Unlike in my past life, the end of 1997 turned out to be relatively warm and uneventful.
Thanks to a sharp decline in overseas travel demand, there were few aviation accidents, and the civilian economy began slowly loosening up around the presidential election.
Well... there were a few rotten bastards who siphoned off the gold that people had collected during the gold donation campaign—but I bought all of it. Thanks to that, the market didn’t get disrupted.
Ah, and of course I informed the press.
– ‘These bastards! How dare they embezzle the gold the citizens donated?’
– ‘Trash! They’re practically the Mirae Group!’
– ‘Daehwa Trading handed over every ounce of gold to the banks? Well, of course they should—it was meant to supplement our foreign reserves! But those who sold it off in secret? What the hell were they thinking?’
– ‘But I heard Daehwa Trading bought the gold back mid-way... so where did it go?’
– ‘Is that even important right now? Are you a commie or what? You saying you don’t care if the country collapses?!’
It was essentially a monopolistic move by the Daehwa Group to dominate the market—but no one tried to stop us. Compared to all the crooks around, Daehwa seemed relatively upright and respectable.
Mm, that’s an irrefutable and righteous truth. Anyone would look at Miss Yoo Ha-yeon, the heir apparent of Daehwa Group, and think, “What a decent person.”
‘Who am I again?’
The perfect scorer on the college entrance exam. Officially the wealthiest person in South Korea. Youngest director of the Alpha Fund. The living black swan of the semiconductor industry.
Yoo Ha-yeon.
“Aha-hah, that’s right.”
Just imagining it made me squirm with excitement. Maybe it’s because I was born in Korea, but I love hearing compliments from those around me the most.
“...You seem to be in a good mood today, Miss.”
“Shhh, quiet. Someone might hear.”
Students around the classroom whispered among themselves. But I was in too good a mood to care—I just shrugged my shoulders.
Drinking? Please. I’d erased that from memory ages ago.
...Actually, no—I hadn’t.
“Ugh...!”
Damn it, I remembered again.
I clutched my head and let out a groan.
“Why’s she like that now? She looked happy just a second ago.”
“Leave her alone. Probably had a bad dream or something.”
Students around me whispered again. But unlike earlier, I was in a foul mood now, scowling and pointing.
“Hey, Go Yeon-woo. Want to shut up?”
“...Sorry.”
“Hmph, should’ve done that in the first place. Pull up the blinds, will you? Let the sunlight in.”
– Click.
Muttering to myself, I stretched my legs and let the sunlight hit me. It was winter, but it felt warm enough.
My seat was treated as special—twice the size and way more luxurious than the others—so it was reasonably comfortable.
“Yawn... but I think this uniform’s getting tight...”
I rubbed my eyes. Since the college entrance exam was over, I’d planned to nap through the school day, but...
It was uncomfortable.
– Tug.
Especially around the chest. Maybe it’s because the uniform had been fitted back in ninth grade... Back then I wore it tight on purpose to accentuate my figure, but now that my body’s grown, it’s a problem.
Tsk.
“Should I bring the new one? We have one prepared...”
“It’s fine. Ji-yeon, the next class is PE, right?”
“...Yeah. Technically, yes? But are you really going to attend class?”
Seo Ji-yeon looked slightly puzzled.
I guess it made sense—someone who barely paid attention before exams wasn’t suddenly going to care about class afterward.
Honestly, it wasn’t just me. Most of the seniors who had finished their exams didn’t bother with classes. The younger teachers just played games with students all day.
“Change it to swimming. It’s not like we have anything else to do.”
“Alright, I will. You really do love water, huh.”
“Floating in water reminds me of being in my mother’s womb. It’s comforting. I’ve never been waterboarded, so no PTSD.”
I hate suffocating sensations thanks to my claustrophobia, but let’s be honest—anyone would hate that.
“...Do you really remember that far back?”
“Logically, how could I?”
I remember the moment the umbilical cord was cut—but nothing before that.
“Miss, your entire existence is one giant piece of nonsense. The runner-up on the college exam got 380 points, but you got a perfect 400? And not just on the exam...”
Everyone around me had shared nearly all of my secrets, so Ji-yeon’s trailing words were met with knowing nods of agreement.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I let out a quiet laugh and glanced over my friends. Their faces, now so familiar, were etched clearly in my mind.
I was genuinely grateful.
Grateful to have met such kind, loyal friends who could tolerate my temper.
“Miss, about your vacation, then...”
Ji-yeon asked cautiously. Ever since witnessing my drunken antics, she’d been unusually careful around me, constantly trying to talk me into taking a break.
“Vacation, huh... Aren’t I technically on one already?”
“No way. You’re still working six hours a day. People don’t say someone’s on break if they’re showing up to work every day.”
“...Fine, I’ll take a break. Let everyone know. I mean it. This might be my only chance.”
I gauged the expansion of the futures market in my head and then let out a breath, nodding in agreement. Ji-yeon shook her head in doubt, but I had a faint smile on my lips.
Time to see if the organization could function without me.
***
And just like that...
Three months passed since the college exam.
Nothing much happened.
Or rather, I had no way of knowing if anything had. At the urging of Ji-yeon, my bodyguards, and especially my nanny, I spent that time attending school like an ordinary high school girl.
I handed over the collection of crisis-stricken companies to Ji-yeon and Yoo Jin-ha and genuinely took time off. Even as Alpha Fund’s director, I submitted an official leave of absence and truly, honestly did nothing.
The first week, my hands were shaking with anxiety—but over time, it got better.
‘Guess I really was a workaholic...’
Every time I read the paper, all I could think about was the political landscape and how to make money off of it—so eventually, I stopped reading it altogether.
But vacations always come to an end eventually.
– Tap.
I walked down the hallway of Daehwa Securities.
Each click of my polished heels against the spotless floor sent a subtle tension through the air. Employees lined along the hallway lowered their eyes as though even meeting mine was a grave offense.
The men’s suit I hadn’t worn in a while clung oddly to my body.
It wasn’t just that the buttons were reversed from the school uniform I wore daily—those sharply cut shoulders clashed with my more feminine frame.
Still, I had no intention of switching to a women’s suit. This black coat, these slacks, the white shirt—this was my last shred of pride.
For now.
– Tap.
“The company’s just the same.”
At the end of the hall stood Seo Ji-yeon. She had once been nothing more than the youngest daughter of a Daehwa Securities director, but had now become my sharp-edged blade.
“Did you rest well?”
She smiled, a satisfied expression that contrasted with the deep dark circles under her eyes.
While I’d been resting, she’d been half-shredded keeping the organization afloat.
“Yeah. Thanks to you... I really did rest.”
A smile curved across my lips.
I guess I’d realized all over again that the world doesn’t stop spinning just because I’m not around.
I’d always known the importance of taking proper breaks to maintain work efficiency—but some things you have to experience to understand.
“I, um... I really wanted to let you rest until graduation, but... as you know, I’m not that capable. If the organization collapsed while you were on break, you’d never be able to put work down again...”
Ji-yeon chuckled awkwardly, admitting her limitations. Though I’d trained her, managing a massive organization for three months was still impressive—so I accepted it with grace.
– Clatter.
A tray full of newspapers rolled up beside me. Not the full editions I usually read—these were carefully clipped summaries of the important parts—but even so, the stack was enormous.
“...”
I calmly gauged the thickness of the accumulated news and said,
“People must’ve died. And a lot of money must’ve been lost. All because I took a break.”
“But the most important person in this world is you, Miss. At least to me—and you think so too, don’t you?”
She was right.
That’s why I chose to take a break.
– Rustle.
I unfolded the paper. The world I’d deliberately ignored—whether talking to family or playing with friends—now spread out before me in vivid detail.
Clear as day.
[Successful gold collection drive... Roughly 200 tons collected]
[Bank of Korea: No gold in reserves—‘awkward’. Daehwa Trading offers 30 tons under agreement]
[BS Investment successfully acquires Seonggyeon Group... rises to become Korea’s 7th-largest company]
[Oil futures market surges unexpectedly]
[Dot-com companies {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} on recovery trajectory... Greenspan says ‘it’s not yet time to raise interest rates’]
[Five years after the Berlin-Bearings Bank merger, a retrospective]
[Wall Street’s power structure redefined—Gamma Bank, founded by Alpha Fund, chosen as primary dealer]
[Daehwa Investment Bank officially launches... So-called ‘Yoo Ha-yeon Faction’ mostly foreign-educated elites]
[Powder keg reignited... Russia fails in Second Chechen War, lays bare capitalism’s ugly face]
[Russia’s oil dumping boosts European economy; U.S. expresses ‘discomfort’]
It was time.
Time to sell water from the Daedong River.