Do you know about the female 'angbeoli' who owns seven apartments?
The term 'angbeoli' is not unfamiliar around Kangwon Land.
These are people who lost all their money at the casino but could not bring themselves to leave. Residents have long used this term for those who, having lost their families, jobs, and assets, drift between shabby monthly-rent rooms in Gohan and Sabuk, hovering around the casino day after day.
Some would place bets for others in exchange for small change, while others would hold seats for players. They would run errands for wealthy patrons or beg for meals. On lucky days, they might earn a few tens of thousands of won, but on bad days, they couldn't even afford a single meal.
They were the people the casino could never quite discard.
However, among them, there is one woman spoken of like a legend.
Ms. T, in her early 70s.
People called her 'Jjang-jjang's Mom' rather than her real name.
“She’s different from us. You could say she’s the only one among the angbeoli who actually made money.”
Mr. A, who has lived around Kangwon Land for over 10 years, changed his tone as soon as her story came up.
While most casino scavengers live empty-handed or buried in debt, Ms. T reportedly owns several apartments.
And it wasn't just one or two.
Six small, 15-pyeong (approx. 530 sq ft) working-class apartments in Sabuk.
Add the one she currently lives in, and the total is seven.
In a neighborhood where people who have lost their fortunes to the casino gather, the story of an 'angbeoli with seven apartments' is a paradox in itself.
Some envied her, while others couldn't believe it.
Still others said:
“That grandmother played by different rules than us from the start.”
Learning how not to lose at the casino
Ms. T reportedly enjoyed Baccarat.
However, she wasn't the type to throw money at the table the moment she sat down.
When she entered the casino, she would slowly scan a few tables.
She watched for a long time to see if the Player was winning consecutively, if the Banker was strong, and how the 'flow' was moving.
It was what casino regulars commonly call 'reading the pattern.'
Only when she found a table she liked would she take a seat.
She didn't bet big from the start, either.
She would test the flow with one or two 'coal chips' (small denomination chips).
She didn't get excited when she won, and she didn't blindly increase her bets when she lost.
Then, when she judged an opportunity had arrived, she would bet 100,000 won, or sometimes 200,000 to 300,000 won.
Mr. A remembered her betting style like this:
“Her intuition was uncanny. If someone was on a winning streak, she’d follow them, and if someone was consistently wrong, she’d bet on the opposite. While others played blindly on gut feeling, she was actually watching the people.”
In reality, Baccarat results aren't determined by a specific person's choices.
But for those who have lived in the casino world for a long time, everyone has their own superstitions and rules of thumb.
Ms. T also had her own principles.
The important thing wasn't whether those principles were objectively correct.
Unlike other scavengers who would bet everything they had that night as soon as they got some money, she knew how to stop at a certain point.
The most difficult skill around the casino is not winning money.
It is the skill of walking away from the casino.
Suppressing the greed to win more when you have money, and stopping the urge to recover your losses when you're down.
Most people collapse on those two points.
People say Ms. T was different.
For her, the casino was not a place to flip her life in one shot, but a place to slowly generate the money she needed.
The 'Go-Stop House' that started in a monthly-rent room
However, the money she used to buy those apartments didn't come solely from the casino.
In the world of those who have survived a long time around the casino, there is another economy outside the casino walls.
Back when she was drifting between monthly-rent rooms near Gohan Market, Ms. T reportedly rented a room and hosted Go-Stop games.
It was a so-called 'house.'
People who had finished their casino sessions or had no money left to enter the casino would gather in groups.
A Hwatu mat would be laid out in the middle of the room.
People would stay up all night.
Coffee was served, and ramen and rice were provided.
Rather than playing herself, Ms. T provided the space and charged a 'seat fee.'
5,000 won per hour.
To one person, it was a small amount.
But when four, six, or eight people occupied the seats all night, it was a different story.
On top of that, there were side incomes from meals and coffee.
She didn't make a fortune at once, but money came in every day.
Mr. A recalled those days:
“We would blow our money at the casino as soon as we got it. But she would collect seat fees while we played Go-Stop. If you save that day by day, it adds up to real money.”
Ms. T reportedly kept that up for over eight years.
While people around the casino were losing money, she was collecting it.
While people were betting, fighting, laughing, and crying over the game, she was securing her rent.
It was the same at the casino.
The more excited others got, the calmer she became.
Her way of surviving was different.
Facing lung cancer
However, even for her, as she was accumulating wealth, a crisis arrived.
Her body felt strange.
According to those around her, the test results showed she had lung cancer.
Chemotherapy began.
From then on, she closed the Go-Stop house she had operated for so long.
Around the casino, health is more frightening than money.
Day-night reversed lifestyles, cigarette smoke, irregular meals, and long hours spent in the casino.
You can endure it when you're young, but as you age, your body sends signals first.
Many scavengers left Gohan and Sabuk after falling ill like that.
Some returned to their hometowns, and others drifted between hospitals and nursing homes.
But Ms. T survived.
She endured the chemotherapy and reclaimed her daily life.
From then on, people began to see her differently.
It wasn't just that she had saved money; she had actually survived.
When she had money, she went to real estate, not the casino
The defining difference between Ms. T and other scavengers was what she did after earning money.
Most gamblers, when they earn 1 million won, want to make it 2 million.
Once they make 2 million, they get greedy for 5 million.
If they win 5 million and then lose it, they want to recover it by aiming for 10 million.
Eventually, they lose everything they have.
It is the most common scene in the casino.
However, people around her said that when Ms. T accumulated money, she didn't put it back into the casino.
Once money piled up to a certain level, she bought real estate.
At the time, old, small apartments in the Sabuk area weren't as expensive as those in big cities.
She reportedly bought one every time her cash savings grew.
One.
Two.
Three.
While others were losing tens of millions of won at the casino, her number of apartments kept increasing.
Testimony from those around her suggests she eventually came to own six small apartments in the Sabuk area.
Plus the one relatively nice apartment she lives in herself.
Seven in total.
A woman who once wandered between monthly-rent rooms near Gohan Market had become a landlord.
“She didn't waste her money.”
Mr. A repeated that phrase several times.
She didn't dress luxuriously, nor did she seek out expensive food.
She wasn't the type to show off her wealth to others, either.
When she earned money, she saved it, and when it piled up, she bought a house.
She repeatedly did the hardest thing for casino people.
Turning cash into assets.
The man twenty years her junior
Her story became even more of a hot topic around the casino a few years ago.
A man appeared by her side.
He was reportedly about twenty years younger than her.
He was an unmarried man.
The two began living together.
People around the casino called him her husband, or sometimes just her live-in partner.
Some said with a laugh:
“I don’t know if he’s a husband or a chauffeur.”
The man drove her around in a car.
They went grocery shopping and to the hospital together.
He even drove her when she went to the casino.
The sight of a woman in her 70s accompanied by a man twenty years her junior naturally became a topic of conversation in the small casino town.
Especially among male scavengers in the same situation, jokes mixed with envy and jealousy emerged.
“We lose money at the casino and don’t have women, but that sister has seven houses and a young man.”
People laughed, but there was bitterness mixed into that laughter.
They had all lived around the casino for decades, yet some lived in monthly-rent rooms while others became landlords.
Some lost contact with their families, while others lived with a young companion.
They were in the same space called a casino, but the outcomes were vastly different.
“The only successful person among the scavengers”
After talking about Ms. T for a long time, Mr. A said this at the end:
“I’ve been watching people here for over 10 years. She is the only one among the scavengers I can call successful.”
Of course, there is a paradox in the expression 'successful.'
One cannot define a life spent decades around a casino as a success.
It is not accurately known why she was separated from her family or why she ended up drifting through Gohan and Sabuk.
The claim that she owns several apartments is also a story passed down based on the long-standing testimony of those around her.
But one thing was certain.
In the same environment, she survived in a different way.
When people who lost money and fell into despair headed back to the casino, she saved money.
When people aimed for one big hit, she collected small change.
When she earned money at the casino, instead of putting it back in, she bought apartments.
She didn't even take the 5,000 won seat fee lightly.
The small money accumulated that way met the passage of time and became houses.
One became two, and two became six.
And before she knew it, she became a legend among the scavengers of Gohan and Sabuk.
The casino changes the lives of countless people.
But it doesn't change them in the way most people dream of.
Some enter with dreams of turning 1 million won into hundreds of millions, only to lose everything they own.
Some stay around the casino for 10 or 20 years, claiming they will recover their losses.
In the meantime, their hair turns white and their families and friends grow distant.
Ms. T also lived within that world.
It’s just that she seemed to have one thing that others lacked.
Knowing when to stop.
People who don't return their money to the casino are far rarer than those who win money at the casino.
Looking at the old apartments in Gohan and Sabuk, I sometimes think this:
Somewhere behind one of those small windows must be the home of an old woman who survived decades around the casino.
And somewhere in another alley, there must be the small apartments she bought, penny by penny.
A city where people who lost their lives in the casino have passed through countless times.
A woman who drifted through monthly-rent rooms there eventually became a landlord.
That is why the old scavengers around Kangwon Land still talk about her.
Half envy, half jealousy.
And with an expression of disbelief.
“The scavenger woman who owns seven apartments?
That person was truly a tough one.”
