Chapter 26

"What's wrong?"

Lee Sang-hoon's mother was taken aback, clutching a ladle as she greeted him. Urgently, Lee Sang-hoon addressed his mother, who was wearing an apron and holding a ladle.

"Mom, what happened with the book you brought?"

"Huh? I simply exchanged the slip of paper you wrote with the library staff. Is something the matter? Did you expect me to bring another book?" his mother responded.

"No, it's fine," Lee assured her, laughing heartily to ease her concern and relax his own tense expression.

"I think I momentarily confused it with something else. Everything's fine. You don't need to worry," he reassured her.

"Alright, thank goodness. I was startled when you shouted. I'll go prepare dinner, so wash up. Let's eat," his mother said before leaving the room.

As his mother left and closed the door, Lee quickly revisited the book. There were still aspects that should have been visible. He sat down on the bed, lost in thought.

"Did the book revert to its original state while I wasn't looking?" he wondered. Lee pondered whether everything he had seen so far was a product of misunderstanding, or if he had mistaken a dream for reality.

Regardless, it made no sense to predict market fluctuations, such as the stock IC Ukols, based on a dream. If the writings in the book had indeed existed, the sudden disappearance of its contents upon his return home was inexplicable.

Lee reclined on the bed, his heart heavy and filled with despair, resting both arms on his forehead.

"It's too brief to be called a dream. What's happening? It's been less than a month since I first sat on a bench and read that book... A bench."

His realization prompted Lee to spring to his feet. He recalled that the first time he had perused the book's contents was not at home, but on a bench outside the library. Without a moment's hesitation, Lee picked up the book and hurried outside.

"Sang-hoon, where are you going? Dinner's ready," his mother called after him.

"Mom, I'm stepping out for a moment, I'll be right back. It'll only take a minute," Lee Sang-hoon reassured his mother before leaving the dimming surroundings of the sunset and hastening toward the bench. He was dressed in suit pants and a well-ironed shirt, but the necktie was loose, and he wore socks with slippers, giving him a somewhat disheveled appearance. Despite this, Lee Sang-hoon paid no attention to his attire as he hurried toward the bench.

Arriving at the bench where he had encountered the book a month prior, Lee opened it once more. Upon flipping through the pages, he reached the following entry:

"KOSPI was updating the reported prices every day. After surpassing the 1,500 mark, the KOSPI 200 also breached the 200 milestone, a significant figure, and continued its relentless ascent. The index surged toward the next target, 1,800."

"Is this for real? The composite stock index rising by 20%? How is this possible?" Lee pondered, astonished by the unprecedented movement in the market. The book appeared to present a factual account that demanded unyielding trust.

As darkness descended, Lee struggled to read the book with his naked eye, prompting him to illuminate the pages using the flashlight on his cell phone. The entry continued:

"As the KOSPI rises to 1,800, most stocks follow suit. Shipbuilding stocks, especially, experienced a robust surge in anticipation of an imminent major boom cycle. U.S. shipbuilding is projected to ascend from 100,000 won to 300,000 won, positioning itself as a leading contributor to the index's upswing. Meanwhile, individual stocks, such as Jumi Materials, exhibited exceptional short-term profitability. The momentum extended beyond large-cap stocks, signaling a broader uptick in small and medium-sized theme stocks, commencing with Jumi Materials."

"U.S. Shipbuilding and Jumi Materials? This is beyond amazing," Lee exclaimed, surveying his surroundings as the sun disappeared and darkness enveloped the area. On second glance, the book's pages were blank. Lee closed the book and made his way home, contemplating the mysterious connections between books, libraries, houses, and benches. It was evident that there was more to the story than mere happenstance.

I didn't see it at home; rather, it was visible in the library and on the bench. Even though I tried to read it several times on my way home, the content remained elusive. As I distanced myself from the bench, the text vanished instantly, akin to the abrupt flickering of car headlights.

Pondering the predicament, I surmised that there must be a link between the book and the locations where I could perceive it. Furthermore, I had a sense that the book's contents held some relevance to my personal circumstances. Although I couldn't ascertain the nature of this connection just yet, it seemed inexorably tied to the specific locales.

Despite my frustration and curiosity, I resolved to acquaint myself with the book, envisioning it as a source of enlightenment. It resembled a spring, offering a taste of sweet water the moment it was tapped.

"Where are you, feeling so drained? I'm going to set the rice to cool. Hurry up and eat," my mother interjected, perturbed by my preoccupation.

"Sure, I'll join you in a moment," I responded.

Upon reaching the table still clad in my attire, I hastily consumed a spoonful of rice before retreating to my room. Disregarding personal hygiene, I promptly logged into the HTS, prioritizing an investigation into US shipbuilding and Jumi materials over the mundane task of washing up.

The current share price of US shipbuilding stood at 200,000 won. Observing the steep rise depicted on the chart, I questioned the sustainability of its ascent, given that it had supposedly started at 100,000 won. The magnitude of growth seemed so substantial that it raised doubts about the potential for further advancement.

"Is this viable?" I mused, shifting my attention to Jumi materials, which appeared relatively stable, hovering around 1,200 won without any notable fluctuations.

"Precisely what does this company do?" I contemplated, utterly unfamiliar with Jumi Materials. Intent on filling this knowledge gap, I initiated an internet search.

"Let's see... Jumi materials. Engaged in manufacturing ship pipelines... Invested in the production of artificial hearts... Also holds an investment in an upcoming movie..."

Lee Sang-hoon found the situation perplexing. The unfamiliarity of Jumi Materials led me to discover its diverse range of endeavors. Upon closer inspection, I perceived the company's market prosperity and considered the importance of making a calculated decision.

"This place is rumored to yield an eightfold return? It seems quite promising," I mused.

I shifted my attention back to the US shipbuilding industry. While the notion of US shipbuilding reaching 300,000 won was not easily believable, the possibility seemed more plausible in comparison to the prospects of Jumi.

"Whatever the outcome, I'll give it careful consideration the day after tomorrow," I resolved, feeling assured that eventual success was within reach.

The following day, the office was devoid of Chairman Wang, leaving only Deputy Jang and myself. Although I disapproved of Chairman Wang's absent stewardship, I found solace in my continued presence at the office.

Deputy Jang presented me with an account containing 1 million won, a measure initiated by Chairman Wang to cultivate financial acumen through buying and selling in the market. It was stipulated that any losses would be covered by the incentive funds, whereas profits would be retained, excluding the initial 1 million won. I found this arrangement acceptable, as I felt confident in my ability to mitigate losses due to the valuable insights gleaned from the book.

Deputy Jang further informed me that I could engage in personal trades on Tuesdays and Thursdays when there were no broadcasts. This autonomy delighted me, and I eagerly welcomed the opportunity.

"What do you think, Deputy?"

Lee Sang-hoon pondered over his options for utilizing the account provided by Deputy Jang, peering at Jang's monitor as he engaged in a presumably imperative trade on his own HTS.

Seeking clarification on Jang's activities, Lee queried, "Why are you buying and selling Ohsung Electronics? It doesn't seem to be fluctuating much, does it?"

Without breaking his concentration, Jang succinctly replied, "It doesn't move, so you buy and sell."

This response initially puzzled Lee. Confused yet intrigued, he probed further, "But why buy and sell if it's not moving?"

Remain composed, Jang continued trading Ohsung Electronics while explaining, "It's a copy account. The copy account that people applied for last time."

Understanding dawned on Lee as Jang elaborated on the concept, "Ah, the copy account that mimics the chairman's buying and selling patterns. But why trade when it's a copy account?"

"Sang-hoon, we don't earn money from individuals, so who do we earn from? It's the brokerage company that linked us to the transactions," Jang explained resolutely.

Upon realizing the underlying motivation behind Jang's activities, Lee's countenance darkened. He disapproved of profiting at the expense of unwitting members who bore the burden of the brokerage fees, despite not actively participating in the market and essentially accruing unnecessary charges.

Lee likened the situation to someone taking advantage of a child's naivety for personal gain, which left him feeling disheartened and repulsed by the perceived exploitation.

Frowning in consternation, Lee diverted his attention to his own HTS, perturbed by the unsavory reality of the trading environment.