Chapter 44
Chapter 44
Translation: Godtl
"Looks like Kangsung Electronics is doing well. The stock price keeps rising."
"They're about to hit record-breaking sales, aren't they? The K7 is selling like crazy."
Kangsung Electronics' stock price had surpassed 1.7 million won.
For retail investors, buying such a large-cap stock was somewhat burdensome.
Yet, the price kept getting pumped up relentlessly.
This wasn't the kind of rise you'd see from simple good news.
"Actually, it seems like the hunters are gathering right now."
"Hunters?"
"Yes. Rumor has it that some force has placed a massive short position on Kangsung Electronics. Hearing that, overseas hunters are flocking in."
"Tch. Whoever it is, their position's been exposed."
The reason Kangsung Electronics' stock price was so high wasn't just because it was Korea's top-performing company—it also had a high institutional and foreign ownership ratio.
Foreign investors alone accounted for a whopping 50%.
Surprisingly, the proportion of domestic retail investors was very low.
The price was too high, and the volatility wasn't significant enough.
But now, a fire had been lit under it.
Hunters usually referred to foreign investors.
Overseas investment firms roamed from country to country, looking to squeeze short-sellers dry.
And someone had just thrown them fresh prey.
The word was spreading that someone was trying to take down Kangsung Electronics just as it was about to hit its peak.
"So that's why the price is skyrocketing? Just how big is this short position?"
"It's definitely an enormous scale. Normally, to short a stock, you have to sell borrowed shares first, right? Institutions suddenly flooded the market with supply, which briefly drove prices down, but then the hunters who heard the rumors rushed in and sent the price soaring like crazy."
Usually, when short positions are unwound, prices should drop.
But instead, they were rising.
The short-sellers kept dumping shares, while the hunters who'd caught wind of it were pumping the stock even harder to squeeze them to death.
"Whoever it is, they're completely fucked."
"Yeah. They're in deep trouble..."
President Hwang tilted his head as he watched Executive Director Tak let out a heavy sigh.
"But why do you look so concerned? It's not like we're the ones shorting it."
"..."
"Director Tak?"
Then it hit President Hwang.
"Director Tak. D-don't tell me we're—"
"President. Please stay calm. The short position that's been exposed... it's ours."
His heart plummeted.
"Did Jin-ho do this?"
"Yes. I only found out after receiving the report. Just like last time, he borrowed shares through prime brokers via securities lending."
"How much has he put in?"
"Since continuous price increases would be problematic, he seems to have spread out the sales. He's planning to short up to 1 trillion won. The remaining capital will have to cover the margin."
Shorting hundreds of billions in Korea is extremely difficult.
But with a company as big as Kangsung Electronics, it's possible.
After all, it's the largest corporation in the country, with a market cap exceeding 270 trillion won.
But 1 trillion won?!
There was that one time during the securities firm price manipulation scandal when 3 trillion won was dumped right before market close, but...
Taking a 1 trillion won short position would be unprecedented in KOSPI history.
"And Kangsung Electronics is performing this well right now?"
"Yes. Should we try to stop it now? He probably hasn't dumped the full trillion yet."
Masked investment.
A technique where shares are borrowed through multiple institutions and funds to conceal the investor's identity.
Even in Germany, Jin-ho had used this method to clean out the market flawlessly.
While this approach carried the risk of exposure, it made tracking his true identity nearly impossible.
All transactions were conducted anonymously through brokers.
If there hadn't been such safeguards in place, President Hwang would've stepped in immediately.
But right now, with Kangsung Electronics thriving...
And with the trades being conducted through securities lending to keep Gwangun Securities' name out of it...
"If the stock price keeps rising like this, they'll demand additional margin. And if it exceeds that limit, it'll trigger a margin call. The entire trillion won we worked so hard to earn could vanish in an instant. If it stops there, we'll be lucky. But if the price keeps climbing, even our firm could..."
Executive Director Tak swallowed dryly.
If it were the usual Jeong Jin-ho, he wouldn't have cared what kind of investment it was.
Just as President Hwang said, he'd have been better off not interfering—lest he end up meddling out of unnecessary worry.
He had tried his best to ignore it, but this was something he simply couldn't turn a blind eye to.
If it were just about losing the investment funds Jin-ho had earned so far, it wouldn't matter. But if this escalated, the entire company could go under.
This was why short squeezes were terrifying.
When market players banded together with the intent to corner someone, the risks were so high that an entire company could go bankrupt.
"President Hwang. That's why we should liquidate our positions now—"
"No. Didn't you say the money's already in? Exiting now would still incur massive losses. And have you forgotten our rules?"
First rule: Never doubt Jin-ho when it comes to investments.
Second rule: Follow the first rule.
"But this is—!"
"Enough. The arrow has already left our hands."
President Hwang picked up the coffee cup in front of him as he spoke.
"I choose to trust Jin-ho."
"..."
But perhaps the body couldn't lie.
Clatter—
The coffee inside spilled out completely due to his trembling hands.
＊＊＊
People often called Kangsung Electronics a "national stock," but in reality, it might as well have been considered a foreign stock given how low the domestic ownership ratio was.
Even among institutional investors—including the national pension fund—foreign institutions overwhelmingly held more shares than domestic ones.
Whiterock was one of them.
As the world's largest asset management firm with assets under management reaching a staggering 7,000 trillion won, Whiterock held stakes in nearly every major global corporation, including Kangsung Electronics.
It was from them—along with other institutions and overseas investment funds—that we had borrowed shares bit by bit through brokers to establish our short positions.
As the saying goes, many a little makes a mickle.
The accumulated shares amounted to a staggering 1 trillion won.
Yet, when considering Kangsung Electronics' total market cap, 1 trillion won was a mere 0.37%.
It was hard to believe this was a domestic company—such was the scale of this conglomerate.
But no matter how small the percentage, establishing a 1 trillion won position still took time.
"Chief, everything's been sold."
Yet the trades executed far faster than I'd anticipated.
The shares we released for short selling were snapped up in an instant.
"The rumors must be true. They say overseas players are gathering like vultures, preparing to tear into it..."
"What do we do? Isn't it already too late to turn back?"
The foreign "big brothers" were charging in like a cavalry, flooding into our domestic stock market.
Their goal was singular:
To sweep their target clean in one fell swoop.
Every time a large position was exposed, this death legion would swarm in, and our department had become their target. If their storm of hooves came crashing down, we'd never withstand the sheer volume.
"..."
Even I, a mere human, felt a twinge of fear.
I'd only ever heard of short sellers hunting—I never thought I'd become their prey.
No. At this scale, perhaps I should've expected it.
"Chief."
Everyone was looking at me.
They knew it too.
At this speed, we'd soon face forced liquidation.
Had I made the wrong call?
I quietly placed my hand over the Kangsung Electronics stock listing.
"..."
No sensation came.
Which could only mean one thing.
"Let's wait it out."
We'd grit our teeth and hold on.
＊＊＊
Russia, Malaysia, the Netherlands, and more.
The K7's popularity was skyrocketing, causing supply shortages across multiple countries.
Though still trailing behind Raptor, which dominated the global smartphone market, if this momentum continued, the next model could be a massive hit, reclaiming some market share.
As if to prove it, the stock price kept climbing.
Of course, the influx of foreign hunters had caused some abnormal fluctuations.
'The articles about them should be coming out around now.'
By this point, the short squeeze should've triggered breaking news everywhere.
But instead of the expected reports, something entirely unexpected surfaced.
"W-what is this nonsense? Exploding on an airplane?!"
"Fortunately, the fire broke out before takeoff, so there were no casualties."
"That's not the point!"
Reports of K7 batteries spontaneously combusting or exploding were increasing.
At first, they were dismissed as sabotage—malicious attempts to tarnish the K7's reputation.
But as cases multiplied, Kangsung initiated free replacements—until a major incident finally erupted.
"Is it true that the U.S. and Europe have completely banned the possession and use of K7 batteries on all flights?"
"Yes. The problem is that the U.S. Department of Transportation has announced they'll prohibit their use not just in airports but in all public facilities—"
BANG—!
Chairman Kang Sung-ho slammed his hand down on the table with such force that the executives froze in place, falling into a tense silence.
Taking deep breaths as if forcibly suppressing his fury, Chairman Kang finally spoke.
"...Have you identified the issue? When the first explosion incident occurred, you said it wasn't a major problem back then."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"At the time, it was difficult to pinpoint the exact cause... but after running multiple tests, we found that some cells were missing insulation tape, and the separator was damaged with bent electrodes, leaving insufficient space between components—likely causing the issue."
"Can it be fixed through after-sales service?"
The president of SDI, in charge of battery production, swallowed dryly before answering.
"...It's impossible. We'd have to remake them from scratch."
An icy wind seemed to blow through the conference room.
Even shouting wouldn't have been enough to vent the frustration, but the Chairman didn't even seem to have the energy for that right now.
"..."
How much time passed like that?
"Recall all of them."
"Excuse me? Recall... you mean a full-scale retrieval?"
"Yes. Recall every single one."
"But Chairman, recalling them now would mean millions of units..."
The scale of the financial damage was unimaginable.
"If we don't handle this crisis properly, we'll have to leave the smartphone market forever. Is that what you want?"
"..."
The U.S. Department of Transportation stepping in to impose a full ban on the K7 was unprecedented.
If they didn't put out this fire quickly, Kangsung might have to exit the mobile business altogether.
This was the greatest crisis in Kangsung Group's history.
"After recalling all the phones, replace every single one with a new model. And announce that we're completely overhauling the battery design and testing system to ensure this never happens again."
But hadn't his father always said it?
Turn crisis into opportunity.
"Spend whatever it takes. We're tearing everything down—from the manufacturing process to testing—and rebuilding it from the ground up."
He had also said this:
Change everything except family.
Perhaps now was the "time" he had spoken of.
＊＊＊
The employees of the Prime Department truly understood the meaning of life and death today.
It felt like a blade was pressed against their throats—no, like it was about to pierce through.
And then, at the very last moment—
"They're—they're dumping shares!"
The outsiders began frantically offloading their holdings.
Even the hunters—who had stubbornly held on despite the news of the airplane battery explosion—finally caved and dumped their shares after Kangsung Group announced the mass recall.
They had been trying to choke the short-sellers to death, but now, gripped by the fear that they might be the ones dying, they were liquidating their positions like madmen.
"Wow. I seriously thought I was gonna die from sheer terror."
"No, it wasn't just terror—we almost died. If the stock had risen any further, we wouldn't have been able to meet the margin requirements. We'd have been forced into liquidation."
It had been a razor-thin margin.
If Kangsung Electronics' announcement had come even a little later, they would have lost everything.
It was like defusing a bomb with one second left on the timer—a moment straight out of a movie.
"Ha. I'm drenched in sweat."
"Same. My heart's still pounding so hard I can barely breathe."
And then, a question arose.
"But... did Manager Jeong know about the battery issue in advance?"
"Probably? That's why he made such a high-risk investment, right?"
"Still, no matter how you look at it... How many hearts does he even have? And this time, it was really dangerous."
"It was dangerous, sure... but watching those hunter bastards collapse was thrilling."
"Damn. Can you imagine how pissed those hunters must be? They must've thought victory was guaranteed."
But once again, the winner wasn't the outsiders—it was Manager Jeong Jin-ho.
However, it wasn't over yet.
Because the timing of selling was just as crucial.
After Kangsung Electronics' announcement, as the stock price plummeted,
Manager Jeong spent days simply observing the situation without giving any further orders.
"It's still dropping like crazy."
"It'll probably keep falling for a while, right?"
"Kangsung Electronics did say they'd overhaul their entire system..."
"Has the Manager said anything yet?"
"No, not yet. He'll probably wait a few more days..."
Just then, the firmly shut door to the manager's office swung wide open.
"Everyone."
"Ah! Yes, Manager!"
At the sudden sound of the manager's voice, everyone instinctively rose from their seats.
"Please close all your positions."
Now?
It still seems like it'll drop further...
But no one dared to question it.
The moment those words fell, everyone immediately returned to their stations and began closing their positions.
"Ah. After closing the positions, please reinvest everything back into Kangsung Electronics."
"Huh? Are we going short again this time?"
"No. This time, we're going long."
"...?"
All the employees tilted their heads in confusion.
"Going long this time?"
Is this that "give poison then give medicine" investment strategy I've only heard about?
***
While investing brought a rush of dopamine, I naturally felt the weight of responsibility too.
As the sums I handled grew larger, so did that burden.
Though the thrill of moving such vast amounts of money was exhilarating, the accompanying mental stress had reached unbearable levels.
Especially this time.
I'd been having nightmares about Gwangun Securities going bankrupt, losing so much sleep these past few days that I could barely function.
"If I'd known it would be this stressful, I wouldn't have started at all."
Of course, when our last-minute reversal succeeded and our positions survived, the exhilaration was indescribably intense. But if asked to do it again, I don't think I could.
"Still, Kangsung Electronics is impressive."
With my limited perspective, I'd wondered if Kangsung Electronics might withdraw from the smartphone market entirely.
Hadn't they been completely backed into a corner, with the U.S. and Europe outright banning K7 usage?
But Chairman Kang Sung-ho's response was remarkably swift.
They recalled millions of phones, offered free model replacements or refunds, and announced plans to overhaul their entire global system.
They weren't just making announcements either—they were completely revamping their production lines on a massive scale.
Perhaps seeing potential in Kangsung Electronics' rapid response and unprecedented moves, their plummeting stock price began rebounding.
"So that's why he told us to buy."
As Kangsung Electronics' stock was in freefall, a sudden intuition struck me. I closed my short positions and went long instead.
Given the current rebound momentum, it seemed likely to recover to pre-crash levels.
Given time, they might even achieve their stated goal of 2 million won per share.
Turning crisis into opportunity.
That phrase suits Kangsung Electronics perfectly right now.
"What are you muttering to yourself about?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing."
I turned off the news I'd been watching.
Right. It's the weekend—time to rest at home.
Honestly, this Kangsung Electronics situation had drained me mentally; I needed this break.
"Oppa, should we take a family trip?"
"Huh?"
"You've been working nonstop without rest. Making money is good, but what's the point if you just hoard it? Working constantly without breaks, never spending..."
"Well... you're right."
Rest.
I'd been feeling like I needed some too.
After this ordeal, my brain feels like it's melted from dopamine overload.
"Where should we go for this family trip?"
"Hmm~ anywhere's fine. You pick the dates and I'll decide where. But Japan might be best, right? It's convenient for a short trip. So close."
Japan is where Koreans travel to most frequently.
And the numbers increase every year.
The only problem? I've never been abroad.
"Where in Japan?"
"Let me see... I'll show you a map. There are so many tourist spots."
My sister, suddenly excited, brought her tablet over and began pointing at various locations.
"The safest options are Tokyo and Osaka. There are other regions too. If Mom and Dad want hot springs..."
She drew circles around different areas as she explained.
"Ah! And this place is trending lately—Kumamoto!"
"!?"
At my sister's mention of Kumamoto, my entire body shuddered.
"It's a place that combines city and rural characteristics, with well-developed tourism industries where you can see automotive, motorcycle, and cutting-edge electronics technologies. Their hot springs are excellent too... Huh? Oppa, what's wrong?"
My vision swam so violently I could barely stay seated.
"Oppa?"
"Ah, sorry..."
I barely managed to collect myself.
The intensity of what I'd just felt was beyond anything I'd experienced before.
It felt like the entire apartment building was shaking.
"...Let's go somewhere besides Japan."
"Huh?"
"America or somewhere far. I'll treat you and our parents to first class this time."
"Wow! First class?! Wait a second, Oppa. Then for America..."
My little sister completely erased Japan from her mind and eagerly began searching for other travel destinations.
But I couldn't even hear her chattering voice anymore.
What the hell was that feeling just now...?