—Vroooom.

The black foreign car sped down the road as I stared blankly out the window, lost in thought.

Even thinking it over again on the way back, today’s meeting had been a huge success.

Confirming that the Korean government was indeed heading to the IMF was a big win in itself, but more than anything—it meant I had finally cemented my position as a legitimate player.

—Click.

“...Young Miss, were you serious about that?”

Seo Ji-yeon, who had been replaying the meeting’s recording, glanced over at me.

“What? I’m always serious.”

“No, I mean... that whole thing about changing the law. Wasn’t that more of a carrot-and-stick move?”

Snort.

I brushed my hair lightly with one hand. Even my reflection in the small rearview mirror looked absurdly beautiful.

“Of course not. Like I said—I was serious. You change the law, stop enforcing illegal parts, and make money—problem solved.”

I winked with one eye and smiled. Seo Ji-yeon let out a light sigh.

“...Yes, you did say that. Still, maybe lay off the drinking a bit.”

“Ahaha, I will. I’m bad with alcohol anyway.”

“Uh... how do you know that? Did you drink in the U.S.?”

No, not exactly.

“I just have really low tolerance in general. Haven’t even tried, but I can tell—intuitively.”

Judging from how easily morning coffee hits me, I must be pretty sensitive.

In my past life, I think I enjoyed drinking quite a bit. But in this one, even with all the money I have, enjoying alcohol is practically off-limits. It’s honestly kind of sad.

All that wealth, and I can’t even sip expensive liquor.

“You know... I’ve realized this several times, but money really isn’t everything in life.”

I nodded, having once again touched upon life’s great truth—only to be met with an incredulous stare.

“Says the richest person I know.”

“Well, duh. If you don’t have money, you don’t get to feel that truth.”

The saying “finding peace in poverty” is a lie.

People usually only say that stuff after they’ve been forced out of success and are trying to comfort themselves.

***

Once I wrapped up my business in Korea, I boarded a plane back to the U.S.

Ji-yeon... she’ll handle things just fine.

I was slightly concerned about the nanny, but I’d spent plenty of time training my people to take care of her. She was a civilian through and through—hadn’t stepped one toe into the shadows.

Back on Wall Street, Ha Yeong-il came to greet me.

“You’re back. How was Korea?”

“Ahaha, it was great. I feel refreshed.”

I answered with a radiant smile.

—Thump.

“This is the tape I recorded yesterday. It’s a bit long, so listen to the details yourself. I’m going to rest.”

I’d started recording these kinds of things so others could hear my voice when I wasn’t around, but it turned out to be useful in all sorts of ways. Now I always record key moments.

Like now—when I don’t want to waste my mental energy just before collapsing into sleep.

There’s a mountain of work waiting now that the foreign exchange crisis is unfolding.

I’d given instructions to the Daehwa Securities-trained employees in Korea, but in the end, I had to be the one actually moving the money.

“I’ve reserved a nearby hotel. I’ll see you in six hours.”

“Good. I’ll get some sleep. In the meantime, prep everything.”

As the tension drained from my tired mind, I let out a ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ yawn.

.

.

.

Huh.

I looked around.

Subtle lighting, a luxurious bed, my bodyguard lying next to me...

A hotel, huh.

I must’ve blacked out for a bit. If I weren’t used to this, I might’ve thought I’d been kidnapped to some weird hotel.

I shook the bodyguard lying next to me.

“Liza, wake up. You can’t fall asleep like this.”

“...Yawn. Young Miss, I did assign another agent to guard duty. Expecting me to stay alert after working ten hours and lying under warm blankets in a dark room? That’s a bit cruel.”

“Even Grey’s totally fine after working shifts like that. So are the others.”

“Young men, high on hormones, can’t exactly sleep with you lying next to them.”

“....”

I ignored that and climbed out of bed, switching on the lights to get ready.

There was far too much to do.

***

—Clack.

“All right, everyone. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Returning to Alpha Fund’s offices, I looked around cheerfully.

I liked the air of energy in the room. Everyone looked full of life.

“Phew, I’m sweating from nerves.”

Ha Yeong-il, the head of Alpha Fund’s internal 'inner circle', joked lightly.

“You divided the teams the way I told you, right?”

“Yes. I’m not sure how much we’ll end up using, but we split them into small segments as much as possible. The fund managers who don’t know about you are in charge of dot-com firms or broad global macro strategies. The more reactive, short-term teams are led by our own people.”

“Good. So—how much liquid cash do we have?”

“Based on Korean valuation: 100 billion dollars.”

One hundred billion dollars. That’s about 100 trillion won at current rates.

And soon, that’ll double to 200 trillion. The exchange rate’s going to collapse.

—Hoo.

I fanned my collar as I felt heat rise inside me. This was a once-in-a-lifetime gamble—but worth it.

“Short 40 billion dollars on the won, 20 billion on Korean equities, and place the remaining 40 billion into derivatives. Split it carefully so the Korean press doesn’t catch on. Got that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“The Hong Kong stock market will shake too. Also... I think short-term interest rates will spike at least 200%. So be cautious when betting there.”

“Two... hundred percent?”

I shrugged.

“Yep. At minimum. That’s what my intel says.”

“When did you... Never mind. You’ve never been wrong, so I’ll pass it on.”

“Next, buy 20 billion dollars in Korean CDS, then load up on won put options. When those guys get wrecked, send in discreet staff to ‘save’ them—and quietly acquire their companies in return...”

One of the other directors interjected, waving his hand.

“Wait a second. Young Miss, where’s the cash for those CDS buys coming from? Didn’t we just use the whole 100 billion?”

My heart was already racing, floating in that high-up place above the clouds. I spoke rapidly.

“Oh, the currency and equity shorts will bounce a little before stabilizing. We’ll pull 10 billion from stocks when they dip, and we can cash in early on soon-to-expire derivatives for another 10 billion.”

“Ah... right. And we’re buying those companies because Alpha Fund’s getting too big?”

“Exactly. It’s a little risky, but we have to do it sooner or later. Especially this time. The idiots who sold options will know they’re screwed, so just convince them privately. Or, well... threaten them. Nobody wants to lose everything.”

My brain was exploding with scenario after scenario, dopamine flooding me. So many people who tried copying my option play are going to lose everything—just picking off the corpses will be enough...

“Make sure we stay hidden. That’s key. Disguise the company and move the rest of the team there. How many are in our latest options team?”

“Ten. One VP, four associates, five analysts...”

“Good. Send them. Grey looks promising—put him on that team too.”

—Rustle.

I flipped through the stack of papers next to me. It had to be here somewhere... Ah, there.

“Here it is. The project plan. You didn’t read it?”

“Ah, uh... Sorry.”

He said that, but didn’t look sorry at all. Well, fair. No one but me can memorize thousands of pages in just a few days.

“Let’s do this right. Understood?”

“...Y-Yes.”

—Thump.

The window of the office reflected light like a cloudy mirror. I pressed my hand to the glass and stared at my semi-transparent reflection, overlapping with the skyline of Wall Street.

“Guys, I’m famous, right?”

“Pardon? Oh, yes. Of course. No one normally reveals positions this early. And you’re... well, a young, beautiful woman who loves to praise herself.”

“Right. But you think there are a lot of crazy people trying to copy me?”

At that, Ha Yeong-il shook his head with a sigh.

“...Unfortunately, yes. Even inside Alpha Fund, lots of kids want to be the next Yoo Ha-yeon. Sadly.”

When a crow tries to mimic a stork, it just tears its legs apart. Honestly, I sometimes feel like I’m about to snap—so how would anyone else survive?

My style of investing—one mistimed move, and you’re six feet under.

“Don’t worry. Your benevolent Miss Yoo Ha-yeon will give people a chance. Of course, if anyone in our fund tries to do what I do, they’re getting kicked out.”

“...You’re doing ‘that’ again, aren’t you? Isn’t that kind of tough? Especially in the U.S., of all places.”

One of my specialties: swallowing a half-dead firm, then transforming it into a completely unrelated, healthy company.

Maybe I was clumsy at first, but now? I was good at it.

“That’s why we need to pick people carefully. In the options team, we’ve got that guy with wide connections, right? There are plenty of failed funds. We just need to pick the ones that repay favors.”

“That’s... going to be tough.”

I nodded.

Yes, that would be hard.

Finding someone on Wall Street who actually repays favors.

“No, not just that. I mean... it’s obvious Alpha Fund ruined them. People who don’t stab you in the back later are pretty rare.”

“...?”

I blinked in disbelief.

They crashed their firms by investing poorly—and now they blame me?

Sure, I dug a few traps here and there, but still... If they stepped in it, that’s their own damn fault.