The Market's Weakest

The ant investor.

.

.

.

The weakest creatures in the stock market. People usually see them as pathetic beings who only lose money out there.

Not every ant only loses. I am different. I do not just drift with the current.

Is Donghae the only steel stock out there? Plenty of companies produce steel. You just find the ones that have not risen yet.

When it comes to color steel sheet, Donghae is the one everyone knows. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Brazil CSP finished construction a year ago, so once it really hits its stride I figure it can double the previous high, easy.

And then the catalysts. Beyond the known information, you dig up other reasons the price has to rise. It has no choice but to go up. This company must rise.

But the source that fed you that information in the first place—

Institutions. The analysts who appear on economic channels and YouTube all belong to those same institutions. They receive the reports long before the information ever reaches the ears of ordinary viewers. No—far more refined information than that.

…….

The investment idea you thought you had painstakingly uncovered had actually been fully analyzed ages ago and was already priced into the stock. They also know the future bad news. The reasons this company will never rise. The individual investor who does not know any of that can only stamp their feet in place.

Clap!

Sora forced a bright expression onto her face. She clapped her hands hard, trying to change her mood.

Sitting here with a scrunched-up face isn't going to make the stock go up.

Better to recover her stamina at least. Rationally speaking, that was clearly the correct judgment.

"Hmm-hmm~♪"

She hummed a little tune while brewing coffee. Drip coffee. One of the things she had always wanted to do once she graduated, got a job, and achieved financial freedom. It did not actually cost that much money, did it? She had bought cheap gear and carefully selected well-reviewed beans.

Trickle~

One cup, carefully brewed. The rich, nutty aroma of the beans should have tickled her nose.

Chirp! Chirp!

On a morning filled with sparrowsong she savored the leisure of a single cup of coffee. It was exactly the kind of scene she had always wanted for her life.

…….

She could not taste a thing. Even if someone told her it was water steeped with pencil lead she would have believed them right now. Because it tasted bad? No. Her sense of taste simply refused to function. This was the first time emotion had ever produced a physical abnormality in her body.

Please, please…….

The hand holding the coffee cup trembled violently. Only after a few drops of the contents splashed out did she realize what was happening.

Thud!

She set it down on the computer desk. She had told herself she was taking a break, but in truth there was not a shred of leisure in her.

Why do they keep selling and selling? If you dump it that cheap you're losing money too.

Her eyes stayed locked on the monitor. The order book. The real-time flow of stock trades.

Yeah, about time they start shooting it up!

Hopeful news arrived. The stock that had fallen 2% clawed back 1%. The start of a trend reversal. Clearly they had shaken out the ants once and were about to climb again.

Foreigners get it. They know this is a good stock.

Already underwater, Sora had no choice but to spin her hope circuit. She clung to that hope—

—and that hope was pulverized.

Enemy double kill!

After going through that cycle several times in a row, even the sturdiest mental fortitude begins to crack. Inside Sora's head—

…….

—everything was pure white. She could only stare blankly at the monitor. She could not move her fingers. Why? Rationally she should be reducing her position right now, doing this and that—

Every time she cut her losses and watched the account melt, she simply could not do it. Wasn't staying still the path that lost less money?

I want to die.

Trader. The profession of investing. It sat at the very top even among white-collar jobs. Minimum labor for maximum money. All with a single eye that could see a company's future value.

I don't know anymore.

Heaven and hell were separated by a single sheet of paper. Where there were people who made money, there were inevitably people who lost it. She could end up on the losing side. Hugging her knees, Sora chewed over a fact that perhaps should have been obvious all along.

Even in this very moment her account was melting. Sometimes it would flash a brief recovery. Even so, it remained infinitely far from her principal. A corner of her chest felt so heavy she could barely breathe.

Gurgle~!

But the body was honest. No matter how miserable you felt, no matter how foul your mood, a human being still had to eat to live.

Maybe I should just have a cup ramen.

She had no money. She had no right. After losing money in stocks, how dare she grease her stomach with oil? As a form of self-punishment she had chosen cup ramen. Even so, when they piled up this high—

…….

—there had been neither time nor energy to clean. In one corner of the desk, finished cup ramen containers sat stacked on top of each other. In front of the bathroom, laundry had piled up. The sink was full of unwashed dishes.

Ah.

And her own reflection in the mirror. She looked filthy from not washing for days. Greasy hair and sunken eyes ringed with dark circles. Pathetic. She was neither a shut-in nor a hikikomori, yet here she was living in this ruined room looking like this.

What the hell am I even doing.

Even more shocking was the fact that she had not noticed any of it until just now. That was how completely her mind had been elsewhere. The life of a trader she had dreamed of—had it always been this precarious, like walking along a rooftop railing?

Just this once, if I can just get through this once…….

Study a little more. Prepare a little more thoroughly. Being a trader really was not an easy profession. It was not as if she had invested in a company that would never rise. It would give her an exit opportunity at least once. From that point she would come to her senses and recover.

Hope circuit.

But reality—

—was not kind enough to hand ants the price they wanted. The buy wall collapsed in a cascade.

Gulp!

But it was not over yet. If she put in additional capital she might still be able to aim for a reversal.

This is money I absolutely cannot lose…….

Of course risk came with it. Everything she had spent so far had been spare cash. New Year's money, money saved from part-time jobs, allowance from her parents.

What she was touching now was different. She was dipping into the money she had received early for first-semester rent and living expenses.

I'll recover it and fill the hole. Recover it.

And if she lost it? Her immediate daily life would be disrupted. She might even have to borrow her parents' hands. Fear. Even as her hands shook violently, Sora moved the money from her bank account into her securities account. Because she could just fill it back in. Stocks did not fall forever without end.

This level is oversold territory. Average down and escape when it rises.

"Averaging down." An investment method where, when a stock has fallen excessively, you buy more to lower your average cost.

It had only gone down for the past few days. If it rebounded from here she could recover the account. She did not even need to get back to principal. If it just came roughly close she would cut her losses and never look at stocks again.

Trader…… can I even do this.

The conviction she had held. The judgment she had reached after gathering countless materials and agonizing for days. But did making the correct judgment mean the stock price would rise? Right now she simply could not know.

All she could do was wait endlessly.

The assignment was progressing reasonably well.

Eh, this much is nothing.

What I was actually looking forward to was three months from now. The professors had it out for me, so my grades were honestly a bit shaky. Skill. If I could be evaluated on my specialty, nothing could be better. I also wanted to land one solid hit on that Water Rocket professor.

"Sora's gone completely dark?"

Something else had come up. Hye-ri was looking at me with what seemed like an angry face, practically interrogating me.

"She didn't even show up for this week's lecture."

"Did she skip the assignment too?"

"She sent the assignment. But she's not answering any other messages."

It was nothing major.

When a woman makes an angry face, she's usually not actually angry.

Personal circumstances. Perfectly possible. But as a friend, of course she was worried.

"Maybe she just doesn't want to get mixed up with you, oppa?"

"……."

"Of all people, ending up in the same group."

"You're doing this too?"

They could pin every kind of blame. According to the female students' brain-fanfiction, maybe she was not coming to school because of me.

She also kind of looks like she wants us to make up.

Hye-ri and Suhyun. While doing the group project we had gotten reasonably close. They had also received a lot of academic help from me. But they were best friends with Sora, who was my sworn enemy. Being stuck between both sides was uncomfortable—I understood that much.

"Maybe she just got a boyfriend."

"A boyfriend!"

"Sora?"

"When people get their first boyfriend in college they usually just suck face all day."

"……."

If she herself did not want to come, what could you do? If I had any sin, it was only that I had dug up the truth and nothing else.

Korean society has way too much resistance to the truth.

After hearing me out they decided they could not go themselves. I got stuck with the chore of going to check on Sora in their place.

"Anyone home?"

And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠while I was at it, make peace, I supposed. If she really was doing that kind of thing it would also be awkward.

Knock. Knock.

I arrived at the address Hye-ri had written down. I had been nervous the whole way over in case it was a family home.

She lives in a nice place.

Thankfully it seemed to be a studio. Two-room. Not an officetel, but the location was good and the building was clean.

Get the fuck out here, you bitch!

Did her parents being well-off make her this spoiled? I rang the doorbell and even knocked, but she would not come out. I had deliberately modulated my voice to sound like a female friend, too. I did not have time to burn, so I was just about to turn around when—

Creeeak—!

The door opened very carefully. No—heavily. As if the person pushing it were some kind of invalid.

"Who is it……?"

"It's me."

"Uh. Uh?! Why are you……."

She slammed the door shut as if she had seen someone she should never see. I had already planted my foot for exactly that reason.

"Open it."

"W-what are you doing all of a sudden!"

"You're going to open it eventually anyway."

There was no way she could beat a man with raw strength. Or so I thought—until her chest turned out to be some kind of power engine.

Damn, she's stubborn.

I eased off the pressure once. Then, the moment she let her guard down, I put force into both foot and hand at the same time.

"Kyaa!"

I shoved. So open the door when I'm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠asking nicely. She went sprawling across the entryway floor. Reaped what she sowed. I had clearly warned her, so there was nothing to feel sorry about.

"What a goddamn mess."

"D-don't come in, I said. I'll call the police!"

"You sure you want to do that? Looking like this?"

"……."

There was one more reason that threat worked. The interior I saw when I opened the door. It was a garbage dump, pure and simple. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The homeowner herself looked like she had rolled around on top of it a few times—filthy and disheveled.

People live a little dirtier at home? An ordinary person would stop thinking right there.

Yeah, life is the real deal, you titty girl.

Anyone who played the stock market could guess exactly what had happened.