November 1, 1999.
On one side of Wall Street in Manhattan, New York—where towering skyscrapers crowded the sky—stood the office of Quantum Fund, the legendary hedge fund managed by George Soros.
Inside a private office overlooking the curtain of skyscrapers through a wide window, Rodney, the Chief Investment Officer of Quantum Fund, sat stiffly at his desk, staring intently at his monitors.
The pale glow from three screens cast an eerie light across the room. On them, the stock indices blazed in bright green arrows, showing another day of sharp increases.
[S&P 500: 1,361.71 (▲ 51.33)]
[NASDAQ: 3,821.20 (▲ 130.53)]
[DJI: 10,738.92 (▲ 121.11)]
"Damn it," Rodney muttered under his breath.
Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his face harshly, his nerves visibly frayed. Loosening his tie out of frustration, he turned his gaze back to the monitors—only to see the same relentless climb. All three major indices continued to burn bright green, tracing upward curves on the charts.
"This doesn't make sense. At this point, the bubble should've already burst. So why the hell are the indices still climbing?"
Rodney's face twisted in frustration as he stared at the incomprehensible movements of the market.
Two years ago, when David Stanway, the Chairman of the Federal Reserve, sharply raised interest rates and warned of "irrational exuberance," both the S&P 500 and the Dow Jones Industrial Average had already reached price-to-earnings ratios as high as those seen just before the Great Depression in October 1929.
Yet instead of falling, the three major indices only climbed faster and higher, inflating the bubble even further. Convinced that such an overheated market would soon collapse, Rodney had boldly sold off his IT stocks and taken a short position.
He was certain the bubble would burst any day now.
But despite every economic indicator flashing red, the three indices continued to skyrocket, mocking his conviction as they hit record highs day after day.
Whenever it seemed the market might pause for breath, it surged again. And whenever profit-taking appeared to signal the start of a correction, leading tech stocks set new all-time highs, driving him to despair.
Sinking deep into his leather chair, Rodney stared blankly at the monitors, his eyes void of confidence, and muttered to himself,
"…Was my judgment wrong?"
His voice carried not its usual firmness but a heavy blend of regret and unease.
Every day the indices rose, his losses grew by the hundreds of thousands—sometimes millions—of dollars. His cumulative losses from short positions had already reached tens of millions.
What tormented him even more was the contrast: while he struggled under mounting losses, El Dorado Fund, led by Seok-won, was riding the dot-com wave with staggering profits.
Rodney had always seen Seok-won as a rival, and watching his rival's investments soar to new heights, earning the admiration of all Wall Street, filled him with bitter self-contempt.
Even his steadfast belief—that such irrational growth could not possibly continue—was now collapsing, crushed beneath the stampede of a raging bull market.
[-70,000,000 USD]
Rodney bit down hard on his lower lip as the first digit of the loss figure displayed on the upper-left monitor finally changed.
It was the moment of decision.
But…
His fingers twitched slightly.
In his head, he knew he should close his position before the losses grew any worse. Yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. Hesitation rooted him in place—clinging to the faint hope that perhaps, tomorrow, the bubble would burst just as he had predicted.
At that moment, as if someone had been watching his agony, the phone resting on his desk began to ring sharply.
Seeing the name displayed on the screen, Rodney's face stiffened as he picked up the call.
[Soros.]
The moment he heard George Soros's deep, heavy voice on the line, Rodney knew instantly—this was the call he had been dreading.
He didn't need to guess what it was about, but he still wanted to protect what little pride he had left. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his voice and answered calmly.
"Go ahead, sir."
[It seems your judgment was wrong after all. What do you think?]
For a moment, Rodney was at a loss for words.
George Soros himself had agreed that the market was in a bubble and had approved the short position—yet now he spoke as if the entire mess were Rodney's fault.
A deep sense of betrayal welled up inside him, but Rodney clenched his teeth and forced himself to stay composed.
Arguing now would only make things uglier, he told himself. Summoning what little composure he had left, he finally managed to speak.
"…I'll liquidate the short positions."
[If you've realized your mistake, the best way to minimize the damage is to get out quickly.]
"..."
Rodney remained silent, his jaw tightening as Soros's cold voice continued through the receiver.
[Anyone can make mistakes, but I must say—I'm quite disappointed this time.]
The words hit like a blunt strike. His throat stiffened, and a burning lump of anger rose from his chest.
But Rodney held it down, keeping his tone dry and steady.
"…Understood. I'm sorry."
[Be more careful from now on. Don't let this kind of mistake happen again.]
"Yes, sir."
As soon as Rodney gave his answer, George Soros hung up without another word.
Hearing the dull tone of the disconnected line, Rodney's hand trembled faintly as he gripped the phone.
An unbearable sense of humiliation and disgrace spread across his face.
He stood motionless for a while, frozen like a statue as countless emotions churned violently inside him. Then, slowly, he set the phone down on the desk.
A heavy silence settled over the spacious private office, mirroring the weight in his heart.
Rodney drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly to steady himself. Staring at the indices still shining green and climbing higher, he muttered bitterly through clenched teeth.
"If I was wrong—and the madness ruling this market was right—then fine. I'll join the madness."
With that, he reached for the key phone installed on the side of his desk and pressed a button.
[Yes, sir.]
Ian, the Chief Manager of Quantum Fund, answered promptly. Rodney's eyes flashed sharply as he issued his order.
"Close all short positions immediately. Then, using leverage, buy into the top ten market-cap stocks—Microsoft, Cisco, Sun Microsystems, the lot."
The sudden command made Ian, who had been quietly uneasy about the market's relentless rise, respond in relief and enthusiasm.
[Understood. I'll adjust the positions right away.]
That reaction told Rodney everything. Even his own subordinates hadn't fully trusted his earlier decisions—they'd been just as anxious.
He gave a faint, bitter smile. But instead of showing any emotion, he kept his tone calm and deliberate as he continued speaking.
"When the position switch is complete, report to me immediately."
[Yes, sir.]
After hanging up, Rodney fixed his bloodshot eyes on the monitors, glaring at them as if he could pierce through the screens themselves.
"From now on, I just need to win it all back," he muttered under his breath.
But at that moment, he had no idea—
that this decision would become the greatest regret of his entire life.
***
Seok-won, seated at the center of the main table, set down the merger proposal he had been holding and spoke calmly.
"If we proceed with the merger as planned, my stake will drop to seventy-one percent."
At once, Cha Sang-woo, the president of Bluehole Securities, who was seated on the sofa to his right, straightened his posture and quickly responded.
"We calculated the merger ratio to be as favorable to our side as possible, but since other shareholders collectively hold nearly seventy-six percent of Daekwang Securities' shares, there wasn't much room to adjust."
"That means the existing shareholders of Daekwang Securities will inevitably take a hit. Won't there be strong opposition?"
Leaning back in his chair as he asked, Seok-won received a confident answer from Cha Sang-woo.
"Daekwang Securities may hold symbolic status as the top player in the industry and even managed to stay in the black while the Daekwang Group was struggling, but the detailed due diligence revealed massive debts. The shareholders are well aware that those liabilities could explode like a time bomb at any moment. So rather than oppose the merger, they'll likely be relieved to see it go through quickly—even under these terms."
"You said the newly uncovered debt exceeds one trillion won, correct?"
"Yes. To be exact, it's 1.1 trillion won. On the surface, their total payment guarantees were listed as about 680 billion won, with only 15 billion of that tied to other Daekwang affiliates. But as you know, the audit revealed those numbers were entirely fabricated."
"They routed the loans through a financial company in the middle, disguising them as bridge loans to Daekwang Group's subsidiaries, right?"
"That's correct. It was a form of window dressing."
Cha Sang-woo's expression stiffened slightly as he continued, reluctant but thorough.
"Given that the Daekwang Group has effectively entered court receivership and is now heading toward dissolution, we can assume their debts increased in direct proportion to the guarantees extended to those subsidiaries."
"So, in short, they've completely wiped out all the profits they made over the past two years."
It turned out that the company they had acquired—believing it to be a solid investment—was hiding massive insolvencies.
But Seok-won remained calm, as though he had anticipated this outcome.
"As this news came out, Daekwang Securities' stock, which had surged on merger expectations, has now dropped by more than ten percent and is undergoing a correction," said President Cha Sang-woo.
Seok-won gave a small nod.
"In that case, even if the merger ratio is somewhat unfavorable, as you mentioned, Daekwang's shareholders won't have much reason to oppose it."
Picking up a fountain pen from the table, Seok-won signed the merger proposal and handed the approval folder back.
"Proceed as planned."
"Yes, sir."
Afterward, President Cha discussed for quite some time how the securities firm should be run after the merger, then finally left the room.
"Excuse me."
As the secretary began tidying the table, Seok-won rose from the sofa and moved to his desk.
Three monitors sat side by side, displaying tangled webs of stock charts and fluctuating numbers.
He sat down, checking the movements of the Japanese, Hong Kong, and Korean markets.
Seeing his focused expression, the secretary quietly collected the empty teacup, careful not to make a sound, and stepped out of the room.
The wooden door closed softly—then the vibration alert buzzed.
He picked up the phone from his desk, and when his eyes drifted to the screen, they lit up slightly.
The name displayed was John Porter, head of the Eldorado Fund's Japan branch.
"Hello."
[Boss, is this a good time to talk?]
Hearing the cheerful voice on the other end, Seok-won leaned back against the soft leather chair.
"Sounds like you've got good news for me."
[Hahaha, that's right.]
"Does it have to do with the task I gave you last time?"
[As expected, you're quick to catch on. Yes, it does.]
Holding the phone to his ear, Seok-won's expression grew expectant as Branch Manager Porter continued speaking.
[We've finalized the agreement with Liver Door management — an investment of 1.5 billion yen for 30% ownership, and the contract has been fully signed.]
A bright smile spread across Seok-won's face.
"That's truly wonderful news."