A few weeks into my strange new apprenticeship with Mr. Choi, things started to click. Not in a "now I'm a Wall Street genius" kind of way, but more like the blurry numbers on his charts were finally starting to look less like chicken scratch and more like… a language. He'd point to a spike in volume here, a dip in price there, and mumble about "market sentiment" or "resistance levels." I was still mostly fetching his tea and sorting through dusty newspapers, but I was listening. Man, was I listening.
One afternoon, after I'd successfully explained (mostly by parroting his own earlier words) why a particular chemical company's stock was probably going to stagnate for a while, he looked at me, really looked at me, with those sharp, assessing eyes.
"Alright, boy," he said, reaching into his wallet. He pulled out a crisp 500,000 won note – not a fortune, but more money than I currently had to my name from my café job. "You think you're so smart now. Put this where your mouth is."
I stared at the money. "Sir?"
"Your first real trade," he grunted. "My money. You pick the stock – Korean, something you think has potential right now, based on what you've supposedly learned here, not just what you dream about at night. Explain your reasoning. We watch it. You make the call to buy, the call to sell." He leaned back. "Don't lose it all on day one, or you're back to just cleaning my ashtrays."
Half a million won. It wasn't life-changing money, but it felt heavy. This was a test. A real one. My mind immediately raced through the names I knew from my unique vantage point. Daum Communications, where I'd already parked my tiny café savings, was an obvious long-term hold. But for this, for a trade under Mr. Choi's eye, I needed something more immediate, something I could justify with his principles.
"There's… SK Telecom, sir," I said, my mind working. "The government is pushing for broader internet adoption. They're laying down more infrastructure. Mobile phone penetration is still growing fast. Their position seems solid for near-term growth, even with new competition trying to chip away." I spouted some more of the fundamental analysis Mr. Choi favored, trying to sound like I wasn't just pulling it from decades in the future.
He nodded slowly. "Sensible. Boring, but sensible. Not the move of a gambler. Fine. Research it properly tonight. We talk specifics tomorrow."
That evening, I was at the small, local library, which had a couple of surprisingly decent (for the year 2000) internet-connected PCs. The connection was dial-up, slow as molasses, pages loading line by painful line, but it was a window. I wasn't just researching SK Telecom for Mr. Choi. My other, unconventional knowledge was restless. There were other plays, faster plays.
While digging through old financial forums – clunky, text-based things from the dawn of the Korean internet – I stumbled upon discussions. Not just about stock fundamentals, but about… techniques. Whispers. One recurring theme was about how, in these early days of online trading and less sophisticated regulatory oversight, information could move markets dramatically, especially smaller-cap stocks.
There was this one company, a small biotech firm called NeoPharm. A faint memory surfaced. They had a promising but unproven drug candidate. I vaguely recalled they had a period of incredible hype, a massive, short-lived spike around late this year or early next based on some preliminary trial results that later proved to be overblown. The spike was enough to make a killing if you timed it right.
But then I saw a thread discussing a different angle. It wasn't about the drug itself. It was about how easily rumors, positive rumors, could be seeded on these early internet message boards. Back then, there wasn't much fact-checking. Anonymity was king. A well-placed series of "insider tips" about "imminent breakthrough news" or "a pending buyout by a bigger pharmaceutical" across a few key forums, just before you bought in low… well, that could create its own momentum. It wasn't strictly illegal like hacking into a corporate system, not quite. It was more… grey. A loophole in a system still figuring itself out. Pump and dump, in its infant, dial-up form.
A shiver went down my spine. It was an ugly thought. But undeniably effective, if it worked.
I remembered a line from Machiavelli, from 'The Prince,' something I'd skimmed in college: "The vulgar crowd always is taken by appearances, and the world consists chiefly of the vulgar." Harsh, but was it wrong? People believed what they wanted to believe, what sounded exciting, what promised quick riches. If you fed them the right story…
Playing it safe with SK Telecom and Mr. Choi's money could net a decent, respectable profit over a few weeks or months. Maybe 10%, 20% if I was lucky. It would impress him, probably. Solid, dependable.
But NeoPharm… if I could get in before a rumor-fueled spike, and that rumor was one I helped… cultivate? The potential returns could be double, triple, maybe more, in a matter of days. It was dirty. It was manipulative.
The part of me that recalled past stagnation, the countless moments of feeling powerless, felt a strong pull towards this kind of agency, this kind of decisive action. That part was tired of playing by rules that often seemed rigged anyway.
Then again, what was "wrong," really? I'd seen enough to know that big players bent rules constantly. They just had better resources to cover their tracks or spin the narrative. It was all a game of who told the better story, wasn't it? Why shouldn't I try to write one for a change, if it served a greater purpose – helping my family, securing Hana's future?
A cold, hard knot of ambition settled in my gut. SK Telecom was the "good" play, the one I'd present to Mr. Choi, using the logic he appreciated. But NeoPharm… NeoPharm could be my own gambit. A much bigger, much faster step towards the kind of capital that would mean true freedom.
I understood the need for discretion. This wasn't something to be discussed, not with Mr. Choi, perhaps not with anyone. But the idea had taken root. My mind, always good at finding patterns and planning strategies , was already starting to work on the angles. The path ahead was becoming clearer, even if parts of it lay in shadow. This first official trade, with Mr. Choi's money, would be an important lesson. And the other, private one… that could be the beginning of something much, much bigger.