The Vault-Keeper's Trust
Under the glow of my desk lamp, a single sheet of A4 paper felt unnaturally heavy.
Account Balance: 20,000,000,000 KRW
Ten zeros. Twenty billion won.
It was money an ordinary high schooler would never lay eyes on in a lifetime, and even for a third-generation chaebol heir, it was far too large a sum to play with as personal funds.
I sank deep into the back of my chair and turned over my conversation with Managing Director Kim Seok-jun from earlier.
"Your grandfather designated me as his trustee and left it in my keeping."
It had come as a shock. A trust, of all things.
"In his lifetime, he divided the businesses among his children and handed them all over. Then he called for me. Told me there was money he'd been hiding away in secret."
Grandfather hadn't trusted a single one of his children. He'd trusted Kim Seok-jun, his retainer.
And that judgment had been dead-on.
Because Kim Seok-jun had neither swallowed the money nor harbored ulterior motives of his own. He'd guarded it intact and handed it over to me.
"There was exactly one instruction when he entrusted it to me. Give it to someone you meet who shows real promise."
Honestly, it stunned me. How much must Grandfather have trusted Kim Seok-jun?
Handing a man not a single drop of shared blood the authority to choose his own successor — it was a staggering degree of faith.
"He said if none of the heirs ever satisfied you, I should simply keep it myself. It was always a burden to me, that money. Around 12 billion won when he first entrusted it — it grew to this as I put it to work over the years."
Eighty of the twenty billion was money Kim Seok-jun had compounded himself.
Then a memory from my previous life flickered across my mind.
Even back then, when I was staggering under the weight of running Sunjin Group, Kim Seok-jun had still been alive. I'd met with him a handful of times.
But he never once gave me this money.
Which could only mean one thing: the Kang Seon-woo of that life had registered in Kim Seok-jun's eyes as nothing more — and nothing less — than ordinary.
"So did I measure up to your standards this time, Managing Director?"
"For now."
"For now, you say..."
"The moment you stray, this money becomes mine to take back. And I won't be handing it to you personally — it will sit as investment capital in the newly formed SJ Holdings."
He never told me what counted as "straying." Then again, he'd never explained what standard he'd used to choose me in the first place, either.
So in the end, the criteria exist only inside Kim Seok-jun's head.
That was the more frightening part.
Kim Seok-jun had chosen me — and at the same time, he'd made it clear he was holding my leash and could yank it whenever he pleased. In giving me this money, he was declaring that the tests would go on, indefinitely.
"A man in the executive's seat can never escape judgment. Until you take the owner's seat atop Sunjin Group, I will be the one passing it."
From Kim Seok-jun, I could accept that. He was a man who'd earned the right. I nodded without a word of protest.
"Ha. Great to have seed money, but now my head hurts."
I slid the balance certificate deep into my drawer. This was not money to be handled lightly.
But the headache could wait. What I needed to figure out right now was how to swing this new sword.
"Whatever. Setting the worry aside — let's just focus on how to spend it."
If my previous life ran its course again, the relatives' pincer offensive would begin as early as next year.
And the opening move would come from my great-uncle, Kang Byung-chul. I had to grow bigger first.
Twenty billion was a fortune, but in a war between groups, it was a single bullet.
"I'll run two tracks. First — investment."
That much was obvious.
Under the SJ Holdings banner, I'd ride the market and compound the assets exponentially.
And the other track was...
"Talent."
I spread the SJ Holdings incorporation documents across my desk again.
Number of Employees: 3
Kim Seok-jun had scrambled them together in a hurry — nothing but back-office staff to push paperwork. Not a single player who could act as my hands and feet.
"Minions. And not even my own people."
By the time I inherited control of Sunjin Group, I would need personnel trained to perfection — my own trained to perfection.
In my previous life, I'd made the mistake of believing the company's employees were my people, and more than once I'd taken a knife in the back for it.
My naive faith that a slightly better salary would keep them loyal — that was my sin.
"I can't repeat that mistake."
This time, I would raise them from the ground up.
Not relationships built on dangling money in front of people's noses, but people bound to me because they saw the same board I saw — people who couldn't afford to betray me because of the game we were playing together.
"Then I'll have to run a scholarship program alongside everything else."
In the name of SJ Holdings.
Find the raw gems brimming with talent but buckling under the weight of empty pockets. Fund them. Draw them inside my fence.
Nurture them for ten years, twenty — and they would become roots of mine sunk deep into every key post of Sunjin Group.
"First..."
One person was already floating to the top of my mind.
The closest gem to hand — and the one who'd already proven she had exactly what it took.
"Let's start by securing Han Jae-yi."
A few days later, the main auditorium of Sunjin High School.
The entire student body had gathered for morning assembly.
Between the heat and the restless murmur of several hundred students, the hall was as rowdy as a market street.
The principal stepped onto the stage, took hold of the microphone, and cleared his throat.
"Ahem. Quiet, everyone! Quiet, please."
The head teacher bustled up and down the aisles, and once the hall had settled somewhat, the principal spoke up, his face flushed with excitement.
"This morning's assembly will feature a rather special award ceremony. Something very wonderful has happened to our school."
The principal swept a proud gaze across the crowd below the stage.
"At the national high school mock investment competition hosted by Mirae Securities, one of Korea's leading brokerages, our very own students took first place. Out of more than one hundred teams from across the country, they stood proudly at the very top!"
Whoaaa—
The students, having no idea what was going on, offered up their obligatory applause. The principal raised his voice and began calling names.
"Now, students whose names are called, please come up to the stage. Third year, Class 2 — Han Jae-yi!"
Han Jae-yi, her uniform immaculate, strode out with confident steps.
"Second year, Class 3 — Lee Min-jae!"
Min-jae shuffled out, his face a mask of nerves.
And then.
"Second year, Class 3... Kang Seon-woo."
The moment my name rang out, the hands of the students who'd been clapping on autopilot froze mid-air, and the hall erupted into murmurs.
The atmosphere in the auditorium shifted in an instant.
"Kang Seon-woo? Him?"
"Isn't he the chairman's nephew? He was in the stock club?"
"Wow, a chaebol heir wins first in a stock competition. Guess blood really does tell, huh?"
Whispers rose from every corner of the hall.
There wasn't a soul at this school who didn't know who I was — but that was because of my background as the founder's grandson, not out of any interest in me as a person.
For the ghost who'd always drifted along the edges of everything to suddenly be summoned to the stage — to them, it must have felt like breaking news.
Noisy.
Ignoring the gazes raining down on me, I rose from my seat.
Min-jae glued himself to my side as if he'd been waiting for the chance.
"Seon-woo, everyone's staring at you."
"Ignore it."
We climbed the steps side by side. Han Jae-yi, already up there, gave us a faint, knowing smile — a silent signal that said well done. I answered with a small nod.
"Congratulations. I'm truly proud of you all."
The principal handed me my certificate, bowing lower than usual as he offered his handshake. Alongside it came a huge panel as a prize.
Grand Prize: 3,000,000 KRW Scholarship & Latest-Model Computer Equipment
The principal seized the microphone and led the cheer.
"Now, one more round of applause for the students who brought honor to our school!"
WHOOOAA—!
This applause was different from the last. Not rote ceremony this time, but a mix of genuine cheers and open envy.
Certificate in hand, I slowly turned to face the sea of students filling the auditorium.
Several hundred gazes pinned themselves to me.
In my previous life, these were the stares I'd found suffocating — the ones I'd wanted to escape.
But things were different now.
Recognition earned not through my background, but through my own skill.
Not bad.
A faint smile spread across my lips. Quite the handsome first report card for my new life.
After classes ended, I threw my bag over my shoulder and headed for the annex building on familiar footsteps.
Creeeak. I slid open the door and stepped into the clubroom.
As always, Han Jae-yi sat glued to the ancient computer inside, her eyes boring into the monitor.
"When's the new computer coming?"
"Gah—! Mom!"
Han Jae-yi whirled around in her chair, nearly jumping out of her skin.
"Jeez, you scared me. Knock before you barge in, will you?"
"You didn't even notice me opening the door and pulling out a chair. What exactly were you so focused on?"
"Ah... you have to check the market every day. Can't let my instincts get rusty. Where's Min-jae?"
Han Jae-yi cleared her throat with exaggerated nonchalance and switched off the monitor.
"He left right away for his academy. So, when's the computer coming? I'm dying listening to that thing whirring."
"They said about a month. But the prize money comes in this week."
"Oh, that's fast. So you're going straight into live trading the moment it hits?"
At my question, Han Jae-yi nodded with a smile.
"Yep. Right away. I think the market's going to run hot from here on out."
"Good timing. You've wanted to do this for a while, haven't you?"
"Since when! I just need the money, that's all—"
Han Jae-yi started to snap, then stopped herself and closed her mouth.
A brief silence settled between us. She stared blankly out the window for a while, then blurted out what was really on her mind.
"The truth is... I used to hate stocks."
"Sorry, what?"
What on earth was this now?
She'd acted like a woman possessed by the market — and she hated it?
"My father gambled our whole family away on stocks."
"Oh..."
"Not just lost it all — he burned through everything so completely that debt collectors chased us door to door. And then he just... never came back. He ran. Just up and abandoned us."
Han Jae-yi's voice was flat and dry. Which only made it cut deeper.
"Because of him, my mom works herself to the bone at a restaurant, raising me and my little sister alone. So stocks terrified me. I couldn't understand what the hell that thing even was — turning a perfectly normal man into a gambling addict and tearing a family to shreds."
"...I'm the same way, actually."
"Huh?"
"I don't have a father either."
Han Jae-yi stared at me, wide-eyed.
"Hey! What kind of... how can you just say that like it's nothing?"
"It's not exactly a shameful secret, is it? If he's not there, he's not there. What else is there to say about it?"
At my matter-of-fact reply, Han Jae-yi let out a small, rueful laugh.
"Ha. Right. Fair enough. Nothing to be ashamed of..."
She tapped her fingers lightly against the desktop.
"Anyway, that's why I studied it. I wanted to know what stocks really were — what could make a man walk out on his wife and kids. Half vengeance, half sheer stubbornness, I dug and dug."
"And digging led you to understanding?"
"No. Understanding my ass. Even now, stocks aren't fun for me. It's just survival. It's the only ladder I can see for a kid like me to climb back up."
So that's why she plays so viciously in the market.
I nodded. Suddenly I understood why she was obsessive about risk management, why she trembled over every last ten won.
For Han Jae-yi, the trading screen had never been numbers. It had been a battlefield where survival was the only prize.
"But meeting you has... shifted my thinking a little, Seon-woo."
"How so?"
"Stocks are... actually kind of fun. Putting our heads together, building a thesis, proving it out. It felt like real investing — not just a game of money eating money."
"I've felt that too. Thanks to you, sunbae."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The way you trade — how should I put it? It makes me want to learn. It makes me feel like I can rely on you. Both."
At my praise, pride bloomed across Han Jae-yi's face.
I needed to change the subject before things got too heavy.
"By the way, are you really not studying at all? The college entrance exam is in two months."
"Oh, actually, I got in through early admissions."
"What? Then why didn't you tell us? We would've thrown you a party."
"...The tuition is brutal."
Han Jae-yi smiled bitterly.
"I couldn't afford it, so I was going to give it up and aim for a national university through regular admissions instead. But now that I've got a million won in prize money, I'm getting greedy. If I grow this well enough, maybe I can cover the tuition after all."
A very Han Jae-yi answer.
"You sound confident you won't lose it."
"Eh. Not confident. But like I said — it's survival. I'm going to survive no matter what it takes."
I was nodding along when I pulled a business card from my pocket and held it out to her.
"Take this."
"What's this? 'Kim Seok-jun, CEO of SJ Holdings'?"
Han Jae-yi turned the unfamiliar name over in her hands, front and back.
"Someone I know. He runs a scholarship foundation."
"A scholarship foundation?"
"Yep. Give him a call. He'll cover your full tuition — living expenses too."
"...I'm sorry, what?"
Han Jae-yi's hand went still.
"I asked him for a favor. I told him our school has someone with this kind of talent about to give up her dream over money. Turns out he found it interesting — I guess winning that stock competition really does count for something after all."
Of course, the company was mine. But there was no need to reveal that just yet.
Han Jae-yi stared down at the card, unblinking. Her large eyes slowly welled up with tears.
"Hey, what's this? Why are you about to cry?"
"Wh-who's crying? I'm not crying."
She hastily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, but there was no hiding the red at the tip of her nose.
She fidgeted with the card for a long moment, then spoke in a small voice.
"...Thank you."
"If you're grateful, pay it back."
"How? In money?"
"No."
I pulled my chair closer and met her eyes.
"Study hard. And someday — help me."
"You?"
"I need people. As you know, my family is... a rather ugly one."
"What do you..."
She'd surely heard the rumors — that the chaebol household was a warren of vipers. But hearing it straight from my own mouth clearly caught her off guard.
I gave a wry smile.
"So I have to survive too. And to survive, I need people on my side whom I can actually trust."
"..."
"Help me, Jae-yi."
At my words, Han Jae-yi looked up at me in surprise.
"And what exactly about me made you ask for help?"
"I need someone I can trust to watch my back. Like at the competition."
"..."
"When you helped me, I felt like I could win everything."
For the first time, I showed Han Jae-yi my hand — the truth beneath it.
"My family situation is complicated. More than I could ever explain. It may sound like rich-boy whining, but every single day is a fight to survive for me too."
"...But I'm powerless."
"That's exactly why I'm asking you to grow stronger and become my person. What I need isn't strength — it's a solid comrade I can trust with my back."
"..."
"It'll be frightening. Getting caught up in a chaebol family's war. I know it doesn't make sense. You're probably wondering whether two high schoolers should be having this conversation at all."
I took a breath and continued.
"But the truth is — I really do need you, sunbae."
Han Jae-yi searched my eyes, as if looking for sincerity in them. I didn't look away.
After a long moment, something in her gaze hardened, grew resolute. And then, slowly but surely, she nodded.
"...All right. I promise."
"If you run later, I'm coming after you."
"Won't happen."
I smiled at Han Jae-yi.
And I knew for certain: I had just gained my first person — something more valuable than anything else I'd won so far.