Chapter 7
Chapter 7
I couldn’t take my eyes off the TV screen.
If there had been beer in my mouth, it would have spilled out.
Team leader felt the same.
She was staring blankly at the screen.
A 200 billion won supply contract?
I had not expected this news at all.
Compared to Samhyun Electronics, the scale was smaller, but KS Semiconductor was still a global company.
Landing such a contract wouldn’t have been easy.
In Korea, big corporations treat bullying as the default. Companies suing a giant would usually struggle to maintain other deals.
Implicitly, large firms dominate small firms.
So Sammi Semiconductor delivering 200 billion meant it had a unique advantage others didn’t.
The litigating Samhyun couldn’t receive supplies due to pride, but KS Semiconductor, unrelated, couldn’t refuse.
And naturally, that advantage must be technology.
“Two hundred billion isn’t insignificant, right?”
“….”
“Team leader?”
“Uh… yeah. What did you say?”
“I mean, 200 billion is not bad, right?”
“Of course.”
She looked stunned, clearly surprised.
“It’ll rise tomorrow, right?”
“Isn’t that obvious? Did you know they were supplying?”
“No? Of course not. How would I know?”
“Right, you wouldn’t.”
“Let’s have a drink. It’ll probably rise tomorrow.”
“Alright.”
She mixed our soju-and-beer.
“If it hits the limit-up tomorrow, lunch is on you.”
“Yes!”
We clinked glasses, happy.
Kim Yuri returned home.
“Miss, you’re back?”
“Have you eaten?”
The house staff greeted her politely.
“Yes, I have.”
“And father?”
“Chairman’s in the study.”
Yuri knocked lightly and peeked into the study.
“I’m home.”
“You’re late.”
“There was a company dinner.”
“A dinner? With an intern? Just the two of you?”
“Yes.”
Kim Tae-sung’s displeased expression deepened.
“We’re not that kind of relationship, don’t worry.”
“Worry? Pfft.”
“Ah, you cut hiring slots this time…”
“Due to poor performance, of course.”
“No other motives?”
“What other motives? I’m doing it purely for the company.”
Yuri nodded.
“Yes. I’ll think so too. My father wouldn’t… be petty or cowardly with hidden agendas. The chairman of Mirae Group is absolutely not that kind of person.”
She emphasized each word, staring at him intently.
Kim Tae-sung quickly changed the subject.
“Won’t you replenish Team 9 staff? Hire quickly. How long will you two work alone?”
“….”
“Ahem, it’s for the company’s sake. Team 9 must boost performance so Mirae Securities’ profits increase.”
“I already posted to accept applications starting tomorrow.”
“Good. Go rest. You must be tired.”
“Yes.”
Yuri flopped onto her bed, relieved.
She assumed her warning would prevent her father from meddling further.
Next, she had to restore the reduced intern slots—a difficult task.
To overturn the chairman’s decision, she needed a solid reason, and there wasn’t one.
‘The only way… is for Deok-su to come first.’
Initially impossible, now not.
She had a slight hope that Deok-su could claim first place.
First investment: 500% return.
Second: about 700%.
Third: Sammi Semiconductor, expected to rise tomorrow.
Deok-su’s investments.
The first two were personal, not counted in mock trading. But Sammi Semiconductor’s performance would be considered.
At least a 20% gain expected.
How much did he buy?
Exact rate unknown, but at least 20%.
Could even hit the limit-up.
“Ah, how much did he buy?”
She hadn’t asked about the investment amount.
Another all-in?
Probably not.
She resisted texting—after work, contacting a superior wasn’t polite.
She pondered Deok-su’s investments. At first glance, it seemed luck.
But luck three times in a row? No.
It was skill.
Yet it was hard to understand.
Skill usually comes from repeated practice.
Exceptions exist, but generally: repetition builds expertise; some masters become legends.
That’s the law.
Deok-su was none of that.
He was nearly a financial novice, with no opportunity to build skill.
All-in purchases.
Instinct over data.
Actions typical of beginners.
Yet, extraordinary returns.
‘An unconventional genius?’
A prodigy who defies expectations… but she shook her head.
“No, too early to judge.”
Only three investments so far. Not enough data to evaluate him.
Still, one thing was certain.
Deok-su had the heart of a beast—a strong, unshakable mental.
Yuri knew that since the military.
Next morning, 8:30 a.m.
My heart raced as I waited for the market to open.
How much would it rise?
Would it really hit the limit-up?
I was almost frantic.
I couldn’t focus.
Even before the open, I repeatedly checked the Sammi Semiconductor stock screen.
This had to stop.
To succeed as an investor, I needed composure—not reacting to every spike or dip.
I had to be like a stone Buddha.
I opened a report from the team leader about short selling and short squeezes.
Reading it calmed my mind.
“What are you doing?”
Team leader stood behind me, just back from a meeting.
“Reading a report.”
“Really? I thought you’d be glued to the Sammi screen.”
“To succeed in investing, you must control your mental state. I was calming myself.”
“Good… very good. Mental strength is the most important in trading. Well done.”
She patted my head.
What was this?
“Team leader… why are you patting my head?”
She seemed flustered, embarrassed, face red to the ears.
“Uh… sorry.”
“Ah, no problem.”
A brief, awkward silence.
“Anyway… how much will it rise?”
“Wait and see.”
“Right.”
I continued reading.
After a while, she said:
“Deok-su, the market’s opening.”
“Yes.”
9 a.m.—market opened.
And…
“Limit-up!! Incredible!!”
She jumped from her seat, ecstatic, voice full of joy.
I remained calm, watching the monitor.
But inside, adrenaline surged.
First limit-up. The thrill, dopamine surging, exhilarating. Earning money was extraordinary.
“How much did you invest?”
“One hundred million won.”
“What? All-in again?”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“Deok-su, there’s such a thing as staggered buying. All-in is risky. Next time, consider splitting your purchase.”
I answered politely, but with my scent-based ability, splitting purchases wasn’t necessary.
“What now?”
“I’ll wait and observe.”
“Right. Selling is harder than buying. Decide carefully.”
I was already considering when to sell. No scent yet—so I waited.
Next day.
Sammi Semiconductor opened 15% higher.
I sensed the pleasant scent.
‘Sell.’
I sold all.
Checked the amount: 149.55 million won.
Return: 49%.
Enough to aim for first place in mock trading. Admission might be easier than expected.
Then I logged into my personal account, selling all.
Balance: 92 million won.
Principal: 49 million.
Profit: 23 million.
Plus 20 million reserved for my parents.
Momentarily wondered—what if I’d invested that 20 million too?
Shook my head.
Promises to oneself must be kept. Only then can one survive in trading.
I congratulated myself for not risking the 20 million.
That afternoon, Sammi Semiconductor closed up 2% from yesterday.
“Deok-su, what did you do with Sammi?”
“Already settled. At 15% rise.”
“Wow.”
She looked astonished.
“That was the peak, right? How did you know the optimal time? You turned selling into an art. Art!”
“Not art. Just luck.”
“Seems like more than luck?”
Her eyes squinted curiously.
I had nothing more to say.
Smiled faintly, returned gaze to monitor.
Feeling the thrill.
Alarm woke me. 4:30 a.m.
Sleepy, but I sprang up.
Brushed quickly, wore running shorts and vest.
Stepped outside; crisp dawn air awakened me.
Stretched my stiff muscles.
“Can reach before 6.”
Started running.
Destination: company.
About 10 km from home—one hour.
Brought yesterday’s change of clothes.
Running strengthened mind and body.
Traders face extreme stress: early mornings to late nights, performance pressure, endless competition, reports.
Team leader too, but other employees’ expressions made it obvious.
Mental and physical strength are essential.
Running was ideal.
No need for extra time—running to the office sufficed.
Twenty minutes in, Han River Park appeared.
Surprisingly many early risers.
Increased pace.
Refreshing air swept away yesterday’s stress.
Arrived at office.
Showered in gym, then went upstairs.
Team leader hadn’t arrived yet.
I summarized overnight events and U.S. market reports.
She arrived, wearing her usual black jacket.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, early today.”
She checked her monitor, reviewing last night’s unusual events.
Stretched, arms up.
“Deok-su, meeting at 8.”
“Coffee?”
“I’ll get it.”
“I’ll go.”
“No, you did a good job preparing reports. I’ll buy.”
“Thank you.”
We drank coffee and began a pre-market meeting.
“U.S. market rose 1%, U.K. and France rose… semiconductor sector looks strong, petrochemicals weak… pharma promising… your thoughts?”
“….”
A week into the market, a novice like me couldn’t answer.
Team leader chuckled.
“See, Salarion in pharma has too much short interest.”
“Oh, but tech is good?”
“True, but too many shorts. Hard to rise. If it rises, it’ll spike massively—short squeeze.”
‘Buy Salarion?’
Pleasant scent hit my nose.