After Winning the Powerball, a Trillion Won Fell Into My Lap
While traveling in the United States, I won first prize in a record-shattering Powerball drawing.
A Powerball ticket I'd bought without a second thought during a trip to Maryland. The after-tax payout came to a staggering 750 million dollars. In Korean money, a jackpot worth an actual take-home of one trillion won. Better yet, I could claim it anonymously, so I never had to show my face or my name to the world.
A trillion won. I was a man with a trillion won to his name now.
Strangely, I didn't feel giddy at all. The jackpot was probably too unreal to register as real. All the time I'd once wasted on useless daydreams—what would I do with my life if a windfall like crypto or a lottery ticket suddenly struck—turned out to be a genuine help now.
I hired a lawyer and an international tax accountant and saw everything through to the end: collecting the winnings, settling the taxes, wiring the money home to Korea. I spread the trillion across US Treasuries, high-grade bonds, dividend stocks, REITs, and the like, and tuned the setup so that after income tax on the returns, 2.5 billion won landed in my account every month as living expenses. In other words, I had finished building a financial plan that let the trillion-won principal keep multiplying even as I blew through 2.5 billion a month without a care.
"So. What do I do now?"
From claiming the prize to paying the taxes, remitting it all to Korea, and building the investment portfolio—the tension of walking on thin ice finally drained away, and an enormous wave of exhaustion rolled in to take its place.
A message from Cha Yuna, my childhood friend who lived in the apartment building next door. Unlike me—the boy who'd flunked his entrance exams—she'd gone on to a prestigious Seoul university, where she was currently being flattened by the endless cycle of assignments. My platonic female friend. On impulse, I fired back a reply.
They say the thing lottery winners struggle most to resist is the urge to brag. For the first time, I understood that feeling. But I swallowed the urge. Tossing my phone aside, I stretched out on the bed and began plotting what to do with the rest of my life—until the laughter burst out of me before I could stop it.
"A job with fucking insane pay, that's right. A bum with money is still technically employed, isn't he?"
First on the list was securing an officetel at Jamsil Tower Signature Residence—the largest unit, 991 square meters. As for the apartment my parents had left me, I decided to keep it rather than sell. Too many memories there.
Day after day I made the rounds of Gangnam's famous clubs and bars, burning money like it was nothing, and sure enough, every variety of pretty woman came drifting my way. But they were all sluts, so penetration was the one line I never crossed. Even with a condom on, it would have felt filthy.
"Hey, I told you—no going inside. Mouth only."
"Aw, why? Oppa, I want it inside too. Just wear a condom, come on, a condom."
"How would we know neither of us has something? Just finish me off with your mouth."
"Ugh, seriously."
Naked beauties took turns going down on me. I kneaded their tits, sucked them, kissed them—and every session ended with me finishing in a mouth. Believe me, I would have loved to bury myself in a pussy, but I couldn't shake the fear of catching something off these sluts.
"Good work tonight, ladies. Here's your allowance."
"Kyaaa! Thank you!"
"Thanks, oppa!"
The moment I showered them with bundles of cash, they went scampering around in the nude, too busy snatching up bills to bother with anything else. I watched the spectacle blankly for a while, then flopped onto my back—and they all came rushing over to knead my body, diligently sucking and stroking my still-angry cock.
Somewhere in all that, I got to know a broker.
"Boss, let me connect you with one absolutely killer girl."
He was in his thirties, old enough to be well past me in years, yet before me he bowed his head with scrupulous courtesy. Such is the power of money.
"She's a yeocam doing very well on Junglerica's live rankings these days. What do you say?"
"Hello, I'm BJ Seo-hye."
"Not bad. You can head out, Manager."
"Yes, boss. Enjoy your evening."
A streaming BJ said to command the highest rates of any sexy yeocam took my virginity. Her face and body alone were absolute top-tier, so I had no complaints. Better still, she came armed with an STD-free certificate, which meant I could take her bare and empty myself inside her pussy as much as I liked.
"Oppa, should I bring some of my friends next time? You'd only need to pay them about a third of what you give me."
"And in exchange, I give you...?"
"Ehehe..."
"Fine, fine. Then show me some of your videos. Anything with editing or filters doesn't count."
"Of course, of course."
Thanks to my first yeocam hauling her friends along every single time, I feasted without end, day after day. Every one of them arrived with a fresh STD certificate in hand. I never brought any of them back to the Jamsil Tower officetel, though—I was reluctant to expose my home.
Then one day, the yeocam who had taken my virginity scrubbed away every trace of herself and vanished. She'd borrowed a small fortune from everyone around her, found the weight unbearable, and gone into hiding.
Not one of these bitches can be trusted.
Not that I lost anything—I paid on the spot every time, settling up after the meal was finished, so to speak. And I'd already collected every other yeocam's number, so one bitch going under hardly put a damper on my fun. My only regret was never getting to savor that luscious body again.
I kept my broker connections simmering, too.
"Boss, how would you like to raise an idol trainee this time?"
"A trainee?"
"She's with a small agency, and she's completely untouched—not a speck of dirt on her. Lovely look, too."
"She's still a girl selling her body for money either way. Bring her over."
"Yes, boss."
And so, for the first time, I devoured an idol trainee.
"I-I'm Hong Seo-eun... Please take good care of me..."
A willowy frame, 170 centimeters tall. Her eyes looked one blink away from spilling over with tears—striking, certainly, but in the end it had to be acting.
"It hurts... ah... ahh..."
"You... you really were a virgin?"
Astonishingly, she was that rarest of treasures: an actual virgin. That a girl this beautiful had kept her hymen intact all the way to twenty left me stunned. Blame it on my being a man, but a woman who offered me her virginity tugged at something in my chest.
So I entered into a serious sponsorship arrangement with her: no other men, and a fixed sum paid regularly every month. Whenever we met, Hong Seo-eun gave her all like some obedient girlfriend, and I fell deep into her body—so deep that for a while I kept every other woman far away.
But every beginning has its end.
"Um... I'm debuting soon."
"I thought your company had no money?"
"I got sold to a major agency. They're putting me in their debut lineup."
"So... tonight is the last time, then?"
"I'm sorry. Thank you for everything."
It left a hollow ache, but then, a goodbye this courteous was more than I had any right to expect. I spent the whole night wringing every last drop of my desire out inside Hong Seo-eun's pussy, and she took all of it with everything she had.
The next morning, as we dressed to part—
"I won't be the one to reach out first. Call me sometime, if I cross your mind."
"...I'm sorry."
Apologetic to the last, yet drawing a clean, unmistakable line. She seemed the type to land on her feet after debuting, and that set my mind at ease.
Parting like that from the woman whose virginity I'd taken left me restless for a while. After Hong Seo-eun, I went looking for no other woman at all. How should I put it? It was like watching an online game I'd been hopelessly hooked on roll its ending credits—a dull, muffled hollowness. Before long my body would no doubt start itching for a new game, but for now I was still drunk on the afterglow of that ending, unable to pull myself away.
But once the threshold had been raised, my old life looked unbearably shabby. The passably pretty sluts I'd picked up in clubs and bars. The streaming yeocams with loose pussies that had swallowed who knew how many men before me. None of it did anything for me. Nothing pulled.
Hong Seo-eun had given me her body to keep herself afloat, but fixed-term as it was, she had been my woman and mine alone. A virgin, who had known only me. And above all, the most beautiful of any woman I had ever slept with.
So many women's numbers in my phone, and not one of them worth dialing right now.
And that was when it happened.
Cha Yuna
A late-night call from my childhood friend. But then, calling out of nowhere one day and going silent for months at a stretch is exactly what friends do.
"Yo, Cha Yuna. What is it at this hour?"
"Come on, friend, buy me a drink. I'm craving one right now."
"Right now? Fine. Come to wherever I drop a pin."
I pinned my regular whiskey bar—pricey, but it had class, and I frequented the place. Just a gut feeling of mine, but the madam seemed like a former chaebol chairman's mistress.
I arrived first, cracked the whiskey open, and was waiting when Cha Yuna shuffled in, awkward and off balance. Jeans and a white cotton tee—the textbook coed uniform. Such a fresh-faced look was a rare sight in a room like this, and the middle-aged men at the tables swiveled their eyes toward her in unison. And naturally, it wasn't just the clothes. Cha Yuna was a certified stunner who'd fielded more idol and actress casting offers than she could count. In face and figure both, she outclassed even Hong Seo-eun.
"Over here."
"O-oh..."
Cha Yuna scurried to my side and sat down gingerly. Her eyes, flicking every which way, never stopped trembling.
"Hey, this place looks crazy expensive?"
"Relax. I'm not going to suggest we go Dutch."
"You said you got a job—guess you really are doing well for yourself?"
"Well enough that giving up college doesn't sting. Not even a little."
Perhaps my easy confidence took her by surprise, because the look in Cha Yuna's eyes as she studied me changed. We clinked our glasses in silence. It was her first whiskey, and she sputtered at first, but before long the strong, high-proof kick that pricked at her throat had won her over.
"Something on your mind?"
"I... might have to take a leave of absence."
"You've only just finished your first semester. What happened?"
"Something's gone wrong with my family's finances. I'll probably take time off and run myself ragged doing private tutoring. It's not exactly the season to be coasting through university."
With a pedigree like hers, she figured a full-time tutor could clear four or five million won a month at the very least.
"But if I want to become a professor, I can't afford to burn time on a leave. I'm supposed to be sprinting from this very moment. Haah..."
The instant I watched her lips tip back the glass, resignation seeping from every line of them, a craving I had long forgotten stirred awake inside me.
"Cha Yuna. How would you feel about a part-time job?"
"A job? What kind of job?"
"The studio I work at is hiring staff."
"Oh, right—you said you'd found a job with insane pay. That was the studio? What do you shoot there?"
"I'll make sure you get ten million a month. In exchange, you'd only work from Friday evening to Sunday evening. Then you wouldn't need to take a leave at all, would you?"
"...Hey? What kind of studio pays its staff that much money?"
"So—will you do it? Yes or no?"
"It's not some sketchy place, is it? No legitimate outfit pays a rank-and-file employee that kind of money."
"Don't worry. I make more than that myself. It's a field where security and trust matter that much."
"...Which is what, exactly?"
"We produce entertainment content for a very small circle of VIPs. The business of selling a special kind of dopamine to the rich whose money is rotting."
"...And what in the world is this 'entertainment content'?"
The truth is, Cha Yuna is my first love.
And...
"Private sex broadcasts. Live sex shows that only a tiny handful of VIPs are ever allowed to watch."
Back in middle school, I had confessed to Cha Yuna and been shot down...
"You think I'm paying a mere ten million a month to make you do something weird? I'd just have you handle odds and ends."
And right now, I wanted—badly—to fuck my platonic female friend.
Prepared exactly to the recipe that suited my present palate, one with my threshold for debauchery cranked all the way up.
