Joy and Sorrow Entwined

After my sister's set ended, I made it final. I was putting fifty million won into her band.

"I even brought the contract ahead of time!!!"

Drum pulled the papers from inside his jacket. I went through them line by line, then signed.

In short, I put in fifty million won, and in return I get a say in the producing and a cut of the profits.

On paper, producing rights looked like real power. In practice it was easy to write the whole thing off as an empty privilege. Nothing guaranteed this band would ever earn that fifty million back.

But.

My ability already told me. This band is going to blow up. No question.

I had no idea, then, how many times over that money would return. What I did have, thanks to the ability, was certainty that it would come back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠several times over. So I signed without fuss, and only then did my sister start working through with the others how they ought to spend it.

"First thing, we swap out the synthesizer. That thing's about to die."

"Album release costs stay in their own pile. We don't touch them."

"I want a new keyboard."

"Way I see it, we dump the whole amount into this thing I'm investing in..."

"Do that with your own money!"

Ji-soo flared at Drum's last line and they scuffled, and Drum bolted for the corner, insisting it had only been a joke. I watched her and let out a short laugh.

"Ji-soo. You change your bass first. Most expensive one you can find. The coolest."

She went still.

She'd been chattering away, lit up with the others, and the words died in her mouth. She came over, stopped in front of me, and hesitated.

"What? Why are you suddenly..."

She threw her arms around me.

"Oppa... thank you. For investing. I won't let you down. I swear I won't."

I only stroked her hair.

"You've been through a lot. From now on, live the way you want."

As long as I had this ability, I could protect my family's happiness for as long as I pleased.

"Ahem! Ahem!"

Kwon Hyeok, who had been watching from the side, stepped in and offered his hand.

"Anyway, thank you for trusting us, Mr. Chae Seong-ho. We'll answer your investment with something we won't be ashamed to show anyone."

I looked at the outstretched hand for a moment, then took it.

"Of course. I've got a good feel for these things. This is only my first investment."

"Hyung-nim! From now on, that's what I'm calling you! I know a great barbecue place. Drink, to mark the occasion?"

The handshake broke the tension, and Drum bloomed into laughter at the edge of it. My sister told him to quit joking, and still she was smiling—brightly, brilliantly.

Seeing that, I smiled too.

"Of course. I'll show you a grill hand forged at construction-company dinners."

"Hahahaha!!!"

And so the day ran out. I was on the road home with my sister asleep on my back, drunk.

"Oppa..."

"Yeah?"

The voice against my shoulders was barely there.

"Thank you..."

I looked up at the sky. Behind our house, set into the hillside, a vast apartment complex reared up into the dark.

There had been a time we lived with the family in a cramped little villa, when those apartments up there had seemed unbearably far above us. My work was building apartments, and yet buying one—buying a home of my own—had felt impossibly distant. Not anymore. It sat within reach of an outstretched hand.

Because now I knew how to use what I had.

The cash left in the account was only about twenty million won. That was enough.

Tomorrow the market opens, and I can short again, scalp again, do it all over.

And if I add this ability that evolved today...

I would make far more than I had put in tonight. Money the present me couldn't even picture.

I went home, greeted my parents, and the next morning caught an early bus down to Daegu. The weekend had been full ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of things, but the moment I was actually waiting on was still Monday, 10:30 a.m., when the Chinese market opened.

Company's off today. Plenty of time to get ready. Perfect.

I watched the charts while I waited for the open, and I wasn't worried in the slightest.

Today, too, that ominous chill is telling me it closes down. Certain.

What I felt this morning was even sharper than Friday.

I wasn't even looking at the chart. Only at those numbers.

And the instant the market opened—

Whoooosh!!

Like a body on a playground slide, the return on my short started dropping toward the floor. From +10% to +6%. The underlying had spiked 2% the moment the bell rang.

Two faces cut through my head. Assistant Manager Kim was probably screaming at his screen right about now. Assistant Manager Ryu was probably letting out a sigh of relief.

But—

Now.

Off the underlying I'd been staring at came a feeling different from the one that meant a down close. A fierce certainty that the very next moment, it would fall. Yes. The same feeling I used to get on a runner, a breath before a massive bearish candle printed.

KWA-AAAAANG!!!

The short that had slid to the bottom launched back up like a rocket.

+16%.

The number pointed straight up, with no end in sight.

Still? It's still climbing?

As if brushing that thought aside, the price kept rising without a ceiling.

Around there the chart twitched and stalled. My ability kept talking anyway.

Further down.

And at last, the moment that sluggish line of defense gave way—

BOOM!

+29.8%.

A crazed pillar of fire shot up, and the market stopped dead. On the Chinese exchange a name can move only ten percent in either direction in a day, and trading had been halted.

Mine tracks the China-listed stock at two times. For today, this should be about the ceiling.

I smiled and looked at the account once.

Without my lifting a finger, the money had swollen in a breath. And right then the phone rang.

Ah. Assistant Manager Kim.

I answered with a small laugh.

The weekend. Now that he mentioned it, I hadn't gone looking for a single article about the short I'd left on through Saturday and Sunday.

I already knew it was going to fall.

So that was it.

A drop of this size was probably temporary. No company that hadn't lost its mind would see a rumor like that, and a slide like this, and simply sit on its hands.

My read hadn't changed.

The underlying, which had touched minus ten percent, soon clawed back to around minus five and went sideways. I was perfectly at ease.

Earlier, when the halt kicked in...

Even after the underlying had already shown a ten percent drop, that ominous chill was still there, pointing past it, at a fall beyond the fall. I could almost see Assistant Manager Ryu—face brightening over some short red candle, then teeth in his nails the moment a blue one printed.

I, meanwhile, took an easy drink of water on the bus, closed the short chart, and went hunting through the runners again.

All right... which of these is the one that's about to explode?

Thump. Thump.

The ability wasn't firing. My heart was racing anyway, on nothing but the thought of making money.

Time to make money.

But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the bus heading down to the site, things refused to go as I'd pictured. I was glued to the trading window until my eyes ached.

What is this? Why can't I feel it?

Tap. Tap.

I had felt it yesterday. No mistake. A sure surge, rising out of my chest. The moment I saw my sister smiling, happy—a warm current had moved, and my heart had hammered.

Right. The exact opposite of the chill. An auspicious feeling...

On the way down I had scrolled the whole list of runners, looking for something with room to climb, and nothing had come to me the way it had yesterday.

The chill still comes through just fine...

I'd known as much looking at the short a moment ago. Staring at a stock on its way down, that cold prickle was exactly where it had always been. The sense I'd thought I'd gained—the one that could pick a rising name out of the noise—was silent.

Maybe I have to be looking at a real catalyst. Something that guarantees the surge. Maybe it needs some other condition.

I shook my head and shut my eyes.

Maybe it only wakes when the gain on offer is far bigger than even twenty percent.

Conditions on the ability were entirely possible. The thing had grown in the first place because I'd seen my sister happy. The likeliest answer was that it needed a trigger.

Shame. If it fired whenever I wanted, the money would come a little easier.

The heart that had been pounding the moment I boarded—ready to sniff out a name about to explode—settled back into its ordinary rhythm.

App's already open. Might as well scalp a little.

A phone was awkward, no getting around that. Still, if there was money to be made in a spare stretch of time, I ought to make it.

Tap!