Don't Sell Yet
In the days that followed, nothing particularly dramatic unfolded.
He'd steeled himself and gone all-in, but the price didn't suddenly explode five or six times over. If anything, it refused to rise at all, grinding through one sideways range after another.
Naturally, nobody in the paid room was hassling Wildcat about why the market wasn't moving.
And then, after a few more days had passed, Jisu's phone chimed.
A notification from the paid signal room.
Something to tell us?
For some reason, Wildcat's tone felt off. It wasn't his usual cadence.
What is this? Is it about to dump?
But that didn't add up either. No matter how bad a crash got, Wildcat had always asked them to trust him after the dump had already happened. Issuing a warning in advance like this — that was a first.
Don't tell me it's about to get chopped to a third. A quarter, even.
Where there were three-fold and four-fold pumps, the inverse was just as inevitable. Getting cut to a third, a quarter — thinking you'd hit rock bottom only to discover a basement underneath. In the coin market, that kind of thing happened all the time.
His devotees sent up their fervent support, and then a few more hours passed. Not days. Hours.
In the most literal sense, it happened barely three hours later.
Wh-what the hell...?!
Jisu stared at the Bitstorm screen, stunned.
The coin he'd bought — Masterchef — was—
It nearly tripled?!
A three-fold moon. The kind of vertical spike you barely saw anymore. With the broader market still grinding through a prolonged downtrend, a coin that had just tripled was more than enough to set the chat on fire for the first time in ages.
It was a parade of absolute nonsense, not a single scrap of real information among them — but the one hard fact was this: a coin that had only just listed on the KRW market had tripled.
Wait. If that's what happened, then what he said earlier...!
Only with a result like this in front of him did Jisu finally understand what Wildcat had been driving at.
He told us not to sell even at a 3x gain?
There was no such thing as an investment that tripled your money in a single day. If something like that existed, it was gambling, not investing.
Three times was an enormous return. Put in 200,000 won, walk away with 600,000. Put in 2 million, walk away with 6 million. Put in 20 million, walk away with 60 million. Put in 200 million, and... the numbers just kept scaling. It was more than enough to multiply a fortune without end.
Any ordinary investor who so much as doubled their money would have stretched out their legs, slept like a baby, and bowed to the heavens in gratitude for the opportunity. That much was certain.
But this was the coin market. A place so extreme, so thoroughly a den of speculation, that if you'd never eaten a 3x before, people would tell you to cash out and get the hell out — because you were clearly too stupid to ever make money here anyway.
Alright then. What about the stats?
Jisu checked his status, almost gingerly.
You've got to be kidding me. SSS+++ rank?
SSS rank, with three plus signs stacked on top of it!
He had a feeling he'd hit a similarly absurd rank when he fought the wyvern, but he'd lost consciousness mid-battle, so this was the first time he was seeing it with his own eyes.
SSS+++ rank!
How many hunters in the world had ever reached that monument? This wasn't something effort could buy, or talent, or luck. It sat squarely in the realm of gods. No matter how fortunate you were, no matter how much blood and sweat you poured into training, acquiring SSS+++ rank was next to impossible.
And Jisu had just done it like it was nothing.
SSS+++ rank. He felt like hugging the status window and bursting into tears.
If I sell my abilities right now, that's it. I'm SSS+++ for real.
The rank on display was SSS+++, but strictly speaking, Jisu wasn't SSS+++ at this moment. He didn't actually have the stats yet. What he was looking at was an estimate, nothing more — and what he held in his hands wasn't stats. It was coins.
Masterchef coins. Only by selling them and receiving the stats in return would he become an SSS+++ rank hunter.
But Wildcat told us not to sell.
Jisu sank into thought. Should he just sell? Even if it climbed further from here, wasn't SSS+++ already more than powerful enough? And wouldn't another chance to ride a pump come around eventually?
He was still turning it over in his mind when, as if the timing had been calculated down to the second, Wildcat's messages started rolling in.
A measly 3x, he says...
To be fair, a three-fold gain really wasn't that impressive in this market. Even so, slapping the word "measly" on it felt like a stretch — the return was still enormous — and that was enough to send Jisu spiraling back into indecision.
Doesn't look like there are any raids coming up. Maybe I should sell off about half here?
If this had been a normal play — a small position, or just a single stat invested — Jisu could have sat tight and waited it out. This time was different.
He'd gone all-in. Every last bit of his ability was currently stuffed into that coin. He had no choice but to be cautious — and the moment that thought landed, something in him snapped back into focus.
No. I trust Wildcat, and I hold.
Why had he gone all-in in the first place? What conviction had made a decision that big possible?
The way he's talking, he's got real conviction. Even if it dips a little from here, selling then would still be profit. I'll wait for the opportunity.
Jisu steeled himself again, and left his all-in position exactly where it was.
Wildcat had said he'd tell them when it was time to take profit — which meant hold. For now, Jisu had decided to believe in him.
"This is sudden, I'll admit — but why are you calling me in out of nowhere?"
"I don't know the exact reason. Still, it's an official summons from the Association, so I doubt it's anything too strange."
Jisu rode a taxi toward the Hunter Association, talking with his operator, Seyeon, along the way. Mindful of what had happened last time, he'd made sure the receiver's battery was fully charged.
The reason he was heading to the Association on such short notice was Seyeon's call. She was, first and foremost, an operator attached to the Hunter Association, so having her superiors send her to fetch him wasn't particularly unusual in itself.
What gave Jisu pause was that he was still all-in on the coin. Going on a raid would mean he'd need those invested stats to fight — but he wanted to cash out at the precise moment Wildcat gave the sell order, which meant he would rather not set foot in any raid before then.
"Is there a raid or something?"
"I'm sorry. I don't even know that much. All I was told was to escort Hunter Hyun Jisu to Hunter Association Headquarters..."
"No, you don't need to apologize. Thank you for letting me know. If it turns out we're heading to a raid, or anything else comes up, I'll tell you right away."
He wrapped up the conversation with Seyeon, and that was when the driver in the front seat spoke up. A middle-aged man, well into his years.
"You a hunter, sir?"
"Sorry? Oh — yes. I am."
His first thought was how the man had known, but then he remembered he'd said the word "raid" out loud. He had no particular reason to hide that he was a hunter — not unless the person asking was his mother — so he answered naturally.
"I see. Tough line of work. My daughter awakened as a hunter not too long ago, and from the sound of it, it's nowhere near as easy as they make it look on the news. The high-rank ones make a lot of money, they say, but..."
"That's true enough."
Jisu answered with just enough courtesy to be polite. He himself was one of those "high-rank hunters who make a lot of money" the driver was talking about, but between his unremarkable clothes and the fact that he was riding a regular taxi without a second thought, the man clearly hadn't picked up on it. High-rank hunters had a reputation for keeping private drivers and moving in secret, after all.
The driver kept going after that, rambling on about his daughter in bits and pieces, and Jisu listened with unfailing politeness, never once letting a hint of impatience show.
How much time passed like that?
"We're here, sir."
"Ah — thank you."
Jisu offered a polite goodbye and held out his card, but the driver turned his head and refused.
"You were kind enough to play along with an old man's chatter. Made me think of my daughter, too. I'll sleep better if I don't take your money. We're both out here grinding, after all."
"..."
Jisu froze for a beat, then answered as courteously as he could.
"I don't think you and your daughter are the only ones working hard. You're out here putting in the hours too, living your life the right way. I appreciate the thought — I really do — but if I walk away without paying, I'll be the one who can't sit still."
"Well. If a young man puts it like that..."
The driver gave an embarrassed laugh, ran the fare, and then said, "Thanks for saying that. I don't know what's waiting for you today, but it'll work out. Take care of yourself."
"You too, sir. Take care."
Jisu stepped out of the taxi in good spirits. He looked up — and there it was, the very place where he had first met the S-rank hunters.
The headquarters of the Korean Hunter Association.