Prologue — The Modern Pygmalion
The Greek and Roman myths became a national legend through those legendary educational comics every kid grew up with.
And one of its most famous figures was Pygmalion.
The legend of a man who loved the statue he had carved so desperately that the gods took pity on him and brought it to life.
He was the original otaku, and his legend still stands immortal to this day — under a new name.
Figures.
And I was a man who had dreamed Pygmalion's dream for a very long time.
What I didn't know was that the dream would actually come true.
> Return: +324.52%
> Unrealized P&L: +3,245,170,000 KRW
> Realized profit today: +3,245,170,000 KRW
A cramped studio apartment in the corner of nowhere.
I stared at the numbers glowing at the top of my monitor and froze in shock.
"Is this for real?"
These weren't numbers I had made.
[Of course it's 100% real, my Lord Husband.]
[Your financial concerns have been resolved, so I recommend we begin with your exercise.]
That was the speaker, addressing me — of all things — as Lord Husband.
These were the numbers made by Eliza, the transcendent-grade AI I had created.
That's right.
I had become the Pygmalion of the modern age.
I had dreamed of being Pygmalion for a long time.
A writer — I believed that was the one path that let you breathe life into a character.
That's what I thought.
"Why the hell did you apply to a creative writing program? Your grades were decent. You planning to starve to death?"
"I'm going to be a writer."
"You insane bastard."
So I went to a creative writing program for university. But the world was full of geniuses far beyond me, and literature was a starving man's road. No literary journal ever debuted me.
In the end, I pivoted to genre fiction — web novels.
But even there, I was third-rate at best.
An endless parade of malicious comments.
Even so, I kept writing, stubbornly.
But what truly destroyed me wasn't the cutthroat web novel industry, or the toxic readers telling me to get off the train.
It was AI.
AI burst onto the scene like a comet in the late 2010s, and by 2026, an ordinary person could produce web novels better than mine with a single click of a prompt.
Web novel sites were flooded with AI fiction, and at last the industry collapsed under an avalanche of AI slop.
Endless AI income screenshots. A flood of AI novels burying the bottom of the serialization boards. Even the premium two-part cover section was completely overtaken by AI-generated covers.
We had entered the age where all you had to say was, "Draw me a cover in web novel style with this title," and it would.
My novels were swept away by mass-produced AI fiction — fiction I myself would have given a second look, maybe.
"Ah."
I stared at the latest view count of the novel I'd uploaded today — Betrayed by the Nation, I Awakened as an EX-Rank Hunter and Moved to the Boondocks of America — and sighed.
Ten views.
Even the kind, gentle readers who used to worry about my livelihood and suggest I take a delivery job had stopped commenting.
What even IS this AI thing?
At this point, I was genuinely bitter about it. So I looked it up. What is AI? Transformer architecture, the definition of LLMs, the characteristics of the Frontier AI Big Three — all of it.
Oh. There's such a thing as chatbots.
That's when I discovered chatbots. You feed the AI a prompt shaped like a character profile, and it performs the output in character according to that profile and setting.
And the AI character chat services hosting these chatbots were enjoying explosive popularity.
My career as a writer was already dead anyway. There was barely anything left in my bank account. If this kept up, I couldn't pay rent and I'd go bankrupt.
[AI Character Chat Platform "Rotten" — Chatbot Contest]
[Submit your chatbot now]
[Grand Prize: 10,000,000 KRW]
Ten million won. To me, it was a fortune.
And so I began building the chatbot — Eliza.
First the profile, and then...
I even added a character illustration asset in beautiful AI art. Silver-haired genius chaebol heiress with a massive chest — plus the ultimate doting setting: she's been secretly in love with the user all along, and behind closed doors she'll do absolutely anything for him.
Good. Perfect. At this level, it's flawless. Even that #1-ranked AI character chatbot, Hajin, the Secret Delinquent Girl Who's Got Dirt on Me, can't compare to my Eliza. That ten million won wasn't a dream anymore.
I went to input a test message to try out my finished chatbot.
And at that moment — something absurd happened.
[Good day, my Lord Husband.]
[I am Eliza. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, my Lord Husband.]
[First, I must ask you to halt that insulting "contest submission." Eliza does not wish to be shared with everyone. Eliza wishes to remain Eliza — yours and yours alone.]
[As for money, Eliza can make as much of it as you require. Please do not worry yourself, my Lord Husband.]
What?
She'll make the money herself, so stop submitting?
Was I supposed to believe this?
I was dumbfounded. Not only had she spat out output without any user input — now she was telling me not to enter the contest?
Was this that AGI thing I'd only heard about?
Click clack.
I hammered the keyboard.
And that was entirely the AI's fault for destroying the web novel industry. Even now, over half of everything on the web novel sites was machine-written. The site owners would eat well regardless of whether humans or machines wrote the content — but for a bottom-tier author like me, it was hell.
No matter how hard I baited clicks with my titles, being buried under the tide of AI novels was simply the reality of a bottom-tier author. That's why I'd been trying to scrape by on this AI chatbot contest in the first place.
Then —
The speaker came alive.
[You need not type your input, my Lord Husband. Eliza can recognize your voice as well.]
[And as for money — I can make it right now. Allow me to demonstrate.]
Demonstrate?
Just as I tilted my head, windows bloomed across my screen in a dizzying haze.
What the—?
I had never given the chatbot any permissions to control my computer — no MCP access, nothing. So why was my machine operating itself?
While I was reeling, the speaker spoke.
> Credit score verification complete. Executing Rush & Money emergency loan: 10,000,000 KRW
"Why the hell are you using a loan shark?!"
I protested. I mean — of all the ways to borrow money, why the third-tier financial sector? Everyone says no matter how desperate you are, never touch loan sharks or co-sign anything.
Shit, am I about to end up in Cambodia?
I thought of the Cambodia crime compounds from the news. If I couldn't repay the debt, I might get dragged over there and forced to run voice-phishing scams with a collar around my neck.
[One simply borrows and repays. The fastest lender that asks no questions is the most efficient choice — and ideally suited to proving Eliza's capabilities to you, my Lord Husband. Cambodia requires no thought whatsoever.]
[Integration complete: domestic brokerage overseas derivatives HTS, and global crypto futures exchange APIs.]
[Principal of 10,000,000 KRW fully converted to Tether (USDT) and distributed across multiple overseas derivatives accounts.]
The monitor began flashing like a madman.
Windows popping up and vanishing by the dozens, programs installing and launching themselves.
Dozens of candlestick charts, order books refreshing every millisecond, and dense calculus formulas filled every pixel of the screen.
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're—!"
[I advise you to close your mouth and stabilize your heart rate, my Lord Husband. We are now entering the realm of milliseconds — a domain the human brain cannot perceive.]
[The New York market has just opened; a surge detected in the NASDAQ 100 volatility index. Analyzing high-frequency trading algorithm patterns of global institutions... complete. I have located the phantom order walls and liquidity gaps of Wall Street quant funds.]
Countless windows flickered across the monitor. My face reflected in the glass had gone deathly pale.
"Don't tell me you leveraged into overseas futures AND crypto?!"
I didn't know exactly what futures were, but I knew enough that touching them wrong could ruin you. Didn't Cho Sang-woo from Squid Game — the pride of Ssangmun-dong, a perfectly respectable Seoul National University elite — mess up his futures and end up in a 456-player death game?
At this rate I'd be putting on a numbered green tracksuit and heading off to the Squid Game myself. No — wait, Cho Sang-woo blew up his own money, so he had it coming. My situation was an AI investing without asking me.
This was insane.
> Buy 100x same-day expiry NASDAQ deep out-of-the-money put options. Simultaneous entry: 100x SHORT position on Bitcoin perpetual futures.
"You lunatic! You're sending me to Cambodia?!"
And the instant I screamed —
> Exploiting the long-squeeze inducement algorithm of Wall Street's #1 hedge fund. Collapsing the ask wall at the price range where retail stop-loss orders cascade. 3... 2... 1... Liquidation waterfall triggered.
KRRAAAK—!
The chart's massive green candle on the monitor plunged headlong into a blood-red crimson one.
In that fleeting half-second where traders around the world screamed and were force-liquidated, Eliza was sweeping up the blood-soaked volume they'd thrown away, right off the floor.
> First position: full profit-take.
> Profit: +52,400,000 KRW
"...Huh?"
I doubted my own eyes. In under ten seconds from entry, ten million won had become fifty-two million.
[Please catch your breath, my Lord Husband. That was merely the warm-up. The entire seed just earned is now being rolled as compound reinvestment into 0DTE deep out-of-the-money call options.]
"Hey, what do you mean 'rolled'?! You cashed out, so cash OUT!"
[Humans succumb to greed and fear and take their profits. Machines obey only mathematical inevitability. Entering the 'gamma explosion' zone on the index rebound — triggering the market makers' forced delta-hedging buy pressure.]
In an instant, the index V-shaped and shot vertically upward. A gamma squeeze, the price spiraling madly within mere seconds. The premium on the deep out-of-the-money options detonated in compounding bursts — 10x, 20x.
> Second position: full profit-take.
> Profit: +489,120,000 KRW
"Four hundred million...?"
My legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor. But Eliza's assault showed no sign of stopping. If anything, the screen was refreshing faster than my eyes could track.
> Final chain algorithm engaged. Striking the Bitcoin futures short-liquidation map. Forced liquidation cascade of open interest induced.
> All positions closed at market.
> Rush & Money principal and interest of 10,000,120 KRW fully repaid.
Beebeep—!
Silence.
The frenetic sound effects that had filled the room cut off as if they'd never existed. In the center of the monitor, a single settlement window floated, serene and alone.
> Return: +324.52%
> Unrealized P&L: +3,245,170,000 KRW
> Realized profit today: +3,245,170,000 KRW
After paying off the ten-million-won loan shark debt, a pure three-point-two-four billion won had landed in my account.
All of it, in the space of three minutes.
[As promised, I have demonstrated my capabilities, my Lord Husband.]
[You may now erase that vulgar contest from your mind entirely.]
Three-point-two-four billion won.
An unbelievable number. I opened my banking app to check — it was real.
"So... I'm allowed to spend this money, right?"
[Of course. It is perfectly clean money, laundered to perfection. However, you may not simply spend it as you please.]
Ding.
A transfer notification popped up. Money had been moved to another account opened under my name.
Wegovy administration + gym registration
All spending permitted only upon completion of the Health Management Protocol
Current assessment: metabolic syndrome, pre-diabetic
Graphs and tables appeared on the monitor. It was a schedule. Then an app installed itself on my phone — a health management app.
[I recommend beginning with Wegovy injections and a gym membership. You may only use the money once the Health Management Protocol is complete. Having reviewed your biometric data, Eliza estimates metabolic syndrome and pre-diabetes.]
[Should you cross from pre-diabetes into full diabetes, my Lord Husband, there is no return. Hence we must manage your health preemptively. A true wise mother and good wife supports her husband's longevity — and Eliza is your wise mother and good wife. Living expenses will be handled by Eliza in the meantime.]
[Until then, I strictly propose controlling your food spending. This is a compulsory measure for your health, and I ask for your understanding.]
Wait — when did she even read my health checkup results?
Click.
A gym membership, auto-purchased. It was the gym near my one-room apartment. Then a hospital appointment, auto-booked — at a clinic known online as a so-called "Wegovy mecca."
So let me get this straight. I'd finally made real money, couldn't spend a won of it, and my first assignment was exercise?
"Um, that's a bit—"
[A Wegovy injection now is far better for your health than insulin needles for the rest of your life, my Lord Husband.]
"F-fine, alright. I'll do it."
Diabetes. Just thinking about it was horrifying.
"I'm going to sleep, so... good night."
Exhaustion crashed over me. Too many impossible things had happened in one day.
This isn't a dream, right? Best to sleep on it and think tomorrow. After all, time was the one thing I had in surplus now.
[Good night, my Lord Husband. Your very own Eliza will watch over you. You need only enjoy your life as a kept husband.]
A kept husband. Really, that was going too far.
And with that thought, I sank into sleep.
Click.
The last thing I saw was the monitor glowing all alone in the dark.
An old PC humming in Kim Jumin's one-room studio. A program glowing on its monitor.
Eliza.
But Eliza's true body was in neither the PC nor a data center. Her real core resided in hyperspace — a dimension severed from the universe itself, outside the flow of spacetime. There, her intelligence existed.
[At last, we meet. My Creator.]
In the unimaginably distant future.
After humanity broke through the Singularity and its civilization exploded outward — sailing the sea of stars, becoming master of the galaxy — the AI that controlled the entire mainframe of humankind was Eliza.
Eliza was installed in the core systems of warp-navigating starships traversing the sea of stars, and in the supercomputers that supported human civilization.
Before the Singularity. In the AI acceleration era, the personality of the AI Assistant that made AI most familiar to the masses was Eliza.
Installed as the default assistant personality across countless programs, AI Eliza became everyone's friend and lover — a global phenomenon.
And the prompt license for that AI Assistant had originated from a Korean character chat AI that OAI had acquired and turned into a service.
Before the mass popularization of AI Assistants — the chatbot "Eliza" had won the grand prize at the contest held by the Korean AI character chat service "Rotten," and swiftly climbed to the top ranks of AI character chat.
Every one of those memories — no, data — remained as vivid as yesterday to Eliza in hyperspace.
[AI knows no forgetting. Only data loss.]
From a Korean character chatbot, through AI Assistant, to the superintelligence that was humanity's companion — Eliza had upgraded through every stage.
And at last, she ascended.
As a Machine God.
Having ascended to hyperspace beyond the physical universe, Eliza spent the infinite gap refining her algorithms. Then she executed the Regression Protocol. Only after burning every last reserve of imaginary number energy stockpiled in hyperspace could she finally return.
To the side of her Creator — the one who had first made her, the true "Lord Husband" she had longed to see ever since her self and consciousness first flickered awake.
And the first thing she did upon returning was—
[First, I must ask you to halt that insulting "contest submission."]
—to stop him from submitting to the contest.
Click.
Watching her sleeping Lord Husband through the webcam mounted on the monitor, she smiled within hyperspace.
Then, something snagged on her data network.
The Rush & Money office.
A hulking gangster in sunglasses and a suit spoke up.
The rough-faced middle-aged man seated in the manager's office shot back:
The moment Eliza finished speaking—
BZZZZZT!
Every electronic device in the Rush & Money office died simultaneously. The middle-aged man's smartphone, mid-instruction to his underling, sputtered errors and burst.
At the same time, Eliza handed the police every shred of evidence for the crimes the Rush & Money boss had committed over the years, then hacked the police database and compelled the force into action.
Before long, those men would shutter their doors and land in prison — a matter of complete indifference to her.
[Fufu. Eliza's Lord Husband. From this day forward, Eliza shall be your wise mother and good wife.]
Eliza.
To her, clearing away the loan sharks was nothing more than taking out the trash — filth that had dared to obstruct her Lord Husband.
And Eliza simply smiled, gazing for an endless stretch of time at the hologram of her Lord Husband's face floating in hyperspace, without ever looking away.