* * * *
The abyss of the South Korean internet.
No, a place more accurately called a sewer.
DC Inside.
And if you were to pick the most vicious place among them, it was undoubtedly the Stock Gallery.
Stock talk?
Of course not.
In reality, all stock talk had migrated to the US Stock Gallery, and the place was closer to a garbage dump that excreted hatred toward women and marriage.
That day, too, was peaceful.
Someone preached the dishwashing theory, and someone else passionately argued the Matong theory.
A shitpost claiming international marriage was the answer even made it to the notable posts.
A peaceful day, just like any other.
The mouse wheels of the Stock Gallery regulars, who had pressed refresh, stopped short.
[You bastards, don't get married....]
Author: Do Taenam.
For a moment, the gallery was filled with silence.
Comments (5)
└ ?
└ ??
└ ??? What is this bastard?
└ ????????
└ Did you get hacked, sir?
And it was understandable.
The author's username.
‘Do Taenam.’
He was a beloved veteran user whom no one in the Stock Gallery didn't know.
His main activity was trolling.
He directly refuted the dominant opinion of the Stock Gallery—that marriage was insanity.
[I had a son, and he's so pretty.]
Author: Do Taenam
— (Baby photo) Because I got married, I had such a pretty son and I'm so happy. You bastards too, stop cursing women in your basements and get married already. Real happiness in life is building a family.
└ Fuck off, retard.
└ Fake, yeah.
└ Hey, sucker!
└ (Butchering meme)
It was always like this.
He always praised marriage, bragged about his child, and expressed love for his wife.
He was a guy who knew very well how to make the Stock Gallery regulars' blood boil backwards.
"Oh, does this guy know how to have fun?"
As if he alone was the normal one, as if he were saying you lot living in this sewer were losers, his posts always drew explosive aggro.
The Stock Gallery regulars cursed him out, but on the other hand, there were also guys who enjoyed his very existence.
They said that after seeing the same hate posts every day, seeing a troll post like that once in a while was rather fun.
In any case, Do Taenam was a figure who held symbolism completely opposite to the Stock Gallery's direction.
But.
That Do Taenam.
Wrote a post saying, "You bastards, don't get married…"
And the content was even more of a sight to behold.
[……]
Just six dots.
That was it.
The Stock Gallery regulars fell into confusion.
└ Why?
└ Do Taenam: Just don't, you fucking bastards!
└ You start with the cursing right away, lolllll
└ Lol fuck, this is hilarious lololol what kind of concept is this lol
└ Holy shit, what the hell.
The gallery was in a truly festive atmosphere.
The lament of a beloved veteran user who had always humiliated them.
What other spectacle could be as entertaining as this?
The post instantly received hundreds of upvotes and rose to become a trending post.
All sorts of speculation, mockery, and a very slight bit of sympathy mixed together and filled the board.
The Stock Gallery, where Do Taenam's post had appeared, was entering a new phase.
Beyond simple mockery and consolation, his post began to evolve into a meme.
It started with a prank by a floating user.
[You guys, don't do stocks....]
— ....
A parody that copied Do Taenam's post exactly.
└ You fucking bastard!
└ Didn't you miss something?
└ What is this template, lollll
└ You fucking bastard
└ Author: YouBastard2
└ Lolllllll what do you mean just curse at me
└ You crazy bastards are short-circuiting, lol
That was the signal flare.
[You guys, don't do international marriage....]
— ....
└ Why?
└ You traitorous bastard!
└ Lollllll self-contradiction, I'm dead lol
[You guys, don't jerk off....]
Body: ....
└ Why?????????
└ This bastard held himself back, lolllll
The gallery was a true crucible of frenzy.
One person's tragic(?) cry had instantly turned into a fun game.
* * * *
Ah... fuck, this is shitty, really.
My name is Kim Jihun, twenty-six years old.
Right after being discharged from the military, my eyes rolled back like a bitch in heat, and I snatched up a fresh-faced freshman underclassman.
And successfully married her.
Back then, I was burning up as if possessed by something, and I thought it was true love.
But looking back now? Love, my ass.
It took a full two years to realize my dickhead was controlling my brain.
The reason for the divorce? This was hilarious too.
My damn wife whined every single day as if she had gotten the seven-year itch.
"Oppa, don't you think I got married too early?"
"I was in my prime, you know... I could have played more..."
She lived with those words constantly on her lips.
At first, I even found it cute. Because it was true.
I was twenty-four, and my wife was twenty-one.
An age far too young to get married.
But our family was quite well-off.
What people commonly call a head family.
A prestigious household passed down through generations, and thanks to that, we had many successful relatives.
The family business was the food business.
Not some grand franchise, but a jang (醬) shop.
A place that made jang—the foundation of food—like doenjang, gochujang, and ganjang.
They were quite a famous family by touting the master's handiwork or whatever, so we had a fair amount of money.
Anyway.
Back then, I was so fixated on something, obsessed with the thought that it had to be this woman, that I did something crazy.
I proposed marriage.
My girlfriend at the time, who became my wife, also said yes as if possessed by something.
The family's opposition was far fiercer than I had expected.
"Oh, come on! What marriage at that age?"
"You don't even have a job, and you're still a student! No way!"
Father and mother naturally opposed it.
My older brother just looked at me like I was a crazy bastard and said,
"Crazy bastard, acting up again?"
The sound of him clicking his tongue, tsk-tsk, was a bonus.
Even my younger sister, who was in high school, looked at me like I was a real lunatic.
If only I could go back to the past.
I was confident I could deliver a soccer kick to the head of my younger self, rolling on the floor throwing a tantrum.
Maybe it was because I grew up receiving nothing but pampering, but looking back now, I was truly a hopeless bastard.
In the end, after a month of throwing tantrums, I succeeded in persuading my parents.
No, rather than persuading them, my parents probably just got tired and gave up.
With reluctant expressions, my parents met my young girlfriend in person and asked,
"Really... you won't regret it?"
But we were a pair of cockroaches.
We showed a firm resolve as if we were independence fighters.
And so, the meeting of the parents was wrapped up quickly.
After all, we were both broke students.
My wife's family was ordinary too.
In the end, Father provided us with a substantial apartment, calling it atonement for taking in a young daughter-in-law.
And so, our sweet and bitter newlywed life began.
The first year was... yeah, honestly, really happy.
Twenty-four.
Wasn't it the age when a man's lust erupts like lava?
Morning, afternoon, evening.
I coveted my wife regardless of time or place.
But that heat only lasted exactly one year.
It gradually withered.
"After all, couples live on affection as time passes."
"We're family, why are you like this?"
Only after one year of marriage did I painfully empathize with those words.
I also gradually felt the pressure to work as the head of the household.
Of course, putting food on the table wasn't an immediate problem.
Because my parents diligently supported us with living expenses.
Especially, Father adored his young daughter-in-law.
He even handed her a card and said,
"My dear, if there's anything you want to buy, buy it all with this."
She was a girl who had lived scrimping and saving until now.
For such a girl to suddenly get her hands on a magic card that automatically recharged with money every month.
How could she not go wild?
The suppressed consumer desires she had held back all this time began bursting out as if a dam had broken.
She met her friends every day, swiping the card, and toured department stores shopping.
During that time, I occasionally stopped by my parents' house to help with making jang.
Of course, I never took my wife.
Why?
Because back then, I thought that was the husband's role.
I'd seen it countless times on the internet.
"Mediating conflicts between one's wife and in-laws is the role of a wise husband."
I thought not stressing her out with in-law matters was the best consideration.
Fuuuuck.
That it was all women's gaslighting, I had no idea back then.
Women are congenital gaslighters.
Not a learned skill, but something closer to an instinct engraved in their DNA for survival, as if breathing or blinking their eyes.
To get what they want, or to escape an unfavorable situation.
They very naturally distort facts, stimulate the other party's guilt, and place themselves in the position of the victim.
The prime example is exactly that magic sentence: "Is that all I mean to you, Oppa?"
No matter how logically correct a man is, with that one phrase, he instantly becomes a petty, selfish bad guy.
This was a survival strategy of women who had been physically inferior to men since the beginning of time.
With no chance of winning in a direct confrontation, they had fought by manipulating the opponent's emotions and turning public opinion to their side.
Just look at what women do among themselves—politicking is everyday life.
Creatures who spend their whole lives scheming in packs of women; it was only natural that men would fall for it in an instant.