Sumimoto Corporation Headquarters, Chuo Ward, Tokyo, Japan
Swoosh.
Manager Sugihara, who had rushed to the office at dawn, rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and washed his face with cold water in the empty restroom.
As he turned off the faucet and lifted his head, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His face hardened with a bitter expression.
The volatile copper prices had kept him on edge for days, robbing him of sleep. His face was rough, and his eyes were bloodshot.
On top of that, he had left home in such a hurry that he hadn't even shaved, leaving his stubble unkempt.
As he stared at his exhausted and worn-out reflection, an unsettling thought crept into his mind—was he fighting a battle he could never win?
Not long ago, he had been a predator, holding the copper market firmly in his grasp. But now, he was nothing more than prey, surrounded by a pack of ravenous hyenas, struggling to survive.
The past few weeks had been nothing short of a nightmare.
Despite his desperate efforts to curb the fall in copper prices, he had been blindsided by Chinese companies and dealt a heavy blow by the Eldorado Fund, putting everything on the brink of collapse.
He had barely managed to prevent prices from falling below $2,600 by acquiring 200,000 tons of physical copper and additional futures, but that had been his last resort—he had squeezed out every last drop of his resources.
The losses had already spiraled beyond control, and now, he had neither the means nor the strength to continue the fight.
"I wish I could just throw everything away and disappear somewhere."
Sugihara muttered weakly.
The staggering losses were a problem, but what unsettled him even more was the growing scale of the situation—so much so that he could no longer conceal it. At any moment, President Ito and the rest of the executives might catch on, and that fear gnawed at him.
Moreover, there was no guarantee that Eldorado Fund's attack had ended. It was impossible to predict when Chinese firms might dump even more physical copper onto the market.
A fleeting thought crossed his mind—what if, when prices first started to fall against his expectations, he had acknowledged his mistake, liquidated his holdings, and shifted his position?
But it was far too late for regrets now. He had come too far to turn back.
"How much longer can I hold out? A week? No... maybe just two days..."
Each passing day felt like it was draining the life out of him. The stress was so unbearable that he almost wished for everything to be exposed—just so he could finally escape this hell.
At that moment, his pager beeped loudly. Taking it out, he checked the display and frowned. It was the office number.
"They don't even give me a moment to breathe."
Sugihara leaned on the sink with both hands and let out a deep sigh.
He dreaded finding out what had happened this time.
He knew he needed to return to the office immediately, but his feet felt impossibly heavy.
Just as he hesitated, unwilling to face reality, hurried footsteps approached, and the restroom door burst open.
"Manager Sugihara!"
A newly hired employee, still in his dress shirt, ran inside, panting as he caught sight of Sugihara.
"Manager, you're here!"
"What's going on?"
Sugihara quickly concealed his moment of weakness and forced himself to speak in a composed tone.
The junior employee, his face pale as a sheet, cried out in panic.
"Sell orders are pouring in all at once! The spot price of copper has crashed below $2,600 and is plummeting!"
Sugihara's eyes widened in shock. Then, cursing under his breath, he bolted out of the restroom.
"Damn it!"
The office had turned into complete chaos, as if a bomb had just gone off. Phones were ringing incessantly, and shouts filled the air.
Riiing! Riiing!
"Check the New York market!"
"What?! More sell orders? This is insane!"
"CNMC just dumped another 30,000 tons! What the hell are those Chinese bastards thinking?!"
China Nonferrous Metal Mining Group (CNMC) was a state-owned mining company and one of the world's top three copper producers.
With a grim expression, Hashimoto, the balding head of the Non-Ferrous Metals Division, slammed his fist on his desk.
"Those damn Chinese!"
Fuming over CNMC and other Chinese firms relentlessly flooding the market with physical copper and making the crisis even worse, Hashimoto turned his head just in time to see Sugihara entering the office. He stormed toward him.
"With everything going to hell, where the hell were you?!"
Hashimoto barked in frustration.
Sugihara, staring blankly at the massive electronic board displaying international copper prices, looked dazed, his face drained of color. He stammered out a response.
"I-I was in the restroom."
"Tch!"
Clicking his tongue in irritation, Hashimoto pointed at the price board.
"You see what's happening? The copper market is getting annihilated. The hedge funds are shorting it aggressively, and now those damn Chinese are dumping physical copper in bulk. Prices aren't recovering anytime soon. Dump everything we have before we take an even bigger hit!"
Sugihara visibly flinched at the order and turned to Hashimoto in alarm.
"What? But the losses will be enormous!"
"Then what do you suggest we do?!"
Hashimoto scowled, pressing him for an answer.
"If we pull out now, we'll lose the market position we've built for years. But if we hold our ground and absorb the sell orders, the storm will pass. Once the price hits bottom, it's bound to rebound!"
Hashimoto's face twisted in displeasure.
"I get what you're saying, but the situation is too dire. We need to cut our losses before it gets any worse—sell the inventory now."
His firm command sent visible ripples through Sugihara's gaze.
"Just a little longer. Please, trust me one last time!"
Everything he had worked for was about to go up in smoke.
As Sugihara continued to resist, Hashimoto raised his eyebrows in annoyance.
"Why the hell are you arguing? Just do as you're told and sell!"
But even in the face of Hashimoto's furious demand, Sugihara hesitated, unable to answer immediately.
"Did you not hear me?!"
Hashimoto's scowl deepened as he pressed Sugihara once again to sell.
As their voices grew louder, the attention of the entire office turned toward them.
Realizing that there was no way to hide the losses any longer, Sugihara finally gave up. His shoulders slumped, and he spoke in a defeated voice.
"...We have too much inventory. If we sell now, the losses will be devastating."
Until now, Sugihara had been handling copper transactions on his own, only reporting them after the fact. Unaware of the exact stockpile, Hashimoto placed both hands on his hips, his face twisted in frustration.
"Just how much copper are we holding?!"
Sugihara hesitated, his lips moving soundlessly before he reluctantly answered.
"O-One point four million tons."
Hashimoto's eyes widened in shock.
Thinking he must have misheard, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked again in disbelief.
"Did you just say 1.4 million tons?!"
The surrounding employees, who had been listening, gasped audibly. The sheer volume of the inventory far exceeded their worst expectations.
"...Yes."
Sugihara couldn't even lift his head as he muttered the response.
Only then did Hashimoto fully grasp the gravity of the situation. His face turned deathly pale as he shouted, veins bulging in his neck.
"Have you lost your mind?! How could you hoard that much inventory and not report it to me?!"
Sugihara had no excuse. With his head hanging low, he simply accepted the scolding.
"I'm sorry."
Hashimoto, trembling with fury and disbelief, pushed on.
"How much have we lost?!"
Sugihara hesitated before answering in a barely audible voice.
"If we include the futures contracts we bought... the losses could reach 50 billion yen. No... it might be closer to 100 billion yen."
The staggering figure left Hashimoto utterly speechless. His mouth hung open in pure disbelief.
The other employees, equally horrified, turned their wide eyes toward Sugihara.
Apart from the oblivious ringing of telephones, an eerie silence filled the office.
As Hashimoto and the rest of the Non-Ferrous Metals Division reeled from the shock, Sugihara squeezed his eyes shut, his head bowed.
He could hear it—the sound of his career, built painstakingly over the years, crumbling into nothing.
*
The next morning.
As Seok-won stepped outside wearing a navy-blue suit, his aide, Han Ji-sung, followed closely behind.
In front of the villa, Joo Geun-seong, who had been waiting beside a large Mercedes-Benz sedan, quickly bowed his head.
"Good morning."
Seok-won smiled as he climbed into the back seat, assisted by Joo Geun-seong, who held the door open for him.
Closing the door and circling around to the driver's seat, Joo Geun-seong adjusted the rearview mirror and said,
"We'll be departing now."
Seok-won leaned back against the plush leather seat and gave a small nod. In response, Joo Geun-seong smoothly pressed the accelerator, setting the car in motion.
"President Ahn Byung-seok of Digital Wave reached out. He'd like you to visit the company whenever you have time."
Han Ji-sung, seated in the front passenger seat, turned around to relay the message. Seok-won's expression turned curious.
"Did he say what it was about?"
"Apparently, the prototype for their MP3 player has been completed."
Seok-won's eyes widened in surprise.
"Did he really say that?"
"Yes, I heard it clearly."
Astonished, Seok-won mentally counted the days.
By the original timeline, the MP3 player prototype wasn't supposed to be ready until the end of next year. But now, it was already complete.
'Did my involvement speed up the development process?'
That seemed to be the only logical explanation.
Thanks to Seok-won's financial backing, President Ahn Byung-seok had been able to focus entirely on MP3 player development without financial constraints.
Not only had Seok-won provided generous funding, but he had also ensured unrestricted access to essential MP3-related patents and technical data. With these resources, the project had progressed at an unprecedented pace.
On top of that, the enthusiasm of Ahn Byung-seok and Digital Wave's young, ambitious research team had propelled the development forward. In just a few short months, they had managed to produce a working prototype—a remarkable achievement.
Hearing this unexpected good news, Seok-won smiled and asked,
"Other than the executive meeting this morning, do I have any important appointments?"
Han Ji-sung checked the planner in his hand and said,
"At 2 PM, there's a meeting with the executives of Jo Sang-beom's virus research lab, which we've invested in."
"I don't need to be there in person. Have Executive Director Yoon attend in my place."
Since it wasn't a critical meeting, Han Ji-sung nodded and adjusted the schedule accordingly.
"Understood."
"Cancel all my afternoon appointments and contact President Ahn. Let him know I'll be visiting today."
"Yes, sir."
Just as Seok-won, his face filled with anticipation, was wondering what the world's first MP3 player prototype would look like, a vibrating sound came from his pocket.
He pulled out his newly acquired mobile phone and answered the call.
It was a Motorola StarTAC, a lightweight, foldable phone that had recently made waves in the market.
"Hello?"
[Boss! Sumitomo Corporation has finally surrendered!]
Landon's excited voice came through the receiver.
"What do you mean?"
[Since yesterday afternoon, they stopped defending copper prices and seemed to be just watching. But just moments ago, Sumitomo Corporation switched its position and started selling off its physical holdings and futures contracts.]
Realizing immediately that Sugihara's reckless actions had finally come to light, Seok-won's eyes gleamed with interest.
"That's excellent news."