue?”
“Why are you asking?”
“We’re simply inquiring so we can be of assistance.”
“Assistance?”
“If the withdrawal limit is the reason you’ve been taking out 500 million at a time, we can use a special clause to raise that limit for you.”
“Raise it?? How high?”
“Up to five billion won per day.”
“Ah…!”
Five billion a day and I’d be finished in a month.
No—if I’d started at five billion from the beginning, the money would already be out.
It was good news, so why did I feel so cheated?
“If something like that existed, you could’ve contacted me sooner.”
“We actually called every day, but we couldn’t reach you, so we never got the chance to explain. Our apologies.”
“Ah….”
The bank had been calling nonstop.
I’d misunderstood and never picked up.
When tens of billions suddenly appeared in my account, of course I assumed they were just trying to sell me financial products.
“Ahem…! I’ve been a bit busy. So you’ll set the daily withdrawal to five billion?”
“Yes, right away. And for our special clients, our bank also issues…”
Coming to the bank had been the right move.
From now on, any large transfer just meant a call to my assigned PB and they’d take care of it.
They offered all sorts of other services too, and said they could park 10 billion at the bank’s preferential risk-free rate so I’d earn at least 300 million a year in interest alone.
House-related costs could now be covered by bank interest.
On top of that I received a Private Black card—issued only to top-tier clients.
Annual fee was three million, but I could swipe without worrying about limits and enjoy every perk imaginable.
They even promised priority reservations at university hospitals where waiting was the norm.
So this was why people went crazy chasing money.
The so-called world of their own.
I’d just stepped into it.
Of course I wasn’t raking in enormous sums every year the way they did.
“Huh?? What’s this about?”
Park Taeyong.
The second I left the bank, a call came in from my old work buddy.
“What’s up?”
“Hey, Yoo Eunho.”
“What?”
“I quit too. Gonna be out of touch for a while.”
Why the sudden announcement?
After I left the company our contact had already thinned out; for the past two weeks we hadn’t even texted.
Ah… he wants me to ask, doesn’t he?
“You quit? Why?”
“Going on a trip. Europe.”
“You don’t have money.”
“Heh heh heh heh…!”
“Why are you laughing like that…! Don’t tell me you’re going on loan-shark money?!”
“Loan sharks? Me? This Park Taeyong??”
“……”
He sounded completely unhinged. I should talk him down, right?
“Eunho.”
“What?”
“Remember what I told you before you quit? About Manager Oh investing in coins.”
“Yeah. You said you put in two hundred yourself.”
“No. I actually pulled my deposit and threw it all in.”
“You crazy son of a bitch…!! Have you lost your mind?!”
“Yeah I lost it. Lost it so hard I’m about to go completely insane.”
“Oh for real…! So how much do you need right now?!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You called because you need money, right?”
“Buddy. I’m rich. That thing skyrocketed. Youngjun that dumbass didn’t listen to me and never invested, so right now he’s on the roof—”
I hung up.
Then I opened the exchange app I’d been logging into every day for withdrawals.
When I put in five billion, Retto Coin had been 839 won apiece.
Now…
Holdings: 5,959,475 RTC
Average Buy Price: 10,788 KRW
“Ugh…!”
Five billion had ballooned into 64 billion.
64 billion… 64 billion… 64 billion…
“Only 64 billion?!!!!!!!!”
“Wh-what…?”
“What’s wrong with that guy…”
“Must be crazy…”
“Hey, hey. Don’t make eye contact.”
“Heh… heh heh heh…!!”
I laughed.
I laughed because I was so pathetic.
If I’d put in 10 billion it would’ve been 128 billion.
20 billion → 256 billion.
30 billion → 384 billion.
But only five billion? Five billion??
“I want a do-over!!!!!!!!”
I liquidated Retto Coin without a shred of regret.
Taeyong said he’d already cashed out, and Manager Oh had washed his hands of it long ago, so I didn’t get greedy.
Current assets: roughly 170 billion.
Now I really could live without ever worrying about money again.
In a house that looked like a painting.
Doing whatever I wanted…
Ding-dong~ ding-dong~
The intercom chime that interrupted my private time echoed through the living room.
High ceilings made even the doorbell sound surround-sound.
Still, she was more stubborn than I expected.
I’d told her the move-in cleaning was already done so there was nothing left, yet she insisted on coming to work. Why?
Just stay home and study.
Beep—
No need to walk all the way to the front door; one button on the intercom opened it.
Ahh… expensive houses really are nice.
But what was that noise?
Sounded like wheels.
Rrrrrrrr—
Ah! Did she bring cleaning supplies?
Come to think of it, I hadn’t bought a single cleaning tool.
I’d have to go shopping tomorrow.
“Ah….”
“You’re here?”
“……”
“Room 301?”
The woman from next door stared straight at me, blinking, then forced words out through trembling lips.
“C-can you… buy a house like this… with lottery winnings…?”
She thought I’d won the lottery.
No wonder she was shocked.
This place was absolutely impossible on lottery money.
“Just sit on the sofa for a bit. Move-in cleaning’s done, so there’s honestly nothing to do today.”
“N-no… I should at least…”
“Sit.”
“….Okay.”
While she sat on the sofa and looked around, I poured a cup of coffee.
Me, the guy who used to hunt for the cheapest coffee, drinking pour-over…
All hail crypto.
“Let me do that!”
“It’s fine. I’ve got it.”
“No! Just teach me and I’ll do it! It’s something I’ll have to do every morning anyway.”
“Every morning??”
“Yes.”
“You’re coming to work in the mornings?”
“Coming to work…?”
“Yes.”
“……”
“……”
What?
This awkward conversation felt like the points weren’t lining up.
Wait a second.
No way. It couldn’t be.
“Shall we set your work hours first? Four hours a day, so which time works best for you?”
“……”
Yep.
That face, that reaction.
She was definitely misunderstanding.
Which meant that suitcase wasn’t full of cleaning tools…
“Um… I’m not… the live-in housekeeper…?”
What kind of live-in domestic helper works for only 1.8 million won!!!!