Compressed Real-Money Stock Education

A loss that had plunged as deep as −30%.

In a single hour, it had been restored to near perfection.

Is this guy actually insane?

But the bad blood remained. Sora's hatred for Chanuk had maxed out; she couldn't bring herself to think of him kindly.

Everything that had just happened was pure coincidence. He'd simply bought a good stock at a price that had already fallen, so of course it rose.

Tap. Click!

The trade history. She examined how Chanuk had bought and sold.

Wait—he used margin? On MY account??

She was speechless.

Margin. And unsettled credit. He'd gambled with someone else's money, pure and simple. If it had failed, the fallout wouldn't have been ordinary.

……

But the result proved everything. Chanuk's trades had succeeded.

Her own trades, on the other hand—trades she'd believed were safe, certain investments—

Bzzzt~!

Her thoughts short-circuited. The sudden vibration of her phone snapped Sora back to reality.

"Dad?"

It was her father. An executive director at a securities firm, with a trader's career behind him. That was why she'd asked—not out of anything underhanded, but to shore up her confidence in the investment.

"Yes. What is it?"

Back then, he'd clearly said it was fine. As long as you didn't get greedy, it wasn't a sector to lose sleep over.

……

The story had changed. The global situation was drifting off the original forecast.

"No, Dad. Thank you."

She still couldn't grasp all of it. That was exactly why she was proud of a father who worked in such a difficult world.

So that's what was going on.

There had been information she didn't know. The stock had fallen for reasons that made sense.

"……."

She hadn't known. She hadn't even known such things existed. Her field of vision—she was realizing just how shallow and pitiful it had been.

"I'm fine, Dad. I was just interested, that's all."

Before she took a wound she couldn't take back. Sora forced a bitter smile and changed the subject.

"Dad."

"Not me……. It's a trade record from someone I know."

Pride. If Chanuk's trades had been pure luck—

……Then I don't have to be all that grateful.

She was the one who'd carried the risk, after all. She'd been hoping for a negative answer.

"Paper trading……, I don't think so."

Even through the phone, the emotion came through. Surprise. His trading wasn't something luck alone could produce.

"What's an Illicit Stock Manipulator?"

"Okay."

She already knew—she'd watched from right behind him. He had precisely captured the moments the price fell and the moments it rose. The more her father talked, the more the praise piled up. Not once, but three successful hits; coincidence was starting to look stranger than skill.

"……."

"Ah;; well, that is……."

She'd known. She hadn't wanted to admit it. But after hearing all of this—

Tap!

Sora trailed off into incoherent mumbling and hung up on her father. There was no way in hell she could tell him it was her own account.

Don't fall in love with a stock.

That bastard's voice floated up. So did the outrageous things that had just happened. Unbelievably ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rude. A human being who seemed to possess neither manners nor common sense.

……

But he hadn't said anything wrong. She was the one who'd been drowning in confirmation bias.

"Steel stocks dropped again."

"Sora, didn't you say you bought steel?"

"Oh crap, sorry!"

"Ah, yeah, you did."

The next morning. When she finally showed up in the lecture hall after a long absence, her friends greeted her warmly. She'd been skipping class. They hadn't failed to guess why.

Tap, tap!

For the friends who'd been worrying, she showed them. Her account, changed over the past ten days.

"Whoa! You made money?"

"How did you pull a profit in a down market?"

"As expected of our future trader!"

"Yeah……, it was a bit rough, though."

Truth is, I didn't do it…….

Her conscience twinged, but saying it straight felt wrong somehow. That she'd been underwater and holed up in her room. And that the person who'd bailed her out was Chanuk—the senior she'd hated like a sworn enemy.

"But what about Senior Chanuk?"

"Huh?"

"I've never heard you call him 'Senior' before."

"W-well."

If she'd kept diamond-handing? She might never have gotten an exit at all. Forget looking cool in front of her friends—she wouldn't have been able to swallow a single bite of food.

.

.

.

She'd have been wallowing in self-pity just like the people on the stock discussion board. When she thought about the fact that millions of won had been on the line—

Gulp.

A chill ran through her. Sora could only stare at her phone screen with a queasy look.

"I still finished the assignment, though!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Well……, that oppa was so half-assed I had to finish it myself."

"Disappointing."

She didn't know for sure, but some of it was probably her fault. Helping her had burned his entire morning.

……And I slapped him too.

It was absurd. The first time anything like that had ever happened to her. She wanted to crack open her own skull and dig around inside. What she'd felt the first time she saw him had been right.

A lunatic. There wasn't a lunatic in the world like that lunatic.

"Oh—it's Senior Chanuk!"

"Solo-diner."

"Ah……, Sora hates him. Sorry."

The campus cafeteria. He was eating lunch alone. Her friends glanced at her for cues. Things between them were bad, after all. That much was true. If she ran into him, she wanted to hit him one more time.

I want to know.

But curiosity won out. A lunatic like that might actually know. What kind of mistake she'd made. How she could get closer to that world.

"Hey!"

"No. No."

Her friends startled as Sora strode off. Suhyun caught Hye-ri's wrist before she could intervene. She wasn't going over there to pick a fight. She still couldn't admit it, and he was still an irritating bastard, but—

"Why are you eating alone? If you said something, people ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠might eat with you."

The back of the senior she'd only ever found strange was starting to look a little different.

A mistake. But it was also true that he hadn't had much choice.

I felt weird taking a free meal, so I offered to pay—did I lowball it too hard?

A fresh college girl was expensive. On the actual black market, they traded for at least nine figures. A freshman, no less. High quality, too. No sign of any nightlife industry experience. Depending on the big players' bidding, a serious premium would attach. A hundred, two hundred thousand wouldn't even cover the tip of it.

How did she even know the market rate?

Unfortunately, he couldn't afford it in his current state. He was still mulling it over when—

"Why are you eating alone? If you said something, people might eat with you."

The Pokémon Trainer approached. A failed transaction. He'd assumed she'd left unsatisfied with the price to find another buyer.

Is there still room to haggle?

His eyes snagged on those long legs. The hips filled out full and round. She flaunted the fact that she was a rare ace. Not barefaced like last time, either. Makeup so light it looked like she was barely wearing any—natural, and better for it.

"What."

"Don't get the wrong idea. I just came over because you looked pathetic."

"So why!"

Name your price, then. Even if the final retail price is high, you should cut a local a deal.

With K-pop and the Korean Wave booming, Korean ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠women were getting premium treatment. Supply and demand. There's such a thing as Korean hospitality, you know. Acting like a traditional market vendor—pretending to give a discount while still collecting every last won—what was that about?

Her business, however, wasn't that. Her face flushed red. Looking closer, her cheeks were even slightly puffed out. What was she, a little kid?

Ah. She is a little kid.

That body built to bewitch men had made him forget. Twenty years old. Still an age with plenty left to shed, and plenty left to learn.

"Fight! Fight!"

"We're not fighting."

"You totally fought."

"What happened between you two? Oh, wait—don't tell me!"

Hye-ri and Suhyun were there too. Campus-cafeteria age. Apparently they'd come for lunch.

Cafeteria food's good, though.

Their school did a pretty solid job of it. He'd heard it had gone downhill into rip-off territory after 2020, but at least at this point in time, it held up.

"A confession?"

"That's it."

"It is not."

"Ah, busted."

""Kyaaa~!""

Plenty of students around. A fair number seemed to be eavesdropping on their table.

Of course she's famous.

A machine like her walking around—how could anyone not notice? Seniors probably all knew who she was, whether they wanted to or not.

"Stop making things up!"

"I didn't make anything up."

"No……, that wasn't what we were talking about."

"Sure it was. First love."

"Ah!"

Who the hell ends up with a girl like this?

Any guy would be curious. And there were always girls who loved a good backchannel gossip session.

"Love?"

"Sora?"

"I gave her a little counseling, that's all. Counseling."

"Sounds like a lie."

"It's real."

Eyes around them locked on. Hye-ri and Suhyun seemed plenty interested too, pressing for more.

"What kind of counseling?"

"Ah, am I even allowed to say this?"

"Hurry, hurry!"

"Turns out she's the clingy type. She was hanging onto her first love."

""Kyaaa~!!""

They were dying of delight. It was stock talk, not real love—but saying that out loud would set her off.

She's got one hell of a temper.

In all his life, he'd never met a girl who grabbed him by the throat and spewed dual-channel curses. Her head didn't seem slow, though. She seemed to understand, fidgeting and reading the room.

"Is Oppa running as the candidate after first love, by any chance?"

"That's it."

"It is not!"

"Please take good care of our Sora!"

""Hahaha!""

They probably weren't taking it seriously either. They just wanted the two of them to make up. A wink, and they fled.

The Pokémon Trainer, who'd been about to grab Hye-ri's group, paused for a moment.

"So?"

"Huh?"

"Did you break up? Did you tell your first love goodbye?"

"……Yes."

Stock talk. Falling in love with a ticker was something every stock investor did at least once.

Sometimes taking the loss is better.

Better than getting lucky, making a little, and then losing big next time. What mattered was what you'd gained.

"The lingering feelings for a first love don't shake off easily, though~."

"Would you stop!"

"Hm?"

"Love, stop saying love. People around us……, they're staring."

With stocks—with investing—what mattered wasn't how much you'd made right now. The strongest person in the market was—

The one who survived.

No matter how much you made, you could lose it in an instant. That was why you needed the process of building a carefully constructed tower.

"I want to know."

"Se—"

"Hey."

"Ah. Stocks."

She might just have taken that first step.