Winter, age 22.
The long military service had finally come to an end.
“Salute! Sergeant Kang Jin-hoo has been discharged! Reporting accordingly!”
After completing my discharge report to the battalion commander, the reality of my discharge finally set in. Officers and fellow soldiers followed me to the guard post to send me off.
The company commander patted me on the shoulder and said,
“You worked hard. Stay healthy out in society, just like you are now.”
“…Yes.”
Healthy, my foot.
My once-healthy body broke down here.
***
I took the bus home.
While I was in the military, my home changed several times. The current home is a semi-basement studio in Heukseok-dong, with a deposit of 5 million won and a monthly rent of 400,000 won.
Going down the stairs and opening the front door, I was immediately hit by the damp, musty smell. I opened the window to ventilate the room.
I wondered who could live in such a place, and it turned out that it was me.
Compared to this, maybe the barracks weren’t so bad.
I put down my belongings and looked around. In one corner of the kitchen, there was a small folding table with a tablecloth on top.
I opened the tablecloth.
Underneath were some covered dishes, five 10,000 won bills, and a cell phone. There was also a note on top of them.
“Congratulations on your discharge, my son.
Mom’s going to work, so eat and rest.
I’m leaving you some pocket money, so meet up with friends if you like.
See you tonight.
-Love, Mom-”
“So she went to work today too.”
I heard a few months ago that she got a job through an acquaintance at the customer consulting center in Gangnam’s Lotte Department Store. She couldn’t take the day off, even for the day her son was discharged.
I sat on the floor and ate the cold rice and lukewarm soup.
***
When I was young.
My family lived in a two-story detached house, and on weekends we would enjoy dining out in a luxury sedan.
We weren’t extremely wealthy, but we lived comfortably without envy.
My father was the president of a company—a small factory with about ten employees. He had built the business with his own hands over a lifetime.
He wanted me to take over the family business, so I enrolled in the Business Administration department at Korea University.
I had planned to help expand the company after graduation.
Everything changed around the end of my first year.
The primary client company suddenly canceled the supply contract, putting my father’s company in jeopardy. My father, along with his employees, tirelessly tried everything to save the company.
Growing a company is hard, but seeing it fail happens in the blink of an eye.
On the day the final bankruptcy was declared, my father collapsed on the spot due to a stroke.
I used to think it was just something that happened to others when I saw families suddenly fall apart in dramas or movies.
I never imagined it would happen to us.
With the bankruptcy of the company and my father’s illness, I lost track of how time passed afterward. Our house and car were auctioned off one after the other.
Despite multiple surgeries, my father never recovered and passed away in the hospital.
In a situation where we had to worry about daily expenses, finding tuition money was out of the question.
In such times, a man has two choices.
One option was studying abroad, and the other was the military. For me, who had no money and wasn’t prepared, studying abroad was out of the question. However, the South Korean military accepts anyone as long as they are physically fit, regardless of financial status or preparedness.
So, I took a leave of absence and enlisted in the military.
***
After finishing my meal, I did the dishes and then sprawled out in my room.
The cold from the floor seeped into my back. Excluding the bathroom, kitchen, and a few pieces of furniture, the empty space in the one-room apartment wasn’t even three pyeong (about 10 square meters).
Living in this cramped space with my mother makes my heart heavy.
Honestly, I felt more at ease when I was in the military. They provided food and shelter, and even though it was a small amount, they gave a monthly salary.
However, now that I’ve been discharged, I feel completely lost.
I can’t keep asking for allowance at my age. First, I need to earn some money.
I turned on my phone and called Min-young, a friend from my major.
*Beeeeep! Click!*
“Hello? Who is this?”
“Min-young? It’s Jin-hoo.”
The voice on the other end turned cheerful.
“Wow! Long time no see! Are you on leave?”
“No, I was discharged today.”
“Congratulations!”
I got straight to the point.
“Can you help me find a tutoring job?”
Among student part-time jobs, tutoring is undoubtedly the best-paying one. The problem is that the competition is fierce, making it hard to find a position without connections.
Finding one is a challenge in itself.
Because, being in the military, my brain has completely reset. I’ve forgotten everything I learned in elementary, middle, and high school, to the point where I need tutoring myself.
Nevertheless, Korea University is the top prestigious university in Korea. Regardless of teaching skills, the name itself holds value. In Korea, the name is more crucial than actual skills.
Once I secure a position, won’t things work out somehow?
[Well, it’s a recession here these days too.]
“Please check it out for me. I really need your help.”
[Got it. Let’s have a drink to celebrate your discharge soon.]
“Okay.”
After ending the call, I let out a sigh.
“Sigh.”
Should I work part-time at a convenience store or PC room until I find a tutoring job?
While checking my phone, I noticed dozens of missed calls from the same number.
Taek-gyu, whom I first met in middle school, was my closest friend. Since his parents both worked, he used to come over to my house to play or stay over often.
Why did this guy call so much?
Ring!
I made a call.
“Hey, Taek-gyu.”
He spoke as if he had been waiting.
[Finally, I reached you. Did you get discharged?]
“How did you get this number?”
[Your mom told me.]
“Really?”
It seems my mom gave Taek-gyu my number when she set up my phone.
[More importantly, something big happened right now.]
“……..”
The voice from the other end of the phone sounded grave.
Just hearing it, I could tell something had happened.
Was it something bad?
“What happened?”
[Do you remember I received Bantcoin back then?]
In middle school, Taek-gyu sold off his character, equipment, and gold when he quit the MMORPG “Lutnia,” which was popular at the time.
However, the online game item trading site he usually used suddenly started regulating transactions, so some users resorted to using virtual currency that circulated only on the internet to avoid the regulations.
That currency was Bantcoin.
According to Taek-gyu, Bantcoin has no managing entity. Issuance and transactions occur through a P2P network, beyond the control of any individual or organization.
Bantcoin can be divided up to nine decimal places, usually denoted as BNT.
Even though he had explained it to me a few times, it wasn’t an easy concept to grasp.
Anyway, at that time, Taek-gyu received 11,000 BNTs. Back then, 10,000 BNT was worth about $90, just over 100,000 won.
However, when we were about to become high school students, the value of Bantcoin suddenly skyrocketed.
100 BNT approached $500, and the Bantcoin that was worth just 100,000 won became worth 50 million won!
Thinking he had struck it rich, Taek-gyu tried to cash out his Bantcoin for 50 million won. But there was a problem.
Ridiculously, he had lost the cryptographic key needed to access his Bantcoin account!
To put it in perspective, it was like having money in a bank but losing the account number and password. In a bank, you can retrieve your account with just your name and social security number, but with Bantcoin, nothing could be retrieved without the cryptographic key.
“Aaagh! My 50 million won! My money!”
He lamented that it was as good as throwing a winning lottery ticket into the trash and cried for several days. After that, he completely lost interest in Bantcoin.
“He used to freak out at the mere mention of ‘Bantcoin’, so why is he suddenly bringing it up?”
[Listen without freaking out.]
“What is it?”
[I found the cryptographic key.]
“What?”
He explained to my shocked self.
A few days ago, while cleaning his figure display case, he found a USB that had fallen behind it. Curious if it contained any important data, he dusted it off and plugged it into his computer. It turned out that it contained the cryptographic key for his Bantcoin account.
I was astonished.
“Really? You’re not joking?”
[It’s true.]
Isn’t that amazing?
It should be a moment for cheering out of joy, but Taekyu seemed more shocked than happy.
“What’s the current value of Bantcoin? Hasn’t it gone up since then?”
[As of yesterday, it’s $1,120.]
$1,120 is roughly 1.23 million won.
“If 100 BNT is worth $1,120, that’s more than double compared to back then. It was 50 million won then, so… whoa! That means 100 million won?”
Taekyu replied to my surprise.
[It’s 1 BNT.]
“Huh?”
[It’s not 100BNT but 1BNT that’s $1120.]
“······.”
I was at a loss for words.
After a moment of regaining my composure, I spoke.
“Don’t kid around.”
[If you don’t believe me, I’ll send it to you. See for yourself.]
Ding!
I took the phone away from my ear and checked the message. There was a chart showing the rising graph and the price of Bantecoin.
As of yesterday, it was exactly $1122.
I put the phone back to my ear.
“You had 11,000 BNT, so······.”
As I roughly did the math, my mouth hung open.
“No way······ $135 million?”
[I don’t know if I’m dreaming or what. I’ve listed it on the exchange right now.]
At that moment.
Something appeared in front of my eyes like a hologram.
-MountainHill Bankruptcy-
“······.”
Why am I seeing this? What is MountainHill?
Feeling a sudden sense of urgency, I asked hastily.
“Which exchange?”
[Huh?]
“Where? Tell me quickly!”
The response came.
[It’s a place called MountainHill.]
What?
I shouted at him.
“Sell it right now!”
