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CH508 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-09-23 14:39:33 +0000 UTC“Here’s your coffee.”
“Ah, thank you.”
When Na Seongmi set the cup down with a faint smile and stepped out, Seok-won stayed seated and looked at the day’s issue of the Hansung Daily in his hand.
[Bluehole Venture Capital, Massive Sale of Gold Bank Shares… Earns 210 Billion Won]
Alongside an interview published yesterday, the large headline separately announced the sale of Bluehole’s stake in Gold Bank.
“They didn’t say exactly how much profit we made, but their guess was pretty close.”
Seok-won folded the paper in half, set it down, and turned his head toward the stock ticker on the monitor.
“Gold Bank: 14,350”
Since the market hadn’t opened yet, the screen still showed yesterday’s closing price. Taking a sip of his coffee, he murmured to himself,
“Will caution pull the price down here, or will greed win over fear and blow the bubble up even bigger? We’ll know soon enough.”
Having already turned 1 billion won into 210 billion, Seok-won wasn’t too concerned. Even if the value of his remaining shares were to collapse, the damage would be negligible. At this point, he only hoped that individual investors would come to their senses and stop inflating the bubble further.
***
“Kim, did you see the article in today’s Hansung Daily?”
The man in the floral shirt fidgeted nervously, a rolled-up newspaper clutched in one hand.
Standing at a terminal in the corner of the trading hall, a middle-aged man was jotting something down in a small notebook. He turned to glance at the man in the floral shirt and replied.
“You mean the one about Bluehole selling off its Gold Bank shares?”
“They say a major shareholder dumped everything and walked away. Doesn’t that sound dangerous?”
His face had gone pale. Just days earlier, he had not only thrown in all his cash but also maxed out his margin account to pour everything into Gold Bank. No wonder the article had his stomach in knots.
The middle-aged man, known as Kim, had also gone all-in on Gold Bank using full credit. Yet, for some reason, he remained calm.
“If they made a big profit, of course they’d sell. Nothing strange about that.”
Expecting him to share his anxiety, the man in the floral shirt was taken aback by Kim’s relaxed demeanor.
“It’s not just anyone—we’re talking about a major shareholder who held more than half the company’s stock selling off his stake. Isn’t that a huge deal?”
But the middle-aged man replied with the same indifferent tone.
“So, are you planning to sell your Gold Bank shares?”
“Well…”
The man, who had just been making a fuss as if the price were about to collapse, faltered at Kim’s question and couldn’t answer right away.
The stock was expensive. He was worried about being stuck at the peak, yet at the same time, he feared that if he sold in a panic and the price didn’t fall but kept climbing instead, he would regret it. That hesitation kept him from dumping his shares.
Closing his notebook and slipping it into his pocket, the middle-aged man spoke as if to drive the point home.
“You’re hesitating like this, and don’t you think others will be the same? If I had to guess, there are probably more people waiting to scoop up shares from the scared sellers at a discount than there are people actually trying to sell.”
Then he pulled a pre-written order form from his pocket and held it up.
“People like me.”
The middle-aged man shrugged at the floral-shirted fellow, who was staring at him wide-eyed.
“Well, it’s your money. I’m not going to tell you what to do. Just don’t sell in a rush and end up regretting it later.”
With that, he said he’d step out for a smoke before the market opened and walked past.
The man in the floral shirt watched his relaxed back with a conflicted expression.
After hearing Kim’s words, he began to wonder if this wasn’t actually bad news but rather an opportunity to buy cheap shares from panicked sellers. Maybe he’d been overreacting.
And it wasn’t just him. Across the board, retail investors were flustered by the sudden news of a major shareholder selling his stake, unsure how to respond.
“Damn it, where did this come from all of a sudden?”
“If the major shareholder sold, shouldn’t we get out before it crashes too?”
“Shit, I even bought another 500 shares on margin yesterday! Why does news like this have to break now?”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“This is driving me crazy.”
Groups of acquaintances huddled together, speaking in hushed, serious tones, while others nervously paced back and forth between the market boards and their terminals.
As the opening time drew near, the uneasy crowd held their breath and fixed their eyes on the giant market board mounted on the wall.
Today, time seemed to crawl by even slower than usual. At last, the opening bell rang loudly from the speakers.
Sweaty palms clenched and dry throats swallowed hard as everyone waited for the numbers on the big board to change.
The man in the floral shirt, after much hesitation, had decided not to place a sell order. Instead, he clasped his hands tightly together like he was praying, standing beside the middle-aged man with an anxious heart.
Soon, the numbers on the large board began to shift one by one, and groans and sighs erupted from the crowd.
[Gold Bank: 13,950 (▼400)]
“Oh no!”
“Dammit, it’s dropping!”
“I should’ve sold yesterday.”
Regretful voices spilled out as people grabbed their heads in despair.
The man in the floral shirt also went pale in an instant, his hands trembling.
“Sh-should I sell now?”
Grabbing the arm of the middle-aged man beside him, he shouted,
“Kim, what do we do now? Selling really was the right move, wasn’t it?”
Even Kim’s expression had tightened, showing his own tension.
“The market has only just opened. Let’s wait a little longer.”
“Shit, this is driving me insane…”
The man in the floral shirt stamped his feet in frustration, yet couldn’t shake the hope of a rebound. He stayed rooted to the spot, unwilling to give up just yet.
[Gold Bank: 13,600 (▼650)]
However, contrary to their desperate hopes, the price of Gold Bank continued to slide downward. Some could no longer endure the pressure and began rushing to the counters to sell.
“It’s over. I need to sell before it falls any further!”
“Damn it. How much have I lost already?”
Seeing that, others wavered nervously, whispering and panicking.
“What should I do?”
“If it drops any lower, I’ll be out on the streets. Damn it all.”
“Please, just go up. Please.”
The confusion swelled, and just as anxiety was about to tip over into outright fear, the man in the floral shirt finally snapped and turned toward the counter.
“I can’t take this anymore. I have to cut my losses here!”
But just as he took his first step, the middle-aged man beside him shouted.
“Wait! Look at that!”
Puzzled, the man in the floral shirt turned his head—and his eyebrows shot up at the numbers flashing on the giant market board.
The stock that had seemed destined to plunge straight to the lower limit was suddenly clawing its way back up, as if by magic.
“…”
[Gold Bank: 13,900 (▼450)]
“Oh…”
“The price is rebounding!”
“Look at that trading volume! Damn, I shouldn’t have sold… It’s shooting right back up.”
“At this rate, it might erase the entire drop.”
“See? I told you. This isn’t the kind of company that collapses so easily.”
“That’s it!”
The atmosphere in the trading hall flipped in an instant. Fear, which had been seconds from sparking panic, was swept away by cheers and sighs of relief.
Those who had sold in haste cursed under their breath, faces twisted in regret, as they scrambled back to the counters to buy Gold Bank shares again.
The man in the floral shirt pressed a hand to his chest with a long sigh. If he’d been just a little slower, he would have been regretting it alongside them.
Looking at the stock graph, which had already recovered nearly all its losses, he clenched his fist tight.
“Yes. That’s it!”
***
At the same time.
In the Bluehole Venture Capital asset management office, where tension had been running high, a collective sigh of relief escaped as Gold Bank’s stock, which had plunged at the open, began to rebound.
“The losses are narrowing quickly!”
At Yoo Seok-hyeon’s report, Choi Ho-geun—standing before the giant market board with his shirt sleeves rolled up, eyes fixed on the price movement—asked,
“What about the trading volume?”
Tapping on the keyboard, Yu Seokhyeon lifted his head and answered, looking at his boss, who stood with arms crossed.
“There’s still a lot of selling pressure, but buy orders are flooding in and absorbing it all!”
“The moment the decline hit just over six percent, a wave of bargain hunters rushed in, holding the floor firmly. At this rate, it won’t hit the lower limit.”
When Jung Hwan-yeop added his thoughts, Choi Ho-geun gave a small nod, agreeing.
“We still have fifteen million shares left to unload. If this kind of “buy the dip” demand keeps coming in, we should be able to sell them off without much trouble.”
Jung Hwan-yeop, watching his monitor, offered the optimistic assessment.
“I think so too,” Hong Jae-hee cautiously agreed, and the seated Yoo Seok-hyeon added his voice as well.
“Even with the news that the major shareholder sold, the price is holding. It shows there are still plenty of people willing to buy Gold Bank, even at these levels.”
Leaning back in his chair with his fingers laced behind his head, Jung Hwan-yeop remarked,
“That’s just investor psychology. No matter how expensive, people want to buy a stock that keeps climbing. But if it’s falling—even if it’s undervalued—nobody wants to touch it.”
“That’s really true. When a stock is rising, it feels like it’ll keep going up, but when it’s falling, you’re scared of buying and ending up in the red,” said Noh Heewon, who had only recently shed his status as a complete novice.
Glancing at Choi Ho-geun, who was still watching the big board, Jung Hwan-yeop pressed further.
“If the rebound takes hold here, we’ll probably see momentum buyers chase it, pushing the price up sharply, won’t we?”
“That does look like the picture,” Choi admitted.
“At this pace, it could easily break past the previous high. Maybe we should hold back on selling a little longer and watch how things play out.”
“Hmm.”
Choi Ho-geun stroked his chin, his face marked with deep thought.
Even in his eyes, the way the stock shook off the bad news and surged upward looked like it had real momentum. If he delayed selling just a bit, he could grow their profits considerably.
If the price truly broke past its previous high, they stood to make over ten billion won more. The temptation was only natural.
But then he recalled Seok-won’s warning: focus on unloading all the shares rather than chasing the price, as long as the stock didn’t collapse. The reminder quickly ended his hesitation.
“No. We’ll stick to the original plan. For today, just watch the situation, and starting tomorrow, resume unloading the position.”
“Yes, understood.”
Jung Hwan-yeop looked disappointed but didn’t argue and simply followed orders.
“But when you sell, manage the volume so you don’t break the upward trend.”
“Easier said than done. Do you know how hard that is?”
“Why, you little—”
Just as Choi shot him a glare and was about to retort, Jung quickly cut him off.
“You were going to say, “That’s why we pay you such a high salary,” weren’t you?”
“Glad you already know.”
“What, I can’t even complain a little?”
As the two bickered in their usual way, Yoo Seok-hyeon chuckled, then suddenly raised his voice while checking his monitor.
“The losses are completely recovered—it’s back up to yesterday’s closing price!”
[Gold Bank: 14,350]
“Oh? He’s right.”
“I thought it would take until the afternoon session to recover. This stock really has strength.”
Jung Hwan-yeop shook his head in disbelief.
“It’s undeniably expensive, but with this kind of momentum, even I wouldn’t be able to sit still. I’d feel compelled to jump in.”
Choi smacked his lips. No matter how he looked at it, Gold Bank was an obvious bubble—yet it wasn’t bursting, only soaring ever higher.
“Tsk.”
For a moment, he wondered if he had left the party too early while the celebration was still in full swing. But he silently repeated Seok-won’s instructions to himself and forced the thought down.
