I Became the Youngest Daughter of a Chaebol Family-Chapter 94: The Weight of the Law (6)

“Eh, it’d be awkward if we did it ourselves. But there’s a good person on Wall Street, right? A respected Jew who also runs a fund with guaranteed stable returns. Former chairman of NASDAQ.”

A plan to funnel all of Schindler’s List royalties into the Madoff Fund.

Even I had to admit—it was genius.

“...B-But is that really okay? I mean, we know.”

“Know what?”

“That the Madoff Fund is a scam. And the lawyer knows it too. Doesn’t that make us... accomplices to fraud?”

“It’s fine. Lawyers are obligated to protect their client’s secrets.”

My direct subordinates, Ha Yeong-il and Lee Si-hyun, exchanged glances.

—‘As expected, she's acting like a proper young miss again today.’

—‘She’s grown even more shameless since we last met. I seriously don’t know what she’s learning at school these days.’

I frowned.

“Don’t get any weird ideas. I’m just presenting an option, okay? The decision is up to the individual.”

And there’s nothing for me to learn at school anyway. It’s not for nothing I treat it like just another club meeting.

Sometimes Seo Ji-yeon questions how I score so highly in ethics, but understanding human morality and philosophy isn’t the same thing.

Middle school ethics is basically an intro to philosophy, and regardless of my personality, I have a deep grasp of universal morals and the humanities.

“When you toss a rope to someone teetering on the edge of a cliff, it’s not an option—it’s coercion, Young Miss.”

“Either way, sun or moon, I’m still the one with the rope. And my rope’s sturdy enough.”

“...Though you do enjoy using that rope as a whip more than you should.”

Honestly, for someone like me, I think I’m doing pretty well.

“Hah, should I check Si-hyun’s back while we’re at it? Want me to give you an actual whipping?”

“...I sincerely hope you don’t turn into just another Russian oligarch, Young Miss.”

She said it jokingly, but there was truth in her tone.

“...That’s a common type?”

“Yes. Quite common. Guys who line up dozens of women and rape them, ones who film disgusting child pornography, or who drug promising college girls into becoming sex slaves... There are plenty like that in Russia today.”

Lee Si-hyun looked at me with serious eyes. Having been through hell and back, now firmly embedded in the world of Russian oil barons, her threshold for shock must’ve skyrocketed.

I pouted. Even so, comparing me to those kinds of scumbags is a little much.

“I know. You’re different from that kind of trash. Even this time, your methods may be odd, but ultimately it’s about punishing a fraudster. ...So I just hope you’ll stay different going forward too.”

I could read the faint hope buried in her words, so I nodded.

“Right. I’m extraordinary, after all. Pursuing cheap, base... one-dimensional desires isn’t something I’d ever do.”

Lee Si-hyun gave a small smile.

“And yet, don’t you chase more primitive desires than anyone? I’ll handle your eccentric tastes, so just... moderate the rest a little, please.”

“It’s fine. I’m plenty satisfied right now.”

I smiled back and looked off into the distance. Toward the greatest conman in history.

My endless desire had, at long last, found its oasis—and was gorging itself.

***

It was dizzying.

Was this [N O V E L I G H T] really the right thing to do?

Director Spielberg, in the middle of preparing to shoot Schindler’s List on location in Poland, felt an uneasy tightness in his chest.

Was it really this horrific? The Holocaust?

Am I a Jew? Or just an American with Jewish family?

The thoughts wouldn’t stop.

Do I even have the right to film this? As someone said, isn’t this film just Jewish whining? Wouldn’t someone else be more qualified? But then again, no one else stepped forward to make this film...

Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming sense of irreverence.

There was once a custom among the ancient Jews: only members of the tribe of Levi were allowed to touch the Ark of the Covenant.

During King David’s reign, a man named Uzzah reached out to steady the Ark as it tipped—and was struck dead on the spot.

The Holocaust, though often referred to as a burnt offering, was nothing short of a massacre. But this endless irreverence felt, paradoxically, like something sacred.

This wasn’t something a mere film director should be touching. It should’ve been handled with greater reverence, in a less commercialized format.

—“Schindler’s List? Ohh, I bet that’ll be a hit too.”

The words of a young East Asian woman, a tech consultant from the Jurassic Park set, surfaced in his memory. She’d said it with a smile, but...

It was bloodstained money. One could say he was repackaging and selling the history of his own people through mass media.

It wasn’t even his suffering. Until he started making this film, he hadn’t truly grasped what it all meant. To profit off the deaths of others—this wasn’t money he should accept.

So he had to donate it. But...

Where should he donate it?

He knew he had to choose the foundation carefully. If there were any rumors or controversy after the donation, it would be an insult to the victims of the Holocaust—or Shoah (השואה).

“Is there even a proper foundation?”

He didn’t know. Before making this film, he hadn’t studied the Holocaust in detail. So of course, he hadn’t looked into related charities either.

That only made the guilt worse. It meant he had completely forgotten.

After deep thought, he reached the same conclusion he had when deciding to make Schindler’s List.

Then I’ll just create one myself.

A historical foundation to record the horrors of the genocide. Shoah Foundation—yes, that name felt right.

***

[Director Spielberg announces next film to cover the Holocaust... brushes off worries about commercial failure: “The money doesn’t matter.”]

[Hollywood director Spielberg pledges to donate all royalties from Schindler’s Ark]

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Something unexpected had happened.

“...I didn’t even get a chance to ask yet.”

Just as I was about to reach out to politely—I do have some shame—suggest a donation, Director Spielberg publicly declared that he would donate all of his royalties.

I had no idea how he planned to donate it. But expecting him to do it my way was wishful thinking. For all I knew, he might just hand the money over directly to Holocaust survivors.

I lay stretched out on a sunbed at the beach, mulling over the past.

Did I do something wrong?

There’s too many things to list, I can’t even begin to count...

“Exactly. Whew. I’m just glad the honorable director escaped your wicked clutches, Young Miss.”

Seo Ji-yeon grinned brightly as she massaged my shoulder.

“Just focus on applying more oil to my back. Hmph, like you know anything.”

Seo Ji-yeon doesn’t actually know what I’ve been up to. She genuinely thinks Director Spielberg almost fell victim to my schemes.

It’s not like that. Honestly.

“You know what, Young Miss? Even if you don’t know exactly what someone’s doing, you can guess by their nature. If a firefighter enters a stranger’s house, you can assume there’s a fire... But if a thief goes in, well, it’s probably for theft.”

“...”

That’s... a blatant logical fallacy.

I wanted to scold my foolish subordinate, but I couldn’t.

—Squish.

“Ugh, hnn... hhyack!”

My mouth—my mouth is sealed!

“Th-The sand... ack.”

“Yes?”

I was seriously on the verge of choking. She was pressing down so hard I couldn’t breathe.

Maybe misreading my reaction, Seo Ji-yeon glanced around, shaking her head. There were a few people sneaking glances in our direction, entranced by my beauty.

Hey, hey, not her—look at me, will you?

“...Seriously, Young Miss. You’re probably the only person who puts on tanning oil naked at a beach like this. And you barely even tan.”

What is she talking about? I’m not completely naked underneath.

And yeah, technically I don’t even need the oil. But... let’s just skip over that part.

“Ah, wait... Are you okay with the sand?”

Only then did Seo Ji-yeon realize my situation and rushed over to check on me.

“I should be fine, Miss Sand went straight into my mouth after all... But I’m not okay...”

I hastily covered my chest and coughed, grimacing as I chewed literal sand. Because yes, I’d literally eaten it.

“S-Sorry!”

She immediately dropped to the ground, bowing in apology. My mood lightened. Yeah, she might be slow, but she is sweet.

“It’s fine. But also... you know your analogy was totally flawed, right? Hmph, insulting me with such nonsense.”

“Y-Yes...”

This wasn’t a setback. It was an opportunity.

“The money will come to me. Because I’m going to make it happen.”

“Young Miss, first—your clothes...”

With steely eyes, I clenched my fists. I could hear squeals and gasps around me, but I didn’t care.

First, cancel the Alpha Fund’s article about Madoff and issue an apology...

To donate profits, there had to be profits first. Since the donation was promised after the release of Schindler’s List, there was still plenty of time.

I had to establish a foundation structure before then.

My mind was flooded with upcoming charity events and the operating methods of various nonprofit organizations. Thoughts churned endlessly, and I sank into my own world.

Right. Money doesn’t vanish. It circulates, creating profit and utility for everyone—that’s the capitalist model.

And preferably, it should be in a way that benefits the Jewish community. That’s what most people would want, I think.

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A few days later, I was able to make direct contact with Director Spielberg.

Not as a mere tech consultant—but as an investor affiliated with Alpha Fund.