Mission Clear
Evening, after work.
Min So-hee showed up while Kang Siyoon was sitting in the café across from the office. She walked straight over to the window-side table where he'd settled in, and before long, two cups of coffee sat on the table between them.
“Oh? You ordered mine in advance too?”
“Two shots of cream, one sugar, right?”
“Excuse me?”
“Just kidding. I pre-ordered a café latte.”
“What kind of joke is that...”
Assistant Manager Min wore an exasperated expression. Apparently his social skills hadn't yet developed to the point where his jokes actually landed. She tilted her head, looking genuinely surprised.
“Is something going on, though? You said you'd buy me coffee, but I don't think coffee is the only reason you asked me here.”
Sharp as always. Coffee hadn't been the real reason he'd called her out.
“There's something I want to ask you.”
She brought her cup to her lips and listened attentively as he spoke.
“You've been on the Trading Team longer than I have. You must have been through a lot over the years. So here's what I want to know... what does it feel like to lose the company money?”
Pfft!
Assistant Manager Min nearly sprayed her coffee across the table. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, then widened her eyes and shot the question right back at him.
“What does it feel like to lose the company money?”
“Yes... I've never experienced it myself.”
She stared at him in silence for a moment before bursting into laughter.
“Pff, hah! Well, I suppose that tracks. If it's you, Siyoon, I can see why you'd wonder. You never made a single trade while you were on the Trading Team, and even working in the warehouse, all you brought the company was profit. But why the sudden curiosity?”
Her face was brimming with curiosity.
The truth was, there was something he couldn't quite empathize with in the SST staff—the fear of handing the company a loss, the anxiety over being fired.
In eight months on the Trading Team, he'd never once worried about that. Even if he had made trades, he was certain the results would have been profitable. Short of some outside reason, he was confident no one would ever fire him purely on ability. Siyoon took a sip of his coffee and spoke.
“I don't understand why people fear competition. Trading is a battle with yourself—I don't see why anyone would need to lean on others.”
She gave a small laugh, wearing the expression of someone who'd just heard an elementary schooler ask an out-of-left-field question. Still, perhaps because of all the time she'd spent observing him, she didn't seem overly flustered.
“I'm not sure what answer to give you. People leaning on each other... maybe that's just instinct?”
“Instinct?”
“The feeling that someone will cover for you when you slip up, that someone believes in you no matter what. Everyone wants that sense of security, don't they?”
“......”
He still didn't get it.
When she said everyone, Siyoon wasn't included in that number. He had memories of someone covering for him, of someone believing in him—but they were so distant that they failed to move him now.
Assistant Manager Min studied his expression carefully.
“That's fascinating, actually.”
“What is?”
“I think this is the first time I've ever heard you talk like this... Why? Is there someone you're worried about?”
Maybe he was worried about them, after all. The sensation of holding the SST staff's lifeline in his hands. Perhaps, deep down, it was a wish for them to survive until the very end.
“That's a secret.”
“Tch. You've got so many secrets.”
“Thank you anyway, for making time for me.”
“Oh, please. We're neighbors. My door is always open if you ever need advice—just give me a call.”
Siyoon turned his gaze out the window. The footsteps of office workers heading home looked hurried, rushed.
The next morning.
Siyoon logged into the SST messenger and studied his team members' faces on the video feed.
“Good morning.”
—Good morning, Team Leader.
“Yes, I'm doing fine—but your faces are a different story entirely.”
Today was the final day of the mission. These were the faces of people who had agonized through a long night.
The words he'd heard from Assistant Manager Min yesterday circled back through his mind.
Everyone wants that sense of security.
He didn't know exactly what that security meant, but he wanted to ease his team's burden, even a little.
“I will cover for all of you. If you need trust, I'll give you mine.”
—......
“Feeling a bit more settled now?”
—Sorry?
Yang Miyeong cocked her head in confusion.
As expected, it didn't seem to help at all. All he'd done was make the atmosphere awkward for nothing.
“Ahem. Today is the final day of the mission. The cutoff of 500 million won might feel like a heavy burden. But you all know what I always say. What are numbers?”
—Just numbers, nothing more!
The staff raised their voices, as if steeling themselves.
“Good. The market just opened. Let's push through to the very end.”
—Yes, sir!
And so the morning session began. The staff's eyes had sharpened into blades. To each of them, filling the 500 million won target would require superhuman focus.
—Buy order executed!
—Sell order executed!
Yang Miyeong wielded her signature composure like a weapon, pinpointing the peaks and troughs with precision and steadily banking her profits.
Go Guhyeon was different from before, too. As though something in him had awakened, he was churning out one two-percent-plus gain after another.
But Ahn Hyeoksu—
He still looked uneasy. His entire morning had amounted to just two trades.
When the morning session finally closed, the results so far appeared on screen.
Yang Miyeong: 611.5 million won.
Go Guhyeon: 388.1 million won.
Ahn Hyeoksu: 142.1 million won.
Relief and concern mingled as Siyoon reviewed the numbers. As expected, Yang Miyeong's skill was exceptional. The 50 million won bonus was going to be hers.
Go Guhyeon would have no trouble reaching 500 million once the afternoon session wrapped—so long as he kept his head in the game.
And then there was Ahn Hyeoksu. A father of one, he was being overly cautious.
If you don't trade, you don't make money.
He favored swing trading over rapid-fire scalping. Rather than buying and selling within the same day, he held a purchased stock for a day or longer and then cashed out the spread. The three-day window objectively worked against him—though giving him special treatment wouldn't be fair, either. A trader has to turn a profit in any situation, under any conditions. That was their fate.
“Hyeoksu.”
—...Yes.
“There isn't much time left.”
—Yes... I know.
“I understand that making 500 million in profit is no easy feat. But next to 5 billion in capital, it's not such a mountain. Even setting aside fees, with simple math, a daily return of just 3.3 percent clears your target of 500 million.”
—......
Ahn Hyeoksu lowered his head.
Siyoon hadn't meant to crush him. After a moment's hesitation, he spoke again.
“The pressure of being a family's breadwinner can't be light. Even so, I believe you'll pull this off, Hyeoksu.”
—...Thank you.
Even as he said it, Siyoon lacked conviction. It was possible that Ahn Hyeoksu would have to be cut from the SST team after all.
On the walk back to the office after lunch, Kim the Senior Associate glanced over at him.
“Director, is something the matter today?”
“Hmm? Why?”
“It was the same at lunch—you've barely said a word all day.”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Glad to hear it, sir.”
Ahn Hyeoksu was impossible to get off his mind. There was no absolute need for him to hit the 500 million target, but Siyoon kept wrestling with whether the man's trading style made him fit to be a trader at all.
Not all traders are built the same. Trading styles vary wildly depending on temperament. Some do nothing but scalp gap-up stocks in the market's opening minutes; others read only the moving averages and trade the moment of breakout. Whether scalping or holding long, some simply chase themes and market catalysts.
The real problem is the state of the market. There are times when a trader has to adapt their style to the conditions—scalping when volatility runs high, swing trading when there's no clear trend and only choppy waves, and mid-to-long-term positioning when riding the cycles driven by interest rates and policy.
In that light, Ahn Hyeoksu was genuinely a concern. He was stubbornly clinging to his own method. Even hitting the target of 500 million looked out of reach now.
Driiing—!
Just as they reached the office, the phone in his pocket buzzed. It was Director Jeong Chan-soo calling.
“Go on in ahead of me.”
“Yes, sir.”
After sending the warehouse staff inside, Siyoon answered the call.
“Yes, Director.”
—There he is. Did you have lunch?
“Just finished. I was heading back in now.”
—There's a new sashimi joint across from the office. We should grab a drink there sometime.
“Sounds good.”
—Anyway, that aside—I've noticed the SST team's been making an awful lot of trades these past few days. I couldn't stand the curiosity, so I'm calling. What's going on?
So that was why he'd called. Siyoon had been wondering.
“As of a few days ago, I've been granting trading authority to the team members and having them execute trades themselves.”
—Oh ho... already? And it's the team members who've been generating those profits?
“That's right.”
—Ahaha. Director Kang, you truly are something else. So I take it this is some kind of test?
“You could call it a test of sorts.”
—Right. You served on the Trading Team yourself, so you know this better than anyone. The ones with it will make it; the ones without won't, no matter what you do. If a seed is never going to bear fruit, cutting it quickly is actually better for the team. So... do you see anyone who needs to be filtered out?
The answer didn't come easily. Ahn Hyeoksu's name had already surfaced in his mind.
“I believe every one of them will make it.”
—You believe? Heh heh... that's unexpected. Not a very Director Kang answer, is it?
Not like me?
Was he really seen as that cold-blooded? Perhaps it was only natural, given the image that came with having driven out seven people through an internal exposé.
—Well. I'm sure you'll handle it fine. Keep up the good work.
Even after hanging up, the conversation lingered. The ones with it—and the ones without. The Director's words wouldn't leave his head.
Thirty minutes into the afternoon session, Yang Miyeong finished her trading early.
—Team Leader. I'm going to close it out here.
She said it calmly, but the excitement she was trying to suppress was plain to see.
“Great work out there. You've hit exactly 700 million.”
—Just a lucky run.
Her total profit stood at 701.2 million won—a staggering result for someone who could hardly be called a new hire.
Time kept flowing onward, and then Go Guhyeon's face flushed crimson on the monitor.
—Ugh. Haaah!
Siyoon looked over and saw the problem: he'd botched a trade. Greed to fill the 500 million target had made him miss his sell timing. His profit so far sat at 421 million won.
Just as he was hunting for a fresh entry point, Siyoon spoke up.
“Guhyeon.”
—Yes...
“There isn't much time left. I think you can stop trading here.”
—But the target amount...
“You didn't hit the target, but you performed more than admirably. Guhyeon, you pass.”
—R-really?
“That last mistake is one even seasoned veterans make all the time. Just don't make a habit of it.”
—Yes, sir! I won't forget it! Whew...
Go Guhyeon let out a long breath and rubbed his belly in relief.
But Ahn Hyeoksu sat frozen at attention, locked onto a single stock.
There's really no time left...
His profit stood at 160 million won. He'd managed a few scalps during the afternoon session, but his position sizes were too small to move the needle much.
There was a reason for that. Two days earlier, Ahn Hyeoksu had committed 3.5 billion won to KN Ocean Tech. With most of the team's 5 billion in operating capital sunk into that one position, he was short on funds to trade with.
KN Ocean Tech was a stock Siyoon had been watching as well—a company researching and producing eco-friendly bio products derived from marine microorganisms and ocean plankton. A product they'd developed a few months back had been hit by a safety controversy, and just two days ago, conveniently, KN Ocean Tech had completed its safety testing and filed the disclosure.
And yet the price hadn't budged. Siyoon had expected it to rise too, but it seemed the move would take longer than anticipated. There was no question it was a stock that would climb. The problem was the timing. Today was the final day of the mission—if the price rose tomorrow, it meant nothing.
Ten minutes before the market close.
The staff's faces had gone rigid. In ten minutes, a comrade they'd fought alongside might have to walk out the door for good.
Then—
Go Guhyeon shot to his feet.
—Team Leader...!
His eyes were fixed on Ahn Hyeoksu's monitor. Siyoon quickly pulled up KN Ocean Tech's chart on his own screen.
What...!?
KN Ocean Tech, silent for days, had begun to climb. Only ten minutes remained until the close, but the speed of the ascent was beyond anything they'd projected.
—It's going up!
—Yes! That's it! That's the way!
Ahn Hyeoksu remained frozen in place, but Yang Miyeong and Go Guhyeon were raising their voices now.
...And then, at last—
Stock: KN Ocean Tech
Day-over-day: +12.3%
Just before the market closed, Ahn Hyeoksu threw his entire remaining position into the market at the asking price.
Seconds later, Go Guhyeon threw his arms around Ahn Hyeoksu and shouted.
—He made it! He made it, sir! Hyeoksu's profit just broke past 500 million!