Moratorium.

A term meaning the postponement of debt payments.

Put simply, it's like saying, “I don’t have cash on hand, so I’ll pay you back later.” A moratorium is usually used in reference to something large-scale—like a nation—because the consequences are on a completely different level than a simple corporate bankruptcy.

Of course, it’s still better than an outright default, which means total non-payment of national debt. But given the enormous scale of money involved in a national economy, a moratorium isn’t far off from a default.

Especially in today’s world, where finance is extremely advanced.

It bears repeating as many times as necessary: in the post-gold standard era, in the full-blown age of fiat credit, money is debt.

If someone can’t repay their debt, it means someone else’s money just vanished. The imaginary money created through a chain of debt evaporates like a mirage. And we're not talking about small amounts—this is money guaranteed by a nation.

Take, for instance, the brutal winter of the financial crisis. Even then, the South Korean government never declared a moratorium or default.

“...It seems Russia is going to declare a moratorium.”

That’s why the words Lee Si-hyun said to me one day were, in fact, truly shocking.

***

Crunch.

Winter had come.

The chaotic year of 1996 had passed, and the new year of 1997 had risen with a gloomy air...

As snow fell, I felt the arrival of yet another winter.

“A moratorium, huh.”

There was a strange smile mixed in with the low tone of my voice.

South Korea requesting a bailout from the IMF was undoubtedly a bad situation. Just like now—Korean streets were filled with homeless people and blank stares.

But even so, it wasn’t the worst-case scenario. At least the IMF loaned us money, and we were able to replenish our foreign currency reserves with that.

The truly worst-case scenario is what’s happening now... a situation like Russia’s, where they either can’t receive aid or refuse to accept it.

The snowball is going to start rolling like crazy.

A country manages money on a completely different scale from a company. For example, during the normalization of diplomatic relations with the Soviet Union, South Korea loaned $1.47 billion. And then... the Soviet Union collapsed, and that money was never repaid.

Russia didn’t really pay it back. What little they managed to return was through the so-called Bear Project, where they offered goods in kind. If not for that, Korea’s foreign reserves might have been much healthier.

And now, that snowball is coming back around.

“It’s because of oil, right? East Asia doesn’t really need oil anymore.”

Russia is an oil-producing country, and in the midst of their already-crippled economy, oil—handed out without a solid foundation—was an incredibly valuable resource.

But now oil demand had dropped. With the East Asian economy utterly devastated, the industries that used oil had come to a halt as well.

“...Yes. Just as you predicted.”

Lee Si-hyun continued with difficulty.

It had been a while since I’d heard her speak with such hesitation.

“Of course. My predictions are always spot-on.”

“...That’s true. You’ve... always been right, Miss.”

Otherwise, there’s no way this organization would’ve survived. If I hadn’t been able to accurately foresee these critical historical inflection points and use them to deliver massive profits and prestige to my subordinates, I would’ve been stabbed in the back and left to rot in some back alley a long time ago.

‘Or maybe not? I do have a knack for attracting loyal people... Nah, but Si-hyun would never betray me...’

Hmm. That’s unsettling.

Let’s not think about this. Imagining betrayal from people who follow me so well only sows paranoia.

“Okay, so we’ve got about a month left? Then let’s quickly get in touch with Alpha Fund and—kya!”

Thwack!

At that moment, a snowball hit me squarely on the head.

“Yoo Jae-yeon!”

“Nyah!”

Pat-pat-pat.

My five-year-old nephew hurled the snowball and ran off giggling.

“Ugh, ack!”

I winced as the cold snow melted down the back of my neck, making me shiver.

Oh, wait a second...

“Hey! Yoo Jae-yeon! Stop right there!”

The little rascal bounced through the snowy garden, shaking his head.

“Nooo! Auntie, come play too—!”

Thump.

He slipped on an icy patch and tumbled, banging his forehead on the ground.

“Waaahhh!”

Ugh, I knew that would happen.

Grumbling, I wiped the melting snow from my neck and walked over to the crying bundle of cuteness.

“There, there, don’t cry. Good boy...”

“Hic, wah...”

Even his sniffling face was adorable, but I didn’t show it. I calmly soothed him.

“There, there. Did you want to play with Auntie? How sweet of you.”

“Uh-huh... but I don’t wanna play anymore!”

“Really?”

The sulking Yoo Jae-yeon shook his head.

“...Actually, Dad won’t play with me.”

Tsk.

I bent my knees slightly, scooped him up, and gently patted his head. His soft, childlike cheeks squished against my shoulder.

“Oh no, what a bad dad. Leaving our cute little Jae-yeon all alone to run around outside. That Yoo Seon-jun is a very naughty boy.”

“...Wasn’t it you who sent him ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) out on an errand, Miss?”

Lee Si-hyun muttered dryly as she looked at me.

I put my finger to my lips and frowned.

“Shh, shh.”

How dare she betray me at such a critical moment. Hmph. Classic Si-hyun.

“Hmm, but hasn’t your dad already come back? I heard he returned not long ago.”

“Yeah, but he only plays with my little brother!”

Pouting, Yoo Jae-yeon shook his head furiously.

...Kids really are cute. Jae-yeon’s little brother must be two by now, right?

Time flies. I started making moves when I was six. Sure, I had the perks of reincarnation, but still—looking back, it’s surreal.

“Hmm, then shall Auntie play with you?”

“...Really?”

“Yup. But not a snowball fight. Let’s build a snowman. Auntie’s really good at it. You’re too young to know, but Auntie’s the world champion of snowball rolling, you know?”

“There’s such a thing?”

“Of course there is. If you look it up later, you’ll be amazed.”

Eyes sparkling, Yoo Jae-yeon clenched his tiny fists and rubbed his cheeks.

Next to me, Lee Si-hyun silently signaled that time was tight.

“...Miss.”

“You can wait, Si-hyun. Mmm, Seo Ji-yeon should be inside the house, so give her the message first.”

“Can’t we ask someone else to handle it?”

“No choice. Yoo Sang-jun and Yoo Seon-a are all busy with their own affairs...”

Besides, this is healing.

Just look at this pure and lovable little creature. How could anyone hate children?

Of course, those brats who threw slurs at me when I was young are an exception...

Mm, but this one’s family—so it’s fine.

***

A few hours later.

Thud.

“Ugh, so cold.”

I sighed and shivered. I had only intended to build a snowman, but the kid was so mischievous that I ended up getting hit with a few snowballs.

Thud.

My black stockings hit the floor.

“Miss, are you alright?”

Having stripped off the rest of my clothes, I sat in my underwear by the heater, warming up. Seo Ji-yeon, who had clearly been waiting for a while, asked cautiously.

She knew I hated the cold, so I guess she was worried.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was nice playing with my nephew after so long. Kids really are adorable. Oh, thanks for the towel.”

Smiling brightly, I wiped myself down with the damp towel.

“I’ve heated up the bathwater. Would you like to go to the tub?”

“No, we don’t have time. I’ll just wipe down quickly.”

Stretch.

I stretched my stiff arms and looked out the window at the huge snowman. Not just two big snowballs stacked together—this one had eyes, a nose, a mouth. A real snowman.

“Mmm, I got a little competitive and went all in. Took more time than expected. That brat Jae-yeon got me all worked up...”

Hmph, it’s not like I’ve worked outside in the cold before. And then he goes and criticizes his aunt?

“But in the end, Si-hyun unni helped you, didn’t she?”

“...”

After destroying two snowballs in a row, when Jae-yeon asked if Auntie was really a snowball-rolling champion, I had nothing to say.

Smart as he was—probably because he took after me—he wasn’t a genius to the point of guessing the other meaning of “snowball.”

And if I explained it, my brother might actually smack me. For real.

Pouting, I fiddled with the lace trim of my underwear and shook my head.

“Whatever. Let’s talk business. You’ve got everything ready? The shale gas.”

Seo Ji-yeon nodded.

“Yes. The technology itself was completed a while ago. It’s just not very cost-effective...”

It’s a waste to release it in this era, but sacrifices must be made.

“Yeah, that’s good enough. That should be enough to lower oil prices.”

It was a contingency gift I prepared, just in case. It would’ve been a problem if Russia didn’t declare a moratorium because of my interference with the snowball.

I’d spent a lot of money to prepare this properly, and it seemed like the operation had ended successfully.

“Industries can only grow if oil prices drop, right?”

Smiling brightly, I stretched out my arms. Seo Ji-yeon, looking slightly nervous, glanced around and asked quietly,

“Um... is it really okay?”

“What is? Oh, if you mean my body, feel free to look all you want. Ha, I look too gorgeous even when soaking wet. Sitting here in the middle of winter snow—it’s such a delightful contrast...”

“No, not that... I meant... isn’t it bad if oil-producing countries lose their status?”

Hmm. A reasonable concern.

“It’s fine. At that level... it’s just right. Ah, it feels so good to know I’ve made another contribution to world peace today. I should be getting a Nobel Peace Prize or something. Too bad the Swedes don’t know brilliance when they see it.”

“...Pardon?”

Just gotta toss a rice cake to the oil-hunting eagle so I can live in peace.