The Regressor Stabs the Heart of the Moon
"What? Grandpa?" Mom asked.
"Ah, nothing."
"Da? Taewoong, have you already done your military service? Your speech keeps ending in -da."
"The club seniors' discipline is no joke."
I steered the conversation away.
In our house the word "grandfather" was taboo.
The world called him the kindly-faced Hahoetal Chairman Ha.
I remembered his true face all too well.
It had been childhood—before I even entered elementary school.
Learning that Grandmother was critically ill, I had gone with my parents to Grandfather's house.
Back then the little me had been thrilled.
Grandfather and Grandmother had only ever existed as stories from my friends' mouths.
Until that day they had been other people's business.
The fact that I actually had a grandfather and grandmother felt miraculous.
And that was not all.
I even had a whole flock of great-uncles and aunts that other kids did not!
Only later, when I was grown, did I understand.
Dad had been a sales employee for a mid-sized company, traveling the entire country every day.
He had been my direct senior at university.
In those days a graduate of Yeonguk University's business school could walk into any large corporation.
Moreover he had been the youngest son of the reigning chairman of the great Haryun Group.
Yet Dad had buried himself in a mid-sized firm.
It was the result of marrying Mom against the family's opposition.
Every privilege he could have enjoyed as a chaebol scion had been stripped from him.
The woman Dad chose had lost both parents early and lived alone like an orphan.
The two of them had met by chance on the beach at Sokcho and fallen into a burning love.
It had been the most beautiful emotion permitted to humans—first love.
The tragedy began right there.
Even in university Dad already had a marriage arranged for him.
It was something like an obligation of chaebol blood.
The youngest of four sons and two daughters, Dad had been destined to marry the daughter of one of the country's top three media families.
Nevertheless he chose love.
Over that matter the Ha clan even made the absurd threat that they would kill him.
Dad never bent; he chose Mom.
Naturally Grandfather cast him out that very day.
Grandfather needed stepping-stones for the empire he dreamed of building.
A child who refused was discarded without mercy.
The brothers, knowing their own shares would increase, welcomed Grandfather's decision.
Dad never once regretted it.
With the love he chose in Mom he overcame a world of prejudice.
When I look back on childhood, our home was happy.
Parents who dripped honey just looking at each other, and me their only son.
I have so many memories.
On Dad's days off, if the sun was good we went to the Han River.
The three of us rented bicycles and tore into fried chicken.
When it rained we ate Mom's delicious jeon at home.
Pumpkin, chives, sweet potato, cabbage—whatever was cheap and seasonal.
Just thinking of Mom's jeon made with ordinary ingredients still makes my mouth water.
The side dishes changed with the seasons, all from inexpensive ingredients.
They had no fine wine, yet they were happy with a single bowl of makgeolli.
I grew up without a care in the shade of those two people.
If only that day—the nightmare I can never forget—had never happened, everything afterward would still have been…
Pouring, pouring.
It was a rainy day.
The three of us rode the tiny sales car Dad drove and arrived at the neighborhood.
Seongbuk-dong, the wealthy enclave.
Magnificent mansions stretched on without end.
My heart raced.
I could not believe a grandfather who lived this well actually belonged to me.
The two of them got out in front of the mansion.
I can still see Mom and Dad fidgeting with anxiety.
Mom was tense.
Even through her small hand I could feel her entire emotional state.
I squeezed that hand tightly for her.
Through the warmth of her palm I felt the faint trembling.
At the time I truly did not know.
Mom was genuinely terrified.
Dad pressed the doorbell.
There was no answer from inside.
He rang several more times after that.
A long while later two heavily built men opened the gate and came out.
They told us to leave—chairman's orders.
Dad pleaded, "Just let me see Mother's face once."
That was the first time I saw Dad cry.
The two men were bodyguards.
With unyielding attitudes they blocked the way, saying it was absolutely impossible.
A scuffle broke out among the three.
Dad tried to shove past them into the gate.
The bodyguards held him back with brutal force.
Dad shouted until his throat tore.
"Mother, Mother!"
Covered in tears and snot he struggled to get inside the gate.
The iron gate that barred the way was unusually high and solid.
The door the bodyguards blocked did not open.
Mom tried to pull the bodyguards off as they manhandled Dad.
While the struggle dragged on, the umbrellas they had been holding were flung far away.
Pouring, pouring.
Dad, Mom, and I were soaked through like drowned rats.
Then, as if by a lie, the gate opened.
A good-looking old man appeared.
"Father."
Dad called Grandfather in a trembling voice.
He was the grandfather who resembled the funny mask from storybooks.
The gold buttons stood out.
Yellow gold buttons dangling all over his hanbok jeogori.
"…"
The clamor subsided and a thick silence settled.
It was short, yet it felt extremely long.
The heavy presence that spread in every direction was terror itself to the child I was.
I was afraid.
I could not breathe.
Hiding behind Mom I stole a glance at Grandfather.
Lips pressed tight.
He looked stubborn and mean.
Those tiger eyes held not a shred of warmth.
That first impression of Grandfather remains carved vividly into my mind even now.
It was different from the way Mom and Dad looked at me.
It was absolutely not the gaze one turns on a child.
It was the cold, hostile look one gives an enemy.
Our eyes even met for a moment.
Those pupils held no emotion whatsoever.
Not one degree of warmth for one's own blood.
He did not even glance at Mom when she greeted him.
Behind Grandfather, Dad's siblings stood in a line.
They arrayed themselves like a folding screen.
Their eyes were no different.
The gazes they turned on Mom, Dad, and me—reduced to beggars—were arrogant.
Especially the faces of a few who sneered at the young me still remain clear in my memory.
And then the words I heard.
"Get lost! How dare a lowly thing come here!"
The bellow exploded.
It was one of the women standing behind Grandfather who shouted at Mom.
"A son who sold his family register, how dare you crawl here!"
One of the men spat at Dad.
Dad begged again to be allowed to see Mother just once.
In the rain he dropped to his knees in front of the gate.
Even seeing that, Grandfather remained silent.
The children lined up like a screen raised even louder voices.
There is no mutt like you in the Ha family.
The warning continued.
If you show up even one more time, you will not even be allowed to keep that meager daily life and job of yours!
Having thrown those words they all disappeared inside the gate.
Without a single word Grandfather turned his back with them and vanished.
A man without blood or tears.
Even the young me could understand that clearly.
Dad wailed, calling for Grandmother.
Still on his knees he pounded the rain-soaked ground with his fists again and again.
He swallowed sobs that made him rock as if he would fall backward.
For a long time Dad heaved and wept like that.
Mom wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
That was when I learned that Dad could cry out loud just like me.
After that day Dad's words grew scarce.
His flesh melted away.
Not long afterward the terrifying Hahoetal Grandfather's face appeared on television.
It was a funeral hall.
An interview with the group chairman seeing off his lifelong wife.
Throughout the interview Grandfather shed tears and pleaded his sorrow.
The sight of him wearing that detestable mask made vomit rise in my throat.
I still remember bolting to the bathroom and throwing up everything I had eaten that day.
When Dad died, no one from Grandfather's side came either.
I spent several days comforting Mom in her grief.
Looking back, from that time on I erased every relative on the paternal side from my memory.
The empty space filled only with rage.
Whenever I thought of them I wanted revenge.
But reality was cold.
After entering university I understood it clearly.
The Haryun Group was not my opponent.
It was a colossal monster I could never touch even if I died and came back to life.
A monster no prosecutor or judge could challenge.
It was one of the great chaebol groups that propped up the Korean economy!
Petty revenge was possible, at least.
Boycott Haryun Group products.
I never even pointed a stick toward Seongbuk-dong.
The commercial on the screen changed.
Though it is a modest sum, I am simply grateful to be able to contribute even a little to this difficult world.
The beautiful line continued.
Ugh!
My guts twisted and I forced down the rising vomit.
I now had the strength to endure even this much.
"Mom."
"Yeah, son."
Confidence had also returned.
The independence war funds Grandmother left behind!
I let out a dry chuckle at the idle sense of victory.
"Mom, can your son try being a chaebol once?"
"A chaebol? All of a sudden?"
It had been a lifelong grudge.
Living as a working adult only made me more certain.
This damn world!
It was a paradise for those with money!
Especially the chaebols!
Especially that grandfather!
Before the regression, right at this very moment.
That grandfather should have been going to prison for embezzlement and breach of trust.
To cover it up he had scattered money.
Media figures connected by marriage and networks had given him full protection.
Entangled in every direction with politics as well, even major crimes were quietly buried.
Of course the three hundred billion he announced on official stages never actually went to society as promised.
It flowed into a foundation managed by the group.
Naturally the foundation also belonged to Grandfather.
The people knew full well he was only throwing around empty goodwill.
Even so, public affection for the Hahoetal Grandfather remained fervent.
I wanted to rip open every last scrap of the true nature behind that smile!
That detestable, beastly grandfather and all his blood kin.
The Haryun Group, called the textbook model chaebol of South Korea.
I wanted to smash those money-obsessed bastards with money itself!
"Sure, son! Be a chaebol. Do whatever you want!"
Mom seemed to think it was a joke.
"Just one condition—be a human chaebol. Do that."
I could feel the grudge of a mother who had tasted the cruelty of chaebols to the bone.
A chance at resurrection.
Heaven had given me the opportunity.
No—Grandmother had come holding the chance in her hands!
"A chaebol… Your son is going to devour it flashily!!"
"One billion won…"
Thump-thump.
My heart pounded roughly.
One billion was an enormous sum ordinary people could never touch.
It was enough to buy a small apartment in Seoul.
Even for me this kind of money was a first.
"But… this money is nowhere near enough!"
The problem was that against chaebols one billion was nothing.
I could not even scrape against them with it.
I needed to grow it to at least several tens of trillions in cash.
"Real estate is finished… If I invest in American stocks right now… I could multiply it several times…"
Steadying my breath I recalled the past I had lived through.
Then I sorted the memories by period.
Countless recollections began lining up in sequence.
"…"
Thump! Thump!
Phenomena of a future that, though I had experienced them as reality, were still unknown at the present moment.
My heart raced like mad.
One billion.
Small, yet never truly small.
"Right now…"
I fitted the fragments of memory together.
May 2022.
The great catastrophe that hit the coin market then!
Whoosh.
The ultimate investment method automatically replayed and flashed through my mind.
"Khh."
A groan slipped past my lips from sheer excitement.
The curves of those things filling my head, riding the waves.
"Coins!!"
The coins the kids these days liked, the ones Grandmother had mentioned—only coins were the answer!
"They're all dead!"
Once I set the goal, Grandmother's gift became enormous.
If the future flow did not change from here, I would…
Tap.
I picked up my smartphone.
I opened the Upbit screen—Korea's number-one coin exchange.
It was the site I had joined out of curiosity to celebrate becoming an adult.
Back then I had played at being an investor with a hundred-thousand-won allowance.
Looking at it again after returning, mixed feelings flooded me.
"It's different from then."
The clumsy Ha Taewoong who had buried himself in a university club dreaming of reversing his life was gone.
I had jumped into the coin market without any background knowledge and lost even what I did not have.
I was not the only one.
Classmates, seniors, juniors—almost everyone had gone crazy for coins.
I remembered the number of my remaining assets at the very last moment I washed my hands of coins.
1,880 KRW.
A residual balance so low that even a transfer was impossible.
A wretched state.
I had been liquidated several times until graduation.
The scraps of part-time wages and soul I had ground away all melted into various fees, leaving only fragments.
"The ultimate king of speculation."
In truth, after coins became active a great many gambling dens went under.
May 18, 2010.
Ten thousand bitcoins were traded for one pizza.
After that, in 2013, it started at thirteen dollars each and hit 1,163 dollars.
A few years later it surpassed 15,000 dollars!
People who experienced that new world began to go insane.
I too had been in that mad board at the time.
"This time… I eat as well!"
No matter how I thought about it, it did not feel real.
I still could not believe I had regressed.
A life I had lived fiercely through my youth had vanished like a single night's dream.
Instead, without even dying, the future unfolded clearly before my eyes.
They say life is a dream of a single night—it seemed to be true.
My own regression was absurd enough, yet the graphs from the memories of my ruined life rose vividly.
Bitcoin, Ethereum, Ripple… and so on.
Centered on the key high and low timing points they surfaced with uncanny clarity.
Screens flowing along the waves of the graphs.
Even the world's major economic currents continued in a panorama.
Commodities, bonds, foreign exchange, and more.
It was breathtaking.
The habit of a business-school graduate who had always kept an eye on global economic flows had produced this kind of result.
"Cheat-level buff…"
The miscellaneous knowledge I had half-absorbed in the past was unnecessary.
The information I had shared while living and dying with the seniors, juniors, and peers of the investment club.
The rough waves of the coin market that rose and crashed overnight, crushing expectations.
We had acted as if we possessed great investment sense.
Staring at graphs, tearing into chicken, sucking down coffee, staying up all night—that had been daily life.
We had patched together various indicators used in the stock market and applied them.
Focusing on Elliott Wave Theory we designed for profit.
Fibonacci retracements, volume profiles, trend lines, MACD, RSI, Stochastic, and more.
We borrowed countless auxiliary indicators.
All of us challenged with hot hearts and cold reason as weapons.
Looking back we had been far too young and immature.
Only spirit had led the way.
If one of the group luckily made a killing, FOMO arrived and herd trading kicked in.
Collectively our blood boiled and paralyzed rational judgment.
Everyone who shared the club room gradually became wrecks.
When we rode the rising wave our hearts tightened and we could not hold.
When it fell we strangely became bold and jumped into buying.
Money melted by the second.
Reason melted as well.
In the end all that remained was the miserable reality of losers and balances stuck to the floor.
"How do you beat the whales? It's a completely rigged gambling den."
I was diving back in.
Still only a small fry just beginning.
"The one who eats is king!"
This time I was entering a board I already knew.
Even large stocks like Ilsung Electronics were managed and toyed with by the main forces.
The entire global stock market was manipulated by Wall Street.
Against those who built and spun boards spanning decades at minimum, a small fry could never win.
Especially the ants.
What they did was simply fill and fatten the main forces' pockets.
At this very moment the perfect target most suitable for investment surfaced in my memory.
"The fallen Moon…"
My whole body truly trembled.
My heart raced like mad.
It was still in a stable state before the crash.
A few days later would be the jackpot.
A scammer trash coin that would plummet 99.9999 percent!
"Grandmother… thank you so much!"
Bitcoin was still lingering in the mid-to-high thirty-million-won range.
A few years later it would soar vertically to nearly 150 million won.
Simply holding it would make one a multi-billionaire.
If I had no dream I could have been satisfied with that much.
But the dream I had lost!
I wanted to reclaim it.
Conquer the chaebols with coins!
"Not enough. Far from it!"
The chaebols had solidly built their towers for decades.
Their core assets were the cartels of politics, economics, and the legal world.
"I have to create capital of a level that cartels cannot even dare approach…"
The excitement cooled into coldness.
"Heart hot! Head cold!"
It was the principle Dad had emphasized again and again.
The single most important rule for living in the world.
"I'll enjoy the Children's Day gift well!"
I liked the number that pointed to the day I newly opened my eyes.
This was the year the coins that had hit bottom and slept began to rise and awaken.
I gazed at the beautiful curved graphs.
My mouth watered.
From this period for a full month the coin market would rock violently.
And at the head of the crash stood the fall of the Moon!
The Moon Grandmother had spoken of!
I clenched my fist hard.
The fall of the Moon was a gigantic gambling board that could never come again.
Even back then there had been a huge number of people who made fortunes through short selling.
"I'll thrust a spear into your heart."
Clack-clack-clack.
"The battlefield… is Binance."
Binance, which would become the main trading warzone for my new life.
The world's number-one coin exchange.
The market I had opened and then left idle.
Together with Upbit, the world that would take responsibility for my future.
Clack-clack-clack.
My hands moved quickly and accurately.
Time flowed freely—fast, then slow.
"USDT purchase complete!"
The synonym for Tether, the stablecoin fixed at one dollar.
I immediately copied the address and entered it.
Having devoted myself to this work for several years in the past, my speed was extremely fast.
"Transfer."
It transferred at a speed incomparable to other coins.
And then…
"Even if the future twists, I will not go down like back then. Instead… if I succeed."
Thump! Thump!
My heart began to leap like mad.
At last I had raised the spear of the brave—short selling!
And!
Puuuk!
I drove it into the heart of the Moon.
"You're mine!!"