Fifty-Thousand Electronics

Office worker Park Chang-yeol.

"Hey, Deputy Lee. You said you bought Osung Electronics, right?"

"Yeah, I did."

"I was just reading the Naver News earlier — Osung Electronics shot way up. You're buying the next round!"

He had been with the same company for seven years. His promotions were neither particularly fast nor particularly slow. He wasn't exactly scrambling for money. He managed well enough at work, and there was no strife at home.

"That's my money."

"Come on, still—"

"Did you ever help me out when I was underwater? Taking a cut when it goes up after never pitching in when it tanks — that's just shameless, isn't it?"

"…"

An ordinary life. Which also meant a life that never changed. A salaryman's annual pay was a fixed number.

God, what a cheapskate…

And Deputy Lee — his joining-class peer — had a point. Back when people were talking about getting burned and taking losses, Chang-yeol had privately congratulated himself for never touching stocks. Stocks were basically gambling, weren't they?

But the moment he heard they had gone up, a different thought took root.

Relative deprivation. Same company, same rank, roughly the same salary —

"I'm just saying we should grab some pork belly and a bottle of soju to celebrate the stock going up. It's not like I'm trying to bleed you dry."

"Well, if it's just that much…"

"Then see you after work~."

Deputy Lee had been set free from money. Free enough that, for all his sniping, he could casually treat someone to pork belly.

When am I ever ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going to put together a real nest egg?

A fox of a wife, rabbit-like kids. Supporting them cost far more than a few coins. He had cut every hobby from his bachelor days. And still, the road to owning a home of his own stretched endlessly ahead.

"That's why you've got to do stocks."

"Yeah?"

"First, pour me a shot of soju."

The occasional drink was one of life's few pleasures. He just wished life would give him a little more room to breathe.

Ah, you little shit. Make a bit of money and suddenly you're strutting around.

As promised, he was freeloading on pork belly — and in exchange, listening to his friend's stock war stories.

"You still putting money into bank savings?"

"Of course. I may not look like much, but I save steadily."

"Augh~ you idiot."

"What?"

"If I were going to deposit money, I'd just keep stacking Osung Electronics stock instead."

At first he hadn't been interested. It was a hassle, and if you got it wrong, it was dangerous. Stocks meant ruin for the whole family — the kind of thing the elders had drilled into his ears since he was a kid.

Dividends? Those were a thing?

Once a quarter, the company paid out dividends. The amount was comparable to — or better than — a savings account.

"Worst case, if Osung Electronics goes under, Korea goes under ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with it!"

"Yeah, that's fair."

"And the tech is incredible. There's a reason people joke they torture aliens for their secrets."

And on top of that, the share price itself kept rising. The principal you'd invested grew with a plus sign in front of it.

He's got a point.

The longer he listened, the more it got under his skin. Interest in stocks began to bloom, slow and creeping.

"The people who say stocks are dangerous are the ones who put money into weird companies nobody's ever heard of."

"Hmm…"

"You know Osung? You know Helji? Hell, your car's a Mirae Motors. You just keep collecting good stocks like that. You're investing in the growth of the Republic of Korea!"

He wanted to try stocks, just once. But even if you followed a friend all the way to Gangnam —

I have no idea where to start or how.

He had spent his entire life with a wall between himself and the stock market. And now he was supposed to just… start? Betting everything on a friend's word still felt like a stretch.

As Chang-yeol sat wrestling with it —

"Where do you even get the info you invest on?"

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"I watch the news, look at all kinds of stuff. But the one I trust and lean on most is Manager Yeom."

"Manager Yeom?"

That was the finishing blow. Manager Yeom — a securities analyst who appeared constantly on financial broadcasts.

So he's like an expert teacher, huh. Then he's trustworthy enough.

He made up his mind. From that day on, whenever he had free time, Chang-yeol tuned in to financial shows.

The world had gotten better — you could watch it on YouTube too. Live, even.

And then the topic he had been waiting for came up. Whether Osung Electronics could climb even higher from here.

He listened with total focus. All kinds of difficult talk poured out — semiconductors, fine process nodes, blah blah blah.

So… is he saying it goes up, or what?

From what he could roughly gather, it sounded good. Osung Electronics, without a doubt — a company you could trust and invest in.

Ohh! That's it!

The answer he wanted to hear. That was exactly what Chang-yeol had been waiting for.

He had no confidence he could buy at rock-bottom prices the way the stock experts did. But he had time on his side.

It trends up eventually, right? Buy and hold and it'll rise.

Chang-yeol opened his MTS. Conveniently, the market was open — noon. He checked the Osung Electronics share price.

It was climbing. A full thousand won higher than the 57,000 range he'd last seen.

If he didn't buy now, it would be too late. As if possessed, Chang-yeol hit the buy button.

Ah! Did I buy too rashly? Ah, whatever. It's going up anyway.

Only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠after buying did the second thoughts hit. The moment he purchased, the share price started to slip. But it was fine. The expert teacher on the broadcast had clearly said it would hit One-Hundred-Thousand Electronics. He didn't need emergency cash right now either.

With a racing heart, Chang-yeol gazed at the Osung Electronics shares he had just bought.

Star analyst.

"Thank you for the broadcast!"

"You worked hard as well, host."

"Ah, if it's not too forward — about the next broadcast schedule…"

Yeom Yu-an was the number-one booking on every financial show. Because he was the most beloved figure among countless retail investors. Easy, simple explanations. An optimistic, encouraging outlook that had won him a devoted following.

"My recent schedule is completely packed. I'm sorry I can't live up to your expectations."

"Sorry? Please! For someone at Manager Yeom's level, of course it is~. We'll look forward to the next opportunity."

The host bowed with meticulous courtesy. Yeom Yu-an returned the bow with equal care, without a shred of arrogance.

Sorry? I'm the one who should be sorry.

Thinking something slightly different underneath. On the surface, he looked like a famous man who was humble on top of it.

In the world of finance, you were not supposed to trust anyone. That obvious truth was something the retail investors never learned.

Wiiiing~!

A call came in right on cue. The time was after the market close at 3:30 — so it was almost certainly who he thought it was.

"I've taken your call, Division Chief."

Division Chief Lee Tae-ho. Ever since the last bear market, he had placed absolute trust in Yeom — because the Hankuk University broadcast Yeom had proposed had been a success. Countless retail investors had poured in.

"What is it, sir?"

After a month of decline, share prices had lifted their heads again. Looking back, it had only been a correction. Most of the retail investors who had flooded in were sitting on gains — and spreading that fact to everyone around them.

Pulling in even more retail money.

Enormous capital was flowing into the securities industry. A true peak season. And that joy — Yeom Yu-an knew perfectly well it could not last forever.

"Ah, the Nasdaq…"

"That's right. It can't be helped."

The rough timing, too. It wasn't that Korean securities firms were especially competent at reading the market.

Well. With the US-China trade dispute still going, it should have come down ages ago anyway.

There were always precursors. Foreigners kept selling. And still the share prices refused to fall. That held for a while — and then, snap. At some point the KOSPI collapsed like a waterfall.

"Investment is one's own responsibility, and yet. Truly troublesome, I have to say."

That season seemed to be arriving, bit by bit. Which was why the Division Chief was giving him the heads-up.

No wonder they've been packing my broadcast schedule so tight lately.

A bear market. Naturally unwelcome for a securities firm as well. Nobody liked selling stocks at a loss. Which was exactly why you needed an analyst — someone to sweet-talk retail investors into buying shares without limit, with plausible-sounding words.

"It's just my ordinary work. Nothing to call hardship."

That was his real job. Nobody issued the order outright — but you figured it out by watching who got promoted.

Somewhere nice, huh… Won't be long before they start calling me General Manager Yeom.

Standing on the corpses of retail investors.