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CH344 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-05-02 10:30:02 +0000 UTCThe next day.
In the large conference hall of the Japan Securities Dealers Association in Tokyo, a crowd of reporters had gathered.
Today’s press conference was set to address the major issue that had recently erupted — the massive losses from option contracts.
When President Yamakawa entered through the side door, accompanied by the presidents of Nikko, Daiwa, and Yamaichi Securities, flashes from cameras went off relentlessly.
With a faint look of discomfort, Yamakawa and the other securities firm presidents continued walking up to the stage.
They each took their seats at the long table where nameplates had been placed, facing a sea of tightly packed reporters.
The number of journalists easily exceeded forty, and TV cameras mounted on tripods jutted out here and there, clearly visible among the crowd.
Yamakawa fought the urge to leap off the stage and escape on the spot.
It was humiliating beyond words to have to publicly apologize in front of so many reporters.
But with stock prices plummeting and accusations mounting that they had deliberately concealed losses and harmed shareholders, there was no way around it.
The other securities firm presidents, gathered for the same reason, also wore grim expressions.
Soon, an association staff member standing at the podium on the left side of the stage cleared his throat and leaned toward the microphone.
“We will now begin the press conference regarding the option losses. Representing the four securities firms, we have Nomura Securities President Hiroshi Yamakawa to speak first.”
Though reluctant, Yamakawa rose from his seat, accepted the microphone handed to him, and faced forward.
The murmuring hall fell instantly silent as all the reporters’ eyes fixed on him.
Standing stiffly in place, Yamakawa stared directly at the TV camera glowing red right in front of him and began to deliver his prepared statement.
“First, I sincerely apologize to the people of this nation and to our shareholders for the deep concern caused by these recent unfortunate events.”
As reporters pushed their voice recorders forward and scribbled frantically in their notebooks, Yamakawa continued.
“The reports stating that each of the four securities firms, including Nomura, has suffered option contract losses amounting to 2 billion dollars are entirely true.”
“!”
When President Yamakawa admitted to the massive option losses, the reporters erupted in commotion, and camera flashes lit up the room once again.
“While these CDS option contracts were made as part of normal business operations, the unexpected Southeast Asian financial crisis has resulted in substantial losses. However, I want to make it absolutely clear today that all four companies remain financially sound, and the delayed accounting recognition was purely due to bookkeeping issues — there has been no fraudulent accounting, as some have alleged. Regardless of the reason, we deeply apologize to our investors and shareholders and pledge to resolve this matter as swiftly as possible.”
Having finished his prepared statement, Yamakawa stood up straight and, together with the other securities firm presidents, bowed deeply at a 90-degree angle toward the audience.
Immediately, the loud clatter of camera shutters and blinding flashes erupted from every direction.
The photos taken at this moment would soon be plastered across large headlines, filling newsstands all over the country.
In this utterly humiliating moment, Yamakawa bit his lower lip hard as he remained bowed.
* * *
At the same time.
At their office, Choi Ho-geun and his team were watching the live broadcast of the four securities firms’ press conference on NHK satellite TV, displayed on a television mounted on the wall.
Watching the securities firm presidents bow in apology, Jung Hwan-yeop sneered with clear satisfaction.
“Can you believe it? We actually made the big-shot presidents of Japan’s top four securities firms come out and apologize publicly. Our boss is really something, isn’t he?”
“He’s definitely not an ordinary man, that’s for sure.”
With his arms crossed, Choi nodded in agreement as he watched the TV.
Then, turning his gaze, he called out to Yoo Seok-hyun.
“Yoo, how’s the market reacting?”
Checking the stock prices of the four major securities firms on his monitor, Yoo Seok-hyun quickly reported back.
“Just as expected — the decline hasn’t stopped. In fact, it looks like it’s deepening even further.”
At that moment, Hong Jae-hee, who knew a bit of Japanese, noticed the breaking news scrolling across the bottom of the TV screen and raised his voice in excitement.
“Look at that! It says the Japanese prosecutors are raiding the headquarters of Nomura and the other three securities firms on suspicion of fraudulent accounting!”
Choi, far from surprised, wore an expression that said he had seen it coming.
“Who’d believe that four securities firms all made the exact same accounting ‘mistake’ on a scale of two billion dollars each? Of course the prosecutors would jump in.”
“Exactly. It’s such an obvious scheme anyone can see through.”
Jung Hwan-yeop, standing nearby, chimed in with agreement.
Choi Ho-geun turned his gaze to the large market board displayed across from him.
[Nomura Securities: 781.3 (▼11.7)]
[Daiwa Securities: 320.9 (▼9.8)]
[Nikko Securities: 372.1 (▼7.9)]
[Yamaichi Securities: 298.9 (▼9.4)]
“Hmm.”
As he rubbed his clean-shaven chin with one hand, lost in thought, Jung Hwan-yeop casually spoke up.
“Considering that the stocks didn’t fall all that much, even after the presidents’ public apology and the breaking news of the prosecutors' raid, I’d say we’re close to the bottom now.”
“Seems that way.”
“If we want to start buying back the shares we shorted without letting prices spike, it’s best if the market still feels like there’s bad news lingering. So maybe it’s about time to start wrapping this up.”
Despite his usual lighthearted chatter, when it came to stock trading, Jung Hwan-yeop had an instinct even Choi Ho-geun acknowledged — the man had a knack for timing his exits just right.
Choi gave him an approving, slightly amused look.
“You rascal. For someone who goofs off most of the time, you sure have a sixth sense for this stuff.”
Jung frowned at the backhanded compliment.
“Was that supposed to be praise?”
“Yeah, it was, kid.”
With that offhand response, Choi grabbed the phone on his desk and dialed Seok-won’s direct line.
After a few rings, the call connected.
“It’s Choi, sir.”
[What is it?]
came Seok-won’s voice.
Glancing again at the market board showing the four Japanese securities firms’ stock prices, Choi reported.
“We’re planning to start unwinding our short positions now.”
Seok-won replied without even the slightest hesitation.
[I’ve entrusted the trades to you, Deputy Choi. If that’s your judgment, proceed as you see fit.]
Even though they were dealing with more than 54.5 billion yen — and leveraged at that — Seok-won’s unwavering trust and full delegation moved Choi deeply. He felt a swell of gratitude and respect.
“Understood. We’ll begin right away.”
[Go ahead.]
Setting the receiver down, Choi turned to his team, who were quietly watching him, awaiting orders.
“Approval’s in. We start covering our shorts now. Jung, you handle Nikko Securities. Yoo and Hong, you each take Daiwa and Yamaichi, split them up.”
“And Nomura? Will you be handling that one yourself, sir?”
When Jung Hwan-yeop asked, Choi Ho-geun grinned.
“Yeah. It's been a while — I should stretch my fingers a bit.”
Putting extra weight in his voice, Choi addressed his team firmly.
“You all know the drill — make sure to quietly scoop up shares so that other investors don’t catch on that we’ve started covering our shorts. Keep it discreet for as long as possible.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Understood, Deputy Choi.”
“Come on, this isn’t our first day trading. Don’t worry about a thing.”
That last cheeky remark, of course, came from none other than Jung Hwan-yeop, delivered in his usual cocky tone.
Choi clapped his hands once, sharply.
“Alright! Let’s get to it — everyone, start now!”
The team members returned to their desks and began buying back the shares they had previously shorted, each handling their assigned stocks.
A tension and energy so thick it was palpable spread through the office, which had been relaxed just moments before.
Choi rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, sat down, and moved his mouse to bring up the trading window.
It had been a while since he’d traded directly, and now that he was back at it, the dormant instincts of a trader stirred within him, sending adrenaline surging through his entire body.
‘Let’s start light — a buy order for 2,000 shares.’
Choi’s fingers danced quickly over the keyboard, and given the market, which was flooded with sell orders from all the relentless bad news, his order was filled immediately.
That electrifying sensation — the thrill of a successful trade — shot through him.
“That’s the stuff.”
Choi couldn’t help but let a satisfied smirk curl at the corners of his mouth as he continued placing buy orders, adjusting his pace like riding a wave — sometimes light, sometimes strong.
Just then, Noh Hee-won came over and placed a cup of coffee on his desk — a strong brew with two packets of instant mix.
“Thanks, Miss Noh.”
Choi flicked his eyes sideways, still clicking away at his trades.
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Sure.”
He gave the eager new hire a brief smile before turning his full attention back to the screen.
After delivering coffee to the rest of the team, Noh Hee-won returned to her desk and took a moment to glance around the office.
Normally, these colleagues were friendly and chatty, but now that trading had begun, their focus was so intense it was almost intimidating to even approach them.
‘What must it feel like to move around sums that big?’
Noh Hee-won felt a flicker of envy.
‘I need to step up too. The whole team is working hard — I can’t afford to be a burden.’
Clenching her fist lightly in determination, Noh Hee-won began checking the Nikkei and Malaysian stock index futures trends, finding tasks she could handle on her own while the team was busy trading.
* * *
“Prices might fall a bit more, but I don’t see much downside left. Once all the bad news is priced in, if we start buying, the stock will rebound quickly. Yeah… this is a decent timing.”
As Seok-won nodded slightly while monitoring stock prices on his screen, the phone on his desk vibrated.
He tapped the call button, and the deep, weighty voice of Chairman Park Tae-hong came through.
[It’s me. Are you busy?]
“No, sir.”
[You’re not just sitting in your office pretending to work because you’re the president now, are you?]
“Of course not,”
Seok-won replied with a chuckle.
[By the way, when are you going to come and pick up the securities?]
“You’re really giving them to me?”
[You already know I’ve set aside your share — don’t play dumb.]
Chairman Park clicked his tongue at his younger son, who had grown increasingly sly over the years.
[I want to hand the company over to you guys and retire, spend my days leisurely. So come and take it soon.]
His tone was gruff, but the underlying sentiment was clear.
“You’re still in your prime — isn’t it a bit early to be thinking about quitting? People say life really starts at eighty, you know.”
[I’m only 67 — what’s this talk about turning 80?]
“Exactly my point. And from the way you’re still scolding me, I’d say you’ve got at least another 20 years in you.”
[Twenty years? Are you telling me to work until I drop dead?]
Despite his grumbling, there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
[Anyway, that’s not why I called. It’s about what we discussed yesterday.]
“Yes.”
[I’ll wire the investment funds tomorrow. Just so you know.]
“You’ve already made the decision?”
[Didn’t you insist I give you an answer quickly?]
“Well, yes, but I didn’t expect you to decide this quickly.”
He had figured it would take at least a day or two more, so the swift decision caught him a bit off guard.
Chairman Park Tae-hong let out a snort and spoke in a disinterested tone.
[The sooner I send it, the sooner you can grow it and make me more profit, right?]
“Hahaha. Don’t worry — I’ll make sure to grow it nicely for you.”
It seemed the sweet returns Seok-won had delivered last time had left quite an impression.
[But isn’t a 30% management fee a bit too steep?]
“But I deliver big returns, don’t I? Normally, I don’t even take outside funds, but I’m making an exception this time — because it’s you, Father.”
[Yeah, how generous of you.]
Chairman Park’s gritted reply made Seok-won chuckle without meaning to.
“Tell you what — this time, I’ll give you a special rate and lower it to 20%.”
[What! Are you serious?]
Chairman Park jumped at the offer, eager to seal the deal.
[You said it yourself — no take-backs. Send over the contract right away.]
“Will do.”
