Riding the bus home, Park Jin-ho checked the balance of the VIP account he had recently opened at Daehan Bank.
The screen displayed a dizzying string of numbers: 150,521,029,830 won. Over one hundred and fifty billion.
Despite the staggering sum, his expression remained perfectly calm. The lottery had always been his only way out, the only path to this kind of wealth.
This was only the beginning. I can’t be satisfied with this, he thought. I have to make this money grow.
He had already turned down the investment products the bank manager had eagerly pushed on him. He had no intention of letting his fortune sit idle.
I’ll keep ten billion won in reserve and invest the rest in Arcane Coin.
The cryptocurrency had been on a meteoric rise since the previous year, and he knew that next month, its value was set to quadruple.
Park Jin-ho was also aware that the crypto market would eventually grow dangerously volatile, especially as the world’s population continued its rapid decline.
Still, for the next month, Arcane Coin was a safe bet. The fourfold surge was a certainty.
And now that I’m an adult, I can finally open a stock account.
He planned to move his funds into the stock market after cashing out of Arcane Coin. He was just as confident in his ability to predict which companies would skyrocket.
Of course, I’ll have to keep playing the lottery.
The winning numbers were announced every week, and Park Jin-ho had already memorized the combinations for the next five.
He didn't need to know any more than that. After those five weeks, the lottery market would collapse, just like cryptocurrency was destined to.
He could multiply his fortune four more times through lottery winnings alone, and he planned to go all-in on a single set of numbers each time to maximize the payout.
Winning this often might raise some suspicions, he mused. But who cares? They can call it luck. It doesn’t matter.
As long as he held a winning ticket, the bank had no choice but to pay.
After getting off the bus, Park Jin-ho walked into the tiny apartment he called home. It was little more than a cramped room attached to a narrow kitchen, but the familiar squalor didn't bother him. He wouldn't be living here for much longer.
His younger brother, Park Si-woo, was waiting for him, his face alight with anticipation.
“Did you get it? The lottery money?”
Instead of answering, Park Jin-ho simply pulled the new bankbook from his pocket and handed it over.
“Whoa! How much is… one, two, three…” Park Si-woo’s voice trailed off as he counted the digits, his eyes growing wider with every zero. He looked up, his expression one of pure shock.
He had known they’d won big with one hundred tickets, but he had never imagined a number like this.
“The prize was one hundred and ninety-two billion, originally. After taxes, it comes out to about this much,” Park Jin-ho said calmly.
“How can you be so calm, Hyung?” Park Si-woo’s voice was a frantic whisper. “How can you even joke right now? This is one hundred and fifty billion won! Not one and a half million, billion!”
“Shh, keep your voice down. The neighbors might hear,” Park Jin-ho said. “Though I guess it doesn’t matter. We’re moving out anyway.”
“Moving out?” Park Si-woo’s head snapped up. “To a better place?”
Park Jin-ho nodded with a small smile. At that, his brother’s face exploded with joy.
“Haha! We’re moving! We’re finally moving out!”
“You’re that happy about it?”
“Of course I am! This place has bugs, it’s tiny, and it’s still expensive!”
He wasn’t wrong. A monthly rent of 500,000 won was steep for a place this small, even in Busan.
But they had stayed in this apartment, enduring the high rent and the crumbling walls, for one single reason.
This was the house where they had lived with their mother and father.
Three years had passed since his parents died in a car accident.
The memory of his younger brother, lost in a storm of grief, still weighed heavily on Park Jin-ho’s heart.
It had felt like being abandoned in the middle of a dark forest, with only each other to rely on.
When parents die, relatives are supposed to step in and care for the children left behind. But for them…
Every single one of them had turned their backs on the two grieving boys.
At the time, Park Jin-ho had been a freshman in high school, and Park Si-woo just a sixth-grader.
They were forced to learn how to survive on their own at far too young an age.
That was when he had started working part-time jobs.
With Park Si-woo still in elementary school, Park Jin-ho had to shoulder the burden of all their living expenses.
He was lucky to find a restaurant owner willing to hire a high school student, but…
He wouldn’t have called the man kind.
The owner who had docked his pay and exploited him at every turn was just another kind of bully, another hardship to endure.
The crushing rent, his boss’s abuse, the tormentors at school… he had grit his teeth and borne it all.
But now, he was an adult. He had money. The time for endurance was over.
He had tried so hard not to leave the last home his parents had known, clinging to their memory.
But it was time to finally let them go.
After countless regressions, after living and reliving his life within these same walls, the lingering attachments had finally faded. There were no regrets left.
“We need to find a new place. Want to come with me?” Park Jin-ho asked.
“Yeah! Let’s go together, Hyung!”
They already knew where they wanted to move, but there was still a lot to do. They had to inform the landlord, contact a real estate agency, and stop by the local government office for paperwork. And he still needed to open that stock account.
“After we find the house, can we eat something good, Hyung?”
A genuine smile touched Park Jin-ho’s lips. “Of course. What do you want?”
Park Si-woo grinned from ear to ear.
It was peak dinner hour, the time when the restaurant should have been packed. But this one was completely empty.
“Damn it all,” the owner muttered, his face a mask of frustration as he swatted at a fly buzzing near his head. “What kind of business has no customers?”
“This is why I don’t hire part-timers on weekdays. There’s no point,” he sighed, slouching behind the counter.
Complaining wouldn’t change anything, but it was a harsh reality. Tucked away in a narrow alley, a small restaurant like his was struggling to survive.
“Just because the rent is cheap… Fuck. I never thought it would be this bad.”
It was far too late for regrets. He had to keep the restaurant running, one way or another, just to make ends meet.