I never dreamed that Kang So-yeon was a web novel author.
'They say you never know what lies ahead for someone... damn, it's true. Does this even make sense?'
I had every reason to think that.
She was one of the top five students nationwide, the kind of girl who could finish a 60-question exam in just 15 minutes and then face-plant onto her desk for a nap.
And yet, here she was—the top TS author on a platform geared toward male readers, not even your typical general web novel site.
"Why's that weird?"
"Oh, no... it's not."
Her head tilted quizzically, and she looked almost pitiful.
Her parents' business failure must have taken a heavy toll on her mentally.
From what I'd heard, she'd moved 15 times already.
"You know, I'd rather meet a guy who's chasing his own dreams than one who's just handsome."
"A guy chasing his dreams?"
That sounded exactly like me.
I'd made 3 trillion won and was in the midst of the revenge I'd sworn to take.
Lately, without any stress, life felt comfortable—my gut was starting to show a bit. Food tasted sweeter than ever, and I slept straight through the night without waking once.
Sure enough, my once-pale complexion was improving day by day.
As I mulled this over,
Kang So-yeon patted her butt and stood up, brushing off her seat.
"A handsome guy might last a year at best, but a man pursuing his dreams? You can watch him forever. Don't you have dreams too, Do-jun?"
I did.
The dream of getting rich.
But So-yeon, you know what?
Once you actually get rich, you lose all sense of money's value.
I swallowed the words that had risen to my throat and flashed a bright smile. What was the point of leaving a good impression when we'd probably never see each other again?
It was a class reunion, sure.
But we only met a few times a year at best.
And I had no plans to show up at the next one.
Coming here just meant listening to everyone brag about their salaries, jobs, marriages, and houses.
No one cared about each other's well-being amid all the self-praise.
'Even close friends turn into business contacts,' someone's words echoed in my mind...
I smirked as I watched her head back inside the shop.
Should I come next time?
Or skip it?
I'd agonized over it all night, but glad I came.
I pulled up Litepia and searched for "Moonlight Girl."
She had five completed novels.
And three more currently serializing.
It hit me—she was a pro who wrote through the night.
'Thanks to you, I had a great time.'
I typed that into the donation message and sent a whopping 20 million won.
[Thanks to you, I had a great time.]
Probably a Litepia record.
'Stay happy.'
I thought that drew the line under our connection.
But no.
I'd end up tangled with Kang So-yeon again later...
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
In the dead of night, darkness settling in.
Kang So-yeon barely made it home after drinks with reunion friends up to the second round.
She collapsed into a chair without changing and rushed to her serialization platform.
There was an anonymous donation.
[Thanks to you, I had a great time.]
'What does this mean?'
Thanks to her, someone had fun?
Readers usually said things like "I was happy reading your novel," not this.
It implied they'd had a great time with her somewhere.
'Who could it be?'
She racked her brain.
Her recent contacts were just family.
Grocery shopping at the mart or service center for her broken phone—those were her only outings in months.
Donors could hide their nicknames.
Litepia prioritized privacy; without a request, identities stayed hidden.
She decided to let it go.
No need to pry if the donor wanted anonymity.
"Thank you."
Cumulative views: 40 million.
Revenue from the novel: 420 million won.
All of it went to paying off her parents' debts after taxes.
Right when living expenses were tight,
this sudden 20 million won covered her for a while.
She'd loved books since childhood; writing was her peak happiness. She'd lose hours in focus without noticing.
There are many addictions in the world.
Study addiction.
Gaming addiction.
Work addiction.
Kang So-yeon had a severe writing addiction.
"Heave-ho!"
She stretched, slapped her cheeks hard, and fixed her eyes on the monitor.
Planning to write for today's fun readers.
"Hehehe~"
A fun story idea hit her.
Seeing Kim Do-jun after so long might not be coincidence.
'I had fun. I can't even remember the last time I talked so comfortably with a guy...'
Unlike other men with their leering gazes,
Kim Do-jun accepted her as she was.
When she told friends she was a web novel author, they just asked her monthly earnings.
It felt deeply uncomfortable.
The world isn't defined by money alone.
Isn't true beauty in giving your all in your field?
'Do-jun accepted me as an author. He respected me...'
His eyes were different.
He listened first, then asked gentle questions.
Questions that didn't burden or one-up her.
Pfft!
Kang So-yeon smiled sunnily, cheeks burning.
She wanted to see him again.
Talk more.
'He said he was unemployed. Is that true?'
Probably not.
She'd caught a unique scent around him.
A familiar one.
'Definitely...'
Quick internet search, eyes widening.
She'd identified the perfume.
'Th-this...?'
One bottle: about $210,000.
200 million won.
"Imperial Majesty!"
The world's priciest perfume, Guinness-listed, with a 2.4 million won premium per ounce.
Limited edition—price only rose over time.
"It must be at least 300 million now, and Do-jun wore this?"
Must be wrong.
Yeah, just a big mistake.
Do-jun said he earned 2.5 million a month.
Even earning 100 million monthly, this was too extravagant.
No way.
Impossible.
No regular person buys that without loan sharks or big bucks.
[Thanks to you, I had a great time.]
The message flashed—why now?
This clashed with the perfume thought. No coincidence.
She shuddered like struck by lightning.
Kang So-yeon, often praised for her smarts,
felt an itchy dissonance.
Something jammed tight.
"Uh... huh?"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Argh, fuck!"
I'd made a fatal mistake.
I'd ditched the luxury car and designer watch to hide my wealth,
but went to the reunion wearing that perfume.
"Am I an idiot? Early dementia?"
No one noticed, right?
Even sensitive noses confuse perfumes if not experts.
I thought positively.
Venue was a meat joint.
With beef smells everywhere, catching a faint whiff was impossible.
"No one knows. Who obsesses over perfume with AAA+ Hanwoo right there?"
I was too busy stuffing my face.
I read Kang So-yeon's novel.
Damn good.
Didn't know TS meant that, but it flowed. Unique premise, superior style.
'How does she come up with this?'
20 million was cheap; 100 million wouldn't cut it.
Money's value varies.
100 million might be huge to some.
To me? Like dropping a 50-won coin in a playground.
Time flew.
Next day.
Yeah.
I'd binge-read all night.
Eyes bloodshot—zombie vibes.
"Whew..."
Novels this fun?
Always wondered about web novels people raved about. Beyond expectations.
'So fun!'
Binged her others too.
No letdowns.
'Fun read deserves pay.'
Prior 20 million: reunion fun fee.
This: 8-hour lesson on novels.
[Thanks to you, I had a great time.]
Same message, max amount.
[50 million won donated.]
Heh heh heh.
Nothing beats splurging like a whale.
Saved face with reunion pals, too.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Huh... what's going on?"
Lately, I'd been burning cash like water.
Unless I'm nuts, who spends like this?
Now I get why lotto winners crash.
Problem: spending near 40 billion,
but assets jumped 140 billion.
"Fuck, spent almost 40 billion, why'd my wealth hit +140 billion?"
This month's coin profits: 180 billion.
Graph dipped, then skyrocketed again.
Getting scary now.
Others might do anything knowing this.
"Set up a paper investment firm disguised as legit?"
Easy.
Shell in Philippines or Southeast Asia for "investments."
Chaebols do it to offshore funds.
'Yeah. Let's.'
Not scam money.
Legit coin profits everyone trades.
No need to cower like a criminal.
Just tax bombs scare me.
'Domestic cash means tax hell.'
Searched firms.
Found a ghostly investment company.
'Buy that?'
Surprise: Korean owner.
A woman CEO, no less...