I woke up around noon.
"Ugh!"
My head was splitting. I should've stopped drinking earlier last night.
But where am I?
Seeing the comic books scattered across the floor, I realized I was at Taekgyu's place.
As I sat there, unable to gather my thoughts, Taekgyu spoke up.
"Did you sleep well? I ordered burgers for your hangover."
"…"
You didn't just order them because you wanted to eat them, right?
If you knew that I needed a hangover cure, then you should have ordered hangover soup!
Still, since I was in no position to complain, I sat on the floor and started unwrapping the burger.
"What happened yesterday?"
"Well…"
I ran into my ex-girlfriend and had a vision.
I stopped short of explaining. If I told him I foresaw myself becoming the CEO of OTK Company, wouldn't he think I'm plotting to take over his company?
I had no such intentions, but I didn't want any misunderstandings, so I glossed over it.
"I don't remember much."
Taekgyu looked shocked.
"Then what about our promise last night?"
"What promise?"
"Brotherhood!"
I raised my hand to block the burger crumbs flying out of his mouth.
"Alright, alright, let's eat first and then talk."
With the alcohol on an empty stomach, I was hungry anyway. I unwrapped the burger and asked a practical question.
"Have you ever invested before?"
"I haven't, but you have."
Taekgyu has never been into finance. His "investment" in Bantcoin wasn't intentional—he simply sold off online game characters and equipment for it instead of cash.
Even he didn't expect it to blow up.
Well, unless you count the time we both bet on WTI crude oil, that's about the extent of it.
Luckily, I had some experience with investing.
I joined an "Investment Club" as soon as I entered university, did some study sessions, and even opened an account to make direct investments.
The problem was…
"It was more like penny investing with just 1 million won."
The bigger problem was…
"I lost half of it."
After all that effort, I lost 500,000 won. That's a negative 50% return on investment.
"But you went to Korea University's Business School, so you must've learned something, right?"
"I only went there for a year."
People think business school teaches grand and important things, but in the first year, you only take three introductory courses that barely scratch the surface.
Most of what I know came from club activities.
"How much is in the account now?"
"About $12,55 million dollars."
"So around 13.8 billion won?"
"If you subtract your share, it's exactly 13 billion."
Thanks to investing in WTI, the amount increased by $630,000.
This is an enormous sum most people won't ever see in their lives. What can we do with this much money?
In investing, the size of your capital is crucial.
To make 100 million won with 10 million won, you'd need a 1,000% return. But with 10 billion won, a mere 1% return would suffice.
The reason Taekgyu made 700 million won so easily from WTI was because of his initial capital.
Of course, having more money also means bigger risks of losing it all…
But it's still better than penny-investing.
"So, where should we start?"
Taekgyu was brimming with excitement. I'd known him since middle school, but I'd never seen him this fired up.
What's with this guy, who already has 13 billion won, wanting to invest more? He could live off the interest comfortably for life.
"What do you want to do with the money?"
At my question, Taekgyu blinked and asked back.
"Do I need to want something?"
The world is full of things to do with money. Most people just can't afford to do them.
"A nice house, a fancy car, maybe?"
"This house is good enough, and I like my car."
Taekgyu eats whatever's in front of him, wears whatever he has, and doesn't spend much on hobbies either.
"Then why do you want to make more money?"
With an obvious answer, he said, "The more money you have, the better."
"…"
It's hard to argue with such a straightforward statement.
"And it's fun."
Making money is fun. Losing it isn't.
Then Taekgyu turned the question on me.
"What about you? What do you want to do with money?"
"I'll tell you later."
To invest, I need to foresee something.
I need that hologram to appear in front of my eyes like last time. But I have no idea when or how it'll show up.
I recalled what happened before. I wasn't sure, but it felt like the vision was triggered when I encountered specific information.
Could I foresee financial outcomes as Taekgyu suggested?
"For now, I need information."
---
I told my mom I'd be staying at Taekgyu's place for a while.
For days, I sat in front of a computer reading every recent economic article I could find. I looked up the largest stocks on the market by market cap and studied them one by one.
A flood of information came in daily. In investing, information is as important as capital.
Stock prices, oil prices, gold, exchange rates, and bond yields all fluctuate based on information.
With today's well-developed disclosure system, institutions and companies are required to share key information. With just a few clicks, you can find out the pros and cons of any investment.
The problem is, the information I can access is also available to everyone else. And widely known information loses its value.
Whether it's good news or bad, it's already priced into the market.
Stocks with positive prospects are already high, and those with negative prospects are already low.
Trading based on public information is just chasing the market.
I needed information like the MountainHill bankruptcy or the OPEC production cut deal—something only I knew.
But after staring at the monitor all day, nothing appeared before my eyes.
"Getting any vibes?"
"None."
All I'd learned was that the government's economic policies were a mess and the economy was as bad as the IMF crisis.
"Even if you foresee something, it won't happen right away. Take your time."
"…"
Was I rushing things too much?
As I pondered this, Taekgyu said, "Shouldn't we write up a contract first?"
"What kind of contract?"
"A contract to split the profits 50/50."
"Does that even matter when it's between us?"
I meant it sincerely.
If he was someone who didn't keep promises, he wouldn't have sent me 500 million won in the first place. And I trusted him with my 800 million won in his account without worry.
Still, Taekgyu insisted on drafting a contract. It stated he'd take full responsibility for any losses while splitting profits equally with me.
"My sister says it's better to settle these things clearly, even with close friends. You sign too."
We signed two copies of the contract and kept one each.
After folding mine and tucking it into my wallet, I turned off the computer and stood up.
"I need coffee."
Opening the fridge, I found beer, cola, and juice. Unlike me, Taekgyu only drinks sweet stuff.
No wonder he's gaining weight.
I debated whether to go out for coffee when my phone rang.
Ring-ring!
The number was unfamiliar. Spam?
I decided to answer.
"Hello?"
[Is this Kang Jinhoo's phone?]
It was a woman's voice.
"Yes, it is. Who's this?"
[Ah, this is Shin Yuri, senior.]
"Shin Yuri…"
[You remember me, right?]
I recalled the freshman I'd seen at a drinking party. Her blonde hair made her memorable.
"How did you get my number?"
This was a newly activated phone after my discharge, so very few people knew the number.
[I asked Minyoung senior for it.]
"Oh."
That guy just handed out my info like that?
[Where are you right now?]
"In Gangnam…"
Her voice brightened.
[Perfect! I'm in Gangnam too.]
"Really?"
But why is that "perfect"?
[What are you doing now?]
"I was about to go get coffee."
[Even better! I was thinking about getting coffee too. Would you like to go to a café together?]
"Hmm?"
Why does she want to meet out of the blue?
[Where in Gangnam are you?]
"Near Eonju Station."
[Then how about Lydia Coffee Lab in Nonhyeon-dong? It should be close to where you are.]
I was planning on getting coffee anyway.
"Alright. When should I be there?"
I hung up and quickly changed into something decent.
Taekgyu, who was gaming, asked, "Where are you off to?"
"Getting coffee."
"Bring back a convenience store meal on your way."
"…"
For someone rich, he sure eats like a broke college student.
---
The café Yuri mentioned wasn't far from Taekgyu's place.
A 15-Minute walk?
Crossing the pedestrian light and heading up a slope, I spotted a large building halfway up the hill.
Sitting at an outdoor table near the entrance was a girl in her early twenties wearing a padded jacket. Her slender legs, clad in tights, extended below a short skirt.
As she brushed her hair back, her smartphone still in hand, she stood up abruptly to greet me.
"Hello, senior."
"Oh, hi."
I raised a hand in return, acknowledging her greeting.
Under the warm sunlight, her golden hair shimmered, catching the light in a way that was almost dazzling.
It wasn't common for students in the business department to have such a striking hairstyle. Korea University's environment was notoriously conservative, and the professors were strict enough to make bold fashion choices feel out of place.
Back at the party, the dim lighting hadn't done her justice, but now, in the clear daylight, I could see that she was quite beautiful. No wonder Kyungil had been so unusually attentive to her.
Still, the real question lingered in my mind: why did she want to meet?