Crypto Jackpot and Camgirl Initiation
“Fuck, I must be out of my mind... What the hell was I thinking...”
I clutched my head, drowning in deep regret over the emotional impulse I'd just acted on. I'd cranked the leverage up to 50x and gone all-in on a short. That insane profit potential meant I could lose my entire fortune in just minutes—a high-risk, high-reward gamble where I'd dumped every last won and now beat myself up over it.
And by “every last won,” I mean the roughly 13 billion won I'd just claimed from a lottery jackpot. Abandoned as a baby at an orphanage by my parents, stuck with a scumbag director who pocketed government funds, bullied relentlessly through school, and slaving away as day labor for three years after turning adult—my life had been pure shit. I'd cursed God every single day, and then this heavenly lottery luck had dropped into my lap. And now I was pissing it away like this.
“Ughhhh—!!!!”
For a short to pay off, the coin's price needed to drop from the moment I entered. A long wins if it rises. Anyway, fucking hell, I should've gone long. With 50x leverage, even a 1% rise wipes out 50% of my assets. In other words, three minutes after dumping in 13 billion won, half my stack was gone.
“Ah... Ahh...”
If I'd just bought a house with the lottery cash and lived a decent life... But no, I got suckered by those YouTube stories about getting rich off leverage bullshit. Why the fuck did I do it? Was it the champagne high from feeling like a baller? Or that little devil inside whispering, It's just free lottery money anyway—use it to flip your life~?
Too late for regrets now. A wave of arrogant thoughts crashed over me. I'd already lost half, but should I pull out the rest...? I wrestled with that a dozen times. But the dice were rolled, the bet placed.
“...”
I quietly closed the coin charts. Whatever happened, it was just another day in my hopeless mayfly existence. Fuck it, might as well crash and sleep. Who knows—maybe I'd wake up to it delisted. Clinging to that vague hope, I crawled into bed.
*
A week had passed since I'd gone all-in on leveraged crypto. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I saw wild stubble sprouting everywhere, eyes glazed and unfocused. Days without a shower left my hair greasy and matted, my face slick with oil. Cracked lips, hands trembling as much as my phone's notifications.
Checking it, I saw it was my day labor foreman, Choi Cheol-gyu. He'd probably blown up after I ghosted work for a week. But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.
This asshole had called me useless, orphan scum, welfare leech, slapping every insult in the book onto me daily. I picked up.
“Hey! You crazy fuck Shin Jun-seo! Where the hell you been, no-showing for days?! You have any idea how fucked we are without you?!”
“Then convert me to contract ages ago instead of grinding me as day labor every time. Now you're saying you're screwed without me? Fuck you, you always ragged on me, but guess I was pulling contract-level weight after all.”
“?! You little shit... Look at you talking big? You lost it? Get your ass here now! I took pity on a beggar like you and—”
“Yeah, fuck off, I'm done~ You keep slaving away~”
“What?! You son of a—”
I wanted to unload more, but hung up instead. The prick lived with curses on his lips, and I'd endured endless humiliation from him. But those same rants had finally pushed me to quit life altogether, so I'd call it even here.
“Heh heh heh heh...”
A mad cackle escaped me unbidden. Grinning ear to ear, I fired up the app and checked my account.
130,477,851,106 won
Eyes strained just counting the zeros. A 23-year-old day laborer had become a 130-billion-won billionaire overnight.
. . . . . .
“So... what the hell do I do now?”
Freshly showered and shaved for the first time in ages, I muttered at the ceiling, belly full of ennui. The past week glued to my PC, shorting and longing like a maniac, beginner's luck or some ghost guiding me—every play exploded. Pumped the seed to 50 billion, then hunkered down on a short. Turns out the coin's CEO got busted for crimes, tanking it to delisting levels. I cashed out 130 billion and closed everything.
No more day labor, no need for any job. But with no hobbies, I was bored out of my skull.
Life's all indulgence from here—maybe find something fun...
School trauma made me a shut-in loner; outdoor stuff sounded miserable, but sitting still was torture. I booted up the internet first. Time to whale on some games.
But before that, hop into streams to scout hot games. Logged into Daltivi.
Main page flooded with streamer thumbnails. About to switch to games category, when one camgirl caught my eye. Around 300 viewers. Thumbnail showed pale skin, killer looks—Ryuna. Tiny face contrasting massive milkers below, fist-sized features.
“Camgirl, huh... Let's check it out.”
Meant to browse games, but curiosity snagged me. Entered Ryuna's room.
“Me? You like my hair color? Heh heh heh~♡ Thank youuu♡”
She flashed a fox-like grin, enchanting viewers. Ocean-blue hair she pulled off flawlessly—girl power on steroids. Meant to dip quick, but I was glued, settling in to appraise her.
Big expressive eyes, sharp provocative gaze. Beyond catgirl—pure vixen. Perky nose, glossy lips that teased through the screen.立体 face from every angle, thin hydrated pout firing up imaginations. Sexy collarbones, heaving cleavage blurring my vision.
“Whoa... She's fucking gorgeous...”
The exclamation slipped out. This is camgirl magic? No wonder dudes turn into cash cows. Screw games—more of this.
Heard camgirls crave Moon Cakes, the platform currency. Fresh off my windfall, I wanted to flex some material influence. No clue how it worked, but left side had menus.
[333-Terminal] [421-Zero Two] [556-Baochi]
. . .
“Hmm... Sig dances? Looks like reaction menus. Not pricey.”
With 130 billion, Moon Cakes at ~10k won per 100? Pocket change. Test run: 421 Zero Two.
“Charge up 10k to start hot... Gift... 421...”
Click. Pop pop pop pop—!
“Eek! Our Shin Jun-seo oppa~ Splashed 421 for fan join♡!”
Ryuna squealed in delight, viewers hyping me up outta nowhere.
Feels good... Good call using my real name as nickname.
Smirking mysteriously, I chatted.
“Zero Two? Of course! See this sig chart next to me~ Gift that many Moon Cakes, and I'll dance my heart out♡ Now, welcome fan join for our Jun-seo oppa—♡!”
Ignoring the broke lurkers' chats, she responded to mine. Felt proud; explained the tiered treatment.
Zero Two track kicked in. Ryuna raised hands overhead, swaying side to side, flaunting curves.
Da ra da da~ Da ra da da~ Da ra da da ding da!
“Haah♡! Hng... Hnng... Hnnghh...♡! Hah♡!”
Slosh slosh—♡!
Started with arms up, clean pits and lines on display. Beat shifted: bent forward, arms down squeezing cleavage, hips twerking wildly.
“Holy shit... Face is top-tier, but that body... Face could be filters, but those curves... Fuu...”
Her figure was cartoonish—even bent over, massive hips/ass made the shake visible from behind. Standing revealed short stature, but that reverse appeal drove me nuts. Petite proportions with killer ratios? Pure protective instinct bait.
By the time Zero Two wrapped, I was losing it. Ryuna panted back to her seat.
“Haa... Haa... Haa..♡ Aww, so tiring..♡ Thanks for the fan join, Jun-seo oppa..♡ Come play anytime♡”
“...”
Enthralled by her vixen act, my eyes drifted to the bottom: Hotblood Fan tier unlocks KakaoTalk swap, private bikini pics, coffee dates.
“Coffee? What about dinner? Whatever. Gotta see that bikini first...”
Looked like I'd found the honeyed hobby to melt my new life away.