The Smell of Money
"Am I dreaming..."
I gave my cheek a light slap. It stung. So this was reality.
"I'm really going to be working here?"
Just a few weeks ago, I'd been losing sleep over where I should even try to get hired, too busy stuffing envelopes with résumés to sleep properly. But fate is a curious thing. Who could have guessed that the president of the club I'd joined on a whim was a director of Daesung Group—and, on top of that, a member of the Royal Family?
"Not that I'm only an intern, of course."
The club president... no, I supposed I should be calling him Director now. In any case, he'd told me that if I didn't slack off and worked hard, a full-time position would be within reach. His role had been to get my foot in the door; the rest was mine to handle on my own. So I fully intended to work my tail off. After all, I'd finally caught a stroke of luck that rarely comes calling.
And this was an investment firm, no less—a place tied to the dream I'd had as a child. If I gave everything I had here, then even if I fell short, wouldn't I be able to brush against that dream, if only a little?
"Ahem."
Getting lost in fantasies like that brought on a small, dry cough. Right—aiming that high was probably a stretch. For now, I'd settle for thinking about becoming a full-time employee. I was an intern, after all.
"Ah. The mask."
Before walking into the company with my heart pounding, I moved to pull off the mask I wore out of habit. Honestly, this was the part that made me the most nervous. My sense of smell was so hypersensitive that I never went outside without a mask—without it, simply getting through the day became a struggle. But if a brand-new intern kept his mask on, his superiors were bound to find it strange.
"It's not like I'll die."
If it became truly unbearable, I'd slip it back on then. And so, the moment I set foot inside the securities firm with my heart in my throat—
"!?"
A whirlwind of intoxicating scent froze me where I stood. It wasn't a stench. Quite the opposite. As if every fragrant scent in the world had been woven into one, that opulent aroma wrapped itself around me.
"This is..."
This fullness, brimming all the way to the crown of my head. A fragrance that seemed to hold every desire and every pleasure the world had ever known.
It was the smell of money.
"You called for me, Center Director."
"Yes. Team Leader Cheon. Come in, come in."
Even though the Research Operations Team clocked in before dawn, the hours were never enough. That was why the Center Director rarely summoned anyone in the early morning. Being called in now meant something had broken loose. A thread of tension ran through Cheon Doa.
"Is something the matter...?"
"Have a seat first."
The Center Director's expression was difficult to read.
"Team Leader Cheon. You know we took on interns at the securities firm this cycle?"
"Ah, yes. Are you placing one with our team as well?"
"I am. But that... intern isn't your typical intern."
"Pardon?"
"He was sent down at the group level."
Sent down by the group itself? Cheon Doa's brow creased slightly.
"The young master is coming, then?"
"He is. And to give you a sense of how serious this is—Director Geum Gaho, the man we all thought had retired for good, came back just to place him there personally."
"What? Director Geum Gaho himself? But that man..."
She didn't bother finishing the sentence. Anyone who'd been around the company long enough knew the tragedy of Geum Gaho.
"He lost his wife young and lived for nothing but his only son. Then everything fell apart, and I was certain he'd left this industry for good. The rumor was that he'd gone off somewhere overseas—whether he's truly back or not, who knows. In any case, this parachute hire is anything but ordinary."
"Then why not place him somewhere else? Why the Research Operations Team of all places?"
"Come on. Do you want the young master hounded day after day to dig up data and write reports the moment he arrives? Or would you rather he go to the Trading Division and get chewed out over his numbers every day?"
"Operations is no picnic either."
"I know that as well as anyone. But that's not a desk where you gather material in order to write reports. Honestly, if a man wants an easy ride, it's the perfect place to coast along, build up experience, and widen his horizons—isn't it?"
He wasn't wrong. Not that anyone could call the Research Operations Team leisurely—quite the opposite. It was one of the busiest, most burdened corners of the entire securities firm. Every day, data and reports poured in from domestic and overseas markets, from every sector imaginable, all funneled down to the Operations Team. From that flood, the team had to filter and decide what would be uploaded. One bad call could drag down the firm's brand value—it was anything but a comfortable post.
"That busyness belongs to you and the team members under you. How busy can an intern possibly be? He'll play at make-believe for a while, then move along to some other department."
So that was why he was coming in as an intern. If he'd arrived as a regular employee, a dozen different duties would have landed on his desk. As an intern, he owed no accountability and needed only to handle a few odd jobs.
"Team Leader Cheon, I don't have many years left before I retire. So don't go letting sparks fly where they shouldn't—manage him properly. You haven't been in that seat long yourself, have you? The Research Center's numbers have been poor lately and people are talking. Make sure no worse talk starts."
Cheon Doa left the director's office without having managed a single word.
"Team Leader, wasn't the intern supposed to join us today?"
"Ah, yes. That's right."
By the time she reached the office, the atmosphere was already in a flutter.
Earlier than expected?
"Where's the intern?"
"Ah, we've seated him in your office for now."
"Good. We'll do introductions later—everyone, back to work."
Cheon Doa drew a long breath at the silhouette of the man waiting in the distance. Time to go pay our respects to the precious young master of the Royal Family.
"I'm Cheon Doa, Team Leader. A pleasure to meet you."
"Ah—yes, ma'am. Team Leader, I look forward to working with you."
Watching him fold himself into a full ninety-degree bow, Cheon Doa faltered slightly. Every Royal Family member she'd ever seen had dripped with arrogance from posture alone, as if to announce that the spoon they'd been born holding was different from everyone else's.
"You graduated in economics, so I imagine you've studied this field on your own?"
"Yes, ma'am. There's still so much I don't know, so I'll learn as hard as I can!"
The voice rang out strong and clear—this was, unmistakably, the greeting of a brand-new hire. Not that of a Royal Family member dropped in by parachute.
Strange.
The exact opposite of the image she'd expected. Cheon Doa tilted her head. Could this, too, be some kind of act?
"Associate Kim."
"Yes, Team Leader. You called?"
"Come say hello. This is Intern Kang Suho, who'll be with our team starting today. He's an intern, but he'll be working here for the time being, so play the mentor well. Teach him properly whenever there's something he doesn't know."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And Intern Kang—if you have any concerns, any grievances or inconveniences, bring them to me first. Understood?"
"Yes, Team Leader."
With a crisp bow, Kang Suho followed his mentor out of the room. How to put it—the young man was courtesy itself.
"...That man is really a member of the Royal Family?"
There's a saying: it isn't the work that makes a company unbearable—it's the people. And didn't they always say that if you drew the wrong mentor, office life would torment you for the rest of your days?
"Hehehe."
Yet my mentor wore a sly little grin from the moment she led me out of the office until the instant she showed me to my desk. ...Was she an odd one?
"Ah, was I smiling too much? I'm Kim Sujin, Associate."
"Yes, ma'am. I'm Kang Suho, the intern."
Associate Kim seized my hand in both of hers.
"Do you have any idea how long I've endured this wretched life as the youngest? At last, a spring breeze is blowing my way too."
The gratitude written across her face was unmistakable.
"I'll take really, really good care of you—so don't you dare run off anywhere, Suho."
"I'm sorry?"
"Every colleague who started alongside me has fled, you see. And the junior who came in under me left before long, too..."
Had the work been that brutal?
"It's true the Research Operations Team is busier than the other teams, day in and day out. We come in before dawn, and by eight at the latest, every vetted report has to be uploaded and mailed out to the clients."
So that was why Operations started earlier than any other team.
"If we dawdle and the reports go up late, our own traders—and the clients who depend on us for information—can't make their investment decisions. You know the pre-open quote session opens at 8:30, right? Everyone starts placing orders then, before the market opens at nine. We can't have them missing their timing because of us."
I knew well enough what role the research team played at a securities firm. They were the brain of the financial house.
"However many traders a firm has, without our research they can't build an investment strategy. We gather the information and widen their field of vision. Take that away, and traders might as well be blind."
Which was why research staff worked around the clock, compiling information into reports that traders used to invest and turn a profit.
"That's why the Operations Team matters most of all. We decide which reports go up. If our judgment is wrong? It hits the firm's returns across the board—and drags the brand's value down with it."
And so my mentor held forth, underscoring just how vital our Research Center and Operations Team were to the company.
"Then why did all your colleagues resign...?"
"Th-that's..."
Flustered, she shrank into a smaller voice.
"Traders just... make more money..."
"Ah."
"My whole cohort, and the one junior I had—every last one of them left for the Trading Division. Our Research Center does pay performance bonuses, but next to what the traders take home, well..."
Her voice trailed off into gloom, and then she looked up at me with earnest, pleading eyes.
"You're not planning to bolt for the Trading Division once you make full-time, are you, Suho?"
"Ah—I haven't dared think that far ahead yet..."
"Well, fair enough. You're still an intern—I got ahead of myself, didn't I?"
I hadn't been at this company long, but listening to her fresh, green scent and her soft, mellow voice, I could almost believe I was sitting on a university quad in springtime rather than in a stiff-collared securities office. The Team Leader was, how to put it, steeped in the aura of a steel-willed career woman—while my mentor was something softer, like spun sugar.
Instinct told me I'd struck gold with my mentor.
"Ah, but this is no time for chatting. We need to get ready for the meeting. I've done most of the prep—I'll walk you through it quickly."
She had gathered a mountain of reports and laid them out across the table one by one.
"These are the reports from each team in our center. They're divided into domestic and overseas, and sorted by sector. They were all vetted as of yesterday, of course, but we run one last check at the morning meeting. The unwritten rule is to have every decision made by 7:45 at the latest."
"7:45?"
"Yes. That way the reports are up on the firm's official site before eight and delivered to the clients. Uploading at eight is the job of juniors like us—I'll walk you through that after the meeting."
"Yes, ma'am."
In the whirlwind of preparation, the team members soon came filing in.
"Everyone's here? Then let's begin."
As the Team Leader took her seat, the members began speaking up one by one.
"The US FOMC—the Federal Open Market Committee—is showing firm resolve to raise rates at least once next year. The pressure for a strong dollar looks set to hold."
"The dominant analysis is that US Treasuries will spike on expectations of fiscal expansion from the incoming Trumbell administration."
"But if rates rise, bonds fall—don't they?"
"They do, but the views are splitting. If short-term rates climb and recession fears pile on top, demand for long-term bonds grows, doesn't it? Long-term yields drift down naturally as a result—and long-term bond prices rise with them. That's the forecast."
The Team Leader nodded along, leafing through the reports and their clashing interpretations.
"What does everyone think?"
"I believe the rise in long-term yields is the right read."
"Agreed. They're already calling it the Trumbell Play, aren't they? Tax cuts all the way to expanded infrastructure spending—the market expects the economy to run hot. A surge in long-term yields is all but certain."
"Good. Then we'll put out the report on that side. Next agenda item, please."
"Yes, ma'am. This one covers leisure. As with the other brokerages, the outlook is that the leisure sector will struggle for the time being."
"With leisure, isn't it better not to so much as glance at it for the next few years?"
"Yes. We'll hold that line."
It was my first meeting, but I could tell at a glance how formidable the people in this room were.
The moment the rate talk ended, they pivoted straight to the next sector, debated swiftly, and passed judgment. Semiconductors, biotech, electronics, chemicals, leisure, and on down the list—they were putting final grades on already-vetted reports, deciding what would go out in each.
"I think that covers everything—shall we wrap up here?"
"Yes, Team Leader."
"Upload everything we settled on today, and get the mailings out fast."
"Yes, ma'am!"
I'd tried to take diligent notes, but the agenda items swept past so quickly my head was spinning. How did these people do this every single day? Stick with it long enough, and maybe I could get there too?
"Associate Kim. And Intern Kang."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"You two listened carefully today, didn't you? In that spirit, let's hear your thoughts. What do you think, Suho?"
"Pardon? My... opinion?"
"Speak freely. You seemed to be listening hard, so I'd like to hear your take and give you some feedback. Which sector's report do you think would be better?"
I knew perfectly well what a kindness it was to draw a brand-new hire into the discussion like this—
'But to ask for my opinion out of nowhere...'
For a moment, my brain seemed to freeze solid. In situations like this, it was better to go with the flow. So, working from what we'd just discussed—
'Ugh.'
That was the moment.
A foul stench came rolling off the automotive sector report.
Which made no sense at all. I hadn't caught a whiff of anything like it since joining this firm.
"Suho?"
And yet, from somewhere in that mountain of paper, a sweetness was cutting straight through the stench.
I felt sick enough to gag, so I hurriedly rifled through the stack and dug out the report.
"Ah—"
I could breathe again. The stench had vanished as if it had never existed, and the air was thick with the scent of flowers.
"That's really the one you picked?"
But the Team Leader, having checked the report in my hand, tilted her head.
"A boom in the leisure sector?"