Become the Protagonist of a Conspiracy Theory! (1)
“The CEO of Makers is coming in person?”
Lee Jaseung was coming to Seosung Securities today!
The moment the news spread, the entire Global Headquarters buzzed with restless energy. On any other day, this would have been the hour when everyone had their noses buried in monitors, but the atmosphere was completely different now.
“Why’s he coming? Don’t tell me he’s liquidating the position today?”
“Hey, you think he knew the JGB shock was coming?”
“Right? Should I try talking to him? Even one word would be a jackpot…”
The whispering never stopped—until Lee Jaseung walked in alongside Seo Minjae.
In an instant, the clatter of keyboards accelerated. It was the sound of the company messenger exploding.
And sure enough, Manager Lee from the Structured Products Division bravely approached.
“CEO! Good morning.”
“Yes, good morning.”
Lee Jaseung returned the greeting with perfect courtesy. Polite, but that was as far as it went. As if he had no desire for further conversation, he simply finished the greeting and continued walking.
The two men disappeared toward the PBS department, leaving the remaining employees with nothing to do but watch their retreating figures. Quiet sighs rippled through the office. Someone posted a chat dripping with envy.
But the PBS team members were no better off. They abandoned every meeting and every report, swarming to the glass windows. Bright, sparkling eyes pressed right up against the glass of the department head’s office.
Director—
Slap.
Please ask Representative Lee Jaseung—
Slap.
If by any chance—
Slap.
The JGB shoc—
Slap.
Seo Minjae mercilessly dropped every single blind and turned around. The team’s collective groans carried all the way inside.
Lee Jaseung watched the spectacle and let the corner of his mouth curl upward, clearly amused.
“Popular, aren’t you?”
“Me? They all came to see you.”
“I know. That’s why I said it.”
“…”
Seo Minjae shook his head in exasperation.
Exactly as everyone expected, Lee Jaseung had come today to liquidate the position.
A few days earlier, the “Japanese government bond shock” had shaken the entire world. Seo Minjae still remembered the exact moment he saw the first line of that news. Even while reading the headline on the screen, his brain had refused to keep up.
How did a JGB shock hit at this exact timing?
It had been almost heaven-sent timing.
Or else Lee Jaseung had simply grabbed heaven by the scruff of the neck.
Seo Minjae finally asked the question that had been gnawing at him—and that the whole of Seosung Securities probably wanted to ask.
“Did you know the JGB shock was coming?”
Lee Jaseung answered with complete calm.
“To drive the yen down, Japan bought government bonds in massive volume. When you force that kind of buying into a market already starved of liquidity, rates are going to spike. An obvious prediction…”
“There’s no way it was that simple!”
The Japanese government wasn’t stupid. They had managed every detail with exquisite precision specifically to prevent side effects like this. Yet the textbook scenario of “market distortion from excessive central bank intervention” had actually exploded— in an economic powerhouse like Japan, no less.
Seo Minjae looked back at the monitor.
So he really had predicted even this far.
A hollow laugh escaped him.
A 5,000 percent return.
He had truly believed it was impossible. Even while following the strategy he had kept thinking, Can this actually work? Now the target was almost within reach. Maybe, just maybe, they really could turn 100 billion into 5 trillion.
It would be a legendary achievement that would live forever in the history of finance.
At this level… shouldn’t it be going into textbooks?
The thought crossed his mind—then he glanced at Lee Jaseung and immediately corrected himself.
No. Absolutely not. If students saw this and tried to learn from it, they’d ruin their lives.
The yen kept sliding. Speculative capital that had caught the scent was already gathering for round two. A shark that has tasted blood never forgets the flavor.
The decline was only beginning.
The Japanese government could not possibly be unaware of the current. But—
“If they cut rates, the yen falls even further.”
Interest rates and the yen moved in the same direction. To lower rates, they would have no choice but to drive the yen lower still. Japan had already lost control of the currency. If it fell further from here?
“It would be nearly a fatal blow to the Japanese economy.”
“They have no choice. What was Japan’s original reason for wanting the yen weaker?”
“Escaping deflation, boosting export competitiveness, and…”
Seo Minjae finished the sentence.
“Government debt.”
“Exactly. National debt surpassing 1,000 trillion yen. The only way to lighten that burden was to devalue the yen. But if rates spike? The budget is already being eaten alive just paying the interest. If rates double? The fiscal system freezes solid. And more importantly—”
Lee Jaseung drove the point home.
“The moment they try to restore the yen’s value, they are admitting that Satonomics has failed.”
“Political suicide.”
The corner of Lee Jaseung’s mouth lifted.
“Of course, for me that side would be more entertaining.”
“…”
It was, in every sense, a dogshit situation. Japan held only two cards: worst, or next-to-worst.
The conclusion was already clear.
“So the yen has no choice but to fall.”
And so it was.
Exactly thirty-seven minutes later, an emergency announcement from the Japanese government hit the wires.
Additional yen flooded the market, and as expected the currency’s value began plunging sharply.
Lee Jaseung looked at Seo Minjae and said quietly,
“Let’s begin.”
That single sentence moved the entire desk as if someone had pulled a lever.
Team Leader Kim Taeyoung, head of the Makers desk, shouted immediately.
“Begin full position liquidation!”
“Waaaaah!”
Heat flooded the desk in an instant.
In this very moment—tens of billions of dollars in profit were turning into reality.
Exactly at the point where the yen had fallen 30 percent.
At that exquisite level, Makers’ liquidation process began.
“Liquidity is insane. It’s going out with almost zero resistance!”
The exposed position size alone was 100 trillion won. But the current dollar-yen market was a sea thrashing under a tsunami. Makers’ capital slipped out of the market in perfect concealment, leaving “not even a trace.”
Did the Japanese government know?
That the person who had gutted the yen this thoroughly was now exiting with Japan’s own help.
“Maybe I should try copying him next time?”
“Don’t even think about it. Lee Jaseung doesn’t catch timing—he creates it.”
At last the liquidation was complete.
Dozens of positions converted into cash, and the moment the final profit printed on the system, they lost the ability to speak—this time from pure shock and awe.
“Uh… just from our desk alone it’s 2.1221 trillion won.”
Team Leader Kim Taeyoung accepted the report as if he could not believe it.
“Is this right? No mistakes?”
“Yes, triple-checked. No errors.”
Approximately 2 trillion from their desk alone. For reference, Lee Jaseung had contracted with ten brokers. Meaning this profit was only one-tenth of the total.
Traders stared at one another with dazed expressions.
“Then how much is the total profit?”
Hanyeong Auto Group.
Chairman Han, Han Juhyeong, and the chief of staff sat clustered together in the conference room. The investment report lay quietly on the table. The three of them stared down at it with the expressions of people who had just seen a unicorn.
“…”
“…”
“…”
…What am I even looking at right now?
The chief of staff broke the silence carefully.
“Chairman, you clearly said we only invested 300 billion, correct?”
“I did.”
“Then why does my eye keep seeing an investment recovery of 2.7 trillion?”
“…”
Total silence.
Sometimes you encounter something so astonishing that it goes past admiration and into pure disbelief. This was exactly that moment.
Initial investment: 300 billion won.
Final recovery: 2.7 trillion won.
The return rate approached exactly 900 percent.
Even Han Juhyeong was dumbfounded. He had been one of Makers’ earliest members, yet every single time still felt brand new.
“2.7 trillion. Isn’t that our quarterly net profit at Hanyeong Auto Group?”
“…You’re right. Mr. Lee just earned us an entire quarterly net profit in one shot.”
Hanyeong’s quarterly net profit sat between 2 and 3 trillion won. They had just extracted that level of profit from a single currency-hedge investment. All the effort of manufacturing cars, producing parts, and exporting across the globe had been replaced by one investment.
Chairman Han let out a hollow laugh.
“Heh heh heh heh. So this is… what people call a lottery?”
Whenever he saw news about someone winning 2 billion on the lottery, he had never understood it.
Why would anyone buy a ticket just for that money?
But after making 2 trillion, he finally felt the sensation. He had spent his whole life diligently earning money through every kind of business, only for a single investment to generate the same amount all at once.
In his later years he had gained a new enlightenment.
Life really is one big score.
Yet what he had gained was not merely short-term profit. These days the news carried headlines like this with increasing frequency:
Chairman Han asked,
“Juhyeong.”
“Yes?”
“What is the Tokyo branch saying?”
“Word is that the Sato cabinet is talking about adjusting the pace of the policy. Well, after taking a hit like that, they’ll be more careful next time, right?”
Exactly the goal Lee Jaseung had stated from the beginning. He had finally put the brakes on Satonomics. The yen short frenzy, the government bond market shock— the yen had fallen a full 30 percent, and international criticism was pouring in. Like it or not, the Japanese government would have to slow down.
“Hah, well now. Just as we were about to set up countermeasures, the problem itself is solving.”
They would not be able to stop the yen’s weakness completely. But a gentle decline around the 10 percent range was something they could endure. He had no choice but to admit it.
“Entrusting this to Mr. Lee was truly the right decision.”
At that moment the chief of staff carefully asked,
“Um… about this performance. I’m a little worried about the method of recognizing the profit. Will it be all right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Turning 300 billion into 2.7 trillion is going to raise questions no matter who looks at it. Officially the documents say ten-times leverage was applied, but with an actual return of 900 percent…”
“…”
“…”
…They had never expected to make this much money. At first it had been a slightly aggressive hedge strategy. In the end it was pure currency speculation by anyone’s measure.
“Still, Hanyeong Auto Group itself didn’t do it, correct? It was discretionary management.”
“That’s the one fortunate part. Shall we ask Makers to split the recognition across quarters?”
While the two adults fretted over practical concerns, Han Juhyeong remained pure sunshine. Chairman Han scolded him with clear disapproval.
“This is something you’ll have to learn later. Take it to heart.”
But Han Juhyeong tilted his head.
“Is that really going to be a problem?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is there even a single group in this country that didn’t short?”
“…”
Everyone else did it, so we did it too!
We just… earned a tiny, tiiiiny bit more!
With quarterly earnings season approaching, the Korean stock market was more anxious than ever. As a result, investment communities also burned with posts condemning Japan.
In truth, the only result ordinary investors could immediately see was that the exchange rate had soared 33 percent. There was no way for them to know what kind of FX hedging strategies companies had actually employed.
Of course, whispers like this occasionally circulated.
They had hedged, but no one expected much from it. Derivatives were often used for speculation, but their original purpose was “risk management.” Expecting to make serious money with them was unrealistic.
That was why the outlook heading into earnings season was bleak.
Shareholders of shipbuilding and auto companies, which were especially sensitive to exchange-rate swings, were sweating bullets.
The long-awaited earnings announcement.
First up was Hanyeong Auto Group.
Hanyeong Auto Group headquarters auditorium.
Money News reporter Cho Miyeon showed her ID at the entrance and waited inside with a tense expression. Large-corporation earnings presentations only allowed a fixed number of pre-registered attendees. Major economic newspapers and broadcast journalists received priority; internet outlets like Money News were usually pushed off the list.
Whew, thank god. I barely got in.
The only reason Cho Miyeon had managed to attend this time was pure footwork. For the past several months she had diligently chased the Hanyeong IR team until she finally persuaded them.
It was her first major corporate press conference, so she found her seat with a racing heart. While opening her laptop and preparing her recorder, she felt someone sit beside her. When Cho Miyeon turned her head, a familiar face looked back.
“Oh?”
“Oh?”
“Cho Miyeon?”
“Sunbae?”
It was a senior reporter from a major economic paper—someone with a considerable reputation in the industry.
“How did you get in here? This isn’t a place just anyone can enter.”
The implication of “you’re not even on this level, so how did you get in” was completely unhidden, but Cho Miyeon smiled and fired back.
“Why? Was this reserved exclusively for sunbaes?”
When the senior’s face hardened, Cho Miyeon quickly lightened the mood.
“Aigoo, just kidding, just kidding. Of course someone of sunbae’s stature gets proper treatment, but a small fry like me had to write an entire drama script and offer a little tribute.”
She rubbed her fingers together in a money-counting gesture, and the senior’s expression relaxed into a “figures” look.
“But I’ve been seeing your name on the portal main page lately. Where’d you get that source?”
“Sorry? What source?”
“The 30 percent crash theory. Was it a government contact?”
“You know me. I’ve always been a bit of a trash personality. I just wrote what people like, and somehow it worked?”
Cho Miyeon grinned and brushed it off.
She had never expected that conspiracy-theory-style article to actually hit the main page.
Who knew the yen would really crash 30 percent.
In truth, articles like that were bad for performance. Low reader dwell time meant the portal algorithm filtered them out on its own. She had written them anyway because she needed to build a connection with Lee Jaseung.
But reality had followed the articles?
A piece that was both sensational and true—exactly the combination readers loved most. Page views exploded, and other media outlets rushed to cite her work. The result: main-page domination.
Cho Miyeon was still dazed.
No, how did he know? That was half a year ago. Did he already know it would crash 30 percent? That doesn’t make any…
…sense?
At the time, not a single person was talking about a 30 percent crash. Except for Lee Jaseung.
Until now Cho Miyeon had believed she was just spouting conspiracy theories.
But in that moment she realized a far greater truth.
This isn’t a conspiracy theory… this is the conspiracy itself!!!
※ This work is a work of fiction. All persons, groups, place names, and events appearing in the work are entirely fictional and have no connection whatsoever to anything existing in reality. Specialized knowledge described herein has also been reconstructed and adapted to fit the story and may differ from actual information.