On the Subway Home
On the subway ride home, I caught my reflection in the window.
The face staring back at me was still that of a thirty-one-year-old man.
But the light in my eyes was completely different from before.
In the past, I had always felt crushed by the world.
By money.
By work.
By anxiety over the future.
But now, I was looking down at the world from above all of that.
The weight of the provisional contract in my hand felt heavy, as if it were proof of my new status.
Park Cheolmin, owner of a Gangnam apartment.
Of course, it was still an old, small unit with a jeonse tenant—hardly something I could proudly call "mine."
But this wasn't just real estate.
It was the strongest and most solid bridgehead of my second life.
A place that would become my new operations room.
I let out a bitter chuckle.
All this arrogance, just because I'd succeeded with a single fifty-million-won gap investment.
Get a grip, Park Cheolmin.
I reminded myself.
This wasn't the end.
It was barely the beginning.
When I got back to the officetel, I sat down at my computer right away.
I logged into the HTS and checked my balance.
[Available Cash: 22,500,000 won]
The ammunition I had left after paying the real estate deposit.
This money would be my most important weapon—
the tool that would multiply my assets exponentially through the second and third waves of the coming crash.
I tore down the memo I'd taped to the wall:
"Futures margin: 15 million won."
That had been my minimum goal for survival.
But now, I had no intention of settling for merely surviving.
I wanted to rule this board.
I picked up a pen and wrote a new goal.
[Goal: 5 billion won]
Five billion.
Eighteen years ago, it would have been an amount I could never touch in my lifetime.
But now, that number no longer felt impossible.
It wasn't just money.
It meant absolute freedom.
Freedom from doing things I hated because of money.
Freedom from bowing my head to people like Director Kim.
Freedom to give anything to the person I loved.
Freedom to give Ji-ae—and the child we might someday have—the very best the world had to offer.
And freedom to stand tall before anyone, without ever feeling small again.
The past eighteen years of my life had been miserable because I didn't have that freedom.
This time around, I was determined to break those chains for good.
Money itself wasn't the goal.
But it was the fastest, surest road to freedom.
Five billion won was the minimum price of admission.
I knew the future.
And I now held the minimum capital needed to live it.
All that remained— was to bet boldly.
The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual.
With a new goal in place, there was no time to waste on sleep.
I splashed cold water on my face and sat straight down in front of the computer.
Overnight, the U.S. market had plunged yet again.
I checked the numbers and smiled coldly.
The screams of the world were still my delight.
I transferred the remaining 22.5 million won into my futures account.
Then, without hesitation, I bet everything on the KOSPI's fall.
From now on, every day would be a war.
I guarded the monitor all morning, feeling like I was walking on thin ice.
As the index and my valuation fluctuated by the second, my heart rode a roller coaster.
Only after the market closed did I finally relax.
That single day, I made over 3 million won.
But I didn't feel happy.
This was only the natural outcome.
That evening, I became a completely different person and called Ji-ae.
"Jagi, what are you doing?"
"Hey, jagi. I just closed the pharmacy. I'm heading home now."
Fatigue colored her voice.
"Want to go eat the dak-galbi we missed last time?"
"Oh! Dak-galbi! I'd love that!"
Her excited voice came through the phone.
Just hearing it made the exhaustion from fighting cold numbers all day melt away.
We met at a dak-galbi place in Sillim.
Inside the noisy, chaotic restaurant, we sat facing each other over a large iron grill.
As the spicy, marinated chicken sizzled, we exchanged shots of cold soju.
"By the way, jagi…"
Ji-ae wrapped dak-galbi and garlic in a perilla leaf and fed it to me, then asked cautiously,
"Have you had something good happen lately? Did you make a lot of money?"
"Huh? No. Why?"
"It's just… you've been treating me to so many good meals lately. I was worried you might be overdoing it."
I chuckled at her pure concern.
"I'm not overdoing anything. I just want to buy good food for my jagi."
I picked up a well-cooked piece of dak-galbi and placed it on her plate.
"And there's something I want to suggest."
"A suggestion? What is it?"
"How about we go on a one-night, two-day trip next weekend?"
Her eyes sparkled like a child's.
"Really? A trip? I'm in! Totally in! Where? The sea? The mountains?"
She shouted excitedly, without a second's hesitation.
Watching her, I smiled happily.
"Let's go wherever you want. I'm good with anywhere."
"Then the sea! I want to see the East Sea. Let's grill clams and drink soju by the shore!"
"Deal."
We started planning our first trip together over plates of dak-galbi.
"The East Sea sounds great. Where should we go? Gangneung? Sokcho?"
I asked, and Ji-ae answered with childlike excitement.
"Hmm… Gyeongpo Beach in Gangneung! We'll stare at the blue ocean all day, grill clams with soju at night, and have Chodang soft tofu soup for hangovers in the morning! Perfect, right?"
I burst out laughing at her instantly perfected itinerary.
"Perfect. Let's do that. I'll find a pension—one with a full ocean view."
"Really? Wow, I'm so excited!"
We talked about the trip for a long time, completely forgetting about the food cooking in front of us.
Eighteen years ago, I had never planned a trip like this—not even once.
I'd always used excuses: no money, too tired.
Everything was postponed to some vague future.
But now, I was different.
I wanted to make a future with her—right now.
I didn't want to delay this happiness by even a second.
"Alright, it's ready. Let's eat."
I placed well-cooked dak-galbi, rice cakes, and sweet potatoes onto her plate.
"Thanks, jagi."
We clinked our soju glasses. Clink.
The sound rang cheerfully through the noisy restaurant.
The combination of spicy dak-galbi and cold soju was perfect.
The cold, calculating numbers I'd wrestled with all day were replaced by warmth—
from alcohol, good food, and her smile.
"But jagi… are you really okay?"
With a little alcohol in her, Ji-ae asked carefully.
"You quit your job. Aren't you anxious?"
Her eyes were full of sincere concern.
I set my chopsticks down and looked straight at her.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious. But strangely… I don't regret it."
"…."
"I just want to live the way I want this time. Even if it ends in failure, I don't think I'll regret trying."
Without a word, she placed her hand over mine.
That small warmth gave me more strength than a hundred words.
"I'll support you, no matter what you do. So don't worry too much."
"Thank you."
"But promise me one thing. If it gets hard, tell me first. Don't suffer alone, okay?"
"So then… what do you really want to do?"
She asked with pure curiosity.
"You said earlier you found something you want to do."
I fell silent for a moment.
Five billion won.
That was my first milestone.
But it was only a process, not the final goal.
Looking into her eyes, I answered honestly.
"I just want to live freely. Without being tied down by money… or time."
"Wow. That's every office worker's dream."
"And…"
I paused, then took her hand.
"To live every day smiling with the person I love, without worrying about money. That's my real dream."
Her face flushed a soft peach color.
We talked deep into the night about our dreams and our future.
When we left the restaurant, we were already pleasantly drunk.
The cold night air brushed pleasantly against our cheeks.
"I had such a great time today,"
Ji-ae said, linking arms with me.
"Me too."
"I should head in. I have work tomorrow."
"I'll walk you home."
"No, it's right there."
"No. It's dark. It's dangerous."
In the end, she couldn't beat my stubbornness.
We walked side by side through the night.
She naturally laced her fingers with mine, and I held her hand tightly.
The night air was cold—but our hands were warm.
Before we knew it, we were standing in front of her alley.
"I really had fun today. Get home safe."
"You too. I'll text you when I get home."
We exchanged reluctant goodbyes.
I kissed her lightly on the forehead and turned to leave—
Then she tugged gently on my sleeve.
"Why?"
"You're not just leaving like that, are you?"
She pouted slightly, her cherry-like lips jutting out.
I couldn't help laughing.
I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
"Then what should I do?"
Instead of answering, she whispered softly in my ear.
"I love you, jagi."
At those words, all the noise in my world faded away.
I stopped holding back.
I kissed her.
The clumsy, awkward kiss quickly turned deep and heated.
Eighteen years of regret and loneliness melted away on her lips.
Only after a long while did we pull apart.
"Is that enough now?"
I teased.
She smiled shyly and buried her face against my chest.
After parting with her, I walked alone through the night.
Maybe it was the alcohol.
Maybe it was her kiss.
Either way, my chest felt hot.
I was no longer a monster chasing only money.
I had someone to protect now.
And dreams to build together.
That alone made me fearless.
Buzz.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
A message from her.
[Are you getting home safely? I was so happy today. I think you'll show up in my dreams. ♡]
I grinned like an idiot as I read it.
Stopping in place, I looked up at the night sky and replied.
[I was really happy too, jagi~ Let's meet again in our dreams. ^^]
A trip.
Right. If we were traveling, we'd need a car.
The moment I got home, I started searching online for used cars.
A Hyundai Avante HD—hugely popular in 2007.
Or maybe a Daewoo Lacetti Premiere, beloved by enthusiasts.
Just imagining her in the passenger seat as we drove along the East Sea made my heart feel like it might burst.
And so—
I kept moving forward, ever more strongly, toward my new goals.