The Strange Book

Sang-hoon recalled the moment he borrowed the finance books from the library. If his memory served him correctly, it was before Luho's stock had hit its peak price. He had dismissed the figure of 51,000 won mentioned in the book as unrealistic at the time. Now, the stock's subsequent dive seemed to vindicate the book's eerily accurate prediction, though he had rationalized it as a simple calculation based on predictable 15% drop limits.

Lighting another cigarette, Sang-hoon took a deep drag and looked back at the book where Luho was discussed. Despite a thorough flip through the pages, he discovered only content on value investing and a peculiar section that looked different from the rest – a piece on Luho that seemed out of place, with a distinct font and darker print.

Rubbing his eyes, Sang-hoon closed them for a moment and turned his face up to the sunlight filtering through his eyelids. Doubts crept in, making him wonder if the prolonged screen time had caused hallucinations – a form of visual psychosis, perhaps.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a silent wish not to see the strange text again. Being labeled mentally ill at such a young age and being committed to a mental hospital was a prospect Sang-hoon wanted to avoid at all costs.

In an attempt to clear his mind of Luho's troubles, he reassured himself he was fine. But his thoughts circled back, fixating on the company.

Opening his eyes slowly, the words about Luho blurred into view once more:

[Luho is an automotive bearing manufacturer that reported a loss of 5.4 billion won in revenue as of the third quarter of 2006...]

Surprisingly, when Sang-hoon fully opened his eyes, the text appeared different from before – with the same subject but altered content.

Sang-hoon cursed under his breath, unnerved by the changing words. It made him question his sanity, even though the inserted content related to financial details he was unaware of. He suspected the earlier text might have been conflated with information he picked up while researching the company and dismissed it as an illusion.

Resigned to the unsettling experience, Sang-hoon proceeded to the library, cigarette in mouth, feeling it was the only thing tethering him to his current situation's reality.

After crossing the street to reach the library and disposing of the cigarette, he approached the book return area on the third floor, which was unusually devoid of people.

The librarian, a pleasant woman with cropped hair, greeted Sang-hoon and asked for the books. As he handed them over, he noticed an inexplicable reluctance to part with 'Value Investment Strategies.'

He began to question the mystery text he'd seen and struggled slightly to release the book. The librarian gently prompted him again, and he finally let go, albeit self-conscious about his weird hesitance.

As the librarian scanned the books back into the system, she informed him of the repercussions of his late return – a one-month borrowing ban. Sang-hoon accepted the consequences with a nod and left the counter quietly cursing himself for not being more articulate in front of the woman.

Feeling small and pathetic, Sang-hoon, despite being 28, still felt uncomfortable around women. To make matters worse, the strange book encounter had unsettled him further.

Back home, as he settled down at his computer once again, the market had closed with Luho's stock stubbornly fixed, and breaking the psychological support level of 10,000 won seemed inevitable tomorrow.

Lying in bed that night, curious thoughts about the book invaded his mind. A scene unfolded: on the 12th day, Luho's stock started low and began to turn upwards.

Despite efforts to think otherwise, the book's content lingered in his thoughts. He envisioned the stock's trend until the following day, rising just short of 10,000 won before falling again.

Even with closed eyes, the charts danced before him, like when he first learned billiards and saw imaginary balls and trajectories on the ceiling.

A particular day stood out – the day the stock went over 10,000 won and then dipped, leaving behind a long lower shadow on the charts. Sang-hoon recognized it as a 'hand change,' a term from the stock world indicating ownership transition, especially when significant quantities change hands.

"Those bad guys," he thought, scornful of the HU Group's executives, who seemed to be evading capture, all while the chairman disowned the scheme, blaming it on subordinates.

Forced into a corner with options dwindling, he wondered if it were time to lay all their cards on the table.

The next day brought a faint glimmer of change as he noticed a slight improvement in transaction volumes. But still, the mountainous sell orders seemed as impenetrable as a fortified city's walls.

Confronting his worried parents, he sought their trust.

"Mom, Dad, will you believe in me?" he asked with earnest desperation.

Puzzled by Sang-hoon's vague queries, his parents agreed, their faith in their son unwavering despite the cryptic circumstances.

As he prepared for sleep, that night, Sang-hoon couldn't shake the belief that the peculiar information he encountered was leading up to something significant. Despite rationality tugging at him, he chose to trust his intuition, spurred on by the ambiguous clues of the unexplainable words he had read.

Day 12 in the crucial showdown.

Sang-hoon struggled to sleep that night. For some reason, his heart raced with anxiety, making it hard even to breathe. Come morning, he didn't engage in the pre-market trades he usually would. Nor did he place any orders at the lower limit during the Dong-Hui-ho time. He simply sat there, arms crossed, staring at the monitor.

With a heavy sigh, 9 o'clock rolled around, and without variation, Luho opened at the lower limit, imprinted in the range of 7,300 won, the gate to Luho's market seemingly sealed shut. Yet, through Sang-hoon's focused gaze, an anomaly began to emerge, clearer than the day before.

5 million shares.

Only 5 million shares loomed at the lower limit, ready to be sold. The volume awaiting sale, which had been 10 million shares up until the day before, was now halved.

'Odd.'

Although Sang-hoon couldn't quite articulate it, an unusual pattern was revealing itself to him, one that he noticed even with his singular focus on Luho's behavior on the 12th day.