Technical Rebound

The stock community.

A technical rebound.

It was the most basic play you could hunt for on the Korean market.

Because the institutions short the living hell out of everything.

There were always stocks in freefall. Keep sliding long enough and, sooner or later, investor sentiment dried up completely. Nobody wanted to buy a stock that only ever went down.

And once it entered oversold territory—

"Can't you see how hard this is on the shareholders? Do you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not have any human feeling at all, senior?"

"I wouldn't say none."

"If you're going to post, at least write something that gives people strength."

"If I write something encouraging, the retail investors won't cut their losses."

"Excuse me?"

—bargain hunters and short covering poured in. That sharp bounce off the bottom was what people called a technical rebound.

But as if those opportunities just fall into your lap.

If the ants were already lying in wait, the institutions had zero reason to lift the price for them. Why would they? Free charity work?

Certain conditions had to be met first.

"You write posts like these so the shareholders get miserable enough to sell."

"……."

"You could even call it an investment technique."

The stock discussion board. Officially the "Stock Discussion Room," but everyone just called it the board. Retail holders of that particular stock lived there—which made it very convenient for steering psychology.

Keep screaming that the eighth floor is coming and people get nervous.

Especially if the stock was actually falling. Some of them would decide to bail before it got worse.

And that work was bearing fruit. On the board, the hopium posters were thinning out and anxiety was spreading.

Drip. Drip.

Fat tears spilled over like chicken droppings. Sora was suddenly wringing herself dry.

"Do you have any idea how hard this is?"

"Out of nowhere?"

"When you're underwater on a stock, you can't even swallow food. Living doesn't feel like living……."

A personal anecdote. She'd clearly suffered when she got stuck in steel stocks. He knew the feeling extremely well.

What, you think I've never been through that?

Classic extrovert move: agonize over friend drama while having zero capacity to understand someone with no friends. If stocks hurt that much, what were you going to do with options? Get force-liquidated on expiration day and maybe then you'd wake up.

"Drip!"

"Ugh……."

Remember this. No lion ever frets over a deer's feelings.

"A deer's feelings?"

Those big doe eyes of hers must have made her identify as a herbivore. But the stock market was pure survival of the fittest.

Is a lion going to nibble gently just because it might hurt?

Weakness got you eaten. He hadn't committed any crime. There was no reason to feel guilty.

"Still, you don't have to leave hate comments."

"Better than a bunch of things that can't even hunt wandering around and scaring the prey off. Every stock only takes off after the ants get off first."

"……."

She clearly didn't get it—you people have to get off for the thing to leave the station!!

For now, she was still alive.

Anyway.

In the world of investing, this was nothing special. No—it was an investor's daily routine. Even more so if you became a professional. For global speculative forces, attacking was the main job description.

"An investor's basic work is skinning other people."

"Senior."

"Why the face?"

"That's a little harsh."

"So you never think about the fact that for every won you make in stocks, someone else is losing it?"

"……."

No need to look far. Korea itself had been one of the classic sacrificial lambs.

The IMF crisis. The 1997 Asian financial crisis had started when speculative forces attacked Thailand's foreign exchange market.

You couldn't do that kind of work with a soft heart.

Because of me, millions lost their jobs and the suicide rate spiked. What happens if their country collapses? Had they thought anything like that? Or had they been cackling, your country's finished, lmao?

"When you invest long enough, torching a country or two is just part of the game."

"Don't tell me you've done that?"

"……."

He wouldn't go that far. But he wasn't about to pull his punches, either.

There is an upside.

Bubble economies. If you didn't pop them in time, the aftershock later was far worse. Korea's IMF crisis had been a blessing in disguise—zombie companies vanished, the employment structure improved. Without that rupture, the country never would have developed the way it did in the twenty-first century.

"Surely not."

"Ahem!"

"Anyway, putting that aside—I came because I had something to say."

"What?"

"That site you recommended is still weird."

"……."

She scrubbed the tears off with the back of her hand and still managed to get her point across. Apparently she was still trying the site he'd pointed her to.

You don't adapt overnight.

A place that lived at a remove from common sense. Excessively crude language. Not exactly a community built for women—that much was true. But considering how many communities had no real information and nothing but bias, it wasn't unworkable. Better the side that actually helped.

"Keep at it. You'll figure something out eventually."

"And if I don't?"

"Then that's all you're cut out for."

"……."

An investor's mindset. You had to strip out the emotional parts. Your own judgment had to take absolute priority over other people's opinions.

She's too nice.

A model child. Listened to her parents, followed her teachers, never had trouble with friends. That type of person did not fit investing. There was a reason ordinary people rarely crossed paths with professional investors.

"The way people talk is one thing—"

"And?"

"There doesn't seem to be any useful information either."

Because they never left their rooms. The classic shut-in disposition.

Definitely not the extrovert type.

He wasn't talking about social outcasts. He was arguing for the necessity of thinking differently from everyone else.

"You're just not finding it."

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Honestly, it just feels like…… a dumpster."

Humans were social animals. Without realizing it, you started thinking like everyone else. You had to break free of herd psychology.

A dumpster. That's actually a perfect description.

People with that contrarian streak were everywhere in communities. Most of them classified as trash. But every so often, a useful one turned up.

And an investor's job is finding gems in the dumpster.

Good ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠companies. Stocks that would rise. The same way he was hunting a technical rebound in East Sea Steel—inside every crisis lived an opportunity. An investor didn't look away from crisis; an investor dug for the chance. And for training that discrimination, there was no better place.

"You can find truth in filthy water, you know."

"I feel like I'd only find mosquito larvae."

"Hmm."

Or maybe not.

What is this, seriously!

Questions about stocks. No one else to ask. Sora had gone to Chan-wook and come back with nothing but irritation. Not a single thing had been resolved. He just kept shoving her toward that bizarre site.

Maybe I'm so stuck in my own preconceptions that I won't even try…….

But she had nothing to lose. As strange, selfish, and unhinged as he could be, he wasn't a man who said wrong things. Sometimes he even showed a decent side. Maybe he'd genuinely recommended it because he thought she needed it.

Click. Tap.

Sora went back to the site one more time. And she worked up the courage to write a post. Maybe there would be someone decent there.

That hope was obliterated in under a minute.

Okay, fine. It really is a dumpster!

Basic respect for other people. Even on the internet, you were supposed to keep elementary manners and common sense. There was none of that here. She couldn't even tell what they were saying. She was starting to doubt whether these were the same species of Korean human being.

Is this person trying to make ASCII art?

It made no sense by any standard she knew. The one strange thing was—

—they seemed to understand each other. Every user except her was following the conversation just fine.

Is there some kind of meaning to this?

A chaotic string of characters. Maybe meaning was buried inside it. Maybe he'd recommended this site so she would figure that out.

She worked up more courage and kept exploring.

Then what are women supposed to buy?

A slightly more normal post appeared—relatively speaking. She still had no idea what any of it meant.

And then, in Sora's field of vision—

High school girl?

—someone she might actually relate to. She herself had been a high school student not long ago. Just half a year. Only about three months since graduation. The age gap wasn't large. She'd been sure they could talk.

She's insane.

Even the values Sora thought she understood were starting to shake. Value investing was supposed to mean buying undervalued stocks.

Okay. Actually insane…….

Could anyone say that after losing over fifty million won? No one in their right mind would.

After browsing the board, she had learned exactly one thing.

There were only two types of human here: psychopaths who looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠normal, and psychopaths who looked like psychopaths.

In other words—no normal people.

Every instinct told her to run. But if she backed down here, she felt like she would never reach her dream.

How am I supposed to survive in a place like this?

Sora had to stay alive.