The next morning.
The Woojin Securities Investment Team 3 office in Yeouido was busy earlier than usual.
Even the people who had been floating on the year-end mood were visibly tense today.
Because it was the listing day of DS Danseok, the name that would crown the 2023 IPO market.
“Hey, did you see the order book? It’s insane.”
Manager Jeong shouted at his monitor. 8:40 a.m. The pre-open matching window already had waiting buy volume stacked like a mountain.
“The offering price is 100,000 won and the bid volume is already in the millions of shares. Is this really going to 400,000?”
“I know. This is the first time I’ve seen waiting volume like this in ages.”
Associate Kang Hyeona could not close her mouth either, apparently startled.
“Hey, the expected execution price has already passed 300,000. Ugh, my flesh crawls just looking at it.”
Manager Jeong scrubbed his face and let it out like a groan. Offering price 100,000 won.
And before the market had even opened, people were queuing to buy at more than three times that.
The ‘quadruple’ fever that had swept the IPO market through the second half of 2023 was burning right to the very end.
But there was one man throwing cold water into the middle of that heat. Department Head Park Geonil.
“Now, everyone get a grip! That’s all phantom volume, phantom! It drops out the second it starts.”
Department Head Park folded his arms, feigning composure, but glared at his monitor with anxious eyes.
The sting of missing EcoFree Materials had not yet faded, and now another whale of an IPO had appeared, so his defense mechanism kicked in instinctively.
The fruit he could not eat had to be a rotten fruit.
“Think about it. Does it make sense for a company with a market cap of 500, 600 billion to be worth over 2 trillion overnight? That’s pass-the-bomb, all of it. What’s there to eat going in at 300,000? The limit is 400,000, so you’d be taking on the risk of losing half to make a lousy 30%? That’s madness.”
Department Head Park’s voice boomed through the office. The team members wavered at it.
He was not wrong. The price was already sky-high. There was no guarantee anywhere that it would climb further.
If anything, if institutional profit-taking poured out right after listing, the price could plunge into the abyss in an instant.
“You’re right...... it is too expensive. I’ll just watch, I think.”
Associate Kang Hyeona smacked her lips regretfully and let go of her mouse. Manager Jeong nodded too and started to close his buy order window.
But Kim Taeseong was different.
He was quietly, meticulously preparing for war. Several order windows were open in a corner of his monitor.
‘Capital: 7.7 billion won.’
His managed funds, swollen by EcoFree Materials and the secondary-battery names, had passed the 7-billion mark at some point.
‘I can’t burn all of it.’
Taeseong judged it coldly.
Hauling everything in and slamming it down as he had before was, to a trader like Taeseong, a risk in itself.
Scraping 7.7 billion won at market in one shot could, in the thin order book of the early session, distort the price by itself.
‘4 billion. Exactly 4 billion goes in.’
A little over half.
An amount where one mistake could vaporize two Seoul apartments.
Sweat beaded on his palms.
Two minutes before the open. Taeseong took a deep breath.
‘Wopora said it goes to 400,000 without fail. So I must not be shaken by whatever happens early.’
He set up the split buy orders he had calculated in advance. Rather than firing 4 billion at once, he divided it into four lots of 1 billion, ready to catch a falling knife.
Ten seconds to go. The noise in the office subsided. Everyone held their breath and stared at their screens.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Ding!
9:00 a.m. exactly. The market opened.
“Whoa! 340,000!”
With someone’s shout, DS Danseok’s opening price was determined. 340,000 won. A start 240% above the 100,000-won offering price.
“Insane, absolutely insane. It really did start above 300,000.”
Department Head Park clicked his tongue. But no sooner had he finished than the order book began to convulse.
Blue numbers came pouring down like a waterfall. The volume of institutions and foreigners who had placed listing-day sell orders at the open, together with terrified individual investors, all burst out at once.
338,000 won...... 335,000 won...... 330,000 won......
The price slid helplessly. The red candle turned blue in an instant and stretched a long tail downward.
“See! I was right, wasn’t I? It’s falling! Falling!”
Department Head Park slapped his desk and cheered. He was as triumphant as a prophet whose prophecy had landed.
“Look at that. Every ant who went in just now is dead. How many percent in one minute? Ugh, horrific. Thank God we didn’t buy.”
Manager Jeong let out a sigh of relief too.
“Wow...... if we hadn’t listened to you, sir, we’d have been in trouble. It’s falling terrifyingly fast.”
The price was already threatening the low 320,000s. A moment ruled by fear. When everyone was shouting sell! and running.
Taeseong’s eyes shone fiercely.
‘Now.’
He pressed the mouse button without hesitation.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
Four buy orders of 1 billion won each were transmitted at half-second intervals.
[Buy order filled.]
[Buy order filled.]
328,000 won.
326,500 won.
325,000 won.
324,000 won.
Average purchase price 325,800 won. He had absorbed 4 billion won of volume in an instant. As Taeseong’s buying flowed in, the thinned bid side of the order book thickened at once.
The falling price bounced as if it had struck an invisible floor.
That became the signal flare.
Smart ants and program buying, sensing that big capital had entered, began charging in ferociously behind Taeseong.
“Huh? Huh?”
The laughter drained out of Department Head Park.
The blue chart turned red in an instant. The price, floundering in the 320,000s, broke 330,000 and recovered the 340,000 opening price in the blink of an eye.
“What? Why is it going back up?”
Manager Jeong rubbed his eyes. This was not a rebound. It was a surge.
Breaking 350,000 won.
Breaking 360,000 won.
The sell volume began to run dry. Nobody selling, only buyers clamoring. The numbers on the order book started jumping not in 1,000-won steps but in 5,000 and 10,000-won steps.
“VI triggered!”
The sharp rise triggered the volatility interruption and trading halted for two minutes.
The office was struck dumb.
“Does this make sense? It went down to 320,000 a second ago and now it’s 360,000?”
Department Head Park stood there with his mouth open. It was a phenomenon his logic could not begin to explain. As if mocking his shallow common sense, the market was dancing its dance of madness.
Taeseong studied his monitor calmly. His heart pounded, but his hands did not shake.
‘Not yet. The target is 400,000.’
After two minutes of stillness, trading resumed.
380,000 won.
Starting with a gap, the price had nothing in its way. Nobody was pressing the sell button now. Everyone knew there was only one destination at this pace.
390,000 won...... 395,000 won......
And at 9:05.
The highest point on the order book. It reached the price ceiling, the daily limit.
[Current price 400,000 won (+300%)]
Sell volume: 0 shares.
Bid volume: 2,000,000 shares.
The door had closed.
A quadruple.
The moment legend became reality.
“Wow...... it actually went.”
Someone’s awed gasp broke the silence of the office.
“It really went...... 400,000 won......”
One of the very few quadruples in IPO history, and the one that crowned the end of 2023.
A 100,000-won stock had turned into a 400,000-won banknote in the five minutes after nine.
Taeseong looked at his trading screen and let out a deep breath.
[Total valuation P&L: +912,480,000 won]
[Return: +22.76%]
The tension drained from his legs and he sank deep into his chair. The sweat he had poured out in the sauna yesterday, the dry chicken breast he had chewed down for three days, the hunger he had endured night after night. It felt as if all of it had been repaid by this one number.
‘I did it.’
Taeseong clenched his fist. Hidden under the desk, that fist trembled.
Just then, Department Head Park’s shrill voice struck Taeseong’s ear.
“No, this insane market, honestly! Why is this going limit-up! It makes no sense, no sense at all!”
Department Head Park tore at his hair. He seemed unable to bear the envy. A lottery missed right in front of his eyes. No — rage at his own stupidity for knowing the winning numbers and not buying a ticket.
He looked around as if hunting for prey and met Taeseong’s eyes.
“Hey, Assistant Manager Kim! Did you...... don’t tell me you bought?”
Department Head Park’s glare was sharp. Taeseong’s serene expression had irritated him in a curious way. Manager Jeong’s and Associate Kang Hyeona’s eyes swung to Taeseong at the same time.
Taeseong slowly raised his head. He must not show too much delight here. Something humble, but with a bone in it, was needed.
“Ah...... yes. I took a little.”
“A little? How much? How many shares did you buy?”
Department Head Park pressed him doggedly. He could have gone to his own desk and looked at the per-employee trading status, and yet he insisted on demanding it out loud.
“Just...... enough that it isn’t bad, I suppose.”
Taeseong answered deliberately flatly.
‘Bonus? That Assistant Manager Kim is lying. He made hundreds of millions at least.’
And yet there he sat with that comfortable expression.
“I was lucky. I just...... had a feeling.”
“You had a feeling, so you caught a falling knife barehanded?”
Listening to the two of them from the side, Manager Jeong felt a chill up his spine. This was not the dopey, mild Assistant Manager Kim of old.
He had thought losing weight had put some venom in him, but now the man was becoming someone else entirely.
“Damn it, get back to work! Does staring at stocks pay you?”
Even at the Department Head’s bellow Taeseong did not stir. A smile he could not hide was spreading across his lips.
Leaving his colleagues’ reactions behind, Taeseong quietly closed the trading window.
There was no need to look anymore. Two million shares of bid volume were stacked at the limit. This door was not going to open before the close today — nor tomorrow morning, most likely.
He turned his chair and looked out the window.
The Yeouido sky was still clear and cold. But the world looked a little different to Taeseong. Not the grey of a forest of buildings but something shining gold.
3:30 p.m. The limit did not break before the close.
Getting ready to leave, Taeseong headed for the copier beside the kitchenette.
He had printed the materials he needed for his report on today’s trading.
Watching the print job load, Taeseong happened to look out the window.
Christmas carols were already ringing out on the street.
Brilliant lights and decorations were lifting the year-end mood.
Taeseong murmured quietly to himself.
“So Christmas comes lumbering around again this year......”
For the past several years Christmas had been nothing to him but a cold, lonely, hungry day. But this year was different.
“Well, at least this year I got a red stocking worth 400%.”
The red candle on a stock chart. That was the finest gift not even Santa Claus could give.
“Hm, though my clothes are awfully uncomfortable lately.”
160kg and 127kg were worlds apart.
Breathing had gotten easier and the pain in his knees had eased.
The border between his jaw and his neck had begun to show, faintly, and above all the disgust he felt every time he looked in a mirror was thinning out little by little.
But an unexpected problem had arisen. His clothes.
“Ugh, sliding down again.”
Taeseong hitched up his trousers at the copier.
As the weight came off, the 4XL suit trousers he used to wear had gone far too loose.
He had tightened his belt to the innermost hole, but the trousers kept losing their fight with gravity and sliding below his hips.
The seat sagged like a loaded diaper, and the thigh sections flapped wide enough to hold two elephant legs.
The dress shirt was the same.
The collar had gone slack so a tie hung without shape, and the shoulder seams came halfway down his upper arms.
He looked like a naive schoolboy who had secretly put on his father’s oversized clothes.
“Oh my, Assistant Manager! I’m sorry.”
A startled voice came from behind him. Associate Kang Hyeona. She had caught Taeseong with his belt undone as he sorted out his waistband, and was flustered.
“Ah...... it’s that I’ve lost some weight. I need to buy new clothes, but I haven’t had the time lately......”
Making an excuse that was not much of one, Taeseong scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
There was something curiously funny about a trader who had posted overwhelming numbers this month walking around in baggy trousers because he had no money for clothes.
But going to a clothing store was still a frightening thing for Taeseong.
‘What if they don’t have my size?’
‘And asking to try things on draws looks.’
Old trauma had him by the ankle. Memories of barely being able to cross a threshold that was not a big-and-tall specialist store made him hesitate.
As if reading his mind, Kang Hyeona’s eyes brightened and she made a suggestion.
“Assistant Manager, do you have plans this evening?”
“No, nothing in particular. Other than the gym......”
“Then skip your workout for one day. Come shopping with me!”
“Shopping? With you?”
Inside Assistant Manager Kim’s head.
Dong—! Dong—! Dong—! Dong—! Dong—!
Bells rang out.
A different sound from the opening bell.
Something moister, clearer, holier than that.
Assistant Manager Kim dared to think it.
‘Maybe.’
Maybe a merry Christmas was coming for him too.