Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Plan
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Then, does Ji-hoon really hate women?
No.
It would be more accurate to say he actually likes them quite a bit.
So why on earth was he acting in such an extreme way?
There were two main reasons.
The first was resentment toward an unfair system.
The hypocrisy of modern women who cherry-pick the sweet parts of the patriarchal system when getting married, only to reject it entirely after marriage.
They take it for granted that the man brings the house, and the woman brings the dowry.
But after marriage, they throw tantrums like, "Am I some kind of rice-making machine?"
Ji-hoon couldn't stand that double standard.
The irrationality of the divorce system was its peak.
In a reality where a spouse clearly at fault for breaking up the family could still take the man's assets just for having lived together.
Ji-hoon had had enough of that absurd system that didn't distinguish right from wrong.
The second reason was very simple.
It was just fun.
In the past, when he preached about the joys of married life and mocked the Stock Gallery users, their reactions were dull.
"What a retard throwing another fit lol."
"Yeah, as long as you're happy."
Most reactions were like that, treating him like some pitiful fool.
But the women who invaded the Gallery were different.
Their reactions were hilariously on point.
Scratch them, and they scratched back with all sorts of curses, maledictions, and venom.
Now he understood why in the 80s, unmarried women over 30 were socially ostracized.
Just bringing up age or marriage made them freak out, and it was just so damn entertaining.
But Ji-hoon knew.
That rampaging around in the Gallery like this would just look to others like the typical cry of a pathetic Korean guy.
If he was going to troll, he had to do it properly.
He made up his mind.
'I'll definitely become famous and troll them like crazy.'
Because the weight of a word from an ordinary citizen and one from a celebrity drawing everyone's attention was worlds apart.
"Oh my god... what the hell is going on?"
I was checking the monitor with trembling hands.
I'd sent all the immigration paperwork to the lawyer.
Now all that was left was waiting at least three months.
With all the preparations, I'd delayed selling the coins.
But what was this?
I logged into the exchange today planning to sell everything, and my assets had risen 60%.
'No way it rises this much in such a short time?'
I hurriedly searched internet news.
The reason was a double boost from the 'halving' and expectations of US interest rate cuts.
The coin I'd bought at 30 million won each was now trading at 48 million won.
The charts were filled with towering red candles.
It was a full-on bull market.
The Coin Gallery must be in full festival mode.
'The coin market's on fire here! Firefighters! Over here!'
My shoulders were dancing on their own.
Since my family was well-off, I'd never touched gambling, stocks, or coins in my life.
'Ah... so this is what it feels like to make money.'
The thrilling rush of dopamine flooding my brain.
Not bad at all.
I hit the 'sell all' button without hesitation.
Riding the bull market, my 50 coins sold out in seconds.
And in my account appeared an unbelievable number.
Principal: 1.5 billion won.
It had turned into exactly 2.4 billion won.
I'd made 900 million won just sitting on my ass.
Fortunately, Korea still had no crypto income tax.
I took advantage of that and dumped all the coins before heading to the US.
This windfall seed money was a great bonus.
I went straight to see my father.
"...So you're saying you made 900 million? In just one month?"
Dad stared at me in disbelief.
Even he couldn't believe this sudden stroke of luck.
He cleared his throat and asked,
"So... you came to pay me back?"
I grinned cheekily.
"Come on, Dad. I'll deposit the interest on time, so don't worry."
At my words, he made a 'figures' face.
"Tch. You're not here to brag, so what is it?"
"Oh! There's something I really need to ask you."
"What now?"
"Haha, nothing big. When I go to the US, I want to get some food supplies from Korea. Especially our house's homemade soybean paste—it's a must."
"You punk, we don't even have enough for Korea, let alone shipping to the US!"
Dad shot it down flat.
But I didn't give up.
"Dad, please, just for two years. I'll figure out local production there within two years. Okay?"
At my persistent begging, Dad sighed deeply.
"Now you're trying to wear out your old man. We can't magically make more stock. Your mom's shop needs it too. I'll source the best quality I can through my contacts and ship it—just two years."
"Yes! Thank you, Dad!"
"Tch tch... So, when are you leaving?"
"Hmm... Probably within a month?"
"All preparations done?"
"Of course!"
Dad looked skeptical at my confident reply, but what could he do? He'd already agreed.
And so all preparations wrapped up smoothly.
Time flew by.
Before I knew it, I was two days from leaving Korea.
During a consultation, a sudden question popped into my head, and I asked the lawyer.
"Wait a sec, Lawyer. So... the E-2 visa isn't permanent residency—it's just a 'non-immigrant visa' for staying during business operations, right?"
The lawyer adjusted his glasses and replied,
"Yes, you've understood correctly. In your situation where the visa absolutely had to come through in a year, this was the only way. You prioritized the 'fastest path.' Of course, there are ways to get permanent residency by continuing to operate the business."
'Hmm... a bit tricky.'
The lack of permanent residency nagged at me.
But what could I do?
There was no other way to leave Korea in a year.
I steeled myself and asked again.
"Then, among those methods, tell me the fastest way to get permanent residency or citizenship."
The lawyer paused, then chuckled.
"The fastest and surest way? Obviously, marrying a US citizen."
Marriage.
Hearing that word, I couldn't hold back and yelled,
"No, Lawyer! I came all this way after divorcing because I didn't want to split assets, and now you're telling me to marry again!?"
At my outburst, the lawyer stayed calm and smiled leisurely.
"Calm down, sir. Korea and the US are different. In the US, 'prenuptial agreements'—or 'prenups'—are fully legally recognized. Clearly define property rights before marriage, and even if you divorce, your assets stay safe."
His words tempted me for a moment, but I didn't want to trust a woman ever again.
Reading my face, he cautiously added,
"Or... it's a bit illegal, but a sham marriage is an option. Pay a US citizen to marry on paper only, get residency, then divorce cleanly."
His bold statement made my eyes widen.
He lowered his voice and continued.
"Of course, if the sham is discovered, you lose residency and everything. So thorough preparation is key. First, steadily build evidence of married life: joint photos, shared bank accounts, neighbor testimonies. Enough to withstand surprise immigration inspections. Second, maintain the marriage at least two years after getting residency. Divorce right away screams 'fraud.' Wait two years, then divorce quietly for 'irreconcilable differences'—that's safest."
I sat there speechless the whole explanation.
This was straight-up crime consulting.
But at the same time, I was impressed by his expertise once more.
"Think it over carefully, sir. Every path has clear pros and cons."
The lawyer kindly and clearly explained the legal options.
"The main ones are two. First, successfully run the business and sponsor yourself as key personnel. Prove the business benefits the US economy and you're irreplaceable for EB-1 or NIW employment-based green cards. Success means fastest and surest."
"Second, expand the business to meet EB-5 investment criteria. For example, scale up to hire 10+ full-timers, then adjust from E-2 to EB-5. Takes longer, but stable if you prove funds. Citizenship requires at least five years after green card—that's far in the future."
After the consultation, I headed home.
A few days earlier, through my maternal uncle, I'd gotten an intro to a US local lawyer.
Now I had to choose my new home base.
After researching countless cities, I settled on one.
Downtown Berkeley, in Northern California near UC Berkeley.
Why California? Clear reason.
To showcase Dad's 'soybean paste flavor' in the US, I needed an environment to make it.
Among US states, California's climate and water were most like Korea's.
The basics of good paste: good water, sunlight, and wind.
Of course, I could import all ingredients from Korea.
But importing food to the US incurs about 15% tariffs.
Costs could exceed profits.
Long-term, better to grow and produce locally.
The issue was money.
I checked Berkeley housing prices and commercial rents online, and was shocked.
Median home sale price: about $1.3 million.
Over 17 billion won? No, 1.3M USD is about 1.8 billion KRW, but anyway, huge.
I could buy if I wanted, but why a big house for one person?
A small apartment suitable for solo living rented for about $2,500/month.
So I decided to rent.
Shop rent: For a ~1,000 sq ft space in downtown Berkeley, varied by location, but average $38/sq ft/year.
That's about $3,200/month, over 4.2 million won just in rent.
'Ah... this is why they rave about America.'
Biting back tears, I set my first settlement there.
Berkeley's cost of living was murderous.
Even roughly, rent, utilities, insurance—fixed costs nearly 7 million won/month just to breathe.
But I wasn't too worried.
Big expenses mean big earnings too.
Average American meal: about 30,000 won.
With 4.2M rent, assuming decent customers, 3-4 busy days covers it and more.
That eased my mind.
"So, what kind of restaurant to open?"
I spread out a Berkeley map for market analysis.
Right next door: UC Berkeley.
Tens of thousands of students and staff at a world-class university.
Huge parks like Tilden Park and Botanical Garden nearby.
Cultural spots like Phoebe Hearst Anthropology Museum, Berkeley Art Museum.
Landmark Berkeley Marina too.
Plus, 30 min by BART to San Francisco and Silicon Valley.
'If word spreads right... jackpot.'
I was convinced.
Here, my plan would succeed.
And the restaurant for my first step was...
A bapsang house.
The most Korean, truest to basics, and best to showcase Dad's paste flavor.
I'd conquer American tastebuds with bapsang.