I told my mother about what happened yesterday.
Her eyes widened in shock.
"What is this BantCoin thing? Who issues it?"
"It's a type of virtual currency that only exists online."
"So… it's like game money?"
"Yeah, thinking of it that way might be easier to understand."
To put it simply, the 100,000 won worth of BantCoin I received as a teenager had turned into 13.6 billion won. Of that, 1.24 billion won was my share.
The return on investment was over 100,000 times, but compared to what Tae-kyu made, it was only a tenth.
The difference came down to the characters we sold. His character was high-level, while mine was mediocre at best.
If I'd known it would turn out like this, maybe I should've put more effort into leveling up.
---
The first thing I needed to do with my newfound wealth was find a new place to live.
There was no way we could keep living in a semi-basement apartment that barely got any ventilation. Not only was it cramped and grimy, but it was also bad for our health. My mom's persistent coughing was probably due to the poor living conditions.
I wanted to get the best place I could, but my mom was against it.
"You can't just spend recklessly because you suddenly came into some money."
In the end, we visited several real estate agencies and settled on a two-room villa for a deposit of 120 million won. The building was a bit old, but it had recently been renovated with new wallpaper and flooring, so the interior was clean.
---
Moving Day.
We didn't own much, so there was no need for a moving company. A single truckload was enough. The move was over quickly.
After the truck left, my mom and I started unpacking and organizing the space.
"Do you like the house?" I asked.
She smiled warmly.
"Of course! It's got two rooms, plenty of sunlight—it's perfect."
We could've gotten a better place if I'd spent more, but… she seemed satisfied, and that was all that mattered.
As she busily unpacked boxes, my mom suddenly stopped. Inside a small box were a photo frame, an album, and an old notebook.
With every move, our living space had shrunk, and we'd had to throw out anything we didn't absolutely need.
Most of my father's belongings had been discarded in that process.
What was left in this box were the items my mom couldn't bring herself to part with—my father's keepsakes.
She carefully picked up the photo frame.
It held a picture taken in the yard of our old house when I was in elementary school. My mom and dad stood on either side of me, and in the background was a modest two-story house.
My mom had always dreamed of living in a detached house. My dad had made that dream a reality by buying a plot of land and building the house himself.
The house was completed before I was born, and I grew up there. Most of our family's memories were tied to that place.
For a long time, she silently stared at the photo.
"Do you think about Dad sometimes?" I asked.
With a bitter smile, she nodded.
"Of course. He worked so hard, only to pass away so soon. If he were still here, he could've seen these better days with us."
I looked back at the photo. The young man in it—my dad—felt almost unfamiliar after all these years.
After a moment, my mom stood up and tried to sound cheerful as she said, "I should clean one more time. Jin-hoo, why don't you tidy up your room?"
"Okay."
It didn't take long to organize everything since we didn't have much, and cleaning a small house was quick.
I guess that's one advantage of a small space.
As I sat in the living room, the place felt spacious, though that was probably just an illusion created by the lack of furniture.
We still needed to buy a washing machine, refrigerator, dining table, and beds.
---
"Take a break from working for a while," I told her.
"How can I just sit around when I'm perfectly fine?"
My mom wasn't one to listen to such suggestions.
"Then take three months off. Promise me, okay?"
After some persistence, she finally nodded reluctantly.
"All right, son. I'll do that."
We had spent a significant amount on the house, but I still had 375 million won in my account. (Though about 100 million of that would have to go to taxes once I filed them.)
And I was still owed 740 million won from Tae-kyu.
With this much money, I wouldn't need to worry about finances for decades.
It was exciting yet strangely anticlimactic. Could money really be earned this easily?
I handed my mom a bankbook with 100 million won in it.
"This money is for you, Mom. Use it for anything you need."
"I'm fine. I've saved up enough on my own."
"Well, I'm not fine unless you take it. So please, just use it."
---
After we finished unpacking, we were catching our breath when Tae-kyu burst in holding a roll of toilet paper and a bottle of cleaning solution.
"I'm here, ma'am!"
My mom greeted him warmly.
"Oh, Tae-kyu, you're here!"
He had visited so often that my mom treated him like a second son. While I was in the military, he had come to see her on holidays and birthdays.
"Have you eaten yet?"
"Not yet. Moving day calls for black bean noodles, right? Let's order some later!"
Looking around the house, he asked, "Need help with anything?"
I muttered, "If you wanted to help, you should've come earlier."
Did he show up just for the noodles?
Not that there was much left to do even if he had come earlier.
---
We went into my room, which didn't have a desk or chairs yet, so we sat on the floor.
"Here, have some fruit," my mom said, placing a plate of sliced apples in front of us before leaving the room.
As I speared a piece of apple with a fork, I said, "I read that MountainHill went completely under."
Tae-kyu nodded.
"It's chaos right now."
MountainHill, the world's largest BantCoin exchange, had been hacked.
The estimated losses ranged from hundreds of billions to over a trillion won. Technically, MountainHill should compensate its users for their losses.
But how could a single exchange have the funds to cover such an enormous amount?
In the end, MountainHill filed for bankruptcy.
"What happens to the users?" I asked.
"What else? They lose their money. End of story."
If a similar incident had occurred at a bank, the government would have stepped in with a response—compensation for victims and punishment for those responsible.
But BantCoin had no managing authority, no regulatory body to step in, and no mechanism for victims to seek redress.
It was one of the fundamental flaws of virtual currencies like BantCoin.
According to Tae-kyu, this wasn't the first time an exchange had been hacked. In the past, the amounts were smaller, so the incidents didn't make headlines.
But this time was different.
The scale of the losses made it the largest hacking incident in BantCoin's history.
Several days had passed, but no one knew who was responsible. Speculation ran wild, with rumors pointing to hacker groups affiliated with ISIS or international organizations like Anonymous.
The price of BantCoin, which had been trading at around $1,120 per BNT, plummeted below $1,000 as news of the hack spread.
Within a day, it dropped another 20%, falling below $800 per BNT.
Korean media outlets churned out articles questioning the safety of virtual currencies.
-The Fate of BantCoin: What's Next?
-The MountainHill Hack Exposes BantCoin's Flaws
-BantCoin: The Currency of the Future, Now at a Crossroads
-BantCoin's Trustworthiness Under Fire
-Growing Skepticism About Virtual Currencies
Some financial experts even fanned the flames, claiming, "The perceived value of BantCoin has disappeared. In a few months, it will be treated like Monopoly money."
"It looks like it's heading for a total collapse," I said.
Not that it mattered to Tae-kyu anymore—he had already sold everything.
"No matter how I think about it, it doesn't make sense," he said.
"The bankruptcy?"
"No, you predicting it."
"It was just a coincidence."
"There's no such thing as coincidence. I think…"
His expression turned serious. Did he figure something out?
I leaned in to listen.
"I think you've had a hidden superpower all along. And when faced with danger, that power awakened. That's how superheroes are born, you know."
"...Are you crazy?"
I was stupid for expecting anything sensible.
But Tae-kyu remained dead serious.
"Think about it carefully. This power… I've got it! Let's call it Oracle Eye. How does that sound?"
"Terrible."
While I shook my head in exasperation, he seemed satisfied with his own idea.
"Oracle Eye. Yeah, that's perfect. That's what I'll call it from now on."
"Please don't."
---
Just then, his phone rang.
Riiiiing!
"Who's calling you? Isn't it usually just me?"
"There are others—delivery drivers and spam calls, for example."
When he checked his phone, his face went pale.
"Oh no!"
He answered the call, his tone completely different.
"When did you get to Korea? Right now? I'm kind of busy… No, no, it's not that… Oh, okay, yes ma'am!"
When he hung up, his expression was grim.
"Who was that?" I asked.
He looked like he was about to cry.
"My sister."
"Hyun-joo?"
Tae-kyu had an older sister, ten years his senior, named Oh Hyun-joo.
Unlike her otaku brother, she was a successful professional working for Golden Gate, an American investment bank.
It was thanks to her help that he had been able to set up a company in the tax haven of Dela Island before selling his BantCoin.
"So why do you look like that?"
"She's in Korea. She told me to come immediately."
Hyun-joo worked at the bank's Asia office in Hong Kong and rarely came to Korea.
Perhaps because of the age gap, Tae-kyu had been scared of her since he was a kid.
He grabbed my shoulder and said, "You're coming with me."
"Why me?"
"She's just my sister, but to you, she's practically a godly senior."
"Well… true."
Hyun-joo had graduated from Korea University's economics department, which made her my senior by ten years.
"It's been a while since you've seen her, hasn't it?"
Now that I thought about it, the last time I saw her was before I enlisted, when we had dinner together.
"Fine, I'll go."
Tae-kyu beamed.
"Good choice."
I threw on a padded jacket and stood up.
"Mom, I'm heading out with Tae-kyu for a bit."
"Take care, ma'am!" Tae-kyu called out.
"When will you be back? What about dinner?" my mom asked.
"I might be late, so go ahead without me."