The Billionaire's Greatest Fear
What do people with billions worry about most? Their health. The terror of dying before they can even enjoy the fortune they've sweated blood for. But reality is cruel. Humans vary wildly in talent and wealth, sure. Lifespans? Not so much. It's the same for the homeless guy at the subway station, your average office drone, or even the chairman of a massive conglomerate. Just a question of who kicks the bucket first.
That's why, since ancient times, those who've amassed power and riches have desperately tried to buy their way out of this harsh truth. China's first unifier, Emperor Qin Shi Huang, obsessed over the mythical elixir of immortality for the same reason. And Han Se-jin, chairman of Hanlim Group, was no different.
"Chairman, he's on his way up now."
"......"
At 83 years old, the man who'd built an empire with a robust body was now frail, confined to a wheelchair. His trembling hand shook as he lifted the teacup for a sip. Tremble, tremble...
A moment later.
Knock knock.
"Ch-Chairman. This is Director Park Tae-soo."
"......Come in."
As the chairman's gravelly voice granted permission, the lounge door swung open, and two men entered. One bowed deeply to Chairman Han Se-jin with a tense smile. The other—a hulking figure easily over 190cm—stood blankly beside the hospital director. The man wore a hood pulled low and a mask concealing his face.
"Park, my good doctor."
"Yes, Chairman."
"Would you mind stepping out for a bit?"
"Pardon? Ah, yes! Call if you need anything!"
The hospital director scurried out like an obedient secretary at the chairman's request.
Thud.
Now the lounge held only Chairman Han Se-jin, Secretary General Yoo Hyun-woo, and the mysterious masked man.
Hanlim Group, huh? Wonder who'd show...
Good thing I was wearing the mask. Without it, my shocked expression would've been plain as day.
The chairman himself? No way.
Of course, I knew damn well people like him needed my abilities. Still, I'd figured he'd send some underling to make contact. Instead, one of Korea's top corporate titans shows up in person.
"Please, have a seat. As you can see, I'm not exactly mobile these days—forgive me."
"Ah, sure."
The chairman approached with surprising humility. I'd braced for some arrogant old-money bullshit, treating me like dirt. Instead, he regarded me as an equal—or more.
"I heard you treated three people for free today."
"Yeah, well..."
"Impressive. Heh heh, I've done plenty of charity myself, so seeing it on the news really stirred some admiration."
"......"
Pure lip service to start. He probably pegged me as some do-gooder volunteer who'd balk at money talk. His goal was obvious, though.
So I cut the crap for him.
"Skip the small talk, Chairman."
"......Pardon?"
"You didn't call me here to chat charity."
"......"
My words wiped the soft smile from Han's face. Then his lips curved up again—not the fake PR grin from photos online, but a genuine merchant's smirk.
"Blunt one, aren't you? I like it."
"So, what do you want, Chairman?"
"Asking that means you're open to a deal, right?"
What he meant was crystal clear: I'll pay top dollar—first come, first served for your miracles?
My answer was set.
"Obviously."
"......"
My hesitation-free reply left him momentarily stunned. Then he burst into booming laughter.
"Hahaha! I thought you were some 21st-century saint, but turns out you're a merchant like me!"
Seemed I'd won him over. His laughter faded, and he nodded to the man beside him.
Slide...
"Hm...?"
The secretary placed documents on the table. The chairman continued.
"Straight to the point: I want to hire you."
"......Pardon?"
Not what I'd expected. Hire me? Not treat me?
"Be my personal physician."
"......"
The offer blindsided me.
"Personal physician...?"
"The terms won't disappoint."
Yoo Hyun-woo picked up the explanation.
"We'll give you 1% of Hanlim Group shares, plus per-treatment incentives. Salary details are in the contract—take a look."
"......"
I scanned the contract. Legalese everywhere—First, second, stuff I rarely saw. But numbers? Those jumped out.
What the hell is this...?
My rough guess: annual salary. I swallowed hard.
Gulp.
One year of this, and I'd never worry about money again.
I set the papers down, pondering.
"Not enough? If so, then..."
"No, no—it's not that. Just... caught me off guard."
"Heh heh, no need to overthink. This old man's just asking you to keep my thread of life going a bit longer."
"......"
The deal was tempting as hell.
...But something held me back. Why?
"Personal physician means you'd have exclusive rights to my abilities, right?"
"Exactly. That's why the pay's so high."
"And my free treatments now...?"
"Ideally, stop them. But if you insist, we're open to compromise."
"......Hm."
I eyed the contract on the table. My ticket to life-changing wealth had arrived.
"I..."
I hesitated briefly. But the decision came quick.
The next day, Hanlim Group celebrated its 50th anniversary with a massive event. Key executives gathered to toast the milestone, and Chairman Han Se-jin attended, of course.
Not just a simple party—reporters from every major network swarmed, cameras rolling.
As one of Korea's flagship companies, public interest was sky-high.
"Chairman should retire soon, though..."
"Health's been iffy lately."
"Rumor is he'll hint at stepping down today."
"Time to pass it to his son—the vice chairman's over 50 already."
Everyone buzzed about the chairman's announcement. At 83, most would've retired ages ago. Yet he clung to the throne.
All eyes locked on the podium. They awaited his wheelchair entrance.
But.
Step, step.
"F-Father?"
"How...?"
The chairman walked in under his own power, striding confidently to the stage.
Straight-backed posture, clear voice, wrinkles softened. He looked a decade younger—not just walking, but commanding.
The crowd couldn't focus on his words. Shock at the legend's rejuvenation drowned everything.
And some realized instantly.
The chairman met that masked man...!
The Korea University Hospital mask guy was huge news. Miracles like this defied modern medicine. Ironically, the miracle-worker was the hottest topic. Explaining the chairman's glow-up? Easy.
Feeling his renewed vigor, Han Se-jin thought of the masked man.
To think he'd refuse...
His body, restored by that power. Muscles rebuilt where atrophy had set in. Foggy mind cleared like mist burning off. Eyes, skin, joints—all rewound.
Face still aged, but vitality rivaled any young man's.
Guess I should be grateful for this much.
That ability—he'd craved it enough to keep the guy glued to his side as personal doc. A wistful smile crossed his face at the missed prize.
"Ahh~! Sweet as hell~!"
I cracked open a beer, tore into some chicken, grinning ear to ear. My smartphone screen showed my bank account—and the balance? A number so huge it made me whistle.
Money wired, names exchanged with the chairman. No point hiding from folks like him; the mask was for the masses.
Washed it clean through Yoon Sil-jang, though—no laundering risks.
"This in my account? Still can't believe it."
Compared to his initial offer? Peanuts. I'd turned down the personal physician gig.
"Refuse...? You mean it?"
"Yeah. Huge sum, sure—but I can make that with my powers anyway."
"......Fair enough."
Other reasons too. Sure, I could earn big solo. But more than that? Freedom over servitude. Live my way.
Plenty more mods to play with, too.
Parked under some old geezer, sucking up salary? Wastes all these cheats. Hell, maybe I'd mod my way richer than him.
"Haa~ Fat wallet, clear mind. Bliss~."
The nagging anxiety—even post-mods—vanished like it'd been scrubbed clean. Money's the best.
FYI: Payment for curing every ailment in that old body. Turned down the job, but deals? Hell yes.
10 billion per treatment—my counter after ditching the physician role.
"That price means others can still approach."
Truth: My powers could demand 100 billion easy. Why he dangled salary plus shares to lock me down.
But charge 100 bil once? Stuck at that forever. Limits "leaders" lining up. Cash matters, but connections? Priceless.
"A few more gigs like this... hundreds of billions quick. Time to house-hunt?"
Chicken in one hand, phone in the other. Fired up a portal site for real estate.
Then.
"......Huh?"
A news blurb caught my eye. Not the masked man or chairman glow-up hype.
Entertainment section.
Jeong Ha-rin. Unforgettable name.
The bitch who'd crushed me deepest not long ago.
"No way..."
I clicked in, mesmerized. Eyes bulged at confirmation.
"This cunt... was actually an actress...?!"
There she was—high school nightmare Jeong Ha-rin, plastered huge.
"Ha, haha..."
Laughter bubbled up. Work grind kept me from TV or movies. First I'd heard she was famous.
"Actress, huh..."
Old me? Crushed, despairing.
But now?
"This could be fun...?"
I'm not that loser anymore. I smirked at her article, intrigued.