---
Dae-Hyun hadn't slept.
It was morning now. His room—if you could still call it that—looked like it had been robbed by the U.S. Treasury itself.
Stacks of dollar bills lined the floor, walls, and ceiling.
The little TV he barely used? Buried.
The floor fan? RIP.
The ramen packets? Held hostage by piles of green.
> [Current Balance: $86,421]
Dae-Hyun sat in the middle of the chaos, holding a paper fan made of hundred-dollar bills, trying not to panic.
"I—I can't keep living like this!" he cried, sneezing from the smell of too much ink and stress.
Then it hit him.
He needed to do something logical.
The mature, adult thing.
Go to the bank.
He stuffed as many bills as possible into a plastic shopping bag and two black garbage bags. The plastic bag tore instantly. The garbage bags bulged. It looked like he was about to dispose of a body made of cash.
He wore a face mask, hoodie, sunglasses, and walked to the bank like a nervous secret agent with a guilty conscience.
---
Inside the Bank – 11:12 a.m.
A kind, older teller smiled as Dae-Hyun stepped up to the counter.
"Welcome to Shinhan Bank. How can I help y—"
Thunk.
He dropped one of the bags on the counter.
It sloshed with money like it had a heartbeat.
"I-I want to open an account," he mumbled. "Deposit… just a little."
She blinked. "How much?"
"…About $80,000."
"…Excuse me?"
She looked down, opened the bag—
—And froze.
Inside, the dollar bills were packed like lasagna.
She slowly looked back at Dae-Hyun.
Her polite expression twitched.
"…Sir, where did this come from?"
Dae-Hyun blinked. "I found it."
Wrong answer.
Ten minutes later, two security guards walked over casually.
Then not-so-casually.
Then they surrounded him.
One guard whispered, "Sir, are you… laundering this?"
"Laundering? No! I swear—I just earn a dollar every second!"
Wrong answer again.
Now a bank manager joined, looking serious. "Sir, we'll need to report this. You may be under investigation for counterfeit or illegal activity. Please remain seated."
Dae-Hyun's soul left his body.
---
Twenty Minutes Later – In a Back Room
Dae-Hyun sat on a tiny sofa, surrounded by stern-looking bank staff, holding coffee he couldn't drink.
"I'm not a criminal," he repeated, his voice shaking. "I just… get money every second. It falls from the air."
Everyone stared at him like he'd just confessed to being an alien prince from Jupiter.
"Sir, are you mentally well?" the bank manager finally asked.
"No—I mean yes—I mean… I got hit by a truck."
"…Ah."
That didn't help either.
A call was made.
To someone.
Maybe the police. Maybe the Ministry of Magic. Who knows.
Dae-Hyun suddenly stood up, bowed 90 degrees, grabbed the bag, and ran.
Out the room.
Down the hall.
Out the front doors.
One guard chased him for three steps, then gave up when the bag ripped and thousands of dollars burst into the wind like money confetti.
Passersby screamed.
Children ran.
One grandpa shouted, "HALLELUJAH! IT'S RAINING RICHES!"
Dae-Hyun bolted around the corner, hugging the second bag like it was a baby.
He didn't stop running until he was three neighborhoods away.
---
Back at Home – 1:46 p.m.
Dae-Hyun collapsed into the money mountain of his room.
"…I can't use banks. I can't throw it out. I can't stop it from coming."
His stomach growled.
He sighed, pushing aside some dollar bills to find his cup noodles.
> [Current Balance: $117,456]
"…At this rate, I'll be a billionaire in a year… and homeless at the same time."
He stared at the ceiling, buried in cash.
And that's when the system chimed again:
> [New Feature Unlocked: "Auto Convert to Won"]
[A virtual bank account has been created.]
[Do you wish to activate money storage mode?]
Dae-Hyun screamed with joy.
"Yes!! YES!! PLEASE!!!"
Suddenly, all the loose cash shimmered and vanished into light—zip!—like being vacuumed into another dimension.
Silence.
He looked around.
He could see his floor again.
He could see his ramen pot.
He could BREATHE.
Then the voice calmly stated:
> [Balance stored in account: ₩157,346,000]
Dae-Hyun wiped a tear.
"I can finally… finally live like a normal human."
He paused.
"…Wait. Does this mean I have to pay taxes?"
---
End of Chapter 2