Investment.
Sacrificing your current purchasing power for greater assets in the future.
Those who do it are called 'investors'.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ You have been liquidated.
It happens all too often in Wall Street, the holy land of those investors.
Your assets converging to zero.
'No one ever thinks it'll happen to them.'
Me neither.
One trillion dollars.
The total assets under my management.
Even after losing value from the hyperinflation that shook the world, it's still an insane amount.
Plus, with leverage in play, what I'm actually controlling exceeds ten times that.
That high leverage was what tripped me up.
"I know it was an unpredictable accident. And I know you have the ability to recover. But our bank can't shoulder a risk that might take years to resolve. I'm sure you understand."
No, it grabbed me by the ankle.
The risk of leverage.
Of course I knew it.
In normal circumstances, I'd never screw up.
If it had been normal circumstances.
"Call the bitch."
"Pardon?"
"I said call your fucking boss! That scheming slut pulling strings from behind."
"W-what are you... Mr. Lee, please calm down..."
Twenty years in the securities market.
I've learned plenty from books, but there's plenty more that no book can explain.
What kept me alive on this razor-thin ice is the latter.
My gut is screaming like mad right now.
'This is no coincidence.'
No hard evidence, sure.
But the circumstantial stuff and suspicions? Plenty.
Everything points to one fact.
If they deny it, nothing I can do.
"Re-Representative!"
"It's fine. I'll explain everything."
We're already this far in.
She must have achieved her goal by now.
Non-face-to-face video conference.
The face that suddenly pops up in the bottom left corner is familiar.
'She's been watching the whole time, that vixen.'
Rachel Beeger.
Hedge fund CEO with striking bright blonde hair and porcelain skin.
She's called Wall Street's Witch because of her looks.
But the real reason is her performance.
The fund she runs has doubled the market returns every year, growing like magic.
"The reign of terror is over. We're sick of your uncooperative market participation."
"Reign of terror? So you rigged it to drag me down?"
"Think what you want. You're a loser, and you're out of this market. That's the fact."
On the surface, anyway.
I know the truth.
The background that let her rise so fast in Wall Street's viper pit.
'Must've pulled every connection her family has.'
Rothschild.
The Jewish family with massive influence in American politics and business.
She's their bloodline.
I wouldn't have known without a chance encounter.
"Help me out?"
"Your fund may be liquidated, but your life isn't over, is it?"
It's a mega-fund.
And considering my skills, I could weather most storms.
My predictions were off by five times over.
Now I know why the market moved so abnormally.
Crunch!
No, I knew and prepared for it.
Still couldn't stop it.
Her family's money and power are that massive.
"Shut up."
"This isn't a level you get to chime in on, so shut it."
"..."
My account manager.
Even BOA, where Andrew is head of sales, is a ten-trillion-dollar bank.
Just a pawn in that damn girl's massive con job.
"Want a second subprime mortgage crisis? It won't end with just me."
"Don't worry about that. We've already coordinated with the government for full precautions."
"You moved the White House just to screw me over? Nosy bitch."
"Thanks for the compliment."
Subprime mortgage crisis.
The 2008 mega-event that shook the world when subprime banks collapsed.
Americans say the shock felt like Korea's IMF crisis.
It could happen again.
My fund's assets match those subprime banks back then.
If liquidated in a flash, the fallout would be huge.
'Clever bitch.'
Humans learn.
Even animals do, and America, center of the world, especially so.
Institutional safeguards are in place.
Prevent crises upfront, minimize fallout if they hit.
She went further.
Knew my fund would liquidate, so she padded cash flows in advance and secured policy support.
Practically Truman Show level.
A national-scale scam just to screw me.
"Too bad."
"What?"
"Arrogant, rude, zero cooperation... but as an investor, I respected you quite a bit."
Personal grudge.
So that damn girl mobilized nation-budget-level funds and power to drag me to ruin.
'Haa...'
I knew it'd end like this someday.
This cursed bad blood ending in destruction.
"Hey, you fucking bitch."
"...Pardon? What did you say?"
"All you respect in life is your neighborhood house prices? Talking back to the Fed Chair like that. In the end, you envied me and used your connections to fuck me over."
Sentenced to ruin as an investor.
The scariest thing in the world is someone with nothing to lose.
'That fucking bitch!'
Twenty years ago.
Back when I was green, and she was too.
We crossed paths.
"You're always so vulgar. Extreme, impulsive words shaking public sentiment, cracking the market. Kicking you out was the best decision, even now."
"Vulgar like you in bed."
"Wh-what...?"
We slept together once.
Could happen between man and woman.
One miscalculation.
'Acting like a virgin at that age, fuck!'
Of course, it was delicious back then.
Nothing tastier than a sheltered virgin.
Defiling a haughty woman, leaving my mark.
Most rewarding moment in a man's life.
"You two had a close past...?"
"N-no! That lunatic's talking shit!"
"Your pussy was fucking delicious, you slut."
"Shut up!!!"
A piercing screech that made me grimace involuntarily.
Thought my eardrums burst for a second.
Some things you can't look away from.
Rachel's face flushed beet red.
"I-it's nonsense! Don't believe him. He's just lashing out!"
"I know, Ms. Rachel. Overreacting is what he wants..."
"Unbelievable. Why would I, of all people, want anything to do with trash like you."
Her face has some color for once.
Pretty sure she looked about the same when I first fucked her.
'Lights off was her lifelong grudge.'
Ancient history anyway.
No evidence left.
She'd never admit it.
But her expression is evidence enough.
Wall Street's Witch, famous for poker face, losing composure.
"You were a rude bitch from the first meet, but after tasting cock? Kyaa~."
"Kyaa, kyaaaa!!"
"Why the fuss? If it's bullshit, just ignore."
Had fun with her for a while.
Hollywood-level beauty, killer body, flawless skin.
Sure, plenty of pretty girls.
What can't money buy?
But smart virgins? Rare.
'...Didn't expect to choke on it.'
Problem was, she was too smart.
Even thought the family talk was a joke back then.
"Y-you won't take responsibility? No way?"
Insane obsession.
Lost one virginity, world ends.
I ignored and cut contact.
That started our long, bad blood.
"Ahem! I admit I had a slip-up in my student friendships."
"Admitting stuff today besides house prices."
"...Shut up."
That's when it started.
Freaking out at the word 'virgin'.
'Because of her, I can't even eat kimchi from a fancy house.'
Prestige family + virgin.
PTSD level.
Just forget it, why hold a grudge forever.
Crunch!
Ended up here.
One trillion dollars?
What pisses me off more is losing to a bitch like this.
"So you two knew each other...?"
"Just knew! I'd never date a pig like that."
"..."
To the bitch squealing like a sow.
Regrettably, Rachel's right.
Crunch!
Candy.
Sugar when stressed.
Brain work demands it.
Bit excessive.
Lately, extra stress.
'Fuck.'
Excuses.
Was chubby before.
Far from my young days.
"Piggy, wanna yap again? Who dated who?"
"What, saggy-tits grandma."
"I-it's not saggy!"
Rachel too.
Luster faded.
Time leaves marks.
Wrinkles, thicker jawline.
Even advanced beauty tech has limits.
Still radiates beauty aura.
Age adds gravitas, dignity.
"Ahem! Talking to you is disgusting. Can't converse without vulgarity?"
"Vulgar like the sounds you make getting fucked."
"No!!"
That's the change over time.
I know, makes the bad blood worse.
Crabby old maid blocking my path.
That long relationship.
"She's picky normally, but in bed? Total sub. Freezes when cock goes in."
"Ah..."
"Don't listen! I'll sue. Shut up now!"
Will end here.
This world is all about money.
Lost my astronomical seed money.
"Unbelievable. Final tantrum is sexual harassment? You've fallen low!"
"Hot thinking back? Want another fuck?"
"...I want to bury my past fling with you as black history."
Wall Street's Witch.
Creator of 'Five Witches' Day', market's new terror.
Can't control emotions.
Long lashes tremble.
Bites lower lip, suppressing desperately.
"Planning a comeback? Use that silver tongue to dupe investors for funds? Over my dead body..."
"If you help, maybe."
"Pardon?"
"Film a sex tape. Pornhub stock triples short-term, tenfold with hype."
"You #$^$%!"
Rare sight.
If leaked online, huge buzz among investors.
"I was a fool for pitying you. Fine, Andrew."
"Yes, Ms. Rachel."
"Buy up every top security firm stock. Now! Till we control management."
'Really paranoid.'
No real intent to sabotage.
No one'd believe a loser like me.
Just wanted one last poke.
Tease to bring up old memories.
"One last word?"
"Hmph! Too late to beg. I'll make sure you never return to securities..."
"Your pussy was killer."
"Fuck you!"
And actual fucking.
Never slapped that arrogant ass. Lifelong regret.
'Men wanna act tough in front of women.'
Comeback?
Only if some strength left.
Even a veteran like me drained today.
So I teased.
Truth is, I was raging.
Work needs passion.
'Not short on cash.'
Lose 99.99%, still Wall Street rich beyond dreams.
This booze in front of me.
『Macallan 1946』
Macallan.
Whiskey's Rolls-Royce.
And this is an ultra-rare vintage among them.
Three thousand bottles worldwide, consumed over time—now just one left.
Its value? Literally priceless.
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