The Regressed Vault Keeper Took It All

Chapter 19: I Thought I Would Die of Fear

Choi Min-jun’s eyes glistened with blatant hostility.

He glared at me as if he would kill me and opened his mouth.

“Yeah. How was your sightseeing at Namsan? Did you enjoy it?”

His tone was dripping with mockery.

I deliberately hunched my shoulders and answered in a timid voice.

“I thought I would die of fear. Truly.”

“Hahaha! You were scared, you say?”

Park Jeong-ho laughed heartily, but behind that laughter hid a cold blade.

His eyes clung to me persistently, as if not wanting to miss a single reaction.

“Yes. Truly. When would I have ever gone to such a terrifying place? I lived only thanks to Teacher Yang.”

Choi Min-jun’s gaze dug in sharper.

Unlike Park Jeong-ho’s laugh, he did not let down his guard even slightly.

“But… was it Deputy Section Chief No Gi-tae himself who saved you? Huh, that man isn’t someone who moves recklessly. It seems Old Man Yang really does wield tremendous power.”

Park Jeong-ho stroked his chin and muttered as if to himself.

“Or could it be… that you’re some hidden son of that old man?”

Though spoken like a joke, it carried a sharp probing intent.

I flailed my hands in denial, almost jumping, not forgetting to glance around as though afraid someone might hear.

“Oh no, President. Please don’t say such things. How could I be some hidden son? I’d be chased out of Teacher Yang’s house if anyone heard that.”

“Heh, if not, then not. Why get so overly startled?”

Park Jeong-ho grinned slyly and asked again.

“So, was it Old Man Yang who sent you today as well?”

“No, sir. Today I came for another matter. I came to sell this.”

I lightly shook a slightly crumpled envelope containing Daegung stock securities.

Both Park Jeong-ho and Choi Min-jun’s eyes instantly locked on the envelope.

“I think it’s risen enough now. And just a few days ago, I nearly fainted. With all that sudden talk of delisting and whatnot, my guts shrank to the size of a pea.”

“Daegung stock? You’re selling that now, at this time?”

Choi Min-jun asked again, as if he could not believe it.

His eyes held a look as if demanding to know what trick I was up to.

“Yes. Well, it may rise further, but… honestly, after that incident, I’m too frightened to keep holding it.”

I even feigned a shiver, making a terrified expression.

Acting the anxiety of a naïve beginner was key.

“Hmm… I think it’ll rise further. Isn’t it too soon to pull out when the opportunity is still here?”

Park Jeong-ho spoke as though regretful.

But his gaze was still razor-sharp, still trying to weigh my true intent.

“No, sir. I think this is just right for the size of my bowl. And it’s already risen nearly threefold. For me, that’s more than enough.”

I recalled that when Park Jeong-ho first recommended buying Daegung stock, it hadn’t even reached 2 hwan.

I let my tone carry the nuance that I owed all my profit to his advice.

“Threefold, huh… You’re lucky, indeed.”

Repeating the number, Park Jeong-ho smiled meaningfully.

“Well, that aside. I don’t know what Old Man Yang has been up to lately. Did he ever say anything about Kim Jin-ho?”

“You mean President Kim?”

At last, the long-awaited main point.

Though I had yearned for this question, I kept up the guise of innocence.

Tilting my head as if puzzled, I asked back.

“Did something happen? I did hear that Teacher Yang had a meeting with him a few days ago. But how would someone like me know what was said between them? I’m just in a position of running errands.”

“Hmm, is that so? And no other strange movements?”

Unwilling to give up, Park Jeong-ho kept probing about Yang Sobo’s moves.

I maintained the same stance of knowing nothing.

“I really don’t… Teacher Yang always stays in his office. What could I possibly know?”

At my consistent ignorance, Park Jeong-ho seemed to gradually lose interest.

Perhaps he had never expected much from me in the first place.

Clicking his tongue, he waved his hand while looking back down at the assembly boiling with frenzy below the railing.

“That’s enough. Go on down now. If you say you’re selling that, they’ll all rush to buy. You’ll get a good price.”

As if I’d been waiting, I bowed politely.

“Thanks to you, President, I’ve gained greatly. I’m truly grateful. Next time, I’ll surely treat you.”

Of course, inwardly I swallowed other words.

‘Once you collapse, I’ll buy you a consolation drink on the ruins.’

Instead of answering, Park Jeong-ho merely gestured for me to leave.

I turned and headed toward the stairs.

That was when—

“Wait.”

Manager Choi Min-jun called me in a low voice.

I turned back at him with a puzzled look.

“Follow me.”

He jerked his chin toward a secluded spot.

Unlike Park Jeong-ho, who had lost interest, his eyes still gleamed with sharp suspicion.

I obediently followed him into a deserted corner.

“I still haven’t let go of my suspicion about you.”

Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, he spoke bluntly.

“I truly don’t know anything, Manager.”

“No. My gut tells me. You’re not just some lucky bastard. That crash in KEPCO stock, and the moves after… you were definitely involved somehow.”

Persistent bastard.

Sharp-eyed, I’ll give him that.

Swallowing curses inside, I outwardly wore a face of unjust bewilderment.

“What could I possibly do to ease your suspicion, Manager?”

“Simple. Bring me decisive information on Yang Sobo. The old man’s weakness, or a hidden plan. Something that can tie him down for sure. Then I’ll trust you.”

Perhaps because my act of naïve foolishness had disarmed him, Choi Min-jun revealed his true intent so readily.

In the end, he too only wanted Yang Sobo.

I was never their true target.

“Teacher Yang is the one who took me in. How could I betray such a man…”

“Hmph. You think Yang Sobo will protect you forever? Remember this—once you lose value, he’ll discard you without hesitation. He’s a merchant without blood or tears.”

That, I already knew well.

I had long since won his trust.

I lowered my head, as if hiding a bitter smile, while he thought he was dispensing precious insight.

Seeing me so, Choi Min-jun tapped my shoulder and warned.

“Plenty of people who once enjoyed his trust disappeared overnight. You’d better find your own way to survive.”

I kept my head bowed, as though deeply troubled by his words.

“I appreciate your concern, Manager. But I…”

I deliberately trailed off, once again showing a face of unjust grievance with a trace of fear.

“Well then, I’ll be going. I need to place a sell order.”

This time, even Manager Choi did not stop me further.

His eyes were still full of suspicion, but he had no grounds to act against me now.

I quickly slipped out of his sight and went down to the first-floor assembly hall.

I approached a counter clerk and handed over the envelope.

“Please sell all these Daegung stocks. At 8 hwan, with immediate execution.”

As my voice carried through the hall, part of the frenzy-filled crowd turned their eyes to me in an instant.

8 hwan was well above the current price, but it was enough to seize people’s attention.

“Wh-what? Selling at 8 hwan? I’ll buy it! Me!”

“No! Over here first! Sell to me!”

In an instant, people rushed toward me.

Their eyes were all glazed and clouded.

I quickly stepped aside, accepted the receipt the clerk handed me, and retreated further.

“I’ve given all authority to the staff here, so please talk with them.”

The area around the counter instantly became a madhouse.

Leaving the chaos behind, I quietly slipped out of the assembly hall.

---

The next day.

When I collected the proceeds from the Korea Securities Exchange, the heaviness of the wad of cash in my hand made it feel all the more real.

In just one month, my Daegung stock investment, which had started with barely 100,000 hwan, had snowballed into a cash bundle worth over 400,000 hwan.

By morning, rumors of someone getting rich overnight drifted like clouds across the streets of Myeong-dong.

Clutching the bag packed with thick wads of cash, I turned my back on the fevered atmosphere of the Exchange.

My steps naturally carried me across the street, into the narrow alley where black-market money changers gathered in shadow.

Here, the official exchange rate meant nothing.

Only supply, demand, and nerve decided the price in this shadowy world.

‘It’s been a while since I came here.’

With its musty stench, I stepped into the dim alley.

Unlike the wild mania of the Exchange, here the air was weighed down by stickier, more sordid desires.

This was the black-market dollar trade, where money revealed its other face.

Eyes gleaming with desperation, unable to trust yet craving something, flickered sharply all around.

A man leaning against a wall, an old woman with a cloth bundle laid out, a young thug scanning passersby—

all bartered in low voices, wary of each other.

From a corner, a middle-aged man, shoulders hunched, nervously fingered his worn fedora as he whispered to a money changer.

“C-could you exchange all this into hwan? I heard the rate was… good today.”

The money changer’s snake-like eyes slid over the bills, then he clicked his tongue and handed over a fat wad of hwan.

The man in the suit looked far from satisfied.

“That’s all you’ll give me? Isn’t it worse than last time?”

“Rates change daily. Don’t like it, don’t take it.”

The reply was cold.

Biting his lip in frustration, the suited man stuffed the hwan into his pocket and scurried off.

His destination was back toward the Exchange.

That money would surely be sucked back into the frenzy.

Elsewhere, a man in grimy work clothes nearly clung to a money changer.

“Please, just a little more… even just 100 hwan more. I need to send it back home, this won’t be enough.”

In his hand was a crumpled 10-dollar military scrip bill.

Issued for use in U.S. military bases in place of dollars, it had the same nominal value but traded cheaper on the black market.

The money changer waved dismissively.

“Take it or leave it. Don’t pester me with pocket change.”

The worker, nearly in tears, accepted the wad of hwan the exchanger shoved at him.

His shoulders sagged heavily as he sighed deep enough to sink the ground.

I watched all this without emotion.

As stock prices soared day by day, everyone had rushed here with whatever they had—dollars long stashed at home, U.S. military scrip, yen, even gold trinkets.

All in a desperate bid to ride this frenzy with their last scraps.

I didn’t move rashly but leaned against a wall, quietly scanning my surroundings.

The eyes of passing black marketers darted at my bag bulging with cash, glinting like hyenas.

Then, I spotted an old man.

Unlike the others, he sat calmly on a bench deeper in the alley, flipping through a newspaper, as if the surrounding commotion didn’t exist.

‘Good to see you, Old Man Han.’

This was the elder who firmly held the reins of the Myeong-dong black-market dollar trade.

Still alive and well, it seemed.

I slowly approached him.

Sensing my presence, the old man finally lifted his eyes from the paper and glanced at me.

For a fleeting moment, our gazes met—his was dark and fathomless.

At that moment, two burly men sprang out of a side alley and blocked my path.

Their hulking frames and menacing looks exuded threat.

“What’s this? If you’ve got no business here, get lost.”

They gestured threateningly, but I ignored them, keeping my eyes fixed on the old man.

My lips parted to speak—

“Enough. Step back.”

The voice came from the old man first.

Snapping his newspaper shut with a *thwack*, he spoke quietly.

At once, the two men stepped aside without protest.

The old man laid the paper down on the bench and looked straight at me.

“Did Yang send you?”

His tone was casual, as though he already knew I was lodging at Yang Sobo’s house.

Instead of answering, I stepped forward and placed the money bag before him.

“400,000 hwan. I want to exchange it for dollars.”

His eyes drifted between my face and the bag, indifferent yet weighing, as though appraising its worth.