SK Asset 5

"What is this?"

Choi Seonggi had come by Attorney Jeong Byeonghwan's office, and Jeong held out a plain white envelope.

"The organizations Chairman Cha Wonseok used to support sent these, once they heard you meant to keep the donations going."

Inside were two boxes. One held crude pens and hairpins, keychains cobbled together from little dolls, refrigerator magnets shaped like figurines, and more of the same. The other was packed with hundreds of invitations to a charity walk for people with disabilities, each printed with the words Into the Future, Together.

"Every one of those was made by hand, they tell me. Souvenirs offered with the greatest sincerity those people have to give."

Seonggi had been looking over the clumsy little things, and his expression turned solemn.

The charity walk would be a hard one to attend.

"Taking them with me sits heavy. I don't even have anyone to give them to. It's awkward."

"I imagine so. I'm in the same spot."

As he said it, Attorney Jeong pointed to another paper envelope resting beside the desk.

People with disabilities, who had to find work somehow, earn money, and go on living like everyone else. What they made was crude beyond words. Throwing any of it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠away was unthinkable. And yet, taking it home, there was nowhere it would actually be used.

"This isn't something you settle just by sending money. They labor to make these things, and still a sales channel is nearly impossible to open. There's no demand—only supply. And they can't simply stop. This is the best they can do."

"Is there no way to build a route to sell them?"

"Hard to say."

"If it means hiring people, I'll put up more money."

"Money won't solve it. The social system has to be there to hold it up."

The weight didn't lift, but Attorney Jeong was probably right.

"Keep them safe, and hand them out later wherever they're needed."

"I will."

It was the first time receiving a gift had left his heart heavy.

"President Choiiii!"

At that moment the office door burst open, and President Lee Gukjin came in with both arms spread wide and swept Choi Seonggi into a hug.

"What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? You're my lucky charm!"

"Ho-ho, President Lee, you're far too excited. That's terrible for your blood pressure!"

"Attorney Jeong! Did you hear? Do you have any idea how much this friend of ours made this time?"

"The short sale came through? I saw on the news that the Yujin Semiconductor contract with T-Solar fell apart, so I figured you at least hadn't lost money."

"Lost money? Listen to yourself! Two hundred and forty billion! Two hundred and forty billion!"

"What? How much?"

"This man made two hundred and forty billion won!"

"Ah..."

Attorney Jeong Byeonghwan swayed as if the room had spun. Choi Seonggi caught him and lowered him into a chair.

"President Lee!"

Seonggi fixed Lee Gukjin with a glare.

"Huh? What?"

"Are you planning to shout this on every street corner?"

"N-no... I'm only shouting because it's in front of Attorney Jeong. Where else would I go running my mouth?"

Seated in the chair, Jeong Byeonghwan could only gape.

"I-is it true? You really made two hundred and forty billion won? In a matter of days? It hasn't even been a week!"

His face and his voice had passed disbelief, passed absurdity, and arrived somewhere near a crisis of faith in life itself.

"It won't be quite that much."

"See? President Lee and that habit of exaggerating... tsk."

"Once you take out the fees and the rest of it, it'll be a little over two hundred billion."

"Two hundred and forty billion or two hundred billion—what's the difference!"

And why did that sound like he was blaming me?

"Was GJ Asset the firm on television, the one that made a killing on the short this time?"

"Strictly speaking, this man made it. Outsiders wouldn't know that. Refusing interview requests has already been exhausting enough."

Jeong Byeonghwan stared at Choi Seonggi, looking utterly dumbfounded.

"What on earth do you do? How do you make two hundred billion overnight?"

"I was just lucky."

When Seonggi had bullheadedly insisted on shorting, Jeong had simply thought the man had lost his mind. He had half expected that fourteen percent stake in Gwangmyeong Corporation to vanish into thin air. Earning two hundred billion in a few days was not something he could make himself believe.

"It isn't luck! You've got something, haven't you? Tell us straight! Between us, you ought to share at least this much."

Even Lee Gukjin closed in, pressing the question.

"Didn't I tell you to follow me in when I shorted?"

"Ahem!... And how was I supposed to follow that? No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like pure insanity."

"Exactly. Even if I told you, do you really think you could follow?"

"It depends on where the information comes from. On how far you can trust it..."

"It's a feeling. An instinctive feeling."

What else would you call the ability to see the truth, if not a feeling and an instinct?

"Speaking of which... what do I have to do if I want to trade futures?"

"You want to do what?"

Lee Gukjin's face twisted. He had already been speechless when Seonggi announced the short. Hearing that he meant to get into futures on top of it was enough to knock the wind clean out of him.

Futures were, for instance, the method by which an industrial firm that needed copper bought it in advance at a fair price, bracing for a stretch of violent swings. When institutions traded them, it was usually to hedge risk.

Individuals, on the other hand, mostly did it as speculation—one big score. The risk was so large that if you went down, you went down completely.

"One of our people said they wanted to try futures, so..."

"No! Absolutely not! Futures don't just eat your principal. You go stone broke. Are we talking about doing this as a private individual? Or is the company itself getting into futures?"

"Well, we'd start ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on a personal level, and once we're a little used to it, move it up to the company, I suppose?"

"Haaaaah... Listen carefully, President Choi. At GJ Asset there isn't an investment we haven't tried, from stocks to funds! And do you know the one thing we don't touch? Futures! The risk is too big! Put one foot wrong and the company is gone. We're not talking a hundred billion, two hundred billion. Trillions can evaporate in an instant. Futures—never! Don't even think about them."

Seonggi, who had been watching Lee Gukjin in silence, nodded.

"Understood. We'll leave it."

"Tsk, tsk. That man really ought to know when to ease up on the tall tales."

Watching the news, Choi Seonggi clicked his tongue. The one who had actually placed the short was his own SK Asset and no one else, yet GJ Asset, stepping out as its proxy, was standing in the spotlight, and President Lee Gukjin was being lifted to the same tier as Warren Buffett and Charlie Munger.

The money put into the short had been turned into cash and deposited in SK Asset's account. It was a sum past imagining. The number was so large that becoming immensely rich didn't feel real.

"You don't feel it until you can see the money."

If there was one good thing, it was that he had become wealthy enough to hand generous sums to the people around him—Secretary Na Dohyung, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of course, and Madam Go, Director Shim, Attorney Jeong, President Lee Gukjin—and still have plenty left over.

That thing Cha Jiyeon had wanted so badly to attend. The Meeting. It had paid off handsomely. Enough that if it were held every day, he would want to be there every day. Next time, no matter what happened, he would stay longer and drink in every conversation around him. Yujin Semiconductor was a major corporation, market value and revenue reaching thirty trillion won, but even so it only sat around thirtieth. And The Meeting was littered with jackpots like Samsung and Hyundai, wasn't it?

Seonggi had just confirmed that Cha Yohan was heading out for a walk with Moneyball and settled into the study when the phone went off.

"Yes, go ahead. Miss Cha Jiyeon!"

"I have to go to an alumni meeting too?"

Wait.

According to the background he had already dug up, Cha Jiyeon had come out of a SKY business school, one of the three universities at the top of Korean academia. She had also gone as an exchange student to the University of Pennsylvania. The Wharton School, famous the world over.

Which meant that alumni gathering would be full of the brains of the Korean business world, chaebol families included. Even if it wasn't that chaebol Meeting, it meant information he could use.

"If I don't go, that'll put you in a difficult spot, won't it? In a situation like that, can I really sit it out as your husband?"

"I can't have you sitting there all alone, looking out of place. If they're that eager to see me, I'll go."

Cha Jiyeon's voice had brightened.

"Please let me end up sitting next to someone who never shuts up."

Ordinarily he hated chatterboxes enough to loathe them, but his thinking had changed. Talkative sons of chaebol houses, clever types showing off—all of them were welcome. To Choi Seonggi, every one of them was as good as a pipeline of money.

"Yeah. A car like this is just right for young people like us."

"These days there isn't much of a gap between a Hyundai and a foreign car. Fully loaded, the Korean one actually costs more."

"That's a good thing! So? How's it drive?"

"Smooth enough to surprise me. The Lincoln Continental was heavy. This one's light on its feet, and still stable."

"I'll have to take it out myself sometime."

"Please do, sir."

He had told Na Dohyung to buy a sedan and an SUV, and the man had come back with a Genesis and a Palisade. Both were Hyundai models. Set against the Lincoln Continental limousine they had been riding in, the drive was light and silky. Even from the back seat, the ride was quite good. He would take this car when he went home later.

Should he replace his father's twenty-year-old Grandeur while he was at it? His father had bought it used thirteen years ago, treasured it, and driven it all this time without so much as a minor breakdown. It was a little sad, but he decided to leave it be for now and watch.

"Uh, sir."

"Yeah. What is it?"

"Have you studied some kind of martial art?"

"Just a little of this and that?"

"I hold a twentieth-dan composite black belt in mixed martial arts."

"Wow. Secretary Na, and here you were supposed to be impressive. Twentieth dan, and five punks still managed to bloody both your nostrils?"

"No, that's not— Anyway, after training at that level, I can tell at a glance whether I can beat someone or not."

"And?"

"The strange thing is, with you, sir, I don't feel as if I could win."

"..."

Choi Seonggi was quietly watching Na Dohyung in the rearview mirror. The moment their eyes met, a chill prickled up the back of Na Dohyung's neck.

"You know why?"

"I'm asking because I don't."

At that, Choi Seonggi let out a short laugh.

"You learned martial arts, Secretary Na. Martial arts aren't a fight where you live or die. Once you've been through real combat—killing, and being killed—it changes you. What dan you hold stops meaning anything in a real fight."

"..."

It was a terrifying thing to say. If some ordinary brawler had said it, Na Dohyung would have laughed. But he had seen the bullet scars along Choi Seonggi's side and thigh, and he had heard the story of Black Mamba, the National Intelligence Service's legendary black-ops agent. Perhaps that was why his body ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠began to tremble.

It was also true that most of his opponents had been beneath his level. And, just as Seonggi said, Na Dohyung had never fought a fight where losing meant death. His heart hammered, and his whole body shook. Thank goodness they were nearly at the destination. A moment's lapse and he might have caused an accident.

"Good work, Secretary Na. Go get yourself some dinner somewhere, and a cup of tea! I'll call you later."

"Yes, sir!"

Choi Seonggi stepped out of the car and started toward the hotel restaurant where they were meeting.

"Oppa?"

Seonggi startled so hard he froze where he stood. From behind him had come a voice that was painfully familiar. A voice he had missed.

"S-Sunyoung!"

When he turned, she was there. The woman who had been his girlfriend for five years. The woman he had wanted so desperately to hold on to that he would have staked everything he had. The person he had longed for—the very one who, because of that longing, had driven his life all the way to the bottom.

Oh Sunyoung was standing there.