raknovel Chapter 31 | Planning
Chapter 31 | Planning
After work that day, Cao Yisen stopped by the convenience store near his apartment to buy a microwaveable bento box and a can of Coke before returning to his small two-bedroom apartment.
When I opened the door, the house was very quiet.
There was no sound of variety shows, nor Cao Rouli's screams as she sang a demo off-key in the living room. There was only the "hum" of the refrigerator compressor starting up, as if to remind that someone still lived here.
He threw the lunchbox into the microwave, pressed the button for two minutes, then turned around and went to his desk to turn on his computer.
The screen lit up, and there were still a few charts he had made a few days ago on the desktop, but this time he didn't click on any of them. Instead, he created a new spreadsheet.
The first line reads:
"Objective: First, raise the initial funds for treatment."
Starting from the second line, he typed in every single item he could think of.
1. Existing deposits
Personal current account: $2,400
Securities Accounts: 0
Cash: Tens of thousands of Korean won (negligible)
This body was a typical spendthrift before, spending her salary on going out to play, eat, and buy little gadgets. Fortunately, she still had some spare money from her time studying abroad.
$2,400.
That works out to just over two million Korean won, which might not even be enough to cover the cost of one course of treatment at the hospital cashier.
"This is too shabby."
He muttered to himself, but his hands still obediently typed in the numbers.
2. The deposit for my sister's house
He added a line below:
"Seoul rental deposit: approximately 3 million Korean won (≈ US$25)"
This is what Cao Yuli painstakingly saved up over the years during her activities with IZ*ONE, plus company payments and some support from her family.
In Seoul, this is already considered an "upper-middle level" asset.
"In theory, this is a huge amount of idle funds."
Cao Yisen's Wall Street professional habits are starting to resurface—
The deposit sits there doing nothing, with an annualized return of almost zero; if this money could be "activated," it would be like a bullet falling from the sky.
The problem is—that wasn't his bullet.
His fingers hovered on the keyboard for a few seconds, then he added a small note next to it:
"※The risk is extremely high. You should talk to your sister before taking any action."
3. Possibility of salary & advance payment
Next, we see his new job:
PLEDIS's pre-tax monthly salary: 320 million Korean won (including subsidies)
"Estimated net worth: approximately 240 million"
Fixed expenses: Rent + utilities + food + transportation ≈ 150 million
Theoretical monthly surplus: 90
He looked at the line and smiled.
"Theoretical monthly balance".
For office workers who have just received their first paycheck, these four words are basically equivalent to "dream value." In reality, there will always be a bunch of unexpected expenses—dinners, birthdays, and occasionally treating colleagues to coffee.
Even if you miraculously manage to save 900,000 won a month, it would only amount to a little over 10 million won a year.
Compared to treatment costs starting at "billions," this speed is like using a water gun to put out a fire.
He added another line:
"Is it possible to receive an advance on salary???"
He followed this line with three question marks.
Entertainment companies are not investment banks; advance payments of salaries are rare. Even if it's negotiable, it's unlikely that they would advance a "game-changing" amount.
"It's at most emergency money."
He added a note next to it: "Not intended as a primary fundraising channel."
4. Mike's side
Finally, he created a new subheading:
"Potential: Mike"
The following two lines were typed:
Mike's year-end bonus: tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of US dollars.
Are you willing to lend it?
Cao Yisen added a question mark after the comment.
When he thought of this person, he quickly pictured a somewhat nonchalant white American face, holding a beer and shouting "bro" into the phone.
Some time ago, he gave advice on those two stocks, "Blue Core" and "Speedy", half-jokingly and half-seriously. The market did give him an opportunity, and Mike followed suit, earning tens of thousands of US dollars in commissions.
Given Mike's personality, it's not impossible for him to pull out ten or twenty thousand dollars to "play a game with his brothers."
The problem is—this is borrowed money. In his previous life, he had already messed things up once with other people's money. He doesn't want to make the same mistake again in this life.
He thought for a moment and typed a note:
"※We only accept 'voluntary partnerships' and do not accept simple loans."
The meaning is very simple—
If you want to play with me, fine. We'll share the profits, and you'll accept the losses; but it can't be the kind of relationship where "you come to collect your debts whenever I lose." Otherwise, we'll inevitably end up in the same situation as in my previous life.
The form is filled out here for now; the row of numbers on the screen looks both concrete and brutal.
$2,400 in existing cash, $250,000 in potential deposits, plus a little bit of "friendship capital" that might be able to leverage.
He closed his notebook, leaned back in his chair, and looked up at the ceiling for a while.
"No matter how I look at it, the first step has to be myself."
Once this statement is made, many paths are automatically eliminated.
He picked up his phone and sent Cao Rou a Kakao message:
[Yisen]: Nuna, how's Mom doing?
[Cao Rouli]: Just fell asleep. I feel pretty good today. What about you? Are you at home?
【逸森】：In.
[Cao Rouli]: Eat properly, don't always eat from convenience stores.
He hesitated for a moment, then typed the next sentence:
[Yisen]: By the way, I'm calculating the money.
[Yisen]: I plan to find a way to earn more money to treat my mother's illness.
[Yisen]: Your deposit for this Seoul apartment... might need to be partially touched later. I'm letting you know in advance.
After sending the message, he himself felt that his words were a bit too direct.
The screen remained silent for a few seconds.
He was just about to imagine a bunch of replies like "Are you crazy?" or "I worked so hard to save this up" when his phone vibrated.
[Cao Rouli]: The deposit, huh?
Another one followed:
[Cao Rouli]: After thinking about it...
[Cao Rouli]: The house can be rented again.
[Cao Rouli]: I only have one mom.
The last message was typed very slowly, as if it had been carefully considered before being sent:
[Cao Rouli]: If you think you can recoup your losses more easily, then go ahead and use it. It's okay.
The few lines of text seemed casual and nonchalant, but Cao Yisen could almost picture her wrinkling her nose and desperately trying to pretend that "it's no big deal."
He swallowed back all the prepared arguments he had prepared, such as "Don't rush, a house is the bottom line," and felt a tightness in his throat.
He replied:
[Cao Yisen]: The deposit is the last line of defense.
[Cao Rouli]: Well done, Mr. Wall Street's big short seller.
[Cao Rouli]: If you dare to make us both sleep on the streets...
[Cao Rouli]: I'll sell you to become a male idol.
Finally, it also included an angry little lion emoji.
He couldn't help but laugh and replied with a crying-laughing emoji:
[Yi Sen]: Don't worry, this time I'm only betting on myself, not on our family.
[Cao Rouli]: Then go be...
[Cao Rouli]: To earn a little more back
[Cao Rouli]: My mom is happier than anyone else to see you working so hard.
The conversation ended there, the atmosphere lightened a bit, but it also gave Cao Yisen a little more confidence.
Cao Yisen placed his phone face down on the table, knowing full well what was going on—
The older sister was able to give up the deposit with a simple "It's okay" because she always considered herself "the one in the family who could give it another shot."
This time, it wouldn't be reasonable for him to try and slack off again. He took a deep breath, reopened his laptop—this time not to Excel, but to a foreign brokerage website. He looked at his previously opened brokerage account, clicked a few times, and the system prompted:
"Your account will be ready for trading within 1–2 business days."
(Your account will be allowed to trade within 1-2 business days)
He stared at the words for a long time.
"Okay, before that," he said to himself, "I'll make all the calls I need to make."
He switched to his contacts, found "Mike's" name, and tapped it. His finger hovered over the dial pad, hesitated for a second, and then put it down. He felt awkward even asking to borrow money directly.
A few minutes later, he changed his approach and sent a message first:
[Ethan]: How's our Wall Street rising star doing lately? Is his bonus this year enough to buy me hamburgers for the rest of my life?
He replied almost instantly.
[Mike]: BRO!!! You finally remembered me!!!
[Mike]: Forget burgers, I can treat you to the whole Five Guys restaurant right now.
[Mike]: I'm still thinking about those two tickets you mentioned last time.
Cao Yisen looked at these lines and a slight smile appeared on his lips.
【Ethan】: That's perfect.
[Ethan]: I've been thinking about a "new project" recently. It's not low-risk, but I think the odds are good.
[Ethan]: Interested in listening, partner?
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, followed by a series of voice call requests.
The screen was lit, and vibrations came steadily from his palm. Cao Yisen stared at the "answer" button, knowing exactly what was going on—
From the moment he pressed the button, his lifelong "retirement plan" was officially redesigned.
The phone continued to vibrate in Cao Yisen's hand. He stared at the large "MIKE" on the caller ID, which made his eyes hurt a little.
He stared at it for a few seconds, then pressed the answer button.
"Bro—!" The moment the call connected, the familiar high-decibel voice came through the other end, "What new project did you say? I just saw your message, and I jumped out of bed!"
"WTF? You're still in bed at eight in the morning?" Cao Yisen put on his headphones, took the lunchbox out of the microwave, and put it on the table. "Is the red-light district that quiet lately?"
"Don't even mention it," came the sound of someone turning over a blanket from Mike's end. "This year's bonuses are barely enough to survive, but we've already cut three analysts on this floor. If you pull off another BlueCore-like move, I'll build a shrine to you and worship you every day."
Cao Yisen chuckled: "Forget about establishing a divine position, just keep an eye on the margin interest rate for me."
"Good grief, you're talking about leverage right off the bat. What are you even doing?"
"An old friend." He opened the can of Coke, the bubbles bursting in his mouth, his voice mingling with the rapid breathing on the other end of the microphone. "The gaming place."
Which one?
"That company that sells game cartridges and used game consoles offline, they have stores everywhere." He didn't bother to name it, only pointing out key features, "Don't you investment banks always criticize it, saying it's an 'outdated business model'?"
Mike was silent for a second before immediately reacting: "You mean Game... that company? Are you kidding me? We basically treat that thing as a textbook example of a speculative investment."
"That's what makes it interesting." Cao Yisen poked at the pitiful chicken in the bento box with his chopsticks. "High short positions, pessimistic fundamentals, and management shirking responsibility—I know all that. But aren't you overlooking a certain group of people?"
"Who?"
"Bored retail investors with a bit of money, plus a bunch of young people holding call options who don't know their place." He said calmly, "You stare at the financial statements every day, but you forget that this company is a bit special—it's tied to the childhood and nostalgia of an entire generation. As long as someone is willing to ignite that emotion, short positions are like gasoline."
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, as if someone had sat up.
"Wait, don't give me that weird stuff." Mike lowered his voice. "What did you see?"
"Forums, options trading, trading volume, and your short positions," Cao Yisen took a sip of his cola. "I have enough publicly available data. The open interest is a bit abnormal; the call options are piling up too fast in a short period of time. Someone is clearly pushing the snowball."
"Do you think there will be a short squeeze?"
“I think this is it,” he paused, “if you continue to underestimate it, sooner or later someone will step on your heads and push the price up. It’s not a fundamental reversal, it’s sentiment and leverage that will push the price from where you thought it was ‘impossible’ to a level where you have no choice but to buy it back.”
Mike took a breath, clearly aroused: "Be more specific. What are you planning to do?"
"My account is still under review," he said frankly. "I won't be involved myself in the short term. If you want to play, I only have one piece of advice: don't go all in, don't do value investing, treat it as a high-risk, high-volatility short-term gamble."
"What direction?"
"You're all shorting it, I can't let you go against your boss." Cao Yisen smiled. "Your choice. Either secretly go long on the stock, or buy some deep out-of-the-money call options, like a lottery ticket. The premise is that you should know that if you lose everything, you can't blame anyone else."
Mike didn't speak immediately, but seemed to be typing something rapidly on the computer.
After a pause, he lowered his voice: "You know, some of the people here who research that company are too lazy to even update their models. Everyone assumes it will only get worse. And you're telling me there's a chance to turn things around?"
"I'm just telling you that someone's already planting explosives under the table." Cao Yisen stirred up the bento box. "As for whether they'll all explode, that depends on luck, and also on whether you short sellers are afraid."
"Holy shit..." Mike couldn't help but swear. "Your tone is so familiar. You said the same thing last time with Bluecore and Speedata. As a result, I followed suit and made almost $100,000 more in commissions."
"The risks this time are much greater than last time," Cao Yisen warned. "Last time, the fundamentals were on my side; this time, it's emotions pulling us in different directions. If you want to play this game, you have to accept one fact—it might drop for a while first, making you feel like a fool, before it starts to take off."
"How high can it go?"
"I don't know," he said bluntly. "But I do know one thing: your current short positions have already set up a very long fuse for the bulls."
The keyboard clicks on the other end of the phone stopped.
"Ethan."
"Um?"
"Are you... coming back again?" Mike asked tentatively. "I mean, the real 'coming back'."
The question was asked lightly, but it felt like a pebble thrown into his heart.
In his previous life, he did indeed climb up the ladder by "seeing structures that others couldn't see," but in the end, he also stepped on the landmines of leverage and greed, and was blown to pieces.
Now, he was just a content operations staff member at an entertainment company who looked at reports, calculated data for girl groups, and watched girl groups dance.
"No." He smiled, but his tone tightened. "This time it's not to go back to Wall Street, it's for my own family."
Mike was stunned: "What happened to your house?"
"My mother is sick and needs a lot of money." He didn't intend to go into details, "but you can simply understand it as—I need some start-up capital to tie myself to the table."
"...Damn." After a few seconds of silence, the other person lowered their voice, "You should have said so earlier."
"That's why I came to you," Cao Yisen joked, half-jokingly. "After all, you're the only investment banking guy I'm willing to listen to my long-winded explanations."
Mike chuckled roughly, then quickly suppressed it: "Okay, then. I can't explicitly say I'll use company funds to play this game with you, but I'll set aside some of the funds I have in my own account and allocate them according to your plan."
He paused for a moment, then continued, "Aren't you going to join?"
"Once my account is approved, I'll definitely be in," Cao Yisen said. "But until then, just think of yourself as a beta tester, haha."
"If we lose money, it's on me; if we make money..."
"If I make money, you can treat me to hamburgers for the rest of my life," Mike casually picked up for Cao Yisen.
"Also, a round-trip ticket between New York and Seoul every year."
"You're quite the negotiator, aren't you?" Mike laughed. "Alright, it's settled then."
He seemed to suddenly become excited: "Bro, to be honest, when you say things like that, I get a familiar feeling—like when we first graduated, squatting by the window in that bar near Downtown, you were drawing a diagram for me with a napkin, saying that a certain stock 'has a structural problem'."
"Then you get a hangover the next day and forget how much you bought," Cao Yisen added.
"But in the end, I still made money." Mike retorted, "You were born to do this, don't fool yourself."
At the end of the call, Mike confirmed again: "So, this is the first card you've truly played since graduation?"
Cao Yisen gripped the can tightly in his hand, and felt a chill run down his spine when he heard the phrase "after graduation."
"It's the first time," he said. "So you need to remember one thing."
"explain."
"Don't treat me like a god," he said slowly. "I just know a little better than you how this kind of situation works and how it ends."
After a few seconds of silence, the person on the other end finally laughed: "Okay. Then I'll pretend I'm working with someone who peeked at a market chart from the future."
The call ended, the screen went black, and Cao Yisen took a big gulp of soda. The only sound in the room was the gurgling of the soda in the can.
Cao Yisen sat in his chair, staring at the ceiling, the words he had just heard still echoing in his ears:
"Are you coming back again?"
He let out a long breath, picked up his chopsticks, and casually took a bite of rice.
"It's not about going back," he told himself. "It's just about changing places, changing times, and settling accounts with the market again."