Oil Futures Market Expands by 50%.
If you just listened to Charles, it might sound complicated—but in truth, it was an incredibly easy mission.
That’s because I had plenty of ti on my hands right now. There was absolutely no reason for to take the risk of speedrunning life.
‘All I have to do is wait.’
Sure, I was speedrunning becoming a chaebol chairman because I happened to be born again, but as long as I was currently the world’s number one, ti would always be on my side.
After all, no one had ever amassed this kind of wealth at my age. Actually, scratch that—I was the richest person on the planet right now. And when money attracts more money, I’d grow rapidly even if I just stood still.
Besides, the oil futures market was bound to expand naturally in five years even without my interference.
In fact, considering that Yukong’s oil storage facility under construction would still take about six months to complete... if the market grew too fast, that would be a problem too.
—Rustle.
So I was leisurely (well, not actually leisurely at all—I was dying from overwork) flipping through a book and sipping coffee.
“What are you doing?”
“Studying. The Korean CSAT—the college entrance exam—is coming up soon.”
Right now, it was September 1997. There wasn’t much ti left until the CSAT in November.
“Studying? You? Wait—do you even need to take the exam? Is there a single school you have to go to?”
As a British aristocrat, Charles asked with genuine confusion, but anyone Korean would know exactly why I couldn’t give up on studying.
—Shrug.
“It’s kind of a hobby. And kind of a matter of pride.”
No matter how much of a genius I was, I didn’t know everything. In other words, for the next few decades, there was a real risk my CSAT score wouldn’t be perfect, just... average.
I didn’t particularly like studying for the CSAT, but I had to squeeze it in where I could.
Fortunately... I had a math PhD sitting next to , so at least one subject was covered.
***
It was technically September, but really, it was late September.
And early October ant Nobel Prize season. What that ant was...
[LTCM Receives Ig Nobel Prize in Economics. riwether Declines to Attend... Professor Scholes Will Be Present]
[Betting Odds Shake Over Nobel Prize in Economics. Forr Front-Runners Scholes and rton Suddenly Slip...]
Oh...
Right. That happened.
“Hah, pfft. The Royal Swedish Academy must be panicking. Their internal decision is probably already finalized.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, slapping my leg in amusent.
“You’re so wicked.”
Seo Ji-yeon, studying for the CSAT next to , shook ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) her head.
Studying alone was boring, so lately I’d been doing it with people I liked. I was with Charles until yesterday, and today I was studying Korean with Seo Ji-yeon.
“What? It’s not like I can pressure the Nobel committee. Or the Ig Nobel one.”
Winning both the Nobel and Ig Nobel in the sa year, in the sa field of economics, must feel... strange. That’s not even in The Waterlons of Goguryeo.
Maybe only Andre Geim could answer that—he’s the guy who levitated frogs with magnets and got the Ig Nobel Prize in Physics in 2000, then extracted graphene with Scotch tape and won the actual Nobel in 2010.
It wasn’t all that surprising that LTCM’s riwether won the Ig Nobel. Nick Leeson, who bankrupted Barings, also got the Ig Nobel in economics.
Oh, and on a related note, Daryl Gates—the LAPD chief during the LA riots, SWAT founder, and guy who ended up costing the Korean-Arican community a fortune because of —won the Ig Nobel Peace Prize. Weird how everyone tied to ends up there. Total coincidence.
There were no records of LTCM winning the Ig Nobel in my past life... but honestly, they probably made the shortlist, right?
“I should drop by Harvard. Maybe scout so professors while I’m at it.”
“...Harvard?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? The Ig Nobel ceremony is held at Harvard Theater.”
Established in 1991, the Ig Nobel Prize is awarded by Annals of Improbable Research, a humor-science journal at Harvard. They usually give it to people who did hilarious research—or just plain idiotic things.
Unlike Andre Geim, the ‘geniuses’ at LTCM got it for being absolute dumbasses. Sure, their intentions were logical, and their thods sound, but they nearly wrecked the global economy in the process.
“Didn’t expect that kind of award to co from such a major place.”
Harvard had the sa reputation then as now, so Seo Ji-yeon looked a bit taken aback.
“Well, humor only hits if it cos from soone respected. If so rando gives an award, it just looks petty, don’t you think?”
I chuckled and flipped my textbook.
Like, if I cling to soone in a swimsuit, it’s a ‘joke,’ but if another girl does it, it’s called ‘seduction.’ Since ancient Greece, people have known that the speaker’s authority matters more than the words themselves.
—Snap.
“That’s it for today’s study session.”
“Huh? But I’m not done studying yet...”
“Finish it on your own. I have soone to et.”
This year’s CSAT had to be difficult, so a few months ago I’d established close contact with the test-makers. I didn’t leak questions or anything—I just provoked them, saying, “You guys suck at this.”
—‘You dare educate ?’
In hindsight, maybe that was a bit harsh. Expecting educators to be academic elites is a bias (usually cured by taking a class from a famous professor at any university).
I figured I’d make up for it later by giving them generous research grants. Still, the universities kept calling up lately... a bit annoying.
“You’re so unfair. You do most of your studying with that Charles guy!”
“You suck at math.”
Seo Ji-yeon couldn’t argue with that.
“....”
Educators don’t have to be high achievers—but of course, they need at least basic knowledge. And Charles wasn’t a bad teacher at all.
***
Anyway, between CSAT prep, Yukong acquisition, WTI futures market intervention, and the Daehwa Trading issue, ti flew by.
I had a lot on my plate.
Bringing in a new ga through Pigmalion Soft, stonewalling fans asking when Defect Slayer 2 or a new release was coming, discreetly dispatching people to DJ Camp to discuss broadband internet, managing the flood of new hires at Alpha Fund, dealing with the slow disintegration of Russian mafia discipline and the brewing Second Chechen War...
And whenever my nephews and nieces ca over, I’d drop everything to play with them myself.
So my second life’s final year as a student ca to a close like that—delegating overseas work to others and living a bit more like an actual high school girl in Korea.
‘Not that anyone sees as a high schooler...’
Still, I was technically a fresh-faced high school student.
So said no high school girl had any business getting involved in global geopolitics... but it’s not like I moved BBB or foreign syndicates directly. I was holding back.
I even went to class in my uniform and pretended to be a regular student for the first ti in ages. That counts as being a high schooler, right?
I even got a fifth confession from the junior I’d seduced back in middle school. He was three years younger than and had gotten taller than now—it was kind of amazing.
—Slide. Clack.
November 19, 1997. Morning.
I was on my way to take the CSAT—the College Scholastic Ability Test.
As the car door opened, a visibly nervous Seo Ji-yeon cautiously asked,
“Young Miss, what are you thinking about?”
“Oh, nothing. Just reminiscing.”
It was a drizzly winter morning. I walked to school in a crisp button-up and short school skirt.
‘Strangely, this feels kind of fun.’
I could feel people’s eyes on . The chaos of 1996, dubbed the worst year since the Korean War, and the fallout of 1997 were nearly over.
Now that news of and Yoo Jin-ha joining forces to attack Daehwa Trading had spread everywhere, everyone in Korea probably wanted to catch a glimpse of Yoo Ha-yeon—the country’s biggest celebrity and most talked-about public figure.
“Excuse , is a short interview okay? I know you’ve been incredibly busy lately—may I ask why you’re sitting for the CSAT? We’ve heard that universities are changing early admission rules just to recruit you—any thoughts?”
Even the supposedly reserved reporter, given it was exam day, had a glint of greed in his eyes. He’d been randomly selected and granted permission to approach , so any quote he got would be a scoop.
As always, I flashed a confident smile and answered.
“Why am I taking the CSAT? Ahaha, well—I’ve got quite a bit of pride, you see... I still rember those articles trashing , saying I was dumb. That I never attended class and only played around... So I figured, if I’m the first to get a perfect score, maybe that kind of talk will finally stop.”
“...A p-perfect score?”
“I’m Yoo Ha-yeon. That’s the least I can do.”
With that, I tossed my long hair and stepped into the exam hall, bored with the conversation.
.
.
.
This year’s CSAT was scored out of 400 points, and the average dropped nearly 20 points from the previous year—to 201.8.
And my score, of course, was a perfect 400.
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