The rumors were rife about the first basement floor below Exhibition Hall A of the Cheongdam Art Gallery, which had become a massive hit in just three months through a strict membership system. They said starving humans were churning out paintings while losing their minds on drugs. They said there was a vault filled only with US dollars—the source of all the hearsay.

Geum Seong-je, who lived by the rule that money is always right, especially when the source is unknown, appeared like a comet and easily earned enough money to support a non-existent wife and children in an instant. If it was money, of course—when it came to laundering black money, Geum Seong-je was the one who didn't ask questions. Literally the arrival of a big shot. Thanks to his willingness to do dirty work, his business acumen never died. Along with the smell of money, the scent of his luck turning for the better wafted through the air.

Who knew that fucking around in Paris, France in his younger days would be this helpful? You never know how life turns out. That's why I'm telling you, you overeducated bastards. Keep life simple. Simple is the best, don't you get it?