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CH336 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-08-27 16:47:49 +0000 UTCA securities trading floor in Nihonbashi, Tokyo.
About a dozen individual investors were seated—or standing—in front of a large electronic ticker board that covered an entire wall.
The atmosphere was grim. The stock market had been falling for days, and it showed on everyone’s faces.
“Toyota’s down too, huh…”
Grumbled a man in a floral print shirt. A middle-aged man in a fedora, holding a folded financial newspaper, replied.
“When the yen strengthens, export car prices go up. Even Toyota can’t escape that.”
The man in the floral shirt clicked his tongue in frustration.
“Tch. Looks like I’m screwed again today. Might as well hit up a pachinko parlor later.”
“That’s how it goes in the stock game. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.”
“Judging from what you’re saying, sounds like your portfolio’s holding up alright?”
“It’s taken a hit too, sure, but compared to other stocks, it’s not so bad.”
Shrugging, the middle-aged man offered a bit of advice.
“That’s why I told you not to just chase the big wins. In times like these, dividend stocks help stabilize things.”
“Tch. Life’s about big moves, man. If you’re a real man, you go big or go home.”
The man in the floral shirt stood up with a sour expression.
“Market’s not closed yet. You leaving already?”
“My stomach’s in knots. I need a smoke.”
He answered gruffly and was just about to take a step toward the door—when suddenly, the room stirred.
“What the—?”
“What’s going on all of a sudden?”
“Seriously, what is that?”
Turning with a puzzled look, he followed the others’ gaze—only for his eyes to widen in shock.
Just moments ago, the stocks of Nomura, Daiwa, Nikko, and Yamaichi Securities had been relatively stable amid the market downturn.
But now, as if on cue, all four were plummeting sharply:
[Nomura Securities: 1,410.9 (▼198.4)]
[Daiwa Securities: 799.2 (▼86.7)]
[Nikko Securities: 672.1 (▼118.5)]
[Yamaichi Securities: 693.7 (▼66.6)]
The man instinctively looked at the middle-aged investor. The man who had seemed so composed just moments ago now shot up from his chair, cursing loudly.
“Goddamn it!”
It made sense—he had poured a significant amount of money into Nomura Securities, which was now plummeting.
“Look at that drop! Whew... Thank god I sold my Nikko stock earlier this morning.”
“Did some bad news break? This drop is way too steep.”
All eyes were glued to the ticker board, where it looked as if the stocks, which had stubbornly held up while others dipped, were finally crashing all at once.
“This... this doesn’t look good.”
The man in the floral shirt glanced sideways at the middle-aged investor.
The older man’s face flushed red with anger as he slammed his newspaper onto the floor.
“Shit!”
He immediately bolted toward the transaction counter at the back of the trading floor, desperate to sell his Nomura shares.
Grabbing a female staff member, he begged and demanded that she sell off his stocks immediately. Watching him, the man in the floral shirt snorted in amusement.
“And he was just acting all high and mighty a second ago.”
At that same moment…
Inside the Asset Management Division, the air was electric with tension as the team continued to dump shares of Japan’s four major securities firms.
Riiing! Riiing!
“Nomura Securities, 2,000 shares sold at 1,400!”
“Nikko at 670—no, 669! 1,500 shares filled!”
“Got it!”
The atmosphere was like a battlefield. Arms crossed and standing tall, Choi Ho-geun was glaring at the giant ticker board across the room, tracking the numbers like a hawk.
“Jung, how much have we sold so far?” he asked, turning his head.
Jung Hwan-yeop checked one of several monitors on his desk and called out loudly:
“Combined across all four stocks, we’ve just passed 30 billion yen.”
That was well over 3 trillion Korean won, a massive sum. Normally, even that kind of money wouldn’t be enough to tank the Big Four’s stock prices all at once.
But with the yen surging and the Nikkei dropping for several days straight, investor sentiment was already fragile. Once the large sell orders hit the market, fear spread like wildfire.
Just like a herd of impalas panicking at the scent of a predator, spooked investors started dumping their stocks in a frenzy, worsening the crash.
Choi Ho-geun gave a sharp nod and issued his next command.
“Good. While the momentum’s hot, don’t hold back—keep pushing. Drag those prices down hard!”
“But sir… what if we burn through all our ammo now and the prices rebound? We’d be screwed.”
Jung voiced his concern, looking worried.
They had already used over half the funds—leveraged heavily using assets from Goldman Sachs' Japan branch—and failure could mean total ruin.
But Choi Ho-geun answered with a cool, almost unnerving calm.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Sir?”
The unexpected response left not only Jung Hwan-yeop but also the rest of the team exchanging confused glances.
“We’re just the spark that starts the fire. The real bomb is already in place. So, don’t worry about it.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Jung Hwan-yeop tilted his head, a question mark clearly visible on his face at this unfamiliar statement.
Choi Ho-geun grinned, exposing his teeth as he answered cryptically.
“You’ll understand what I mean in a few days. It’ll be obvious.”
Though curiosity was now piqued, Jung Hwan-yeop sensed he wouldn’t get a straight answer, so he reluctantly let the question slide.
At least it wasn’t reckless and aimless; there was a method behind the madness. Nodding, Jung Hwan-yeop responded.
“Understood. We’ll keep selling until the accounts are drained.”
“That’s the way.”
Turning his chair back to his monitor, Jung Hwan-yeop cracked his neck from side to side.
“If there’s no limit, let’s see how far we can push this. Time to unleash a selling storm.”
Excitement sparkled in Jung Hwan-yeop’s eyes as he prepared to go full throttle.
“Remember what the boss said! Don’t hold back, dump everything and make sure the chart keeps dropping—no recovery until the market closes!”
“Yes!”
“Got it!”
The sound of rapid typing and shouting orders into the phone filled the air as the team followed Choi Ho-geun’s orders. With every sell-off, panic spread among investors, leading even more to cut their losses.
The trickle of bargain hunters that had been slowly creeping in also quickly vanished, spooked by the accelerating drop. As more investors fled, the stocks fell even faster.
By the end of the day, all four major stocks had plunged more than 15%, nosediving toward new lows.
Amid this chaos, Choi Ho-geun stood with his arms crossed, his gaze slightly lowered to the Indonesian stock market chart on his monitor. A knowing, cryptic smile spread across his face.
[IDX: 449.81 (▼37.06)]
Meanwhile...
Usami, the executive, had been unable to sleep properly for several days, his eyes bloodshot and tired. Frozen like a statue, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his monitor.
Despite all the measures he had tried to prevent the Indonesian stock market from dropping below 450 points, nothing had worked.
The moment the exchange rate broke through 4 rupiah per dollar, it was clear—everything was over.
Once it became certain that the Indonesian government could no longer defend the rupiah, companies stopped bringing export revenue back home. Even the local banks halted all dollar exchanges, pushing the situation into utter disaster.
In a desperate attempt to prop up the Indonesian stock market, Usami had ended up causing even more losses, running into the tens of millions of dollars.
“…It’s all over now.”
Usami, slumping in his chair with his shoulders drooping in defeat, couldn’t help but regret his decision to buy Indonesian stocks in the end.
But now, it was all pointless to dwell on what could have been.
Just then, the silence was shattered by the loud ringing of the phone.
Beep, beep. Beep, beep.
Usami hesitated for a long while before answering, the ringing stopping and then starting again. Finally, he reluctantly reached out and picked up the receiver.
As expected, a heavy voice came from the other end.
“It’s Yamakawa.”
Usami, his face stiff, looked down at the floor as he responded.
“Yes, what is it?”
“You know why I’m calling, don’t you?”
“...Yes.”
“I won’t mince words. I need you to clear your desk and leave by today.”
“S-Sir.”
The unexpected blow left Usami gasping for air.
“The only reason I’m doing this lightly is because of our old relationship.”
He knew better than anyone that he had caused massive losses for the company, and there was nothing left for him to say.
So, Usami fell silent, unable to reply, his face deeply troubled.
“Your severance will be settled as usual, so please accept it.”
With great difficulty, Usami forced himself to speak.
“...Thank you.”
Yamakawa, seemingly having no more to say, abruptly hung up the phone.
Beep, beep...
The cold beeping noise echoed as Usami slowly set the receiver down. He sank back into his chair, his head hanging in despair.
Meanwhile, in Itaewon, Yongsan District, Seoul.
Late at night, with few people around, Seok-won sat across from his bodyguard, Baucus, in a quiet Burger Queen store, holding his phone and engaged in a call.
[…When the Indonesian stock market broke below 450 points, I immediately sent payment requests to the securities companies with option contracts.]
Hearing Porter’s report, Seok-won sat with one leg crossed and replied in English.
“How are they reacting?”
[Well, since they have to pay up another $1 billion, they’re all in a terrible mood. I’ve heard rumors that Usami from Nomura Securities, who was pushing the contracts, has resigned.]
“Hmm. I see.”
[I bet we’ll soon hear of other securities officials stepping down, likely due to our contract with them.]
“That’s the way it goes in this game. There are always winners and losers.”
[Exactly.]
Porter agreed and then asked.
[What should we do once the funds are transferred?]
“This time, make sure to transfer everything to the headquarters account.”
[Understood.]
Ending the call, Seok-won closed his phone and put it in his pocket.
At that moment, his driver, Jugeun seong, came over with a plastic tray piled high with burgers and fries and placed it on the table.
“Here’s the burger set.”
Seok-won, seeing the wrapped burgers and cola, smiled with an expression of hunger.
“Looks delicious. Everyone, feel free to eat.”
“Yes! Thank you.”
Jugeun seong, sitting in the empty seat next to Baucus, grinned widely.
“By the way, it seems like you really like hamburgers.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well… you’ve been stopping by here for a late-night snack every day for the past week, haven’t you?”
Jugeun seong scratched the back of his head with one hand.
Indeed, it wasn’t just once or twice. Seok-won had been coming to the burger shop for more than a week, spending over an hour there before heading home, so it was natural for Jugeun seong to think that way.
In truth, Seok-won preferred spicy hangover soup over burgers, but for reasons other than taste, he was forcing himself to eat late-night snacks daily to pass the time.
But unlike before, when he had vivid memories of the events to come, now that the supposed event date had passed without anything happening, he felt his tension slowly ease.
‘Could it be that I’ve thrown off the flow of things?’
If that were true, it would be a huge relief.
Just then, a young couple, appearing to be college students, entered the store. The man left the woman at a table and walked toward the restroom.
At the same time, three rough-looking men entered through the glass door.
Two of them glanced around, then locked eyes with each other and headed toward the restroom.
Seeing this, Seok-won’s face immediately hardened.
