A Sense of Déjà Vu
Park Seonggeun, the manager of Uto Gym, was taken aback by the owner’s sudden announcement.
“What? You sold it?”
“Yeah.”
“...”
He was past surprised now; he was downright dumbfounded.
He already knew business had been rough lately, with the recession and the competition from the nearby gyms squeezing Uto Gym hard, but still...
This was far too sudden.
At the very least, hadn’t he owed them a warning before selling?
That was the least he could do for the employees who had been working their asses off for the gym.
“No, I mean, at least give us a heads-up before—”
“It was such a sudden offer I didn’t even have time to tell you.”
“...”
“Still, he seems like a good person, so don’t worry too much.”
“...”
Was that supposed to be comforting? There had to be a limit, even when things were urgent.
If there was any silver lining at all, it was that, according to the owner, the new owner had said staff changes wouldn’t happen for the time being.
But that was still only the least terrible option in a sea of terrible options.
There was no telling how things might change as time went on.
What was the point of talking to the old man any further? He didn’t even have basic manners.
For now, he soothed the employees and trainers, since they’d all be shocked by the sudden news.
These were people who had stayed loyal even while the gym was struggling. He had to do his best, too.
It was the day the new owner was supposed to visit.
He tried his hardest to shake off his nerves, but it wasn’t easy.
“Phew...”
A little while later, the new owner arrived.
His appearance was so unexpected that Seonggeun froze. He had been expecting someone in their mid- to late thirties, maybe even late forties.
They hadn’t even spoken yet, but...
Just from looking at him, he seemed to be in his early twenties.
He was so baby-faced it was almost shocking.
Even so, he didn’t let it show.
After exchanging brief greetings with the new owner, he quietly followed as the man began touring the gym.
Then, before long, the new owner said something that was hard to make sense of.
Compete?
He was talking about competing with Neo Gym, the place that had driven Uto Gym downhill.
If he had said that plainly, Seonggeun would have been baffled by the grandiose ambition alone.
But when that absurd ambition came attached to absurd conditions, he couldn’t help but be thrown off balance.
The man said there was no limit to the budget.
“If there’s no limit...”
Seonggeun looked at him differently now. Maybe he really was in his early twenties after all.
And yet he spoke with no hint of awkwardness. It didn’t sound like a lofty dream; it sounded like an order.
Besides, if someone in their early twenties had bought this gym, then they were either born rich or a freakish self-made success.
Either way, that was still better than some clueless older guy in his late thirties or forties buying it without knowing what he was doing.
“May I ask what the cap is?”
“I just said there isn’t one. Instead, I want us to absolutely crush the competition.”
“...If there’s no cap, then I don’t see how we could possibly lose.”
“I’m trusting you with it.”
“Yes, sir!”
“First, hire more staff, bring cleanliness up to the highest standard, and completely renovate the showers and the rest of the facilities. Also raise the trainers’ base pay, and while the construction is going on, keep paying them their base salary...”
“...”
He had expected it after hearing the first part. So he really was serious.
But he never could have imagined it would be to this extent.
This was...
He has no intention of making money at all...
The new owner didn’t seem to have any intention of profiting from the gym whatsoever.
His only goal seemed to be winning the competition, even if it meant spending even more money to do it.
Just you wait.
He had no fond feelings for Neo Gym either.
They hadn’t competed fairly; they’d bullied Uto Gym with chicken-game pricing and weird rumors.
Now it was time for the tables to turn.
The junker was gone, and a Mercedes had arrived.
No.
The junker was gone, and a Rolls-Royce had arrived.
Lee Deokhwa had dropped by the gym for a bit.
One of the employees brought him some new information.
“Boss, I heard Uto Gym’s owner sold the place to someone else this time.”
“Sold it? So he’s finally given up, huh. Still, I’ll give him this much—he sure held out like hell despite having nothing to his name.”
It had taken a while for the news to reach him, but he couldn’t deny it was welcome.
If that place went under, there would practically be no gyms left in the area. And if there were any, they’d only be tiny ones—not proper large gyms. Or they’d just be the community fitness rooms in apartments or officetels.
“Let’s start watching the market and get ready to raise prices. We’ve taken losses long enough fighting this chicken game.”
“...That won’t be easy. If we raise prices even a little, people push back hard...”
“And who doesn’t know that? That’s why we took losses and played chicken in the first place. What, we’re just supposed to sit there and take it? You need a backup plan for that kind of thing.”
“...”
“Most of the members here came because they wanted a big gym. Now that their alternatives are gone, they have no choice but to come here. Prices go up when costs go up. That’s just common sense.”
It was only natural. What, did someone think business was done by digging money out of the ground?
When you’re running a business, where are the losses supposed to come from?
The existing members had already gotten plenty of benefits all this time, so it was only right they pay back what they owed.
“By the way, seems like someone else bought the gym.”
“They probably smelled how doomed it was and lured someone in with sweet talk. I bet the buyer will figure out the reality and regret it until he’s pounding the ground.”
“Yes...”
“There’s nothing more to say. Anyone dumb enough to spend money buying a dead gym isn’t worth worrying about. In Korea, if you get scammed, that’s your own fault for being stupid.”
There was nothing else to discuss. Anyone with the brains to waste money on a ruined gym wasn’t even worth paying attention to.
He might as well treat them like they didn’t exist.
After telling the employee there was no need to worry about it—
“Yujin looks pretty as always today.”
“...Yes, boss.”
“You heard that other gym went under, right? Do a good job. There’s nowhere better than our gym.”
“Understood.”
“Good.”
He looked Yujin up and down. She really was pretty. He almost found himself licking his lips without meaning to.
Hah. I should take a shot at her during the group vacation soon.
If he got her drunk, what could she possibly do about it?
All he had to do was set the mood so she couldn’t avoid drinking.
“And Minseok?”
“He said he was taking today off too.”
“I see. By the way, there’s that guy in his early twenties among your members, right? He seemed to have gotten into a bit of a fight with Minseok.”
“Yes...”
“Try to push him out as much as possible. If it comes to it, we can even refund him. Just give him around a ten percent discount on the excuse that we already gave him a discount.”
“...”
“What kind of nobody comes all the way to the boss’s office and wastes my precious time? When you’re teaching him his exercises, you don’t need to go easy on him. Make him as uncomfortable as possible.”
“...”
“Answer me.”
“...Yes.”
Thinking of that little brat who had been acting cocky in the boss’s office made him want to laugh.
What was there to be so proud of, spending less than a million won?
Maybe that was a lot of money to a beggar, but to him it was nothing.
He absolutely hated the way the kid had acted, as though spending that little money put him on equal footing with him.
So damn smug.
Then again, from a beggar’s point of view, one million won really would be a huge sum.
“If you understand, do your job properly. I’m leaving.”
“...Yes.”
After giving his instructions, he headed out.
Lately, everything seemed to be going smoothly, and that put him in a good mood.
I gave instructions to the manager at the gym I’d acquired.
Rip out the entire interior and replace every single machine with brand-new ones.
Hire more staff and improve how they were treated.
At the same time, since the entire floor above us was vacant, I decided to expand the gym into it.
It wouldn’t cost that much. All told, maybe under two billion won.
“Please take care on your way out!”
“Yes. And thank you for your hard work.”
At first, the manager had looked at me with a startled expression.
But after I finished laying out my plans, he was looking at me with total trust.
I intended to live up to that trust, so I didn’t find it burdensome at all.
After leaving the gym, I headed back to Signiel Penthouse.
It would take some time to spruce the place up. At the longest, it would be done in two months.
Most of it would be finished within a month, though.
I planned to shorten the construction period as much as possible, even if it meant paying more.
That was how much I disliked the look the owner had given me.
Like he was looking at some bug, maybe.
For now...
If I was spending money, then I needed to make money, too.
Expanding the gym and competing fairly was just a kind of amusement; I had to focus on my main business.
So now I was done with the coin market and looking at the stock market.
All the indicators, of course, and the charts too.
And the reports that had come in from the employees at the investment firm, who had started commuting to the office.
Then, in the middle of all that—
“Hmm...”
I felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
I’d felt it before. The same uncanny sensation I got when I was about to make a lot of money.
Of course, the coin market and the stock market could be different.
But even when I’d made a fortune in crypto, I hadn’t really understood the coin market all that well either.
This wasn’t a sense of déjà vu born from knowledge or experience. It was pure instinct.
“Let’s do it.”
If I had a personal philosophy in life, it was to try things and regret them later.
That had helped me grow this far.
This time would be the same.
I planned to make aggressive investments in the futures and options markets.
Even if I was wrong, it was fine. I still had a hundred billion won left.
The sense of déjà vu I was feeling...
It wasn’t something I found in the charts or the stock market.
The movement of the U.S. government looked suspicious.
Thank God I had employees.
I gave the orders.
Prepare investments in the futures and options markets to brace for a major drop.
Go all in.
And the fear index too.
This investment might end up being even more extreme than the one I’d made in the coin market.
And yet...
“Every time I’ve done that, I made money.”
Strangely enough, every time I’d gone extreme, I’d ended up making even bigger profits.