Never Forget. 1
On August 23, as the sweltering summer began to wane, the Korean government announced the full repayment of the $19.5 billion IMF bailout, marking the end of the IMF’s oversight.
The government declared the crisis over, offering solace to the citizens for their hardships and celebrating its own achievements.
Yet, despite the crisis being officially over, Korea had crossed a river it could never return from.
The concept of a lifelong job vanished, and life became measured by the weight of money.
Money became the ultimate value, and consumption transformed from a way of life into a means of flaunting wealth. The word “luxury” was replaced by “designer,” which settled naturally into everyday language.
Restructuring led to increased job insecurity, temporary employment, and income inequality, causing a sharp decline in labor income.
As wealth inequality grew, the rich got richer while the poor got poorer.
The reduced spending of the less affluent led to sluggish domestic demand, while massive liquid capital formed elsewhere. This capital, amounting to hundreds of trillions of won, shifted from the stock market to real estate after the IT boom collapsed, sparking a nationwide real estate speculation frenzy.
Of course, the current real estate frenzy is a global phenomenon.
The ultra-low interest rate policy from the U.S. flooded the market with liquidity, which flowed into the real estate market, contributing to the bubble.
But regardless of the cause, the outcome is dire.
A generation has emerged that must give up on even owning a single home.
Frankly, I wasn’t interested in the IMF recovery specials on TV. I was preoccupied with what would happen exactly 19 days later, leaving no room for anything else.
The stock charts and status boards from the U.S., Japan, and Korea filling my monitor seemed pointless, leaving me with nothing but endless hesitation and indecision.
There was one reason my hands hesitated over the keyboard and mouse.
Is it right to profit from someone else’s tragedy?
It’s a tragedy that can’t be stopped, nor should it be. Someone… no, among the tens or hundreds of thousands involved in the world of investment, someone will profit from this tragedy, while many more will lose money.
I, too, am part of this world.
I must choose a side. But I can’t choose to be on the losing side, can I? Losing money would mean deliberately walking into a trap.
I’ve already decided which side to take, but I wanted to avoid being a shameless profiteer exploiting others’ misfortunes.
Ultimately, it’s about how much money I make.
I didn’t want to reach a point where I couldn’t look myself in the mirror.
Damn it, my grandfather would have just closed his eyes and gone all in at a time like this… I’ve got a long way to go to be like him.
I steeled myself and focused on the monitor.
After checking the strike price of the put options, I typed in the numbers on the keyboard.
No point in entering a huge amount that would just skew the odds. I chose a reasonable amount that wouldn’t draw attention and placed the order.
How will these numbers change?
In the past, I wasn’t particularly interested in stocks.
So I don’t even know the stock prices from September 12, 2001. All I know is that there was a significant crash. Just common knowledge. Ten times? Twenty times? How much will it be?
I shook my head. Thinking about the money coming in already…
I reset the computer and logged in for overseas trading.
I selected Japan and entered a higher number than before.
Reset again.
The U.S. stock market and financial products, derivatives, all flashed before me, but my hesitation only grew.
I just turned off the computer.
I’ll just play defense here. This should be enough.
Tuesday, September 11.
As S.E.S and Shinhwa took turns topping the music charts, tragedy struck.
At 9 PM Korean time, as salarymen were winding down their day with soju and grilled pork belly, or beer and dried squid, the morning in America was just beginning.
At 7:59 AM, American Airlines Flight 11 took off with 92 passengers, just like any other day.
Fifteen minutes later, Boston’s control tower tried to contact Flight 11, but there was no response for over ten minutes.
Shortly after, the controller heard, “We have some planes. Just stay quiet, and you’ll be okay. We’re returning to the airport.”
And then Flight 11 disappeared from the radar over New York.
At 8:13 AM, Logan International Airport’s eastern control tower cleared United Airlines Flight 175 for takeoff. Thirty minutes later, hijackers stabbed the captain and co-pilot and took control.
At 8:46 AM, as New Yorkers hurried to work, a plane suddenly crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center.
It was American Airlines Flight 11, which had vanished from the radar.
As the North Tower burned, broadcast live around the world, at 9:03 AM, with countless eyes and cameras fixed on the building, United Airlines Flight 175 crashed into the South Tower at 872 kilometers per hour.
That day, I stayed in the office all day. Even after everyone left, I sat there, staring blankly at the TV.
History flowed unerringly, and by 10 PM, every network was broadcasting breaking news.
The news made my heart ache.
But that feeling didn’t last long.
People who had been relaxing at home or having a drink in Yeouido all rushed back to the office.
They all turned on their computers and checked their monitors, not missing a beat of the CNN updates.
By now, every manager at Miracle must have reported to work.
I pressed the intercom.
“All team leaders and above, to the conference room.”
I slowly got up and headed to the meeting room.
The room reeked of alcohol, likely from those who had rushed over after drinking.
“I assume you’ve all seen the news. That’s why you’re here at this hour.”
The people already gathered looked at me with disapproval, annoyed at being called to a meeting when every second counted.
“I’m issuing one crucial rule. Anyone who disobeys will be fired. Remember that.”
Just then, the door burst open, and Oh Se-hyun rushed in.
“Hey! Did you see the news?”
He quickly shut his mouth, the silence in the room answering his question.
“Mr. Oh, do you have anything to add?”
He was perceptive enough to understand the meaning behind my formal tone.
“No. Continue with what you were saying.”
“Alright, then.”
I looked around at the people again.
“My directive is simple. When the market opens tomorrow, act as if nothing has happened. In other words, don’t think about this incident. No sell orders.”
“What! Sir! That’s…!”
“We can’t do that. The market will crash. We need to sell as much as we can, as quickly as possible.”
As expected, there was strong opposition.
These people earn incentives based on performance. They make several times their salary in bonuses, so they must think my decision is unfair.
“Everyone, quiet! Anyone who interrupts Mr. Jin from now on will be fired on the spot! Listen to him and follow his orders!”
Oh Se-hyun’s stern shout silenced the room.
He caught my eye and winked.
“If a client requests a sale, comply. But don’t sell on your own initiative. Especially hold onto the stocks we own.”
The staff, with grim expressions, seemed to swallow their dissatisfaction.
“Especially for blue-chip stocks, keep buying until the market closes. They’ll hit rock bottom, so don’t hesitate.”
Saying more would just be repeating myself and nagging.
“I know what you’re worried about. But the market will recover before long. Just because others are panicking doesn’t mean we should follow suit. That’s all.”
As soon as I finished speaking, everyone rushed back to their stations. They needed to check the latest updates. They wouldn’t be leaving their desks until tomorrow.
Once everyone had left, only Oh Se-hyun and I remained in the conference room.
“You’re not crazy, are you?”
“I’m perfectly sane.”
“Good, then.”
Oh Se-hyun yawned and turned to leave.
“Take care. I’m heading home. See you tomorrow.”
“Is that it? Nothing else to say?”
“You’ve made the right call. I have a lot of calls to make to the U.S. I need to express my condolences and regrets. Oh, and give Rachel a call. She has a lot of acquaintances working at the World Trade Center.”
“I’ll call her in a few days. She won’t hear my condolences right now.”
“Suit yourself. Anyway, good job.”
I sat in the empty conference room for a moment, lost in thought.
Then I stood up.
There’s no time for sentimentality. It’s not over yet.
I left Yeouido and headed to Sunyang Securities.
When I repeated the same instructions at Sunyang Securities, the CEO and Vice President Jang Do-hyung looked at me incredulously.
“I’ll take full responsibility. Just follow my lead.”
“Sir, you’ve seen the news. This is a terrorist attack. The U.S. won’t stand by. They’ll go to war if they have to.”
“With whom?”
“What?”
“Who are they going to war with?”
“Well… the terrorist group, of course.”
“And if the U.S. goes to war with a mere terrorist group, what’s the likelihood of their defeat?”
Jang Do-hyung couldn’t answer.
“This is a shocking event, and we can’t avoid the ripple effects. But let’s look at this calmly. There aren’t simultaneous terrorist attacks happening all over the U.S. The American government won’t just stand by. In fact, once they start retaliating against the terrorist groups, the stock market will bounce back quickly.”
“Director, can’t we wait to make a decision until after we check the U.S. stock market?”
The president of Sunyang Securities, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up.
“The U.S. markets are closed for now. They won’t open for at least four or five days, so we need to make a decision ourselves.”
“Closed…?”
“Wall Street is the backbone of the American economy. It’s wise to avoid the storm.”
“Hmm… Vice President Jang.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s go with the director’s suggestion. When it comes to investments, he’s a few steps ahead of both you and me, isn’t he?”
The president’s experience shows with age. He may have given a brief opinion, but inside, he’s probably cheering. I’ve taken the lead in shielding us from this massive shockwave. As a member of the owner’s family and a major shareholder, I’m taking full responsibility during this risky time. How reassuring that must be for them.
Back in Yeouido, I stayed up all night glued to CNN’s breaking news. I wasn’t the only one. Last night, the lights in the large buildings of Yeouido never went out.
No one knows how this situation will unfold, so everyone stayed in their offices, preparing for whatever might come next.
I spent the entire day anxiously waiting for the markets to close.
By the time the markets closed on the 12th, the global stock markets had experienced a day that could only be described as a crash.
With long sighs, the employees gathered in small groups and headed to the sauna. A brief rest is necessary for the long battle ahead, which no one knows when will end.
Before checking today’s market close, I first looked at the results of a secret operation I conducted alone a few days ago. With slightly trembling fingers, I pulled up the results of the put options I exercised today on the monitor. My mind went blank as I saw the densely packed numbers and the commas between them.
It was dizzying.
How could this happen!