The Return of the Ruined Chaebol's Third-Generation Heir - Chapter 6

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Regression of a Third-Generation Chaebol Heir in Ruin — Chapter 006
The Club Room, after everyone had gone.
Han Jae-i sat alone in a chair left behind, staring blankly at the whiteboard.
The smell of dry-erase marker still hung in the air, and one word remained on the board, circled boldly in red.
[Event-Driven Strategy]
Han Jae-i let out a long, slow breath.
Her head was buzzing.
The words Seon-woo had left behind drifted through her mind.
— We’re going with the Event-Driven Strategy.
Event-Driven.
A strategy that profits by identifying specific events capable of moving the market.
She knew the concept in theory — it was right there in the first chapter of any stock market primer.
But theory and reality were different things.
This was a domain that required dozens of analysts working through the night, supercomputers crunching data — and even then, the odds were barely in your favor.
And three high school students were supposed to pull it off?
Of course she’d pushed back.
— Easy to say. But that only works with perfect research. How are we supposed to get inside information? We’re retail investors. By the time any news breaks, the price has already moved — we’d just be chasing ghosts.
That was the moment.
When Kang Seon-woo had smiled and reached for the board marker.
— What do you think stocks are?
— …You’re buying into the value of a company, I suppose.
— Wrong. Stocks are buying people.
Seon-woo wrote the word “people” on the board.
— Information? Sure, it matters. But information alone can’t move a stock price. It’s the people who see that information and get excited — they’re the ones who move it.
His logic was shockingly simple, yet sharp enough to leave no room for rebuttal.
— Something happens. The public panics or cheers. When that emotion peaks, they hit the buy button. We eat the lag between those two moments.
— The lag?
— Yes. That brief window between when an event occurs and when the public reacts. The gap between when the news delivers the facts and when people reach for their wallets. People are dumber than you think — and more transparent than you’d expect. And sometimes, smarter than you’d give them credit for.
Seon-woo looked at the market the way a scientist looks at a psychology lab — as something to be observed and manipulated.
— No information edge because we’re high school students? If anything, this being a simulated investment rather than real trading means we can see things more intuitively. Strip away all the complicated formulas. Think about just one thing.
— And what’s that?
— What people fear right now, and what they desire. Read that, and we’re the ones who create the event.
We create the event.
That brazen, almost arrogant confidence.
At first she’d written it off as the bravado of a rich chaebol heir — someone regurgitating things he’d overheard and pretending to know more than he did.
But the methodology Seon-woo had laid out on the whiteboard was precise enough to raise goosebumps.
— Nothing in this world happens in isolation. Everything is connected.
Seon-woo drew a chain of boxes on the board, linked together like dominoes.
— Let’s say news breaks that war has erupted in the Middle East. What do people look at? Oil prices are going up — better buy refinery stocks. That’s as far as they get. That’s first-order thinking. And by the time the news is out, it’s already too late.
— So then?
— We look at the inevitable next step. Oil rises, shipping costs climb, and logistics companies see their margins crushed. Meanwhile, demand shifts toward alternative energy. Go one step further — because of rising transport costs, local manufacturing plants run at higher capacity, so the stocks tied to them benefit.
Kang Seon-woo circled the box at the far end of the chain.
— While everyone else is gaping at the first domino falling, we walk over to the fifth and sixth ones — the ones nobody’s watching — and open our mouths in advance. That’s how we profit from the lag.
— You’re saying… we can actually predict that?
— It’s not prediction. It’s the result of logical reasoning. A triggers B, and B leads to C. Trace the cause and effect, and you don’t need an information advantage. If the logic is sound, the outcome follows.
His reasoning had no gaps. No complex financial engineering, no insider knowledge — just common sense and logic used to find the market’s blind spots.
She’d considered herself practically unrivaled among high school investors, but thinking about the market in that way — dismantling it piece by piece like that — had never even crossed her mind.
“Ha……”
Han Jae-i looked down at her open notebook on the desk.
Moving Averages, Bollinger Bands, Volume Analysis… The figures packed tightly across the pages suddenly looked small.
“He got to me……”
She had no choice but to admit it.
His words had carried a strange persuasive pull, and before she knew it, she’d been drawn entirely into his logic.
It wasn’t about the money. She simply wanted the kind of vision Seon-woo possessed.
“Kang Seon-woo……”
Han Jae-i tapped her notebook lightly with her fingers.
What rose in her chest wasn’t fear — it was curiosity.
What exactly was this “flow of desire” Seon-woo kept talking about?
And could they really ride it?
“Just what are you, anyway?”

* * *
Five days before the competition’s registration deadline.
After school, Han Jae-i called Seon-woo and Min-jae to the center table of the Club Room with a look of solemn determination.
She peeled a sheet of paper from the whiteboard and spread it before them with a flourish.
“Ta-da — this is our team name.”
Written on the paper in thick marker were four words.
[The Correct Approach to Returns]
“Well? It grabs you, doesn’t it?”
Han Jae-i glanced between Seon-woo and Min-jae, her face glowing with pride.
A beat of silence followed.
Min-jae’s eyes darted around awkwardly before he forced a smile and began to clap.
“Ha-ha… You took it from that famous math textbook, didn’t you? Very student-appropriate. Nice ring to it, good meaning and all.”
I clicked my tongue inwardly.
‘Good old Min-jae. Already a pro at playing the social game.’
Applauding that corny naming sense like that.
Han Jae-i’s expectant eyes swung over to me.
Should I play along too?
I rested my chin on my hand and answered, flat and unhurried.
“It’s fine. Very… high school.”
“…What? Very high school?”
Han Jae-i’s eyebrow twitched. I gave a small smile and walked it back.
“I said it’s fine. It’s a high school competition — it makes us look bold. That’s good.”
Han Jae-i looked faintly dissatisfied, but she didn’t push it. She cleared her throat and moved things along.
“Ahem. Anyway — name settled. With the competition a week out, we need to start building the Portfolio in earnest from today.”
She checked her watch.
“Min-jae has his tutoring academy, so we’re short on time. One focused hour each day, that’s it. Understood?”
“Yes, understood.”
“Sounds good.”
The moment they got down to business, Han Jae-i’s eyes sharpened. The scatterbrained quality from a moment ago vanished, replaced by the face of a cool-headed analyst.
“I’ve been thinking about the Event-Driven Strategy you proposed, Seon-woo.”
“……”
“There’s merit to it. If we want to turn a profit in a short window, riding volatility is the right call. But the risk exposure is too high.”
She drew one large circle on the board and five smaller ones around it.
“So here’s my thinking — our Portfolio needs a more stable structure. A Hedge Strategy, essentially.”
“A hedge?”
Min-jae tilted his head. Inwardly, I was impressed.
I’d expected her to dismiss my idea and dig in on blue chips — instead, she’d absorbed it and made it her own.
“Think of it as insurance. The stock you bring in, Seon-woo, is our striker. Score a goal and it’s a jackpot — but miss and we’re done.”
Han Jae-i pointed to the large circle.
“If your prediction misses and that stock tanks, we’re dead last. So the other five positions need to offset that risk.”
“Offset it? How?”
“We pick stocks with a low Correlation Coefficient to whatever you bring in. Things that can hold their ground even if the market collapses.”
Han Jae-i wrote the words “absolute stability” on the board.
“Look at the market right now. Credit card debt crisis, instability everywhere. Foreign investors could pull out any day. In this kind of environment, tech stocks and growth plays can get wiped out in a single blow.”
Her analysis was accurate. The second half of 2003 was a period of contradiction — exports booming while domestic demand lay frozen solid.
“So the other five will be strictly Defensive Stocks. People don’t stop eating, stop using electricity, or stop making phone calls just because they’re broke.”
“Ah… so things like food and beverage, telecom, utilities?”
Min-jae nodded in understanding, and Han Jae-i smiled.
“Exactly. Companies like Nongwon, Korea Electric Power, or Mirae Telecom barely move even when the index craters. Even if your event pick fails, these five will protect the account. And if the event does go off? As long as these hold steady, we win.”
I sat with my arms folded and watched her.
‘As expected… Han Jae-i is something else.’
Most high school students — most amateur retail investors — chase the big score. But Han Jae-i started by calculating the worst case. Understanding the Portfolio’s balance meant that when I charged into battle with a spear, she’d be behind me, holding up the shield.
‘She’s becoming more and more valuable.’
She wasn’t just a sharp partner — it went beyond that.
With someone like her at my side, I could swing far more aggressively in the financial battles still to come.
She’d cover my back.
‘I need to make her mine, no question about it.’
I nodded, letting a satisfied smile settle on my face.
“Perfect. The idea is to build a solid defense so the striker can shoot without holding back, right?”
“Exactly. Any complaints?”
“None at all. If anything, I feel more secure.”
At the compliment, the tips of Han Jae-i’s ears flushed faintly. She gave a deliberate cough and erased the board.
“Alright, that’s enough explanation for today. I’m going to get the teacher’s approval and submit the registration form.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
“And homework — by tomorrow, both Min-jae and Seon-woo each bring one stock pick, researched and ready. Especially you, Kang Seon-woo — come with that big-talk event pick fully prepared. Dismissed!”
Han Jae-i scooped up the registration form and marched briskly toward the Staff Room; Min-jae grabbed his bag and bolted, muttering that he’d be late for his academy.
The Club Room empty again.
I gazed out the window and loosened my tie.
“Now it’s my turn.”
Han Jae-i had set the stage — now I needed to bring out the star who’d dance on it.

* * *
“Welcome, Team Leader Choi Dong-su.”
“Ma’am… no — Director. Thank you for calling on me.”
Meanwhile, Kang Seon-woo’s mother had summoned Choi Dong-su to verify what her son had told her.
She had been coming into the office and assuming the role of CEO for a week now.
“Please, sit.”
As Choi Dong-su took his seat, she studied him in silence.
His posture was composed, and he met her eyes without wavering.
“I’ve been meeting with various people to hear their thoughts on the company’s current state.”
She spoke first.
“I’ve listened to the executives. I’ve gotten a rough picture of the numbers the Creditors are looking at.”
Choi Dong-su’s eyebrow shifted almost imperceptibly.
In his experience, those two groups rarely told the same story.
“I wanted to hear from you as well. You’re the one in Finance Team who sees the company’s numbers up close.”
“……It’s an honor, but—”
Choi Dong-su paused to choose his words.
“I’m not sure where to begin. Whether you’d prefer I say things are fine, or whether you want the honest situation.”
The faintest curve touched the corner of her mouth.
This man was clearly different from everyone she’d spoken with so far.
“I’ve heard plenty of ‘things are fine.’ That’s probably how we ended up here.”
A brief silence settled over the room.
Buried in those words was the exhaustion of someone who had been deceived more than once.
“Do you know much about me, Team Leader Choi?”
Choi Dong-su said nothing. What he knew was what the world said — that she had spent her whole life devoted to her household.
She’d gone to university, but her degree was in the arts, about as far from business or finance as one could get.
“I see you do.”
“…I’ve only heard what people who enjoy gossip tend to say. I don’t truly know anything about you, Director.”
“Good. From this point on, I want you to speak freely — without worrying about my feelings. Say the things you think I don’t want to hear, the things you’re afraid will make me angry. I have no use for someone who dresses up the numbers to protect my dignity.”
She held his gaze.
“That’s why I’m asking. What is the state of this company right now? Where should I start being afraid?”
“……Within the next year, a considerable amount of short-term debt and corporate bonds are coming due. The internal projections are worse than anything that’s been disclosed publicly.”
She didn’t grasp every precise implication, but one thing came to her instinctively.
“……Is there any way to stop it?”
“If stopping it is the only goal — yes.”
“If stopping it is the only goal?”
“We sell the prime assets. The Resort land, the trading company’s Equity Stake — the best things first. That buys us a year.”
She turned the words over slowly. Selling the crown jewels to stay afloat — it felt like playing your last card before the hand was even finished.
“But.”
Choi Dong-su continued.
“After that, there’s nothing left. With the current structure, if another wave like this hits, there’ll be nothing left to give up. We’ll have stripped ourselves down to survive, and only the shell will remain.”
She had been listening with her eyes closed. Now she opened them.
“Then, in your view……”
“Director, I’m in finance — not strategy.”
Choi Dong-su shook his head.
“But looking at the numbers alone — simply selling off the best assets and holding on is the worst option. If we do sell, we should get the best possible price, and beyond that, we need to find new business and grow future Cash Flow.”
“……Future Cash Flow.”
“That, I’m afraid, falls within your domain, Director.”
Choi Dong-su left it there.
“My role is only to take whatever direction is given and find the optimal path forward.”
She nodded slowly.
There was no exaggeration in his voice, no posturing.
“I understand, Team Leader Choi Dong-su.”
She reached her decision.
“Starting tomorrow, you report directly to me. Your title will be Head of Corporate Strategy.”
“Pardon?”
“Whatever I choose to do, I need someone who can find the optimal way to execute it. Right now, I believe that person is you — Team Leader, or rather, Head Choi.”
At that, Choi Dong-su stared at her, his expression still caught in surprise.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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