Chapter 7:Money and Talent Pour In

     Chapter 7: Coin Information Rights (2)

The card soon transformed into something like a document and unfolded like a booklet.

[On June 14th at 10:00 AM, the altcoin

 **Liarcoin**, which was listed on Downbit, hit its lowest price of ?59 and then rose by ?27% in just three days. That day, it reached a historic all-time high of ?,008, but on the fourth day, the developer sold off a large amount of the coins he held, causing the price to plummet sharply. The downward trend continued for several days afterward. Eventually, panic selling ensued, leading to a trading halt. It was later revealed that the developer had mass-sold his holdings as a joke after seeing the price of the coin he created for fun skyrocket. Some claimed it was a planned crime in collusion with major players, but unfortunately, there was insufficient legal basis to punish the coin’s developer. In the end, this incident established itself as a case caused by the woefully inadequate legal framework for cryptocurrencies. It was an act that deceived countless investors, yet…]

My mind snapped awake.

Question marks were scattered everywhere, but even so, it wasn’t too difficult to grasp the overall flow.

?27% increase.

It was a hint about the lowest price, and the all-time high also showed the latter digits.

Huh…?

Looking closely, there were enough hints to calculate it out.

If the return rate was 127%, the lowest price would have to start at 459 won. If we assume the floor was 359 won, even a 127% increase would only reach 814 won, which couldn’t produce a four-digit price level. In other words, it would create an inconsistency.

So is 459 won the answer?

No, that wasn’t it either.

If the floor is 459 won and we apply 127% return, the peak becomes 1,040 won. That doesn’t match the ?,008 won mentioned in the information (the last digits), so it’s wrong.

By continuing calculations in this manner…

It was possible. Quite possible.

I could precisely figure out what numbers were hidden behind those question marks.

For a moment, a doubt crept in.

I trusted the quest and I trusted this information, but still—just in case. Would that coin really get listed?

“First things first…”

I needed to sober up.

To shake off the lingering alcohol, I headed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. Feeling my heart still pounding hard, I returned to the room with Lucky, sat at the desk, opened my laptop, and immediately searched for “LiteCoin.”

The most important issue:

The credibility of the information.

That’s what I needed to confirm first.

“Hmm…”

I typed the word and pressed Enter. Sensational headlines popped up.

[Era of Alt coins — Is Liar coin Leading the Charge?]

[Promising Coin, Liar Coin. Countdown to Listing on Major Exchange Down bit]

[Down bit Listing Preparations Underway for Liar Coin — How High Will It Go?]

[Altcoin Dreaming of Rebellion…]

Then one article caught my eye.

It had been posted just 1 hour ago — fresh and hot.

Ryu-seong couldn’t tear his eyes away from the title.

[Liar coin D-2…]

[LiarCoin will be listed on Downbit in two days, on June 14th at 10:00 AM. Since promotion has been minimal, expecting a huge surge might be unrealistic. With most retail investors showing little interest, the future of LiarCoin, which will make a surprise appearance on Downbit…]

The coin was actually going to be listed, with the exact date and time matching perfectly. Harboring any more doubt at this point would be pointless. Letting suspicion pile up would only result in missing the opportunity while doing nothing. What was needed now was reasonable verification and decisive, hesitation-free action.

Now it was time to calculate the question-marked numbers.

I plugged in numbers one by one and tested them.

No perfect match appeared right away. But the longer it took, the more Ryu-seong’s excitement gradually built.

?27%.

The number that goes here isn’t 1, nor 2.

“Not 3 either.”

This time I assumed 427% and calculated — still no correct answer in sight.

His smile deepened even further.

That meant at least 527%.

“Calm down, stay calm.”

Suppressing the rising excitement, he continued calculating.

Not 5 either.

This time he tried 617%.

And soon the result appeared.

Lowest price ?59 won.

A figure that perfectly matched the historic high of ?,008 won.

“Found it…!”

The answer jumped out at him.

Lowest price: **559 won**.

Historic all-time high: **4,008 won**.

The numbers were much higher than expected.

Thump, thump.

Just to be certain, he ran the calculations again, trying every other possible digit. Just in case there might be two correct answers. But there were no calculation errors, and no other matching numbers appeared.

While altcoins can sometimes rise dozens of times in the short term, that’s extremely rare. The risk is also enormous — it’s common to lose half your investment or even over 90% in many cases.

This information was different.

It was future information about an event that would actually happen, and the level of detail was astonishing. Once the question-marked parts were filled in through calculation, this became an opportunity that simply could not be passed up.

“June 14th, huh…”

The current time was June 12th, 11:20 PM.

That meant the massive event was going to happen in just two days. It was no different from looking at an answer sheet with all the correct answers written on it while taking an exam. As long as he acted, this opportunity would allow him to make a considerable amount of money. And if he could use that ample cash to complete quests, earn additional rewards, and steadily grow his assets in a virtuous cycle?

“Hoo…”

Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine.

*

At some point, he must have fallen asleep.

“Ugh…”

When he opened his eyes in the morning, his head throbbed from the hangover. Pressing hard on his temples, he climbed out of bed and shuffled toward the kitchen.

His mother was watching TV alone.

Nyaahhh.

On closer look, she wasn’t alone—Lucky was with her.

Lucky had climbed onto her lap and was purring loudly while doing gentle “makin’ biscuits” with his paws. Somehow, he had learned not to extend his claws at all.

It was pure, heavenly aegyo.

Even the most stone-faced person would inevitably melt into a puddle.

“Aigoo, our Lucky. Having fun?”

Nyaahhh.

“Mom’s having fun too. Oogoo-goo.”

By now, she had become the person Lucky was closest to.

“Mom?”

When he called out in a slightly surprised tone, his mother turned her head slightly to look at Ryu-seong.

“You’re up?”

“Yeah.”

“I made pollock soup, so eat it with rice. I’m watching a drama with Lucky, so don’t interrupt.”

Somehow it felt like his affection had been stolen.

Man… weird.

He let out a small laugh, downed a glass of cool water, then ate breakfast with the steaming pollock soup.

“Khheuu.”

His stomach settled instantly.

“Thanks for the meal.”

After finishing the dishes cleanly, he felt grimy all over. He hadn’t properly washed after drinking yesterday and getting swept up in the information high, so his body smelled sour.

Right. Time for a clean start.

Before preparing to buy the coin, he decided to first wash away the funky smell clinging to him.

He went into the bathroom, took a refreshing shower, and then lay down on the living room sofa feeling crisp and renewed.

Nyaahhh.

Lucky had come over at some point and curled up beside Ryu-seong’s side, burying his face against him.

“You’re so cute.”

After giving Lucky a light pat, he pulled out his smartphone. He downloaded the Downbit app and started the registration process. When he tried to deposit money, though, the procedure turned out to be more complicated than expected.

Pretty annoying.

Still, for the sake of buying LiarCoin, which would list tomorrow, this was something he absolutely had to do. Looked like he’d be busy moving around all day.

“First things first…”

After poking around here and there, he managed to open a non-face-to-face bank account.

Hoo, done.

The reality that he was really going to start trading coins finally hit him.

He had always been interested in crypto, to be honest. But because he had no money, or simply because he was scared, he had kept turning away from it.

But now there was no need for that.

Because the information existed.

That sense of certainty gave Ryu-seong one clear goal.

Investment.

For the first time in his life, that word pierced straight into his chest.

“Investment, huh…”

Something about it made his heart race.

Full-time investor.

The phrase flashed through his mind and, for some reason, made him smile.

Maybe it was possible.

With the desire to do it properly burning in him, he checked the balance in his account.

Total cash on hand: roughly 9 million won.

It felt painfully insufficient.

Since this was an opportunity to see over 600% returns, gathering as much capital as possible was crucial. Being unemployed made getting credit loans or overdraft accounts difficult. The first people who came to mind were his parents, but no matter how he thought about it, he had zero confidence he could convince them.

He didn’t want to worry them for no reason, either.

In the end, only one person remained.

♪♩♩♬♪♩.

Right on cue, the “money fountain” called.

“Perfect timing.”

He pressed the call button on his smartphone, and the voice of Lee Shin-woo—the guy he’d been drinking with yesterday—came through.

(Yo, did you cure the hangover yet?)

“You?”

(I’m dying here, man. Head’s splitting like someone’s hammering nails into it. You sound way too alive—did you even drink the same amount as me yesterday?)

Ryu-seong chuckled under his breath.

“I’m fine now. Soup did the trick.”

(Lucky bastard. Anyway… what are you up to today? Wanna meet up again tonight? My treat this time.)

A perfect opening.

Ryu-seong’s grip tightened slightly on the phone.

“Actually… Shin-woo. I need to ask you something kinda serious.”

(…Huh? Your voice just got real. What’s up?)

“I’m thinking of putting some money into crypto. Tomorrow, actually. There’s a coin getting listed on Downbit and… I’ve got a really strong feeling about it.”

Silence stretched for a couple of seconds.

(You? Crypto? Since when do you even look at charts? You always said it was gambling for people with too much time and not enough brain cells.)

“Yeah, well… things change. Look, I know it sounds sudden, but I’ve done my homework. I’m not jumping in blind.”

(Okay… so why are you telling me this? You want stock tips from the guy who lost 300k on meme coins last year?)

Ryu-seong took a slow breath.

“No. I want to borrow money.”

Dead silence again. Longer this time.

(…How much?)

“Everything you can spare. I’ll pay you back with interest—30% flat if it hits, which I’m 99% sure it will. If it tanks, you get your principal back first, no questions. Worst case, I’ll work it off over time. You know I’m good for it.”

A low whistle came through the speaker.

(You’re scaring me a little, dude. This isn’t like you. You sound… certain. Like creepy-level certain.)

“I am.”

Another pause.

(Alright. Let me check my accounts. Give me ten minutes. But if this blows up in your face, I’m still gonna say “I told you so” every time I see you for the next five years.)

“Deal.”

Ryu-seong hung up and stared at the ceiling.

His heart was hammering again—not from hangover this time, but from the sheer momentum of what he was about to do.

Lucky shifted, sensing the change in mood, and nudged his hand with a soft meow.

“Yeah… we’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

Nyaah.

He smiled and scratched under Lucky’s chin.

A few minutes later the phone buzzed.

[Shin-woo: 4.2 million wired. Don’t make me regret this. And screenshot everything—proof of purchase, sell price, the works. I want my 30% cut in blood if you moon.]

Ryu-seong exhaled hard through his nose.

Total capital now: roughly 13.2 million won.

Still not enough to go truly life-changing… but enough to turn into something very real if the numbers played out exactly as the information promised.

He opened the Downbit app again, navigated to the deposit confirmation—funds were already there—and then to the trading section.

LiarCoin wasn’t listed yet, of course. D-1.

But the countdown timer was already visible.

[Listing: June 14, 10:00 AM KST]

He set multiple alarms anyway.

One for 9:30 AM—just to be in position.

One for 9:55 AM—to double-check everything.

One for 10:00 AM sharp.

Then he leaned back, Lucky still curled against his side, and let the reality settle in.

Tomorrow morning at 10 o’clock…

…he would buy.

He would ride.

And if everything went according to the future he’d already glimpsed,

he would sell somewhere near 4,008 won.

After that?

He didn’t know yet.

But for the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like something that happened to him.

It felt like something he could finally reach out and take.

He closed his eyes, listening to Lucky’s soft purr.

“See you at the top, little guy.”

Nyaahhh.

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