Chapter 2

Chapter 1: Only the Strong Survive in the 1990s

“Sir, do you have the key to Unit 813?”

“Oh, Sing-a~ You’re back already? Your mom said that if you came home, you should go stay at Hae-won’s place.”

“Ah, okay. Thank you!”

“Your mother worries about you a lot!”

The security guard shouted after me.

A world where people even left their house keys at the security office.

Something unimaginable in 2026, but perfectly normal back then.

Swinging my kindergarten backpack, I trudged along.

The 1990s really were something.

The air was amazingly clean. The sky was high and blue, and the cicadas chirped just loudly enough.

Though Mom won’t even let me go home anymore.

I understood.

No parent could help worrying when their six-year-old daughter kept sneaking out of kindergarten and coming home early every chance she got.

One night I’d overheard my parents whispering over spicy chicken feet.

“What if our daughter is being bullied?”

In modern times they would’ve checked CCTV footage and turned the kindergarten upside down.

But in the 1990s, a society fueled by trust and loyalty, none of that existed.

Mom had inspected me a few times during bath time, checking for bruises.

Finding nothing wrong, she simply concluded that her daughter was weird.

Then again, Mom had always been like that.

Generous if you put it nicely.

Scatterbrained if you didn’t.

Still, nobody loved their children more than she did.

That was enough.

I’d regressed, after all.

I could support my parents myself.

That’s right.

I had regressed.

Why?

No idea.

Who caused it?

Probably that truck…

Honestly, the regression truck was probably pretty surprised too.

I clearly wasn’t its intended target.

I looked up at a poster hanging beside the elevator.

Korea’s Miracle Amazes the World!

A Young Hero of the Nation Conquers Silicon Valley!

For Korea, Toward the World!

The Success Story of QERA Chairman Park Min-soo,

A World-Class Business Hero of the 20th Century!

Look at that.

Just look.

How could the glossy, successful-looking man smiling from that poster possibly be the same person as that miserable homeless man?

No amount of cosmetic treatments could create that dramatic a transformation.

So Gollum Uncle had originally looked like that?

“Mr. Min-soo…”

It really was you, wasn’t it?

The protagonist of this world.

So basically…

The story went like this:

Homeless Park Min-soo was the protagonist of a chaebol-regression story, something like Jin Do-jun from Reborn Rich.

And I, completely oblivious, had happened to be standing at the protagonist’s starting point and got dragged into it as Extra #1.

After being reborn and piecing everything together, my reaction was naturally:

Jesus Christ! Thank you!

A free regression?!

What incredible luck!

Honestly, the best part was that I wasn’t the protagonist.

If someone had at least given me preparation time, maybe.

But I got thrown back here out of nowhere.

What did I know?

Stocks?

I was just an ordinary retail investor.

The companies I knew were the same ones everyone knew:

Apple, Microsoft, Google, NVIDIA, Tesla, Samsung, SK Hynix…

Futures?

Options?

Leverage?

What were those?

I had no clue.

Even regarding the IMF Crisis, I only knew it happened in 1997.

I didn’t know the exact date.

As a humanities graduate, I had no scientific knowledge to exploit either.

The only specific information I clearly remembered was the exact time when Seok Eun-chu first invested in Bitcoin.

I used to imagine what I’d do with ten billion won if I went back in time every night before sleeping and every time I showered…

In short, I was an extra who had regressed without any special knowledge, insider information, or even lottery numbers memorized.

From my perspective, there couldn’t have been a better setup.

While the protagonist drove South Korea toward becoming an economic superpower, all I had to do was quietly accumulate cryptocurrency from the sidelines.

What a beautiful extra’s life!

…

At least, that’s what I’d thought.

If not for this damned thing!

【Mission: Become a Billionaire (*USD Standard)!】

Challenger: Seo Sing-a (Unconfirmed Variable)

Time Limit: 2026-03-01 00:00 (KST)

Failure: Return to Origin

Success: Choose One

• Return
• Remain

※ Any injuries or accidents suffered at the point of origin will not be repaired.
(Current condition upon return: Brain Dead)

Current Assets of Challenger:

$1,402
(₩1,102,624)

Mission Progress: 0.0001%

Hello~

Miss me?

It’s me, the Status Window. Hehe.

“WAAAAAAAHHHH!!”

“W-what?! Why is she crying?! S-Sookyoung!”

“What happened?! Seo Sinhyeon, what did you do this time?!”

“That’s not fair! I really didn’t do anything!”

“Then why is she having a fit?! It’s okay, sweetie~ Mommy’s here! Don’t cry, okay?”

“WAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!”

“N-no, seriously, what’s wrong with her?”

“The kid from Unit 813! Do something about your daughter! Why is she crying like the world’s ending? Did she see a ghost or something?”

I had.

Yes.

I absolutely had.

One day, without warning, an unwelcome guest appeared before me.

The moment I escaped infancy and became a six-year-old with a somewhat functioning brain, the red status window descended upon me.

A billionaire?

Not only that, it kindly specified US dollars, leaving no room for wishful thinking.

A billionaire by American standards meant…

ONE BILLION DOLLARS.

As of today in 1996, that was approximately 900 billion won.

And after the IMF crisis caused the exchange rate to explode?

Almost two trillion won.

Are you kidding me?!

“Oh no… I’m crying again.”

Should I take comfort in the fact that the amount displayed included every last coin from my savings account and piggy bank?

For reference, March 1st, 2026 was the day I got hit by the truck alongside Park Min-soo.

Meaning:

If I failed to earn one trillion won within the next thirty years, I’d return to being thirty-year-old Seo Sing-a in a brain-dead state.

In other words:

I had contracted a terminal illness called:

“Earn One Trillion Won or Die.”

I-it’s okay! Stay calm!

We have Bitcoin.

Seok Eun-chu started investing around the fall of 2015 and turned five million won into ten billion.

Why couldn’t I do the same?

If I built up three hundred million won beforehand and entered even earlier than he did…

Maybe it wasn’t impossible.

Bitcoin will save me.

Lord Satoshi, you’re working hard, right?

Please don’t disappear because of some butterfly effect caused by Park Min-soo…

You alone are my savior.

Of course, to go all-in on crypto at the right time, I’d need sufficient seed capital first.

I still had a long way to go.

Let’s think carefully.

My father worked in sales at H Motors.

My mother ran a children’s clothing shop.

We were a perfectly ordinary middle-class family in the 1990s.

No support from either side of the family.

No wealthy relatives to rely on.

If I wanted investment capital, I’d need a plan.

Fortunately, for some reason I’d been born in 1991 instead of my original birth year of 1996.

That gave me five extra years.

The IMF crisis would hit next year.

To execute Phase One of my plan, I didn’t have much time.

Ding-dong.

[Who’s there?]

“It’s Sing-a~ Is Oppa Cham-byeol home?”

[“It’s Sing-a! Mom! It’s Sing-a! Open the door!”]

[“Don’t run inside the house!”]

This was Unit 1403 in a neighboring building.

One of the largest and most expensive apartments in the complex.

The front door swung open dramatically.

A smiling boy appeared.

“Sing-a! Did you come to see me?”

“Hi, Oppa Cham-byeol!”

I waved while secretly checking behind him.

As expected.

She was home today.

“Hello, ma’am!”

“Mom, can I play with Sing-a?”

Someone once said you can’t spit at a smiling face.

Clearly they’d never met people who could.

Despite my innocent six-year-old smile, Yoon Ire, Cham-byeol’s mother, remained completely unfazed.

“Sing-a, shouldn’t you be in kindergarten right now? How did you get here? Does your mother know?”

Fortunately, I knew she wasn’t being hostile.

This was simply her personality.

So I didn’t panic.

Instead, I deliberately shrank back and mumbled,

“I heard Oppa Cham-byeol got hurt, so I came to see him. I thought he’d be sad if I played alone… Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no! Sing-a! Don’t cry! You didn’t do anything wrong! Mom!”

I wasn’t actually crying.

But I rubbed my eyes with my sleeve for effect.

Seeing her own son start tearing up too, Yoon Ire hurriedly softened her tone.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I was just worried… Fine. Come inside. Don’t cry.”

This woman was not known for patience.

If I’d actually started whining, she would’ve immediately called my mother and told her to come pick me up.

I stopped instantly and followed her inside with perfect manners.

Her expression softened.

“Sing-a, everyone in the neighborhood knows you’ve been skipping kindergarten. Even I’ve heard about it. I’ll overlook it today, but don’t do it again.”

“Okay… But I really came because I was worried about Oppa Cham-byeol. He’s my only friend in kindergarten.”

“Really?”

Yoon Ire looked surprised.

Apparently she knew exactly how poor her son’s social skills were.

Of course she did.

Even busy career women knew what kind of life their children lived at school.

And it was true.

Before I started hanging out with him, Choi Cham-byeol had been miserable.

He’d been bullied so often that his round glasses had broken multiple times.

“N-no, Mom! Sing-a is popular! She’s the most popular kid in the Chick Class and number one in the Sparrow Class! Everyone wants to be her friend. It’s just that Sing-a…”

Cham-byeol’s face turned bright red.

He lowered his head.

Yoon Ire finally seemed to understand.

Why else would a younger girl from a different class spend time with her socially isolated son?

Pity.

Kindness.

Charity.

At least, that’s what she probably thought.

Looks like I’ve built enough goodwill.

Time for the next step.

Tilting my head innocently, I clasped Cham-byeol’s sweaty hand and smiled like Florence Nightingale.

“But friends have to like each other. It can’t be one-sided. And it can’t be just anybody. Oppa Cham-byeol is smart and kind. He teaches me things and always shares with me. That’s why I like him! We like each other, so we’re friends. Right, ma’am?”

“S-Sing-a…!”

“…Sigh. You’re such a good child, Sing-a. Much better than my son. Go play. I’ll prepare snacks.”

“Thank you, ma’am!”

As she turned away, Yoon Ire gently patted my head.

The gesture was awkward.

Her voice sounded slightly choked.

“Please keep being friends with Cham-byeol.”

I nodded obediently.

And knew immediately:

Success.

Phase One was complete.

Remembering the name Yoon Ire had been pure coincidence.

After receiving the trillion-won mission, I’d spent days agonizing over how a powerless child with no talents or supernatural abilities could possibly gather initial capital.

Then one evening, while my mother chatted endlessly with my father about neighborhood gossip, she mentioned:

“Cham-byeol’s mother, Yoon Ire… something about a divorce…”

And in that instant, lightning struck my brain.

My God.