Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Translation: Godtl
Establishing a new department takes far more time than one might think.
Deciding who should lead the department, and who should fill the ranks to follow that leader's orders.
There are personnel transfers to arrange, and space must be allocated for the new department.
At least the issue of space was resolved relatively quickly.
That left the matter of personnel.
"Did Jin-ho really select them like this?"
"Yes. This is the list HR received directly. Team Leader Jeong Jin-ho personally handpicked every name."
Selecting personnel is no simple task.
Because depending on who you choose, the company's performance can change.
This isn't a joke—it's the truth.
At the end of the day, investing is a human endeavor.
One person's flawed judgment can either bring a company to its knees or propel it to new heights.
Just look at Jeong Jin-ho right now—isn't that proof enough?
"Did he say anything about his selection criteria?"
"No. There were a flood of applicants, but he finalized the list on the same day."
"What about interviews?"
"They say he didn't conduct any."
This new Prime Grade department is on a completely different level from the existing ones.
For one, all accounts are unlocked.
And all investment decisions will be made by Jeong Jin-ho alone.
The authority granted to him is so immense that even executives—excluding the CEO—cannot interfere with his decisions.
It's truly an unprecedented personnel decision in the history of Gwangun Securities.
But to lead a department effectively, he needs capable members.
Elites who can provide sound investment advice must stand by his side.
Yet, looking at the members he's chosen, one can't help but tilt their head in confusion.
"Is there some kind of standard he's using?"
"I'm not sure about that either. What's certain is that he didn't pick them based on visible credentials."
By conventional standards, these people wouldn't even come close to Elite, let alone Prime.
"How many members are in Jin-ho's department now?"
"Twenty. Including Team Leader Jeong Jin-ho—no, I suppose he's a department head now. Including Department Head Jeong, it's twenty-one."
Combined with the existing members, that makes a total of twenty.
He even picked the number neatly.
Is there some reason behind this too?
"By the way, CEO Hwang. How much are you planning to allocate to Department Head Jeong's team...?"
"500 billion."
The immediate answer suggested he had already settled on the amount.
"After running the numbers, it's the sum we can gather by recalling scattered investments here and there. Jin-ho's currently managing around 300 billion, so we'll just scrape together an additional 200 billion for him."
Prop trading ultimately operates with company funds.
Meaning, it doesn't use clients' money.
Because of this, there was no idle cash lying around in the company.
Every bit was either tied up somewhere or being utilized by other teams to generate returns.
But with the market volatility since the nickel incident, the company's funds were inevitably affected.
Even so, CEO Hwang had gathered every available penny and handed it over to Jeong Jin-ho.
If Jin-ho were to lose that amount, the blow would be catastrophic.
Yet, CEO Hwang was showing even greater trust by increasing the allocation.
"500 billion... That's nearly half of our company's net worth, isn't it?"
"If you exclude AUM, yes. We're only counting the net assets the company holds directly. But wasn't it Jin-ho who turned 50 billion into 300 billion? We're just adding a little more on top of that."
Currently, KS Securities, the top firm in South Korea, manages a net worth of 10 trillion won.
But AUM—Assets Under Management.
In other words, when you include clients' money deposited with the securities firm, the asset scale balloons.
Looking only at corporate net worth, it might seem easy to catch up, but the real moneymaker wasn't the securities firm itself.
It was the asset management company tied to KS Financial Group alongside the securities firm.
They were commonly referred to as fund management companies.
Currently, KS Asset Management handled a staggering scale of over 100 trillion won.
Through overseas expansion and ETF business growth, they were continuously increasing that scale.
"You know what I always tell the executives, right? That one day, we'll grow into a conglomerate managing funds worth tens of trillions."
CEO Hwang Dae-un also dreamed that Gwangun Securities would develop into a conglomerate managing nearly 100 trillion won in assets, just like the so-called "Big Three" financial groups out there.
But funds ultimately require an influx of customers' money.
In the battle against the firmly established Big Three financial groups, there was simply no way to win.
Everyone only wanted brand-name funds—no one trusted funds from mid-tier companies.
Faced with this insurmountable wall of reality, CEO Hwang had no choice but to restructure the asset management division and focus solely on the securities business.
Even now, the memory of that time left a bitter taste.
"Someday, our Gwangun will grow into a conglomerate too. The day will surely come when we manage funds worth tens of trillions."
"Yeah. But lately, I've been thinking—what if Jin-ho is the one to start that?"
"Wow. So you're saying Manager Jeong might even become the company president someday?"
Of course, for now, it was still closer to a pipe dream than anything tangible.
"Oh, right. About that car I told you to get last time—"
"Yes. I actually already picked out a corporate vehicle. A really nice model too."
"Good. It's fine if it's even better than mine. Make sure it's the safest option possible—one that minimizes injuries in case of an accident. Our Jin-ho is more important than you or me, after all."
This was Jeong Jin-ho, who brought in billions, not hundreds of millions.
Naturally, he was the most important figure in the company—more so than anyone else.
"Assign him a personal driver too. Provide whatever support he needs. While I'm away in the Middle East, you, as vice president, need to take good care of him."
"Understood. I'll make sure of it."
People often described Gwangun Securities like this:
A company with a solid foundation but a capped ceiling.
Yet CEO Hwang instinctively sensed it—
That the ceiling, which had been firmly in place all this time, was now poised to break through the skies.
All centered around Jin-ho.
"Ah, but CEO—come to think of it, payday is coming up soon. Manager Jeong's performance bonus is going to be massive, right? From the existing amount, I mean. So to fill that 5 trillion won, you might need to pull in more funds..."
"Ah, right."
CEO Hwang slapped his forehead.
Where was he supposed to get another few hundred billion from?
＊＊＊
The game I played could be described as raid-centric.
And there were large raid parties racing to achieve world-first clears of newly released raids.
The world's top-ranked raid party even rented out an entire building to livestream their attempts, spending days trying to clear it.
These elite parties shared one thing in common with regular ones:
They always recruited far more people than necessary.
The harder the raid, the longer it took—sometimes days—but even otherwise, raid leaders had to coordinate dozens of members to schedule attempts, and no-shows were frequent.
That was why they kept substitutes on standby.
But what if even the substitutes couldn't make it?
What if real-life issues forced someone to leave mid-raid?
For that, they even prepared substitutes for the substitutes.
"Maybe we should've recruited more people."
The new department would soon be fully established.
I'd heard the remodeling was already complete, and equipment setup was in its final stages.
A department capable of entering all markets—from FX to everything else.
The only all-ground department in the entire company.
"But something feels off..."
While it seemed like more personnel might be needed, this might actually be the perfect balance.
At least, that's what my intuition suggested.
So I was brainstorming how to best allocate and manage this team.
"Team Leader~ You have been taking the nutritional supplements I gave you last time, right?"
"Ah, right."
"Sigh. I knew you'd say that, so I brought you some water."
Somehow, the Assistant Manager was looking after my health more than I was.
"Everyone must be bored since there's not much to do. How's the atmosphere?"
"Honestly, how great is it to just laze around at work with nothing to do? Plus, with almost no market volatility, we even got to take a few days off, didn't we?"
Due to weakened investor sentiment, the global markets themselves had almost no volatility right now.
So our team just took a few days off.
Being able to rest whenever you want is one of the perks of being a prop trader, you could say.
"And today is a very, very important day, isn't it?"
"The department transfer?"
"No. Something even more important than that!"
"Ah. Payday?"
"Yes! Payday—the lifeblood of office workers! That's why everyone's all giddy and excited."
That's also why the company had reclaimed our funds earlier.
They needed to settle the accounts according to each person's profit rate.
"Team Leader, aren't you happy about it?"
"Of course I am."
Payday.
The reason office workers keep going.
But for me, there was something I was looking forward to even more than payday.
'When can I start investing again?'
Am I really that much of a dopamine junkie?
I already knew this month's performance bonus would be astronomical.
So while I should be eagerly waiting for my paycheck to come in, what I really wanted more than anything was to transfer departments as soon as possible and start investing again.
'The CEO said he'd push it to 500 billion, even if it meant stretching things.'
A whopping 500 billion—just the amount I'd be able to play with.
Even the thought of it sent adrenaline rushing through me, my hands trembling at the sheer amount.
It's not a sum you can casually throw around in the domestic stock market, but in other markets, it's possible.
Our department's core isn't long-term investments based on company valuations, but the dopamine-exploding thrill of day trading, isn't it?
That's why I was counting down the days until I could finally put that capital to work.
"But Team Leader, what do you want to do once you get this month's performance bonus? Yours is going to be huge this time."
"Hmm. Well, I..."
Buy my younger sibling and parents a car.
Get them a new house.
Pay off any debts they have.
Listing it all out, everything was for my family.
Ah. There is one more thing that comes to mind.
This is more of a long-held fantasy, you could say.
Buy a building, model it after the game I'm currently into, and turn it into a PC bang where dozens of raid members can play together.
Fill the floors above and below with restaurants, pool halls, karaoke rooms—all kinds of entertainment facilities.
A landmark just for me and my guildmates, you might say.
After work, everyone would gather there.
It's the kind of fantasy any hardcore gamer has dreamed of at least once.
"Judging by your expression, you must be planning something huge."
"Well... yeah."
Hobbies are important, after all.
"Then if there's any unexpected market volatility or other issues, I'll report them right away."
"Sure. Thanks."
After the Assistant Manager left, I checked my screen again.
Still no significant developments.
Even the FX market—the first one we'd dive into after the department transfer—was in a dire state, with average daily volatility barely hitting 0.5%.
Ding~!
Just then, my phone notification went off.
"Wooaaah—!"
As if they'd been waiting for it, a massive cheer erupted from outside.
It was the voices of my team members.
Hearing that, I knew instantly.
"The paycheck came in."
I followed the bank app notification and opened it.
I'd already roughly calculated how much would be deposited, but...
Actually seeing the number made my palms start sweating.
Finally, the deposited amount appeared in digits.
[75,571,157,314 KRW.]
It was over 7.5 billion won.
"Holy shit—."
"Good afternoon, everyone! I look forward to working with you all!!"
One by one, the people selected for the Prime Grade department began gathering in the office.
"Ah, I honestly never thought I'd get picked for this. I just applied because everyone else was doing it..."
"Same here. I have no idea what the department head saw in me, but I swear I'll devote myself completely."
The energy was electric.
Since most hadn't expected to be chosen for this department, they all seemed dazed yet brimming with boundless loyalty toward the department head.
"Is everyone here? Please take your assigned seats. The equipment should be mostly familiar with just a few additions, so you shouldn't have any trouble using them."
"Ah, Team Leader—no, Department Head. About ten people still haven't arrived yet?"
"Ah, they'll be coming in later tonight."
"Pardon?"
Coming in at night?
What did that mean?
"We're short on time, so let's keep introductions brief. Everyone, please gather materials and prepare for the meeting. Today we'll be focusing on FX for our capital deployment, so compile anything relevant to that. Oh, and starting today, the total funds we'll be managing amount to 500 billion won."
"!?"
500 billion.
This was the largest capital operation in Gwangun Securities history.
The department members swallowed dryly.
"The meeting starts in thirty minutes."
"Yes, sir!"
The meeting itself was nothing special.
The market was frozen, volatility was nearly nonexistent, and no one knew how long this would last.
The newcomers at least made an effort to contribute ideas, though they were fairly standard—you could tell they'd prepared earnestly to be helpful.
"Then let's begin."
After the meeting concluded, the real investing began.
But the screens looked completely different from usual.
Since this was the FX exchange, the interface itself was unfamiliar.
The FX exchange.
The world's largest foreign exchange market, operating 24/7.
While perfectly capable of handling the massive 500 billion won, the problem was that forex volatility was already low under normal circumstances—and now it was even worse.
Of course, even a 1% daily return on 500 billion would net 5 billion, so the scale was different, but the flip side was that losing just 1% meant vanishing 5 billion.
They'd stepped into a nerve-wracking gambling den for the first time.
"Assistant Manager, please take a position in dollars first. The amount... about 120 billion."
"Ah, yes!"
Without any time to adjust, the orders came rapid-fire.
Starting with Lee Hye-rin, each was assigned a currency and told to deploy a set amount of capital.
"Are you... planning to hold like this?"
No. That couldn't be.
The Jeong Jin-ho she'd observed so far wasn't the type to hold positions long unless circumstances demanded it.
Sure enough.
"Assistant Manager. Sell."
"Yes, sir!"
The atmosphere in the department was peculiar.
The only sounds were Department Head Jeong Jin-ho's commands and the employees' sharp "Yes, sir!" responses.
"..."
How much time had passed like this?
Despite the office air conditioning, the sweat on their palms wouldn't dry.
Every nerve was taut, focused entirely on Department Head Jeong's voice.
Was the trading going well?
How much profit had they made?
The details were unclear, but one thing was certain:
Right now, Department Head Jeong was wringing water from a bone-dry rag.
In this market with virtually no volatility!
"Ah, hello."
Just then, the ten new members who were supposed to arrive in the evening entered the department looking bewildered.
Department Head Jeong Jin-ho greeted them with a radiant smile.
"Welcome, everyone. Please take your seats and prepare for trading. The rest of you can start wrapping up for the day. You've all worked very hard today."
"Ah, yes."
They glanced at the exhausted members and tilted their heads in confusion.
But soon they'd understand too.
'So this is why the other members were scheduled for night shifts.'
To run this insane wringing-of-dry-rag operation in two shifts!
'Then when does the department head ever rest?'
Lee Hye-rin stole a glance at Department Head Jeong's face.
While the other members looked half-dead,
"..."
Department Head Jeong Jin-ho's face was more vibrant than she'd ever seen it.