It's bound to do one round of shaking out the ants and then rise again.
'The foreigners know it too. That this stock is a good one.'
Sora, already deep in the red, has no choice but to spin her hope circuit.
Clinging to that hope.
💥 CRITICAL HIT! 💥
─Foreign investors wrecked!
─Ant wrecked!
Double kill on the enemy!
Foreign investors ended the institutions' ant massacre!
─Foreign investors wrecked!
−562,321 won (−20.2%)
Every time she cuts her losses, she watches her account melt away. She just can't do it.
Maybe just holding still is the way to lose less.
'I want to die.'
Trader.
A profession that invests.
Among white-collar jobs, it's at the very top.
Earning maximum money with minimal labor.
All with just one eye for spotting a company's future value.
'I don't get it.'
Heaven and hell are just a paper's thickness apart.
If there's someone making money, there has to be someone losing it.
And she could be the one losing.
Sora hugs her knees, mulling over what was probably inevitable.
💥 CRITICAL HIT! 💥
─Ant wrecked!
Even now, her account is melting away.
It flickers with a brief recovery now and then.
But it's still endlessly far from principal.
Her chest feels stuffy, suffocating her breath.
Gurgle~!
But the body is honest.
No matter how miserable or upset she is, people have to eat to live.
'Maybe some instant ramen.'
She has no money.
She doesn't deserve it.
After losing money on stocks, how dare she add oil to the fire?
Instant ramen as self-discipline.
Even so, when they're piled up like this...
'...'
She hadn't even had time to clean them up.
On one corner of the desk, empty ramen cups are stacked.
In front of the bathroom, a pile of laundry.
In the sink, un-rinsed dishes overflowing.
'Ah.'
And herself in the mirror.
Unwashed for days, grimy and unkempt.
Matted hair and hollow eyes ringed with dark circles.
Pathetic.
Not some shut-in or hikikomori, yet living in this filthy room looking like this.
'What the hell am I doing?'
Even more shocking was that she hadn't noticed until just now.
Her mind had been that out of it.
The trader life she'd dreamed of.
Was it really this precarious, like walking a rooftop railing?
'If I can just get through this time, just this once...'
She'd study more, prepare more.
Trading really isn't easy.
She hadn't invested in a company that wouldn't rise.
It'll give her an escape chance at least once.
Then she'll pull herself together and recover.
Hope circuit.
But reality isn't so lenient.
💥 CRITICAL HIT! 💥
─Legendary JP Morgan!
It won't drop to the price the ant wants.
The buy wall crumbles in droves.
Gulp!
But it's not over yet.
Throw in more funds, and she might catch a reversal.
'Money I absolutely can't lose...'
Of course, there's risk.
The money so far was spare cash.
New Year's money, part-time savings, allowance from parents.
[Web Transfer] Yoon＊ra, 4,700,000 won transferred successfully.
This is different.
She's dipping into rent and living expenses for the semester in advance.
'Recover and make it up. Recover and it'll be fine.'
If she loses it?
Her daily life falls apart.
She might have to borrow from her parents.
Fear.
Trembling, Sora transfers from bank to brokerage account.
Because she can make it up again.
Stocks don't just keep falling forever.
'This is oversold territory. Average down and exit when it bounces.'
'Averaging down'.
Buying more when the stock has dropped too much to lower your average cost.
⚔ TRADE EXECUTED ⚔ ─Buy order filled!
It's been dropping nonstop these past few days.
Now if it bounces back, she can recover her account.
She doesn't even need full principal.
Just get close, cut losses, and never look at stocks again.
'Trader... can I really do this?'
The conviction she held.
Endless data gathered, days of agonizing decisions.
But does a right call make the stock rise?
She has no idea now.
💥 CRITICAL HIT! 💥
─Ant wrecked!
All she can do is wait endlessly.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The group project is going decently.
'Well, this much is a piece of cake.'
What she's actually looking forward to is three months from now.
She was honestly worried about her grades after pissing off the profs.
Skill.
If she can be rated as her specialty, perfect.
She wants to stick it to the water rocket prof too.
"Sora's gone radio silent?"
Something else came up.
Hye-ri asks me accusingly with an angry look.
"She skipped this week's lecture too."
"Didn't do the assignment?"
"She sent the assignment. But she's not replying to messages."
No big deal.
'A girl's angry face doesn't always mean she's angry.'
Personal reasons.
Perfectly understandable.
But as a friend, she's worried.
"Maybe avoiding coming to school 'cause she doesn't wanna deal with you?"
"..."
"We just happened to be in the same group."
"You too?"
She could blame anything.
According to the girls' wild guesses, maybe she's not coming because of me.
'Looks like she wants to make up too.'
Hye-ri and Soo-hyun.
We got somewhat close doing the group project.
I helped a lot with the academic stuff too.
But she's best friends with Sora, their sworn enemies.
Caught between friends, it's thorny, sure.
"Maybe she just got a boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?!"
"Sora?"
"First boyfriend in college, and she holes up monkeying around all day."
""...""
If she doesn't want to come, what can you do.
My only crime is digging up the truth.
'Korean society has such an aversion to truth.'
After hearing me out, they can't go.
I got voluntold to check on Sora instead.
"Anyone home?"
Probably to make them reconcile too.
Awkward if they're actually banging.
Knock! Knock!
I arrive at the address Hye-ri gave me.
Was worried it might be her parents' house on the way.
'Nice place.'
Thankfully, it's a studio.
Two rooms.
Not an officetel, but good location, clean building.
'Come out, you bitch!'
Rich parents making her spoiled?
I ring the bell, knock, but no answer.
I toned it down pretending to be a female friend.
Not wasting more time, about to leave.
Creeeak—!
The door opens very cautiously, no, heavily.
Like the person pushing is some invalid.
"Who is it...?"
"It's me."
"Wha—what?! Why are you..."
She startles like seeing someone she shouldn't, slams the door.
Expected that, wedged my foot in.
"Open up."
"Wh-what the hell, suddenly!"
"You're opening it anyway."
No way she beats a guy in strength.
Thought so, but her chest must be a power engine or something.
'She's tough.'
I ease off once.
Then when she's off guard, push hard with foot and hand at once.
"Kyaa!"
I shove through.
Told her nicely, now deal with it.
She tumbles out onto the entryway.
Her own fault.
I warned her, no apologies.
"What a mess?"
"I-I told you not to come in. I'll call the cops!"
"You sure? In this state?"
"..."
There was one more reason.
Peeking inside after opening the door.
A trash heap.
The owner herself looks like she rolled around in it, disheveled.
Lives dirty at home?
Normal person stops there.
'Yeah, life's a battlefield, titty girl.'
A stock trader would guess right away.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 📰 Quote of the Day "Everyone has a plan 'till they get punched in the mouth." — Mike Tyson
Mike Tyson's famous quote fits the situation perfectly.
"You crazy bitch..."
"I was startled. Why cuss?"
"If it were you getting slapped, you wouldn't cuss?!"
Because she slapped me.
Didn't expect a slap just for visiting my junior's place.
"Sorry for hitting you."
"Why do something you'd apologize for?"
"What the hell. No warning, no heads-up."
I did barge in a bit forcefully.
But if she closes the door, no way to reopen.
'Maybe she's just in panties.'
Happens sometimes.
Girls who hate wearing clothes at home.
Morning time, plausible.
Even if not, worth seeing.
White t-shirt sparks imagination.
Too bad not dolphin pants.
"You're the one skipping, so."
"..."
"Thought you were holed up banging like monkeys with your boyfriend all day, so I came."
"Why does it turn into that?!"
Even ○cketmon trainers feel the hit.
She's seriously flustered I showed up.
'Friends come over, could be 3P.'
If you're a top-tier alpha male.
That's why I came instead.
Other kind of 3P welcome too.
"Just... been home."
"Stormy teen phase?"
"I have personal stuff too!"
"Bullshit. Probably got burned trading stocks."
"..."
Unfortunately, she was living a lukewarm life.
Twenty years old.
How does she not hook up in that fresh prime.
'With a body like a sex machine.'
The only talent I've acknowledged at this school.
Body care looks off somehow.
"Not that..."
"Show me your account."
"No way."
"Ugh~ Geez."
Matted long hair.
That slim waist feels a bit thicker now.
The cause?
Plain as day on the cluttered computer desk.
"Staring at the order book all day, slurping ramen."
"..."
"Does that create skill out of nowhere? Make falling stocks rise? Just messing around racks up more losses."
Hit the mark, it seems.
She whips her head away, glaring at the innocent monitor.
The screen is on.
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