Chapter 83: Militaris 09 - Real Production Crumbles
"How do I look?"
Sua, who had quit the police force and joined as the director of Prestige, stood before me in the morning wearing a new outfit. Well, calling it "new" was a bit of a stretch—it was still basically a uniform suit—but seeing her, who had worn her police uniform every day, in something different felt refreshingly novel. Especially how it perfectly supported her signature massive tits while subtly revealing them...
"Mm. Perfect."
It was an outfit that could extend a man's lifespan. And her lower half was no slouch either. A super short suit skirt paired with black stockings. High heels that maximized her femininity. When she was by my side as a cop, she'd worn bulkier stuff to emphasize her role, but now there was no need for that. She'd gone full lethal cock-tease mode.
The old me, with zero resistance to women, would've blown his load just looking at her! Of course, even now, just seeing her got me hard.
"Should I wear this from now on?"
"Yeah. It's spot on. Take good care of me, Director Im."
Sua flashed a bright smile.
"Looking forward to serving you, Master~."
Hah, you little vixen. Why are you so damn pretty?
"By the way, no backlash from the police side?"
"Oh, you mean my resignation? Nothing much. They didn't seem to have the bandwidth."
"Why's that?"
"Beats me?"
Sua tilted her head innocently. She really seemed clueless. They'd personally fast-tracked her promotion and begged her to come to HQ, only for her to suddenly resign—and no reaction? That was fishy. And it wasn't just her; the whole team of 30 had quit...
"Maybe something big came up and they're swamped?"
"Like what?"
"If you ask me like that, I'd have to say I don't know..."
Screw it.
"Hey. Get up here."
Whatever that was could wait. First, I had to fuck this seductive bitch senseless.
October 20th, Tuesday. After a steamy morning with Sua, Real Production's stock began melting away.
Turns out, it stemmed from the CEO's antics last night. Texts leaked between him and his inner circle: "This whole thing's a scam targeting the sheeple.""The masses are idiots—easy marks." Stuff like that.
Gamers and investors who'd bought into the hype of a fully immersive VR sex game suddenly felt like the "sheeple." Real Production scrambled for damage control, but it was already viral across the net—total chaos.
Insiders knew panic was brewing before the market even opened. And when it did? Hallelujah. From 360,000 won to 140,000 in one day—a historic 61% drop.
Pre-possession Korea would've had circuit breakers and price limits, but in Demonic Incheon 2077's alpha-male Republic of Korea? No such bullshit. It plunged freely, handing me massive gains.
And with all the sell orders tomorrow, the real hell starts then.
"How much did we make on shorts?"
"Uh... 14 trillion won."
"Whoa. We cleaned up."
2.8 trillion from dumping holdings, plus 14 trillion from infinite short farming—total around 17 trillion. Shorts need buying back to close, so settling now would net only ~61% profit, but that's insane anyway.
"Recalls are coming in already."
"Recalls? To cover the shorts?"
"Yes. They sense it's bad—want it closed now."
"Our terms?"
"Must return shares within 2 business days of demand. Ignore it, and the exchange can force liquidation."
"Two days..."
In my estimate, it'll drop over 90% by then. Maybe right to liquidation if we're lucky. At 90% profit on 14 trillion? About 12.6 trillion. I'd buy back 1.4 trillion in shares, but hey, bus fare.
Can't be stingy after pocketing over 12 trillion.
"Delay repayment as long as possible."
"Got it, Master. Oh, and Financial Supervisory Service called. Asking why we shorted so much. Audit incoming?"
"Now? Bring it. What'd I do wrong?"
"Noth... ing, I guess..."
"If they're coming, send hot babes."
"..."
Doubt they'll have the balls, but even if they do, I'm clean on finance. Market disruption from heavy shorting? Please—stock was rising while I shorted steadily. It just cooled off.
The real trigger? CEO's fuckup. How's that on me? I'm following all the rules. Even setting up Mu-yeol Finance properly.
"I'm squeaky clean under heaven."
"..."
"Hell, I deserve an award. Turned 75 billion into 14—no, 15 trillion. What's the multiplier? Give me points for founding a finance corp. Where else you got talent like this?"
"Y-Yeah..."
Sua gave an awkward smile at my shamelessness.
"How's Nokono-go HQ? Made contact?"
"Yes, but no interest in merger or acquisition, per the CEO."
"Hmph... Doesn't she know mercy? Keep proposing anyway. Up the price. Hint at the vibe. You get me?"
"Yes, Master."
Plan was to lure Nokono-go's CEO gentlemanly—better for spotlighting LUMINA. If she keeps refusing, remind her of the rudeness to my jotjip.
"LUMINA doing well?"
"Yes. Buried under Real Production noise, but ads everywhere—recognition exploding, popularity too."
"Good. Keep it up."
"Yes."
BAM!
The massive oak desk split in half under the giant fist. Acrid smoke rose, choking the air, but the subordinate stood frozen, praying his boss cooled off.
"This make any fucking sense???"
"..."
"Does this make sense, I said!!!"
Jang Kyung-su, usually composed, swung his huge fists wildly. Bookshelves and chandeliers shattered, littering the floor. But his rage showed no sign of fading.
Why so furious? Im Sua rejecting her promotion and resigning? Dragging her 30-person team with her? Infuriating, sure—but he had bigger fish.
"Raaargh!!!!!"
Roaring like a lion, he grabbed his subordinate's head with his mechanical left hand and crushed it like a sponge.
"Gaaahk!!"
Splat! Blood and brains sprayed. The headless corpse slumped.
Panting, he simmered down enough to think. Glancing at the glitching monitor:
-51%
Yesterday: +25%. Today: -51%. Principal halved.
"This... this is real money!!"
As a drug lord, he had plenty of dirty cash, but clean money was scarce. Laundering evaporated tons, bribes took more—what stayed in his pocket was meager.
Real Production held his freshly laundered funds, invested on "expert" advice as the hottest tip. And now... in one day...
No time to react. Market opened, stock melted. His panic sells accelerated the plunge, trapping huge capital.
If liquidated? Worst case, short on monthly tributes—which demand clean cash.
He summoned another subordinate.
"Tomorrow's stock outlook."
"..."
They hesitated, then:
"...Margin calls and panic selling expected... further drops—"
Bang! Gun barrel from his left hand blew the head off.
"You? Your take?"
"W-Well...! If we sell off right at open—"
Bang! Another head explodes.
He eyed the next. Pale-faced, the man yelled:
"T-Tomorrow, sentiment stabilizes, price rebounds—"
"Don't lie."
Bang! Head gone.
Three subordinates dead. No answers. He knew it.
Sitting in a surviving chair, he reached for his cigar—drawer collapsed. Sigh. Expensive one.
Nothing going right. He called a trusted aide—no killing this one.
"Real Production CEO. Bring him."
"We looked, but he's vanished."
"200k troops and you can't snag one guy?!!"
"...Sorry. Different city—hard to intervene."
"Hoo... Fine. Bounty then."
"...Yes."
And so, a massive bounty hit Real Production's CEO's head.