Cha Gyeoul didn’t actually have much greed for money. Even now, his salary wasn’t insignificant, and he was satisfied. There was no real reason to feel lacking. He didn’t enjoy shopping, and half of what he ate came from his own garden, so his food expenses weren’t especially high. On top of that, he owned his home outright, so his expenditures were truly minimal.
So his bank account balance should have been piled high like a mountain…
The reason money came up just now was the investment In Juhan had suggested last time. When the opportunity arose to invest in MK Quantum, Cha Gyeoul had felt as if he were flying. It was like receiving a sure-winning lottery ticket.
But there was one very trivial, minor problem…
“How much?”
“So…”
Cha Gyeoul’s face burned; he couldn’t bring himself to look into In Juhan’s eyes. Too mortified even to lift his head, he rolled his eyes along the marble grout of the floor as he answered.
“Two hundred sixty thousand won…”
The problem was that he had no money. When In Juhan asked how much he could invest, Gyeoul had cleared out his accounts—and nearly fainted. Others said hidden money surfaced whenever they balanced their books, but in Gyeoul’s case, debts poured out from every direction: his overdraft, card loans, even a mortgage against his house. The moment his salary hit the account, creditors descended like ravenous dogs and devoured it.
He’d been in this world for over three months, and he’d inherited the memories of his former self, so he knew he wasn’t rich. But he never imagined he could be this broke.
I haven’t even had a chance to spend any of it…!
In other words, Gyeoul was now working himself to the bone just to pay off debts he never incurred.
And for that reason, he was enduring humiliation at In Juhan’s hands.
“Why? Have you suddenly gotten cold feet? Don’t lie so absurdly. Two hundred sixty thousand won? Ha.”
“N-no! It’s not that—I really…just a moment.”
Gyeoul opened his banking app. All the accounts displayed strings of zeros.
“I really have nothing.”
In Juhan blinked at the phone screen as if his eyes deceived him.
“So right now there’s 256,520 won left in your account? Account balances don’t start in thousands?”
Gyeoul’s face darkened to an almost black-red. His eyes stung with the shame that surged through him. It was unbearable to explain—over and over—just how destitute he was.
“Y-yes, that’s right…”
“Do you by any chance have ten dependents back in your hometown?”
“…No.”
“Then stocks? Funds?”
Gyeoul shook his head. If he’d been in the red because of those, it wouldn’t feel so shameful. He rifled through his past memories to see how he’d spent his money—and nearly died of fright. His biggest outlay had been cryptocurrency. Back when it had been all the rage, he’d been swept up and started trading. Had he lost money at first, it would have been lucky—but unfortunately, he got the stroke of luck that doubled his principal immediately. Distracted by that windfall, he threw in all his savings and even mortgaged his home to buy more coins. He’d bet his life on it.
He hadn’t known then that the coins he bought would plummet month after month until they became worthless and were delisted. It was a scam project. The development team absconded with billions, and he never saw a single won again.
After that, Cha Gyeoul stopped caring about money. He frequented bars where alpha hosts performed, pouring money down their throats until his account was empty and his debts mounted. Yet he hadn’t lost all reason—he’d devised a repayment plan fitting his salary. The problem was that most of that salary went straight toward debt.
“So, the conclusion?”
“There’s no money to invest in MK Quantum…at all! I’m not trying to back out alone!”
Why should he feel ashamed for someone else’s spending? For a long moment, Cha Gyeoul endured In Juhan’s contemptuous stare. He thought this might be the greatest humiliation of his life.
Ironically, he was the most regretful of missing this opportunity.
“So that’s what you’re saying. Fine—get out. I have matters to consider.”
That was welcome news. Cha Gyeoul bowed deeply to the dismissive wave of In Juhan’s hand and turned away. He didn’t care what the boss was thinking. All he wanted was to leave this place as quickly as possible.
As he neared the exit, he realized there was still something he hadn’t said: about seeing In Juhan’s lover at the office last night. He debated whether to bring it up, but decided to remain silent. He was too afraid to speak to someone already in a foul mood.
Right. He must have come looking for some reason. Best not to meddle in another’s romance.
He pushed that thought to the outskirts of his mind.
Today, the weather was fierce—more precisely, In Juhan was fierce today.
“Can’t you explain what’s going on, Team Leader In?”
“Well, we’re still tracing the leak.”
A chill colder than midwinter wind filled the conference room. No one dared speak; everyone averted their gaze from In Juhan.
“Are you just going to keep investigating? You know this global ad goes live next week.”
The issue was the promotional video for the upcoming smartphone. The video, intended for worldwide release, had been leaked by a competitor who’d copied it shot-for-shot—camera angles, composition, colors, even the music. The message was nearly identical, too. There was no way the rival team could have devised this without seeing Saegyeol’s global ad.
And unfortunately, the global business team leader was In Seongje.
“We’re taking measures as quickly as possible—”
“Enough. Team Leader In, step aside. One mistake is enough.”
“But all our preparations—!”
“What happens if you fail to produce a proper ad by next week? Will we launch a product that cost two hundred billion won without an ad? We’ve already committed over fifty billion won to marketing; how will you take responsibility for that?”
“…”
In Juhan delivered the final blow with a face so fierce it looked ready to devour In Seongje.
“So step aside.”
Standing silently behind the conference table, Cha Gyeoul felt a shiver down his spine. He wasn’t just frightened by In Juhan’s murderous glare—what really astonished him was In Juhan’s acting.
In truth, Cha Gyeoul already knew the whole plot.
The one who leaked Saegyeol’s global ad to the competitor was In Juhan himself. A man with enough power to rain billions into thin air if it bolstered his leverage.
Never forget: In Juhan is the villain here.
And the new ad had already been shot; they simply needed to release it on schedule. Cha Gyeoul had, of course, been involved in that work too. Where the needle goes, the thread follows—if In Juhan committed villainy, Cha Gyeoul, his accomplice, would be dragged along.
I feel sorry for Team Leader In, but…
What choice did he have? Refusing to help would be like screaming for someone to kill him. Now that he was bound to In Juhan by destiny, he couldn’t side with In Seongje.
Besides, it wasn’t entirely bad for In Seongje. The hero always endures hardship before triumph. Maybe this was a trial he needed to overcome. After all, he was the protagonist.
“Did you see Team Leader In’s expression earlier? It was priceless. I wish I’d snapped a photo.”
How could someone smile so wickedly? In Juhan—whose evil would make even Satan weep—finally relaxed in his office to savor his successful villainy. Cha Gyeoul didn’t know how to respond.
“It’s all thanks to Secretary Cha. I didn’t know you had such a crafty mind.”
“Pardon? I didn’t—”
“Don’t be modest. It was your idea to leak the global ad, wasn’t it?”
“That was…!”
In Seongje had fussed so much that Cha Gyeoul borrowed the villainous deeds he’d read in Falling Blossoms. He’d only advanced the timing of what was bound to happen later.
I’m sorry, Team Leader In…
In the end, Gyeoul’s suggestion had been correct. Evil absorbs you quickly.
“So then, Secretary Cha.”
“Yes?”
In Juhan crossed his legs like a model and sipped his coffee before continuing.
“You’re broke right now, aren’t you?”
“…I- I’m just a bit strapped for cash…”
“In other words, you’re broke.”
Cha Gyeoul nodded, unable to deny it. Unpleasant as it was, what could he do when In Juhan said it?
“But you regret not investing in MK Quantum, right?”
“Y-yes… I do…”
Cha Gyeoul felt a cold sensation as In Juhan’s eerie smile appeared again.
“If you’re that regretful, I’ll lend it to you.”
Just like in dramas, when the villain shows that chilling smile before committing another atrocity.
“W-what…?”
“Money. Three hundred million won should do nicely. What do you think?”imiter