Digging the Hard Ground
Seventeenth floor of LK Telecom Headquarters.
The tea lounge adjoining the president’s office.
Beyond the wide windows, fine dust had blurred the city’s outline into a faint haze that afternoon.
President Choi Kangho and Vice President Song Jiseok sat across a teapot, exchanging light conversation.
“Have you seen the materials on the new AI set-top box ST Telecom released yesterday?” Song Jiseok opened first.
“Whether they were aiming at us or not, they priced it exactly two thousand won cheaper than ours.”
Choi Kangho gave a short nod, then lifted his cup and took a sip. A subtle herbal fragrance filled his mouth.
He continued.
“Baek Jonghyun looks like a man in a hurry. In uncertain times like these, stable quality beats showpiece features every time. Sell cheap and watch the service complaints pile up—the losses come back twice as hard.”
“Quality reviews are already mixed. Device response speed and compatibility issues are being talked about in a few communities.”
Choi Kangho gave a light snort and set the cup down.
“ST is always like that. Fast on the surface, weak foundations underneath.”
“We should keep steering toward substance rather than spectacle.”
“Exactly. This is a long game. Anything that’s only flashy peels off soon enough.”
“Wise words, sir.”
Knock-knock!
The sound of knuckles on the door came, and the chief secretary entered carefully, bowing with polite formality.
“What is it?”
At Choi Kangho’s question the chief secretary answered without hesitation.
“There was a notable development at this morning’s headquarters meeting that I wished to report.”
“A notable development?”
Choi Kangho’s eyebrows rose slightly.
“Yes. Assistant Manager Noh Hoojin of Marketing Team 3 pointed out structural problems that cut across every department and took the lead in the presentation. He even put forward an improvement proposal for the technology center’s communication protocols. Word is that Chief Researcher Yoon Junghyuk reacted personally and invited Assistant Manager Noh to an internal test meeting.”
The hand that had been raising the cup to Choi Kangho’s lips stopped mid-air.
“Yoon Junghyuk? That fellow they say is the most promising one at the tech center right now?”
Song Jiseok also lifted his head a fraction. It was a name he had heard often enough through LK Telecom’s close ties.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Hmm… From what I recall, that young man has a rather exacting personality… So the presentation was impressive enough for that?”
When Song Jiseok asked with open curiosity, the chief secretary gave a crisp nod.
“We’re currently compiling the meeting materials and transcripts. Positive reactions among the working-level staff are numerous. On the other hand, a few team-leader-level people have raised strong objections—”
“Hold on.”
Choi Kangho raised a hand and cut him off.
“Did you say Noh Hoojin?”
“Yes, sir.”
The chief secretary glanced at his expression for a moment before continuing.
“The employee who saved you, sir, and who performed so well on the Han Yojung advertising project.”
“I see.”
Choi Kangho’s mouth curved into a meaningful smile.
The Han Yojung campaign had barely finished, and already the name Noh Hoojin was being spoken again. Interest was inevitable.
“The moment that report is ready, bring it straight to me.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll deliver it as soon as it’s prepared.”
The chief secretary withdrew, and a brief silence settled.
Choi Kangho gazed out the window and spoke slowly.
“A company sometimes needs someone to dig into the hard ground before it can run properly.”
“Exactly right, sir.”
Knowing Choi Kangho’s temperament better than anyone, Song Jiseok answered with a quiet smile.
“Noh Hoojin… the more I see of him, the more interesting he becomes.”
Choi Kangho murmured the words almost to himself, a look of satisfaction on his face.
A vague sense rose that their connection would not end here.
A few days later.
The Home AI Project underway at the company began to move forward smoothly.
Given how quiet things had become—when complaints should have been flying—it was clear some directive had come down from above.
Thanks to that, I was able to draw closer to the working-level staff, and communication flowed more freely than before.
Before I knew it, two full weeks had passed since Junseok and I started trading coins.
During the day I shifted seed money into stocks and rode A-Tech Solution’s upward surge; before the market closed I sold the shares and moved everything back into coins to lock in further gains.
In those two weeks alone the profit came to a full three hundred thirty million won.
Added to the assets I already held, the total sat at roughly five hundred fifty million.
It was an enormous sum—more money than I had ever imagined touching in my life.
But the pattern that had repeated for a week now had to stop.
A-Tech Solution had climbed past four hundred thousand won.
We had reached the target zone; it was time to look for the next stock. Until then I planned to keep the capital turning over in coins.
Of course the market was irregular and the risk of losing the seed money remained high, so caution was essential.
Coins must never become the main engine of income.
I also felt the need to build a more generous seed fund.
Even if the total reached eight hundred million, I had no intention of buying a building right away.
My mother’s shop still had about a year left on its rent and lease contract, so there was no immediate need to purchase property.
Then a problem appeared.
The flow of world affairs.
As always, I analyzed the market with a cold eye.
I was not merely watching numbers rise and fall.
I was reading the current beneath the numbers.
Overall investment sentiment is contracting.
The United States had begun imposing high tariffs on key industrial sectors under the banner of protecting domestic interests.
On the surface they spoke of fair trade; underneath lay the recovery of domestic production and the containment of other nations. Countermeasures from Europe and major Asian countries piled on top of that, and global trade conflict was now fully underway.
Relations between the United States and China in particular had plunged to their worst point in history.
When supply chains shake, raw-material costs climb and the burden is passed to companies. Companies then raise product prices to cover the damage, and in the end the consumers are the ones who suffer.
I pulled up the major indices of the United States, China, and the EU side by side and analyzed their interlocking patterns.
Markets that once reacted only to American bad news now trembled at even minor reports of global conflict.
This is not the problem of a single country. It is omnidirectional.
Armed clashes in the Middle East, the hair-trigger situation between China and Taiwan, forced regime changes in South America—the word “war” no longer felt strange in news headlines.
With the entire world entering an unstable phase, asset markets had no choice but to grow hypersensitive.
Stocks and coins were no exception. Regulatory risk, exchange-rate volatility, and shrinking investor psychology stacked together; poorly managed companies and certain altcoins were already punching through the floor.
In times like these, a stable job and cash on hand were the safest holdings.
“What do you think?”
“Well…”
At my question Junseok propped his chin on his hand and sank into thought.
We had finished lunch and, for the first time in a while, come out to the living room to watch the news together.
The market had been so turbulent that simply observing it had left us with a little breathing room.
After a week of nonstop activity, it was also a good moment to rest.
“Too unstable for shorting, and gold has already soared beyond control. The more chaotic the market, the more opportunities there are—but I don’t think we need to take that kind of risk just to invest.”
Junseok answered with surprising composure.
It was a side of him I had never seen before.
Perhaps a stable environment was slowly changing him.
“Unexpected. I thought you’d be itching to jump right in.”
“I’ve been burned a few times already… Ah, this would be perfect for startup investing. There have to be plenty of companies gasping for capital right now. If we invest, we could demand pretty favorable terms.”
“Oh? I thought you only knew coins. That’s unexpected too.”
“I look into how the world is moving, at least a little.”
The fact that Junseok was already thinking about the same startup investments I had in mind caught me off guard.
This guy’s pretty sharp, isn’t he? Well, he always had a quick mind even back in university.
Trading coins would have forced him to study economics as well.
Of course, a sharp mind alone did not guarantee profits in coins.
“I was planning to look into startup investments later myself. But right now securing capital comes first.”
“Got something specific in mind?”
Junseok looked at me with open curiosity.
“A few ideas, but I need to research them further. I’ll send you a coin list this evening—trade defensively for a while. That doesn’t mean we’ll take losses.”
“In this market?”
“Yeah. We won’t take losses. I’m heading out for a bit. You should get some sleep too.”
I took the coat hanging on the wall hook.
“Where are you going?”
“To broaden my horizons a little.”
I gave him a small smile and left the house.
Current free capital: five hundred fifty million won.
I had been balancing a full-time job with investing, yet this felt like a moment that called for something more.
Leaving the apartment, I went straight to the subway and headed for my usual bookstore.
When my head felt cluttered or I needed fresh ideas, nothing beat browsing a wide range of books.
Riding the subway, I sorted my thoughts.
My main sources of income currently numbered three.
One was the fixed monthly salary; the other two were stocks and coins.
If I wanted to found and run a company of my own for profit, two obstacles stood in the way.
First, the stable salary would stop. Second, I lacked both the technology and the capital required to start a company.
Technology I could acquire given enough time.
If I could somehow gain access to the LK Future Technology Center, my abilities would let me absorb everything I needed. If that proved difficult, I could look elsewhere.
Of course the LK Future Technology Center remained the top priority.
That left capital.
No matter how skillfully I used my brain to make money in stocks and coins, I could never foresee natural disasters or sudden black-swan events. The risk was correspondingly high.
The present situation was exactly that.
With world affairs so unstable, I had no choice but to keep my head down.
What I needed now was a stable, fixed stream of income outside the salary.
Just then my gaze shifted forward.
Thud—thud—
I felt a slight, irregular braking from the car ahead of the subway that had been moving at a steady speed.
The effect reached my own car almost at once.
I turned my head.
Beside me stood an elderly woman, struggling to keep her balance.
I scanned the surroundings in a flash.
Behind me, a man idly staring at his smartphone; in front, high-school girls chatting; to my left, the glass door.
Judging by the grandmother’s posture and the direction of the brake, the highest probability was that she would fall straight into the glass.
Damn—!
In that instant—
Clunk!
The subway that had been gliding at constant speed suddenly jerked with a bouncing brake.
I seized the handrail at once, shifted my center of gravity, and reached for the grandmother.
The heavily stooped old woman staggered, on the verge of slamming into the glass door.
“Watch out!”
Reflexively I caught her arm and steadied her.
She did not fall, yet her face was tightly furrowed.
An elderly body. Muscles could seize from the shock; even a small impact could cause serious injury.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes… I’m fine. Thank you. My legs just gave out…”
The old woman took my hand as if apologizing for the trouble.