Proof of Wealth
February 10th, 11:15 a.m.
"Everything's ready, sir. The transfer is complete, and your securities account has been opened and linked without any issues."
A man in his twenties, looking thoroughly exhausted, held out the bankbook.
Several cards had been issued on the spot, and internet banking, mobile banking, and securities trading services had all been set up without a single omission.
Still, from nine o'clock onward, for roughly two hours of deposits and verifications, the employee's relentless sales pitch had worn us both down to nothing.
"Sir, with a sum this large, you really ought to leave the management to a professional—"
"In that case, if you join our U.S. mortgage fund, the returns are… ah! Of course, higher returns mean higher risk, but…"
"Hmm. Then if a dedicated private banker were assigned…"
"I'll handle it myself, thank you."
"Please, just take a look at this product here."
He talked endlessly. The man was desperate to close a sale.
I was no less stubborn. I already knew exactly where the money was going, so every word went in one ear and out the other.
"Sir, if you ever find yourself curious about any of the products in the pamphlets I gave you, please call me anytime. Have a wonderful day!!"
I returned the employee's polite farewell and headed into the third-floor restroom.
Thump-thump.
My heart was hammering so hard I had to clutch my chest for a moment and steady my breathing.
I'm rich. Now.
More than sixty-five billion won was sitting in Subspace at that very moment.
And according to the bank staff, a black card was the kind of thing that proved you were wealthy.
Citizen Bank—the largest private bank in the Republic of Korea—had just certified me as a rich man.
I would have liked to savor the joy a little longer, but a glance at my watch sent me opening a stall door.
I stepped into the stall, still dazed, and took another moment to collect myself.
All that remained was getting out of here cleanly.
I never thought those kinds of people would actually be out there…
I had assumed it was a myth.
The urban legend that every sort of human scavenger lurked near Citizen Bank headquarters, waiting to tail anyone who walked out with serious money.
But around 8:50, as I approached the main building, the subtle stares pouring in from every direction had been impossible to ignore.
They all pretended they had no business with Citizen Bank at all.
A circus first thing in the morning… and now I have to put on another show. Tch.
I stowed every last item into Subspace and transformed into the body of Lee Kang-ho—my clone.
From what I had observed earlier, the entrance security was thorough on the way in, but no one stopped you on the way out.
I had summoned Kang-ho before dawn and borrowed his resident registration card. He had a driver's license, so he almost never needed the ID card anyway.
I had entered as Kang-ho. I would leave as Kang-ho.
Even I had wondered whether this level of caution was necessary—but walking out as myself would have guaranteed a flood of calls and unannounced visits from every parasite in the city.
I changed back into a suit, picked up a document case, and stepped out through the entrance with a heavy sigh.
The case was stuffed with forged loan documents—papers so obviously doomed that no bank would ever approve them.
The moment I cleared the doors, the stares locked on again.
"Fuck… haaah. Why the hell won't they give me the loan!!!"
I shouted at the sky, then put on a performance of weary defeat as I walked to a trash can, tore the prepared loan papers to shreds, and dumped them in.
I even turned the bag upside down and shook it out for good measure.
A sharply tailored suit. Anyone with sharp eyes would notice I was carrying nothing more than a wallet against my chest.
Then—snap. The bag strap gave out.
I had bought the thing for thirty thousand won near a subway entrance and deliberately scored the strap with a knife in the restroom beforehand.
"Fuck!!!"
Since the document case held nothing but fakes, I tossed the whole thing into the trash and trudged toward the subway, scrubbing at my hair like a man who had just been dumped.
Footsteps behind me.
A few people were already poking around the trash can; a few more fell in behind me.
They might even have taken photos. Nothing I could do about that.
I boarded the train, rode one stop, then—right as the doors were about to close—acted as if I had just realized something, jumped off in mock surprise, and slipped into a restroom.
There I transformed back into myself, changed clothes, and walked out.
I took the exit toward the public parking lot. No sense of anyone following. Only then did I finally exhale.
Whew. The whole thing blew up so big that every freeloader in the city was camped out waiting…
I pulled my phone from my coat and called Hye-yun.
"Honey, are you done?"
"Yeah. I'm by the public parking lot exit."
"Stay there. I'm near the entrance. Coming out now."
"Okay."
The bankbooks were in Subspace, not against my chest—but I still found myself pressing a hand over my heart and grinning.
Sixty-seven billion two hundred ninety-nine million won.
From now on I can live however I want, do whatever I want…
It barely felt real.
I couldn't even picture how much physical cash ten billion would be—and now I was a man worth six hundred seventy-two billion, six hundred seventy-three if you counted the deposits…
Only the sight of Hye-yun's car approaching pulled me out of the daydream.
Or is it even a daydream? Heh.
February 10th, 12:30 p.m.
"Honey. This is amazing."
"Yeah. You can see all of Seoul from here."
Namsan Tower.
We had locked a padlock and come up, and now Hye-yun and I were looking out over the city.
In the last four days my life had completely transformed. If you counted everything properly it was more than five years, but only four days had passed here.
The financial ease radiating from the bankbooks against my chest.
And women.
Starting with Hye-yun, I had already slept with five women any man would covet—and as of ten that morning, I was a man worth more than sixty billion.
Even on school trips and vacations I had never been able to afford the luxury of simply enjoying a view.
I wrapped an arm around Hye-yun's waist and drank in the panorama of Seoul, savoring the life that had changed.
"What is it?"
Hye-yun had gone quiet. When I looked at her, her expression had darkened.
"Tomorrow. We go into a week of training camp. I'm worried."
"Jeong Hyeon-jin and Go Hye-rim are coming, right? I kind of want to go."
Dongra University's Department of Theater and Film was notorious for its brutal hierarchy.
She had applied and chosen it on the bare information that it produced more actresses than Junggan University or Korea University of the Arts.
At first I had assumed that meant it would be easier for her.
Then I heard that groups of women often enforced discipline even more ruthlessly than groups of men, and Hye-yun had spent the entire car ride sighing.
A quick search confirmed it: the hazing in nursing, flight attendant, and modeling programs was beyond imagination—and Dongra's theater department was always on the list.
Out of a class of forty, more than ten transferred out before the first year was over.
But the drawbacks came with real advantages.
Actresses from that school pulled for one another with fierce loyalty, making it far easier to break into the industry than graduates of other schools.
They forged a kind of battlefield sisterhood instead of petty jealousy… honestly, I was a little envious.
I should've gone to Dongra's theater department myself… I could probably get in now…
"So. People say those unnies are really scary."
"Don't worry. If they mess with you, I'll turn them into my slaves and put them under you. Just hold on with that thought."
"Huh? Haha. You're right. The way you keep saying Jeong Hyeon-jin and Go Hye-rim—are you a fan of those two?"
Hye-yun's eyes, from where she nestled against me.
Sweat beaded on my skin. I thought for a second, then spoke.
"I used to be. Now I'm a Hye-yun fan."
"Hmph. When I get the chance, I'll set up a meeting with those two unnies."
Hye-yun folded her arms and turned away in a mock sulk.
I had been worried at first—then I saw the corner of her mouth twitching and relaxed.
"Huh. You're actually going to do it?"
"Yeah. It'd be good for you, and good for me. If those two are around, my debut will be a lot easier."
Honest words from Hye-yun.
If she was volunteering to bring two top stars to me, there was no reason to stop her.
And she was right—if they took her under their wing, she would debut faster and become a star that much sooner.
Jeong Hyeon-jin and Go Hye-rim…
A movie from a year ago.
The girl-on-girl scene between the two of them rose in my mind.
Bodies not quite as good as Hye-yun's, but still excellent—two women wrestling with same-sex desire until they finally gave in.
Were they actually dating in real life?
The controversy had been that intense; their performances in Twisted Love had been flawless. They had even filmed with their breasts exposed.
It had flopped in theaters, then spent two months at number one in video rental shops, with VHS and DVD copies selling out in a bizarre phenomenon.
"Hmm. Good. Hye-yunmon. Mission time. Get me a meeting with Jeong Hyeon-jin and Go Hye-rim within a month. I want to watch them go at it right in front of me."
"Tch. What the hell is 'Hye-yunmon'? And girl-on-girl—you already saw that. Yesterday."
"It won't top mother-and-daughter, but those two are top stars right now. They used to be objects of longing. Don't worry. I'll put them under you."
A flicker of doubt crossed my mind—when had I started thinking of women this casually?
The confidence that if I truly wanted them, I could turn them into slaves.
Meeting them was the hard part. Once we met, whether through Chaehyang or anything else, it would be over the moment I put it in them. I was certain of it.
"So you don't like the idea? Yesterday you seemed to enjoy ordering Emily, Jeong-mi, Hyeon-ju, and Eun-hee around. Imagine having Hye-rim and Hyeon-jin under you. Them on their knees, licking your pussy."
I leaned in close to her ear and whispered.
Hye-yun's eyes went hazy.
"Aing. Fine. One month? I'll find a chance and set something up for sure."
We traded whispers low enough that no one around us could hear. Hye-yun's legs twisted together—she was clearly turned on.
Hmm. Having them reenact it themselves would be hot as hell…
"You said you know Ji-su and Alicia, right?"
Lee Ji-su. Alicia Lee.
Twin Girls.
Currently the top singers in Korea.
They had debuted as a duo five years ago and planted the very concept of "idol" in the barren soil of the Korean music industry—the original idols, monsters who swept the charts every time they released a song.
In a scene dominated by trot and ballads, they had been a ray of light, and their popularity showed it.
Scouted by SN Entertainment before they even turned ten, they had spent six years as trainees; their vocal ability was absurdly good.
Even established singers acknowledged their voices, and their dancing was perfect on top of it.
I'll get to see them dance naked.
"What? Honey, don't tell me—them too?"
"Yeah. Bring them. I'll feel them out first. If they don't want it, I won't touch them."
Hye-yun's expression didn't sour.
She had a quiet sadistic streak growing in her now; she had learned the pleasure of having people under her.
"Hmm. Well. Okay. They'll be there tomorrow too. I'll try to set something up—introduce my boyfriend. But they're busy, so…"
They had gone to the same arts high school, and from that school three people had gotten into Dongra: Hye-yun and the members of White Wing.
"Don't push yourself too hard."
"In exchange, you don't get to neglect me. Once every three days, no exceptions. Got it?"
"Heh. Fine. In return, you girls learn their choreography and entertain me with naked dances. Can you do that?"
Thump. Thump.
Hye-yun's fists were vicious. The pain landed clean and sharp.
"Aing. That's embarrassing. Fine."
"Hey, why are your hands so damn hard."
She was pressed against my chest, hitting me with closed fists instead of open palms, and it hurt like hell.
"Should we head to the hotel now?"
"Mm-hmm."
She clung to my arm, her face flushing rapidly.
I pushed her forehead back with a finger.
"Aing, why?"
"You little sex demon. We're eating first. Steak."
She pulled free of my arm for a moment, crossed her arms, and glared.
"Hey!! So you're not going to?"
"Heh. Fine. We eat, then we go all out."
"Okay!!"
"Ah!"
I was about to put a cut piece of steak in my mouth when Hye-yun opened hers wide.
The image of a baby bird begging its mother for food flashed through my mind. I snorted a laugh and fed the steak into her mouth.
Delicious. To think I lived without knowing this existed…
Everyone around us was in formal wear; we were the only ones in casual clothes, which was a little uncomfortable.
"Is it good?"
"Yeah. It tastes even better because you cut it for me. Honey, open up."
Swoosh.
Hye-yun had already sliced a piece of tenderloin and was feeding it into my mouth.
"It's good. Should we hit Inback or a steakhouse every week, even if it's not always a hotel?"
Gastronomy.
The craving for good food had finally woken up in me, and my first ambition was to completely conquer steak.
"Yeah. I like that. Honey—you're feeling the stares too, right?"
"Yeah. Everyone's in suits and we're in T-shirts and jeans. Whatever. Let's just eat comfortably."
No one had stopped us, but the server's up-and-down glance had been unpleasant. Looking at how everyone else was dressed, though, I couldn't really complain. Dress code. The fact that they had let us in at all, reservation or not, was something to be grateful for.
"Hanbok is not permitted."
"Excuse me? What about the person over there in a kimono…"
I had just watched a middle-aged woman get turned away for wearing a hanbok, so simply not being thrown out already felt like a win.
"Still. This place is kind of uncomfortable, honey. That woman they kicked out earlier is a famous hanbok artisan."
"Huh? You know her?"
"Yeah. Whenever Mom and I get hanbok made, we always go to her shop. I've even seen the Prime Minister's wife there. They seemed really close. What is this place thinking…"
An acquaintance of the wife of a man who had been Prime Minister for thirteen years.
Even if this was a five-star group hotel.
He had just won a fourth consecutive term last year, enjoyed high public approval, and was genuinely popular.
Under a parliamentary system he held near-absolute power—and they had just snubbed one of his wife's friends. If it made the papers, this hotel was…
"This place is about to get wrecked. The restaurant staff too…"
"Yeah. Haha. Serves them right. Honey—ah!"
Hye-yun's eyes lit up; she glanced once past my shoulder.
I opened my mouth on reflex for the piece she held out.
At this rate I was going to finish the meal without eating a single slice of my own steak.
I fed a piece into Hye-yun's mouth, then quickly cut one for myself and put it in.
Mm. The flavor's different.
"Pfft. Honey, were you that hungry?"
"Yours and mine taste different. This is my first time eating steak, you know."
"Irish salad for the table."
The server set the salad down with trembling hands.
I gave a small nod and she withdrew—the same woman who had looked us over so boldly earlier now kept her eyes down and turned away in a hurry.
After delivering the salad she went pale and scurried over to the maître d'.
I had deliberately mentioned the Prime Minister's wife loud enough to be overheard, and it seemed she had caught every word.
The maître d' went white as well and fled the restaurant.
I felt wonderfully settled.
Even if nothing came of it, the thought of them losing sleep for days from the stress put me in an excellent mood.
"You're so mean, honey."
"Heh. And you? You saw her coming and played right along, didn't you?"
Hye-yun nodded.
It was the first time I had seen that mocking little smile of hers.
I smirked the same way and reached for the salad.
"You booked the room, right?"
"Yeah. Standard suite. It even has a living room."
I had expected a suite to cost millions of won, but a room with a living area and a bedroom for five hundred fifty thousand was a reasonable price.
It wasn't huge, of course—but still.
"Honey, then after we finish, should we go downstairs, grab some somaek, and bring it up?"
"Somaek? Sounds good."
Spending money on expensive hotel wine felt wrong somehow.
Somaek was still the truth. I remembered the convenience store I had spotted earlier and nodded.
Steak.
I never knew it could taste this good.
Objectively, top-grade Korean beef grilled fresh on the spot was probably better—but steak had a flavor all its own.
The burst of blood, the juices, the butter aroma.
I regretted not ordering the big tomahawk.
Next time.
"On the eighteenth—do you go straight to orientation?"
"Yeah. Camp ends the morning of the eighteenth, then we head straight to Dongra. There's a dinner that night too. I won't see you until the nineteenth. Hing."
"Right. On the nineteenth I'm leaving for the States… so I'll have to catch your face first thing in the morning."
"Okay. If you're still asleep, I'll just jump you. Haha."
I snorted a laugh, cut two pieces of steak, fed one to Hye-yun, and ate the other myself.
For a while, whenever I date women—whether it's Inback or a hotel—I'm only eating steak… to think I lived without knowing this…
I wasn't short on money anymore. This level of luxury was allowed.
In the end, you needed money as much as you needed a cock.