Slave 1: Really, You Don't Have to Go?
"Really, you don't have to go?"
My phone buzzed. It was a message from Mom.
"S-Sorry. My mom just..."
"No, it's fine. Take care of it."
I excused myself and immediately tapped out a reply on my phone.
Big money had come my way. The first thing I did was send my parents on an overseas trip.
Mom would occasionally tease, "When's our Yoon-woo gonna send us abroad?" But even as she said it, her eyes held no real expectation.
She knew it. I knew it too. That I wasn't the type to make that kind of cash.
No matter what I did for my parents, when you looked at the "family assets" as a whole, it was always a net loss. Even if I kept saving from now on, their assets, salary, and pension would always outpace what I could scrape together. Factor in inheritance someday, and my own earnings were better off just parked in savings.
I felt sorry. Not for failing to give them something—it was normal at my mid-twenties age to receive more than give. Still, I'd been handed opportunities way beyond my station.
If I'd said I wanted to go to cram school, they'd have happily footed the bill. I'd gotten more than enough allowance to skip part-time jobs.
I'd taken it all and done jack squat. Sure, I'd landed a job at a small company with no specs—just sheer luck—but I couldn't hack it and quit after a few months.
I could've done more. Lived better.
Even if raking in big bucks wasn't the key to happiness, I could've at least given my parents the peace of mind that their son wouldn't be scraping by penniless...
I hadn't because I simply hadn't tried. No excuses.
If only I'd studied a bit earlier. After college, if I'd seriously pondered my future. After the army, if I'd deeply considered what I wanted...
Then I wouldn't have desperately applied to random companies just to make ends meet when "I had no choice but to earn."
But that was all pointless now.
No need for a good company anymore. No drive to study or build specs. No regret for failing to do so.
The day after I stopped commuting, I realized I didn't need to set an alarm.
No job meant no reason to wake up. Hunger, thirst, boredom—the only thing that stirred me first was the urge to hit the bathroom.
If I hadn't had that tax accountant meeting today, I probably wouldn't have even shaved.
Nothing to do. I'd already lost the desperation to keep going to the office, and now even the urgency for a new job was gone.
"Sir?"
"Ah, yes."
Sorry. This wasn't the time to get lost in thought.
"My apologies. I... haven't been right in the head lately. It's just so huge."
"No worries. I get it. When a young guy hits it big, it's natural to feel all fluttery inside."
The tax accountant across from me smiled faintly, looking every bit the friendly uncle.
"I still can't calm down."
"Same here. I walked in tense with the massive sum in mind... but there's nothing to do."
"That little?"
"For a regular person with this amount? Hell, individuals don't even hire accountants for this. Not even chaebol chairmen would."
He shook his head.
"Anyway, usually when someone calls a tax guy for big personal money, it's inheritance or gift tax issues..."
"Tougher stuff?"
"Yeah, 'cause they're savvy clients. If my advice doesn't match what they want, it's tricky."
"Ah..."
"But you made it all in coins, so no income tax."
"I see..."
I hadn't known that. I nodded slowly.
"You didn't know? The bill's stalled again—another three years at least. Figured you'd know since you made a killing on coins."
"Well..."
"How'd you amass all these coins then?"
"I played a game."
"Ah, yeah? The game gives coins or something?"
"...Something like that."
Not a topic I wanted to dwell on.
"Anyway, nothing to discuss right now. We can meet again later."
"What about taxes?"
"Told you—coins have no income tax. No taxes, period."
"But with all that cash piled in my account, there must be taxes on..."
"Money itself isn't taxed."
"...Pardon?"
I held my breath as he explained.
"Currency only creates value when you spend it in exchange. That's when consumption tax kicks in. Stock profits? Capital gains tax. You get it."
All I had right now was a mountain of cash.
"You're planning to invest, right?"
"Yeah... Funds, stocks, deposits..."
I'd have to study up. Or maybe not even need to.
A thousandth of what I had now would buy everything I wanted till I died.
"Modest, huh? First time someone's come with this much and acted like a regular young guy."
"Just a regular young guy."
"Anyway... Once you do all that—funds, stocks, deposits. Buy real estate. Acquire a company you like. Then I'll have work."
I nodded slowly.
I'd heard lotto winners get hammered on taxes, so I'd figured coin profits would take a big bite too. Even half—or a tenth—left would suffice, but it looked like I'd keep every won in my account.
"No tax-saving steps I need to take separately?"
"Obviously not... Wait, almost forgot. You're so young, I... Yeah, there is one."
He chuckled awkwardly.
"Tax on your total assets, calculated dumbly on holdings."
"Ah, so? Due now?"
"Nah, not income tax due immediately. It's annual... Know the singleton tax? Young folks gripe about it a lot."
"...Yeah."
Korea's low birthrate was critically bad—past critical, really.
"Married folks? Pocket change. Singles like you? It stings."
"...True."
It was designed to kill bachelors. Built on "inhumane treatment" premises. Form a family, have kids—or else. A draconian measure that only stuck thanks to overwhelming support, and even that got halved.
Things had quieted now, but I remembered the fierce backlash from opposition and citizens.
"Got a girlfriend?"
"No. None."
"Sigh... That's a shame."
He looked troubled.
"Handsome face too. Really none? No close female friends?"
"Yeah. Not the social type."
Few friends in college, all work after. Free time? Gaming. No chance to meet people.
"Look, with that money, you could hit clubs, go on blind dates, marriage agencies."
"Ah..."
"But as an adult—not your accountant—it's risky."
"Is it?"
"Sudden wealth, right?"
"Yep."
"Even people from broke days can be dicey. Post-money? Worse."
"..."
"Amount's insane. Turns heads."
I knew his worry.
"Fine now, but years later, asset split? Nightmare."
"Half's still plenty..."
Joking, but true. Three marriages and divorces taking 1/8th? Wouldn't crimp my style. Thirty years of singleton tax? Similar hit.
It scaled with assets, not fixed.
"Fair point, but heartbreak's real. Love, family... Shattering that's no small thing."
"Ah..."
"Deal with rich folks much—hear all kinds of stories, good and bad."
Realizing the one you love only wanted your money... What a gut punch.
"Court? Dirty laundry, evidence wars. Tough to hear, let alone live."
"Guess I'll just pay the asset tax?"
Couldn't fathom it. Didn't want to.
"Buying a slave might be better."
The tax accountant looked at me with genuine concern, earnestly advising on my future.