The next morning, I woke up with hollow eyes after a night of broken sleep.
Ever since I'd poured my entire net worth into the market last night, I hadn't managed to get even a proper wink of rest.
Every time I closed my eyes, the numbers 420 won and 27,380 shares floated before me.
Success and failure.
Heaven and hell.
I spent the night staring wide awake at that dizzying boundary between them.
"It's fine… it'll be fine."
Standing in front of the mirror, I muttered to myself while staring at the unfamiliar face of my thirty-one-year-old self.
But the man in the reflection looked like he might burst into tears at any moment.
Dark circles sagged nearly to his jawline, and his lips were cracked dry.
I didn't even feel like eating breakfast.
I forced myself to scoop a spoonful of cold rice soaked in water into my mouth, but it tasted like chewing sand.
In the end, I set the spoon down.
9:00 a.m.
The stock market opened.
With something close to reverence, I sat down in front of the computer and launched the HTS.
The sharp beep of the boot-up sounded like a countdown to my life itself.
My heart pounded, starting from my heels and reverberating all the way up to my skull.
I logged in and checked my account.
Nothing had changed.
Daeyoung Tech — 27,380 shares.
With trembling hands, I opened the price window.
The opening price was 425 won.
Five won higher than yesterday.
But that was it.
The stock neither rose nor fell, hovering sluggishly between 420 and 425 won.
The order book was practically empty—just a few dozen shares on each side.
Trading volume was abysmal.
Like the stillness before a storm, the market showed absolutely no interest in Daeyoung Tech.
I went back into the Paxnet discussion board.
It was still overflowing with wailing shareholders.
Title: Another flat day. I'm sick of this.
Content: This trash stock—why am I even looking at it? Just delist it already.
Title: Anyone still running hope circuits?
Content: U.S. Company A rumor? LOL. Wake up. Any idiots still falling for that?
I closed the window with a bitter smile.
In this entire world, I was the only one who believed this stock would rise.
That feeling—when everyone says no, and you alone say yes.
This wasn't just an investment anymore.
It was a lonely battle, waged against the entire world.
Time crawled by like torture.
Morning passed. Afternoon came.
Daeyoung Tech still didn't budge.
I skipped lunch, staring blankly at the monitor.
It felt like my blood was drying up.
Margin settlement date.
That phrase began to dominate my thoughts.
Today was D-2.
By the day after tomorrow, I had to repay the roughly 7 million won I'd borrowed on margin.
If the price didn't rise by then—
All my shares would be forcibly liquidated at market price.
I'd lose everything—and still be left with several million won in debt.
I swallowed hard.
Is my memory really that reliable?
The confidence I'd had last night was gone, replaced by venomous doubt.
This was a memory from eighteen years ago.
And one I'd only heard in passing—possibly nothing more than a drunk old man's bragging.
Had I really gambled everything on something so uncertain?
I spent the entire first day drowning in regret and anxiety.
The second day dawned.
D-1.
Tomorrow, everything would be decided.
Once again, I hadn't slept at all.
I forced caffeine into my system to stay conscious, but my eyes were bloodshot like a rabbit's.
I couldn't stay cooped up in my studio any longer.
Being alone in that cramped space made negative thoughts coil tighter and tighter around me.
I stepped outside without any destination in mind.
But before I realized it, my feet were carrying me toward a PC bang.
I took a seat in a smoky corner and opened the HTS.
9:00 a.m.
The opening price was 415 won.
Five won lower than yesterday.
My heart felt like it dropped straight to the floor.
"Damn it…"
The curse slipped out on its own.
The stock wasn't rising.
It was falling.
Volume was still nonexistent.
Like a madman, I mashed the F5 key.
The numbers didn't change.
As time passed, my fingers grew colder and colder.
I was wrong. My memory was wrong.
Despair began to seep into every part of me.
I was going to lose everything.
No—worse than that.
I'd fall straight into a negative life without even getting started.
Just then—
My slide phone rang loudly in my pocket.
Caller ID: Lee Jin-woo (Dotori).
I hesitated, then answered with shaking hands.
"Hello."
"Hey, Park Cheol-min! Where are you? Why do you sound like that? Are you sick?"
Jin-woo's voice was full of concern.
"No… just a bit."
"Don't tell me—it's because of stocks, right? I saw the news. KOSPI hit another all-time high. You didn't bet on a drop, did you?"
This guy was annoyingly sharp.
I couldn't bring myself to answer.
Taking my silence as confirmation, Jin-woo sighed.
"Ha… you idiot. I told you to be careful. So—how much did you lose?"
"I don't… know yet."
"Sell now. Before you get hurt even worse. Money can be earned again. People matter more."
He meant it.
But his sincerity stabbed me like a knife.
Earn it again?
You don't know.
This chance is everything to me.
If I miss it, I'll drown in poverty for another eighteen years.
"…."
"Cheol-min, are you listening? Where are you? I'm coming over."
"No. Don't. I'm fine. I want to be alone."
I hung up.
Then I closed the HTS.
I couldn't look at it anymore.
I left the PC bang.
My head completely blank, I wandered the streets.
Only a few hours remained.
At 3:00 p.m., the market would close—and everything would be over.
After leaving the PC bang, I wandered like a man whose soul had left his body.
I couldn't hear anything.
I couldn't see anything.
I was just an empty shell, dragging my feet forward.
I don't know how long I walked.
Eventually, I collapsed onto an old bench in a neighborhood park.
The sunlight was harsh, but I felt nothing.
Children's laughter.
The cooing of pigeons.
Everything felt like a distant world unrelated to me.
I took out my slide phone.
2:30 p.m.
Thirty minutes until judgment.
I wished time would just hurry up and end it.
I wanted this hellish waiting to stop.
You idiot.
I mocked myself.
Gambling your life on a rumor from eighteen years ago.
Even after regressing, all you do is fall into an even bigger gamble.
Forty-nine or thirty-one—it didn't matter.
At my core, I was still the same.
Pathetic.
Foolish.
Greedy.
It's over.
I closed my eyes.
Soon, my shares would be dumped through forced liquidation.
I'd be buried in debt, back to a miserable day-labor life.
The swing dance club.
Jin-woo.
All of it would vanish, as if it never existed.
Maybe that was for the best.
Someone like me didn't deserve a new life anyway.
Just as I surrendered completely—
"Hey! What the hell are you doing here?!"
A shout tore through my ears.
I flinched and opened my eyes.
Jin-woo stood there, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.
"Y-you… how—"
"How what?! After you hung up, I got a bad feeling and searched every damn PC bang in your neighborhood, you bastard!"
He plopped down beside me, breathing hard.
"What's wrong with you? Something's going on, isn't it? Tell me. I'll listen."
His eyes were full of genuine concern.
And the moment I saw them, something inside me broke.
For the first time in eighteen years, I wanted to show someone my weakness.
But I couldn't speak.
Instead, I lifted my trembling phone and showed him the screen.
415 won.
Jin-woo stared at it in silence.
Then he gently patted my shoulder.
"It's okay."
That single sentence shattered every defense I had.
"What do you mean it's okay?! I'm finished! It's all over!"
I broke down, sobbing like a child.
My cries tore apart the peaceful afternoon in the park.
I cried for a long time.
A thirty-one-year-old man, bawling on a park bench like a kid.
People passing by glanced over, but I didn't care.
Eighteen years of suppressed regret, resentment, fear, and despair burst out all at once.
Jin-woo said nothing—he just kept patting my shoulder.
That rough but warm touch only made it hurt more.
Eventually, my tears dried up.
"…."
"Done crying?"
He asked carefully.
I nodded.
"You're a real sight. I'm going to die of embarrassment living in this neighborhood."
Even as he scolded me, he pulled a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over.
I wiped my tear- and snot-covered face.
"Sorry."
"Sorry for what? We're friends."
We fell silent.
I stared blankly at the sky.
My phone read 2:58 p.m.
Two minutes left.
It was over.
My heart felt strangely empty—and calm.
So this was my fate.
There was no regression.
Maybe this was just a long dream before death.
I pressed refresh one last time.
And then—
BZZZT— BZZZT—
My phone vibrated violently.
So did Jin-woo's.
"Huh? What is this?"
It wasn't a call or text.
It was a breaking alert—the kind brokerage firms sent during major news.
With trembling fingers, I opened it.
Across the screen:
[Breaking] KOSDAQ 'Daeyoung Tech' announces exclusive next-gen mobile component supply contract with U.S. Company A
"..."
I couldn't breathe.
I rubbed my eyes and looked again.
The text didn't disappear.
"Hey, Cheol-min! Isn't this Daeyoung Tech—the stock you were talking about?!"
Jin-woo's voice sounded distant.
I shot to my feet.
Then I ran—like a madman—back to the PC bang.
Please.
Please, don't let me be too late.
I burst inside and sprinted to my old seat.
It was still empty.
I logged into the HTS.
Checked my account.
And what I saw—
I couldn't believe it.
Daeyoung Tech
Next to the name, a bold red arrow.
475 won (+13.09%)
The stock was already nearing its upper limit.
And my evaluation balance—
It had blown past my original investment.
"...!"
I stood frozen, hand on the mouse.
Hot tears streamed down my face again.
But these weren't tears of despair.
They were tears of triumph.
I did it.
I had won my first battle—
Against this insane world.