novelraw Chapter 42 : I Don’t Hate It, But I Don’t Like It Either
Chapter 42 : I Don’t Hate It, But I Don’t Like It Either
Chapter 42: I Don’t Hate It, But I Don’t Like It Either
The doors of the Korea Securities Exchange hadn’t even opened yet, but the entire Myeong-dong area was already paralyzed.
During the past weekend, people had poured in from all over the country, driving up the prices of every nearby inn. Those who couldn’t find a room even after offering extra money spent the night on the streets, lying on sheets of newspaper.
Their goal was singular — the public subscription for Daegung stock, which began that very day.
“Move! I said move!”
“I got here first, you bastard!”
The instant the subscription counters opened, the repressed desires exploded, and the massive crowd surged into the securities firm all at once.
The trading floor turned into a madhouse in an instant.
Shouts and screams erupted everywhere as people shoved and trampled one another. In their eyes, nothing existed except those three letters — Daegung stock.
“Fourteen hwan? Do you know what the current market price is? You’d be crazy not to buy this!”
“I sold my house! Put in everything I’ve got!”
A premium rate twenty-eight times the face value — an unprecedented figure in global stock market history — didn’t matter to anyone.
Faced with prices that soared higher by the day, fourteen hwan per share seemed like a giveaway, a once-in-a-lifetime bargain.
A blind belief spread through the skies of Seoul — that if one could just hop aboard this frenzied train, one would become rich overnight.
The clerks behind the counters screamed as they were buried under piles of cash and subscription forms, while straw sandals and torn documents littered the trading floor.
A massive whirlpool born of greed swept through the first day of subscription.
But that fever didn’t last until the end.
On the final day of the four-day subscription period, the scene around the exchange was eerily quiet, as if the madness from just three days ago had been a lie.
The explosive enthusiasm of the first day was gone, replaced by shadows of disappointment and unease hanging thick inside the hall.
“Something’s seriously wrong here, isn’t it?”
The problem lay in the provinces. Unlike the frenzy in Seoul, the enormous allocation of shares assigned to regional branches remained unsold.
For provincial investors, who were less informed, the premium — twenty-eight times the face value — was an insurmountable barrier. They also lacked the speculative capital that flooded Seoul.
The flame that had ignited in the capital had turned to ash before it could spread across the nation.
When rumors began to circulate about poor subscription rates outside Seoul, the mood in the capital quickly cooled as well.
The faces that had been glowing with dreams of instant fortune until just yesterday were now clouded with doubt and anxiety.
“What if this rights issue fails?”
“Oh, come on… it’s government-backed. That can’t happen.”
“Something feels off. Maybe we should pull out while we can.”
Small groups gathered and murmured. Through their whispers, a completely opposite current began to flow.
Hands that had been eager to buy now hesitated, and those with quick instincts quietly began to unload their holdings.
The counters were no longer crowded. Employees sat in a daze, staring at the empty hall, and the euphoric cheers were gone.
Only a heavy silence remained, as if anticipating an approaching storm.
In the end, the four-day subscription closed with a pitiful result — only sixty-seven percent of the total public offering was sold.
The frenzied festival that everyone had believed would last forever ended in vain, cold and hollow.
A satisfied grin spread across Dan Tae-geon’s face. The failure of the rights issue and the confusion now gripping the market seemed to delight him.
Watching that smile, I spoke coldly.
“President Dan. It’s time we begin the real offensive.”
At my words, Dan Tae-geon’s smile vanished instantly, and he replied in a tone of annoyance.
“I’ll handle it my way. You just sit back and watch.”
Although he had started the operation with aggressive sell orders, once the public subscription began, he had scaled back and merely observed the situation.
“Other securities firms that weren’t part of this operation are starting to catch on. This is exactly when we should push harder.”
When I pressed him again, Dan Tae-geon snapped in irritation.
“I said I’ll handle it!”
“This operation isn’t just about making money. The goal is to completely destroy Park Jeong-ho — and shake the forces backing him. To do that…”
I couldn’t finish my sentence. The office door opened, and Jeong Tae-soo entered without warning.
He swept his characteristic expressionless gaze across the office.
Dan Tae-geon’s demeanor shifted instantly — the irritation vanished, and he hurried toward Jeong Tae-soo like a dog wagging its tail.
“Deputy Director! What brings you here?”
“Hmm, looks like things are going well.”
“Yes! As per your instructions, we’ve been continuously placing sell orders for Daegung stock.”
Jeong Tae-soo, looking pleased, patted Dan Tae-geon on the shoulder before turning his gaze to me.
I rose from my seat and bowed slightly. Jeong Tae-soo pulled up a chair, sat down heavily across from me, and said,
“Sit. Let’s talk. President Dan, send everyone else out.”
Following his order without protest, Dan Tae-geon told the staff holding the phones to leave the room.
Once everyone was gone, we sat again. A peculiar silence filled the air.
Inside the spacious office, only four of us remained — Jeong Tae-soo and me, with Lee Cheong-ho and Dan Tae-geon standing behind us like shadows.
Jeong Tae-soo stared at me for a long while before finally speaking.
“As you predicted, the rights issue failed miserably. Now, tell me — how do you think they’ll respond?”
“Before I answer that, I’d like to confirm something first. Has the issue of the KCIA’s involvement been completely resolved?”
Jeong Tae-soo nodded, a faint smile curling on his lips.
“I’ve had a talk with Director Kang. We agreed that, regarding this matter, neither side will use the KCIA’s power to exert pressure.”
That meant the biggest variable in this game — the KCIA — was now off the board. What remained were pure capital, information, and psychological warfare.
“In that case, all the securities firms not affiliated with Park Jeong-ho will launch a massive sell-off together. They’ll want to use this chance to drag him down.”
“And?”
“Park Jeong-ho will try to endure it no matter what. He’ll use every bit of his available funds to defend the stock price. At the same time, he’ll secretly sell off the large quantity of physical stock certificates he owns, little by little, without drawing attention.”
Jeong Tae-soo’s expression dulled, as though he had lost interest. When he spoke again, his tone was brusque.
“That much, even I can predict. Since you’re the one who designed this operation, I assume you can foresee their next move as well?”
I barely managed to suppress a frown. That was practically asking me to lay out all my cards on the table.
Why is he asking this? Trying to read his intent, I deliberately brought Dan Tae-geon into the conversation.
“My role was merely to observe. Besides, even when I offered advice to President Dan, he never cared to listen. So may I ask why you’re suddenly asking for my opinion now?”
At my words, Jeong Tae-soo’s cold gaze shifted toward Dan Tae-geon. Dan frowned nervously and hurried to defend himself.
“Too many captains sink the ship, sir. He kept talking nonsense, so I—”
Without listening to the end, Jeong Tae-soo turned back to me.
“Don’t be too harsh on him. I heard you and President Dan had a little clash.”
“Business is business, and personal matters are separate.”
I replied firmly.
“Because of President Dan’s unilateral decisions, the initial stage of my plan fell apart. Other securities firms caught on too quickly and joined in earlier than intended.”
The other firms, hesitant at first, had noticed something strange from Dan Tae-geon’s reckless and overly aggressive sell orders and began to act prematurely.
“To be honest, the more firms participate, the better it is for us. However, Deputy Director, you didn’t enter this game merely to topple Park Jeong-ho and his backers, did you? Even if it’s secondary, I thought the massive profit generated in the process would also matter to you.”
“What’s done is done. Let’s move on. So, how do you think Park Jeong-ho will respond next?”
Jeong Tae-soo pressed relentlessly. I organized my thoughts for a moment before replying.
“Park Jeong-ho will avoid settling in cash and hold out as long as possible. During that time, he’ll secretly unload his physical stock certificates on the market, then finally declare intentional default.”
“He won’t settle?”
“Yes. Otherwise, there’s no way for him to handle this avalanche of sell orders.”
At that, Jeong Tae-soo nodded with satisfaction. He hadn’t asked because he was truly curious — he was simply confirming what he already believed.
“From here on, both Yang Dae-in and you are to step out of this game. We’ll take care of it from now on.”
“I was under the impression that I was here to support with funding.”
“Funding is no longer necessary.”
Not necessary? But executing sell orders required margin deposits, and the longer this dragged on, the larger that amount would grow — exponentially.
‘No way… could it be?’
A chilling thought flashed through my mind. Seeing the faint smile on Jeong Tae-soo’s lips, my suspicion hardened into certainty.
“Don’t tell me… the seller’s settlement margin requirement is going to be waived?”
“Heh, you caught on?”
His smile deepened.
“That’s right. Tomorrow, the exchange will announce that, to prevent a chain of bankruptcies among securities firms, sellers’ margin deposits will be temporarily exempted.”
My eyes widened unconsciously. That was practically opening the gates to unlimited short selling.
The government was handing wings to the short-selling faction itself.
“How is that even possible? In trying to prevent the collapse of securities firms, the Korea Securities Exchange itself could go bankrupt!”
“That’s none of your concern. Now step aside quietly.”
“What about the promise with the Elder?”
“Tell him not to worry. A promise is a promise.”
Beside him, Dan Tae-geon’s lips curved in a mocking smirk. His eyes brimmed with open ridicule as he looked at me.
There was no longer any justification for staying. Fine.
“Understood. I’ll relay that to the Elder.”
When I started to rise, Jeong Tae-soo gestured for me to sit back down.
“That’s that… but tell me — why do you dislike me so much?”
So he noticed. I sat again, feigning confusion at his words.
With eyes like a snake’s, Jeong Tae-soo continued.
“No matter how I think about it, I can’t forget that look in your eyes the first time we met. It couldn’t have been because I sent a few beggars from the shantytown to the facility…”
His persistent gaze refused to leave me. I steeled my heart and replied with a calm, impassive face.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Are you saying you don’t?”
“I have no reason to dislike you, Deputy Director.”
Jeong Tae-soo sneered.
“Then you wouldn’t mind working under me, I suppose.”
“……”
“What’s wrong? If you don’t hate me, there’s no reason you can’t. If you’d like, I can even bring out all your friends currently in the facility and place them under your command. How about it?”
A man consumed by greed — one who had to possess whatever he desired, no matter the means. A cunning serpent who thrived on exploiting others’ weaknesses to make them his pawns.
It was exactly the Jeong Tae-soo I remembered.
But I had no intention of crawling back into that serpent’s den. Never again would I become his dog, soaked in blood and obedience.
“I don’t hate you, but I don’t like you either. It’s a generous offer, but I’ll have to decline.”
At my firm answer, Jeong Tae-soo’s gaze turned icy. The faint smile at his lips vanished.
“Unexpected. I thought you valued those shantytown friends of yours quite a bit. So… you wouldn’t care even if all those beggars in the facility died?”
His final words weren’t persuasion — they were open threats.
“I’m not sure what misunderstanding you’re under. I only stayed in the shantytown for a few days. If you believed they were that important to me, you’re greatly mistaken.”
My emotionless answer made Jeong Tae-soo’s expression harden. His trump card had failed, and he clearly didn’t like it.
“If there’s nothing more, I’ll take my leave.”
“You won’t regret it?”
His voice carried a sharp warning.
“I’m the kind of man who always gets what I want.”
“Regret… I’ve already lived a life full of it. I have no intention of looking back anymore.”
Without waiting for a response, I turned and headed toward the office door.
‘Once this is over, I’ll need to disappear completely from Jeong Tae-soo’s sight for a while.’
Ignoring the cold, obsessive gaze burning into my back, I walked out without hesitation.