11:55 a.m., September 12, 2001.63 Building, Yeouido.
The newly established office of Bluehole Venture Capital's asset management division was wrapped in suffocating tension.
Once the market opened, the aftermath of the horrific terrorist attacks in the United States was expected to crash down on the Korean stock market like a massive tsunami.
In an attempt to soften the blow, the exchange had suspended the morning session and delayed the opening until noon, but it did little to help.
If anything, as news from the United States grew more severe through television and the internet, investors' fear and anxiety only deepened.
As a result, the financial district in Yeouido, where securities firms were concentrated, felt like it was walking on thin ice, tension stretched to its breaking point.
Choi Ho-geun, standing with his shirt sleeves rolled up and a cigarette between his lips, glanced at Assistant Manager Yoo Seok-hyeon, who sat stiffly at his desk.
"How are things looking in Japan?"
Yoo Seok-hyeon, who had been staring at his monitor, lifted his head and answered in a rigid voice.
"Panic selling is spreading across the board. The Nikkei is down 327.11 points from yesterday, currently sitting at 9,965.84."
"Hm. So it finally broke the ten-thousand mark."
Choi Ho-geun muttered under his breath as he exhaled a thin stream of smoke.
At that moment, Manager Jung Hwan-yeop, who had shed his usual playful demeanor, cut in.
"That's the first time the Nikkei has fallen below 10,000 since 1984, when the bubble economy began. That's seventeen years."
"Sounds about right."
Choi Ho-geun exhaled another puff of smoke, cigarette still pinched between his fingers.
"It just shows how massive the shock from the U.S. terror attack really is."
"Damn… at this rate, the Korean market won't escape unscathed either."
Hong Jae-hui let out a sigh as she roughly tied her hair back, having rushed out at dawn without even having time to properly fix it.
Choi Ho-geun stubbed out the cigarette that had nearly burned down completely, crushing it into the ashtray on his desk as he spoke in a low, heavy voice.
"With the Nikkei opening earlier than us and acting like a litmus test, getting completely crushed like that… hoping the storm will somehow pass Korea by is just wishful thinking."
"After finally paying off the IMF debt, it felt like the stock market was starting to recover from the dot-com bubble collapse… and now this kind of disaster hits. Things really never go our way."
"Tell me about it."
"Honestly, maybe we should've held some kind of ritual or something."
At Hong Jae-hui's grumbling, Choi Ho-geun gave a bitter smile.
"At least we sold most of our holdings last month. Just thinking about what would've happened otherwise is terrifying."
Yoo Seok-hyeon shuddered.
"If we hadn't, we'd probably be glued to the trading screens right now, too anxious to even smoke."
Choi Ho-geun let out a quiet sigh of relief as he rubbed his chest.
Just then, Noh Heewon, who had recently cut her hair into a neat bob, cautiously joined the conversation.
"Um… then what happens to the put options we bought?"
At that, Manager Jung Hwan-yeop curled one corner of his lips upward.
"What do you think? They've hit the jackpot."
Put options were derivatives where the seller profited if the index stayed above the strike price until expiration, but if it fell below, losses grew exponentially.
In simple terms, they profited when the stock market crashed—and under Seok-won's instructions, they had bought large volumes of put options on both the KOSPI and KOSDAQ.
"Considering tomorrow is triple witching day, when futures and options expire together, the institutions that sold those options must be panicking right about now."
At Yoo Seok-hyeon's comment, Jung Hwan-yeop scoffed.
"Panicking? They're probably desperate, scrambling to buy back the options they sold as soon as the market opens."
"They sold them hoping to make a few thousand won per contract, but now they're looking at losses dozens or even hundreds of times larger. They'll pay any premium just to buy them back."
Yoo Seok-hyeon nodded in understanding.
"The more that happens, the bigger the profits for us holding all that inventory."
Jung Hwan-yeop shrugged.
"Or we could just hold on and let them expire tomorrow. That might be even more profitable."
As she processed their conversation, Noh Heewon's eyes slowly widened in amazement.
"So basically, we're holding winning cards in both hands?"
"That's right. This shock is on a nuclear level. No matter how much money institutions pour in, they won't be able to stop the drop. And more importantly, there are only two days left until expiration, so there's no time to wait for the index to recover."
Hong Jae-hui nodded along and added,
"We kept buying put options right up until there were only two days left to expiry, fully expecting we might lose everything. I never imagined things would flip overnight like this. Right?"
"Exactly. It's like scratching a lottery ticket without thinking and suddenly hitting the jackpot."
If this really was just coincidence, the timing was so perfect it felt like a blessing from the heavens.
Leaning against the desk, Hong Jae-hui glanced sideways at Choi Ho-geun and cautiously asked,
"Don't tell me… the chairman predicted all this and told us to buy those put options?"
For a brief moment, silence fell over the office as everyone's curious gaze turned toward Choi Ho-geun.
Selling off all their stocks last month and then suddenly buying massive amounts of put options—it really did look as if he had known the market would crash.
Even Choi Ho-geun entertained the thought for a split second, then shook his head internally.
'This crash was triggered by a horrific terrorist attack. There's no way the chairman could've been involved in something like that.'
No matter how he looked at it, it was impossible.
"I already told you before. We were just responding to signs of a U.S. economic slowdown, and the timing happened to work out. Don't let strange rumors start spreading."
Choi Ho-geun spoke calmly as he looked around at the team.
Sensing the mood, Jung Hwan-yeop quickly lightened the atmosphere with a grin.
"Come on, even if the chairman has incredible foresight, he's not a prophet. There's no way he could predict a terrorist attack. Still, having both skill and luck on his side… I'm honestly jealous."
"That's true. Our chairman really is something else."
"This is what you call being born with money luck."
"I wish I had that kind of luck too."
As the team members went along with it and let the matter slide, Choi Ho-geun lightly clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention.
"Alright, enough small talk. The market's about to open, so focus."
"Yes, sir."
"Understood."
After hearing their responses, Choi Ho-geun stood with his arms crossed and looked at Yoo Seok-hyeon.
"Check how much September put-option selling volume has piled up so far."
Yoo Seok-hyeon quickly tapped on his keyboard, checked the data, and replied at once.
"Over 520,000 contracts."
"Oh. That's a lot."
Manager Jung Hwan-yeop widened his eyes in surprise.
Choi Ho-geun casually pulled out another cigarette and spoke as if it were no big deal.
"They made easy money selling options all this time, and now it's coming back to bite them."
"From the institutions' perspective, they were just doing business as usual, and now they've been hit by a bolt from the blue."
Lighting his cigarette, Choi Ho-geun exhaled a cloud of white smoke and replied,
"That's just how this game works."
"I suppose so."
Having spent years in Yeouido and seen countless people brought to ruin by unexpected variables, Jung Hwan-yeop gave a bitter smile as old memories surfaced.
"But once the index really starts crashing, we're going to get flooded with calls asking us to sell our options. What are you planning to do then?"
If others figured out where their bets were placed, it could invite unwanted pressure or attacks. That was why keeping their positions strictly confidential was a golden rule.
Still, buying and selling stocks or options inevitably went through brokers and exchanges, making it possible for others to roughly gauge what positions were being taken.
And in a situation like this, where they had aggressively swept up massive amounts of September put options, rumors were bound to spread.
"We can't exactly keep the phone lines disconnected forever either."
"Hmm."
As news of the large-scale terrorist attack in the United States spread and European markets collapsed under the shock, calls flooded into the asset management office from people trying to buy back their put options.
The phones rang nonstop to the point that it became impossible to work, so at Choi Ho-geun's instruction, all the lines had been unplugged.
In response to Jung Hwan-yeop's question, Choi Ho-geun recalled the instructions he had received earlier during his call with Seok-won in New York, right after the news of the attack broke.
[Since this is a terrorist attack on the scale of Pearl Harbor for Japan, the shock to the stock market will be extremely deep and powerful.]
"Then we'll just hold the options until expiration and settle them instead of selling, right?"
Normally, when options approached expiration, there were two choices: close the position or roll it over into the next contract month.
But this time, given the severity of the expected market collapse, it made sense to avoid rolling over and instead settle most of the positions to lock in profits.
Choi Ho-geun naturally assumed Seok-won would choose that option as well.
However, Seok-won's response went against his expectations.
[Let the foreign investors' positions run all the way to settlement, but for the domestic institutional positions, sell them at an appropriate price, as you see fit.]
"Wouldn't it be more profitable to just settle everything?"
[Of course it would.]
"Then why…?"
Choi Ho-geun tilted his head in confusion.
[As you said, settling would bring in far greater profits. But if the domestic market collapses like Europe did after being hit first, how much do you think the option returns will be?]
"At least a hundredfold, I'd say."
[If my prediction is right, prices will hit the lower limit, and the profits could be several hundred times over.]
"!"
Choi Ho-geun sucked in a sharp breath in shock.
[Then even by a conservative estimate, the side that sold the put options would suffer losses in the hundreds of billions of won, wouldn't they?]
"Yes… that's right."
[Major banks and securities firms might be able to absorb losses of that scale, but some of the smaller ones could face a liquidity crisis because of this.]
It was entirely plausible, and Choi Ho-geun nodded quietly with the phone still pressed to his ear.
[They've only just managed to get back on their feet after the foreign exchange crisis. We can't cripple the domestic financial sector just to make a few hundred billion more. So sell the options at a reasonable level. But there's no reason to show mercy to foreign investors, so liquidate those positions completely.]
Only then did Choi Ho-geun fully grasp Seok-won's deeper intention, and a wave of respect rose within him.
"I understand. I'll handle it as you said."
[Then I'll leave it to you.]
With that, Seok-won ended the call.
Exhaling a plume of white smoke as he cleared his thoughts, Choi Ho-geun turned to Jung Hwan-yeop.
"For today, we'll just hold our positions. Starting tomorrow afternoon, as expiration approaches, sell to domestic institutional investors at the highest prices possible. Ignore the foreigners."
"Yes, sir."
Jung Hwan-yeop rubbed his hands together with a grin, clearly eager.
"We'll squeeze them dry until there's nothing left. Heh."
"Don't go too far. Just take a reasonable cut."
"Heh heh. Leave it to me."
Choi Ho-geun let out a quiet chuckle as he drew in another breath of smoke.
Light and carefree in demeanor, almost frivolous at times, yet when it came to trading, his skill was unquestionable. Because of that, Choi Ho-geun felt no unease entrusting the matter to him.