The richest person in the world.

Of course, that title comes with a bit of a qualifier: “excluding dictators and monarchs”... that sort of thing.

It sounds a bit like being Incheon’s Top Swordsman or Number One in Seoul, which I honestly find kind of cheesy, but even so—once the truth gets out—I’ll shoot straight to the top of Forbes’ wealth rankings. Unquestioned. Unrivaled.

Sure, Forbes’ “#1” labels get tossed around a bit too generously these days... but that doesn’t change how much weight they carry.

‘Thankfully, this is only the beginning.’

I don’t plan to stop here. I can’t stop here.

Take someone like Mohammed bin Salman, for example—destined to become Saudi Arabia’s absolute ruler in the future. That guy’s seven years younger than me. The Saudi royal family’s wealth alone surpasses a trillion dollars... so yeah, I’ve got a long way to go.

Sure, a trillion dollars twenty years from now won’t be worth the same as a trillion today—but still. A kid younger than me having more power and money?

That’s... unacceptable.

Anyway, that’s why I still can’t afford to rest. The organization doesn’t run properly without me.

Just like right now.

– Clack.

“Why is this place such a mess? Did you all come here on vacation?”

Returning to Alpha Fund, I frowned at the chaotic scene unfolding inside.

My subordinates, acting like they owned the world, were clearly slacking off.

At this critical moment?

“Ah, um... apologies, Miss.”

In the middle of the disarray, Ha Yeong-il stepped forward to apologize.

“Oh, you better be sorry. What is this? Did everyone get so relaxed just because they made a ton of money? I walk in, and you’re all busy making bets?”

“...We have no excuse.”

Tsk tsk.

I get it, though. Three hundred billion dollars.

Even if you scoured Wall Street—hell, the entire planet—you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone richer than us right now. Naturally, they’d want to blow off some steam.

“Hey, I can afford to play around. I’ve got plenty of money. But you guys? Not so much, right?”

“...Even so, the director-level staff have at least a hundred million dollars each...”

“And you’re satisfied with just a hundred million?”

I slowly glanced around the room.

Some lowered their heads in shame. Others had a glint of greed in their eyes. A few wore strange expressions at the phrase “just a hundred million”...

...

Unfortunately, it looked like some of them really were content already.

Sigh... I suppose I can understand that, too.

Even if they retired here and just left their money in Alpha Fund, they’d still be raking in passive income. One hundred million dollars is over 100 billion won. Even if they spent 1 billion won a year, they’d never burn through it all. The money would probably grow.

Honestly, if both my parents had been alive and well, I might’ve quit here too.

“Well, alright. I don’t plan to stop anyone who wants to leave. You’ve got your own lives, after all. Shall I start taking retirement applications?”

“A-absolutely not!”

“We apologize!”

Suddenly, everyone straightened up with military precision, bowing their heads in panic.

“What? Why are you all looking at me like that? I’m being sincere. Even if you leave, you’ll still get full company benefits. All your money’s tied up in the fund anyway—you’re basically investors at this point.”

Come on, as if I’d run some dystopian ‘retirement’ purge. I’m not that kind of psychopathic executive.

Miss Yoo Ha-yeon always respects individual freedom.

“Some of you must be homesick, right? Korea needs a lot of manpower right now, so I thought I’d ask. You’re still pretty young, so it’s too early to retire, right? I’ll hand you a few companies. You could live like a local aristocrat in Korea.”

I can’t personally manage every conglomerate I pick up in bulk sale. There’s a limit to how many I can hand out to my close aides, and eventually, I’ll have to assign them to people who don’t know me well...

And that’s just not ideal.

It’s better to use the talent I’ve already gathered, and honestly, there’s no one more qualified than the folks here at Alpha Fund.

“...Uh, are you saying... you’d actually give us companies?”

“I’m serious. When have I ever broken a promise? I even gave you all a long vacation this time, right? Took you on that cruise with the pretty girls and everything.”

“Weren’t you also one of those ‘pretty girls,’ Miss Ha-yeon?”

“What? Are you saying I’m not pretty?”

“No, I mean... That’s not what I—uh, never mind.”

.

.

.

There was a brief commotion, but... nothing serious.

Really.

After I spent a while explaining things and soothing the team, a few raised their hands and stepped forward. Most of them were older employees.

“Well then...”

“Oh? What’s the reason? Just so I can take note for your retirement gifts.”

More people stepped up than I expected, and I nodded while jotting their reasons down in a small notebook.

– Scratch.

“Actually, my health’s gotten worse. They say it’s high blood pressure.”

Simple health concerns.

“...I want to return to Korea. I used to think the country had no future, so I planned to bring my kids to the US—but now that you’re in Korea, I feel like it’s okay to stay.”

“I’m the same. When I visited last time, my kids didn’t even recognize my face...”

Homesickness. Parenting issues...

“My parents recently retired, and they said they feel really lonely. I think I need to go °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° see them. Sure, money’s great, but honestly, family’s more important. And it’s not like I’m broke.”

Hmm... most of them had family-related reasons.

Well, that’s to be expected. It was a rough era for everyone. No one got through life without a few scars.

Even if we raked in money like lunatics, the situation in Korea was awful. Naturally, they’d want to return home in glory.

I closed the notebook with a bittersweet smile.

“Sorry. I should’ve paid more attention. Take care of your kids, alright? Hug them a lot, spend time with them...”

My voice trailed off.

Sigh, now’s not the time for this. Sure, some things matter more than money—but not here.

That would be an insult to Wall Street.

I shook my head, smiled gently, and continued.

“Alright. It’s too early to process retirement applications today... so think about it for one more day. We’ll need to finish handovers too. Those of you with health issues can go first, but the rest—hang in there a bit longer.”

***

After I stirred up the office for a while, the atmosphere calmed down again.

Not as chaotic as before—just a little subdued.

I smiled brightly to lift the mood.

“So... what were you betting on? It looked fun.”

With my arms crossed just under my chest and my head tilted, Ha Yeong-il, who had been silently observing nearby, responded.

“It was nothing serious. We were betting on which media outlet would be the first to try and interview Alpha Fund today. Who’d show up first, who’d make the most accurate guess...”

“Oh? What kind of predictions did you make?”

He chuckled.

“Pretty even odds. Wall Street Journal, Bloomberg—those were the front-runners.”

“Hmm, well, before anyone retires, we should reveal the result of that bet.”

A tense silence swept across the room.

Revealing the result—

That was the same as declaring that Alpha Fund now controlled $100 billion.

“You told everyone what to say, right?”

“Yes, even the new hires are fully briefed.”

I nodded.

“Good. Take the people who’re retiring off the official roster for processing.”

Alpha Fund has an unusual structure.

The publicly known CEO doesn’t hold much power. Instead, multiple MDs and their subordinate directors each have their own authority and strategies.

Of course, hedge funds have few legal constraints or formal rules—it’s all about the money. So this kind of decentralized structure isn’t that rare. The more famous a fund is, the more likely it is to have a top-down hierarchy.

And really, Alpha Fund is pretty hierarchical. I hand down intel like divine prophecy.

Anyway, that’s how Alpha Fund presents itself externally... which means the $100 billion won’t belong to just one person.

I’ll take $20 billion, Charles gets $15 billion, the rest of the MDs and directors will split $50 billion... and the remaining $15 billion? The VPs will divvy that up.

“Hmm, is $20 billion too much?”

Once this announcement goes public, I’ll officially become the owner of $20 billion. And in the Korean market, the method by which one obtains $20 billion is... obvious. That means the pro-Korea image I’ve carefully built might take a hit.

“It’s fine. We’ve prepped enough alternative narratives. Just frame it like you made that money here. Or... wait until the bubble pops and say you earned it then.”

“Ahaha, no thanks. I need the fame right now.”

– Slide.

I brushed my fingers across the window where the crimson sunset was glowing faintly and looked down on Wall Street with a soft smile.

“The CEO we appointed still listens to you, right? Set up an interview with the press.”

“...Understood.”

Tomorrow, I’ll make my formal declaration to the world.

‘Finally...’

My slightly flushed face reflected in the glass.

It’s time to stand at the center of the world.