Late at night, at the Mapo Han River riverside park.
A lone figure stood motionless by the deserted roadside, illuminated only by the occasional streetlight.
The faint glow of a cigarette briefly revealed his sharp features—a man in his early thirties.
His name was Yoo Jun-ho, a senior reporter for the business section of Sechang Daily, one of the country's four major newspapers.
Despite wearing a thick coat, the biting winter wind from the river seeped through, making him shiver.
Pulling his collar tighter, he exhaled a stream of white smoke and narrowed his eyes as the bright headlights of an approaching car cut through the darkness.
The silver Hyundai Sonata II slowed to a stop in front of him.
Jun-ho dropped his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and stepped forward.
The tinted window rolled down, revealing the face of Oh Sang-hyun, a section chief behind the wheel.
"Get in."
Jun-ho glanced around, making sure no one was watching, then quickly opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.
The Sonata pulled away again, heading toward a public parking lot a short distance away before coming to a complete stop.
With the engine off, the headlights dimmed, plunging the area into darkness.
The vast, empty parking lot—nearly devoid of cars at this late hour—felt eerie in the cold night air.
"Jeez, it's freezing," Jun-ho muttered, rubbing his hands together as he settled into his seat.
"This place is fine and all, but the winter wind off the Han River is brutal. Next time, let's meet somewhere else. I swear, I almost froze to death out there."
Sang-hyun ignored his chatter, reaching into the door pocket and pulling out a thin manila envelope.
"I need you to write an exposé."
Jun-ho smirked. "Well, let's see if it's worth my time first."
He opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. As soon as he saw the photograph of the target, his brow furrowed, and he glanced up.
"This guy… isn't he Choi Bok-rak, a manager at the Financial Supervisory Service?"
Sang-hyun, unfazed by the look, gave a silent nod.
Jun-ho wasn't just a corrupt journalist who wrote articles for a price—he was a seasoned veteran with over ten years in the industry.
It didn't take him long to put the pieces together. His eyes gleamed as he let out a knowing chuckle.
"Oh-ho. Wasn't he the one making a fuss about investigating Boseong Telecom and that stock manipulation case involving Donghae Peregrine Securities employees?"
A smirk slowly formed on his face as another thought struck him.
"Rumor had it that the small fries got caught, but the real mastermind was Donghae Group's eldest son. Looks like that rumor was true."
"Tsk."
Oh Sang-hyun pulled a thick envelope from his inner pocket, his expression sour.
Yoo Jun-ho opened it, revealing a neat stack of ten-thousand-won bills.
Judging by the thickness alone, it was clearly more than a month's salary for a journalist.
Yet, Jun-ho remained unimpressed, his face indifferent as he muttered,
"This isn't enough."
Sang-hyun narrowed his eyes, irritated by the tone.
"It's the same amount as always. What do you mean, not enough?"
"Come on now, this is a different situation. We're talking about Donghae Group's eldest son here."
Jun-ho picked up the manila envelope resting on his lap and gave it a shake, feigning nonchalance.
"And from what I can tell, you're trying to blow up a minor issue just to bring someone down. If you want it to be convincing, I'll have to massage the story a bit, which means extra effort on my part. Shouldn't that be compensated?"
He rubbed his thumb and index finger together in a money-counting gesture, a sly grin forming on his lips.
It was clear what he was doing—he'd figured out that this was about Woo Ho-geun and was trying to squeeze more money out of the deal.
Sang-hyun saw right through him. But as greedy as Jun-ho was, there were few people who could handle a job this neatly.
In the end, Sang-hyun clicked his tongue in irritation but nodded.
"I'll send another envelope tomorrow."
Only then did Jun-ho flash a satisfied smile and ask,
"When do you need the article published?"
"As soon as possible."
"Got it. Once I get the rest of the money, I'll write it up. Just sit tight."
Jun-ho tucked the envelope into the inside pocket of his coat.
Then, holding the manila folder in one hand, he stepped out of the car.
Sang-hyun watched as Jun-ho disappeared into the darkness, then muttered under his breath,
"That bastard's a real piece of work."
Still, the plan was in place.
All that was left was to frame Choi Bok-rak as a corrupt official who had taken bribes for job placements.
It would ruin the man's life, but Sang-hyun felt no guilt.
If anything, he thought of it as delivering just punishment.
"That's what happens when you don't know your place."
His voice was as cold as the night air.
Turning the ignition, he pulled out of the empty parking lot.
* * *
A few days later.
As if living up to its name, Daeseol—the day of the year with the heaviest snowfall—had blanketed the city in white since dawn.
Seok-won stood by his office window, gazing at the snow-covered streets while speaking with Landon in New York.
[We've completed the short-selling orders as per your instructions.]
"You used tenfold leverage, right?"
[That's right. We poured a staggering $20 billion into the market over three days, but since the shorted stocks are all massive corporations with high trading volume, the price didn't drop as much as expected. The market absorbed everything.]
Seok-won's response was calm, as if he had anticipated this outcome.
"If we had funneled all $20 billion into a single stock, it would've been a different story. But splitting it across ten different stocks naturally diluted the impact. Besides, the recent internet boom has kept the market strong."
[Exactly.]
"Our goal wasn't to drive prices down with sell orders in the first place. The fact that the stocks held steady actually worked in our favor—we were able to sell at higher prices, which means more profit."
Seok-won viewed the situation optimistically.
[That's true. Still, after closing the short positions, watching the stock prices rebound past our sell levels had me on edge. I was worried we'd have to post additional margin just to maintain our positions.]
Landon exaggerated his concern, prompting a chuckle from Seok-won as he held the phone.
[Fortunately, we didn't get any margin call notices. One of our shorted stocks dipped back down just in time, so we dodged a bullet.]
"I heard Speaker Savitz made a firm statement at the funeral of the assassinated Israeli Prime Minister, saying there would be no concessions."
Eric Savitz was a senior Republican congressman from Georgia, serving since 1978.
A staunch conservative, he played a key role in the midterm elections last year, helping the GOP regain a House majority for the first time in 40 years.
As a result, he was elected Speaker of the House—again, the first Republican to hold the position in four decades.
'With the House controlled by the opposition party, a showdown with the White House was inevitable.'
To solidify his stance and secure an upper hand in next year's presidential race, Savitz had no choice but to maintain a hardline approach.
[Yes. His interview triggered a strong response from the White House, and now Wall Street is growing increasingly uneasy, fearing a prolonged government shutdown.]
As a result, the New York stock market, which had been on an upward trend, began to stall, while the price of gold—a classic safe-haven asset—started climbing.
"If they fail to reach a deal next week and the government shuts down for an extended period, that's when the real fear will kick in."
Landon's tone turned serious.
[How long do you think the shutdown will last?]
"I'm not a fortune teller, so I can't say for sure. But given how both sides are digging in their heels, it'll probably last longer than the last shutdown."
Seok-won smirked, shrugging.
"Who knows? It might even set a new record for the longest shutdown in history."
[Good grief. If that happens, it'll be a disaster.]
"A game of chicken always ends in mutual destruction. Both the Republicans and the White House know that. They'll reach a compromise before things get truly dire."
[That may be true, but until then, the market will be gripped by fear.]
Landon let out a weary sigh.
"The more investors panic and dump their stocks, the more profit we'll make from our short positions. All we have to do is ride the wave of fear and cash out at the right moment."
[If only it were that easy.]
Seok-won simply chuckled, knowing that despite Landon's complaints, he'd handle things just fine when the time came.
"Keep a close watch on Washington, especially Speaker Savitz. His every move will be crucial."
[We're already tapping all our sources to monitor the situation in real-time.]
Seeing Landon take initiative without waiting for instructions made Seok-won smile in satisfaction.
"Good. Keep me posted on any developments."
[Understood.]
Ending the call, Seok-won gazed out the window, a faint smile playing on his lips as he anticipated the chaos soon to engulf Wall Street.
"A final chance to make a big haul before the real game begins."
Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and his secretary, Na Seong-mi, entered, carrying a neatly stacked pile of newspapers.
"These are the early editions of tomorrow's morning papers."
"Just leave them on the desk."
"Yes, sir."
After placing the newspapers down, Na Seong-mi clasped her hands in front of her and asked, "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Then, I'll take my leave."
As the door closed behind her, Seok-won walked over to his desk and sat down. He picked up a newspaper, its fresh ink scent still strong, and skimmed the front-page articles.
Most of the coverage centered around the former president, who had refused to comply with a summons and fled to his hometown in Hapcheon, only to be arrested under a prosecution-issued warrant and taken to Seoul Detention Center.
"If he thought he could spend his twilight years in peace despite his crimes, that was pure greed."
Both former presidents were simply reaping what they had sown.
Yet from the very start of his term, President Kim Seong-gyu had been plagued by a relentless series of disasters—major accidents, corruption scandals, and a never-ending barrage of crises.
Even after achieving his long-cherished dream of becoming the head of state, it seemed like he hadn't had a single day of peace.
"And the real catastrophe hasn't even hit yet."
As Seok-won flipped through the pages with a bitter expression, his eyes landed on a headline in the economy section that made him furrow his brow.
[Allegations of Employment Favoritism in the Financial Supervisory Service Office]
Four years ago, an official from the first inspection division of the Financial Supervisory Service Office allegedly used his connections with the HR director of Saebit Bank—his senior from university—to secure a job for his cousin.
The cousin, who entered Saebit Bank through improper means, did not meet the required qualifications for open recruitment... It is suspected that this corrupt hiring was part of a broader deal between the Financial Supervisory Service Office and Saebit Bank.
At first glance, it seemed like just another corruption exposé. But Seok-won's sharp instincts told him something felt off.
"The First Inspection Division… Could it be Manager Choi Bok-rak?"
Muttering to himself, Seok-won immediately reached for his phone, ready to call Choi Bok-rak directly—only to hesitate mid-dial.
"No. If this turns out to be real, they'll investigate call records. Having my number show up would be a problem."
Lowering his phone, he instead went back to meticulously rereading the article, his expression darkening with every word.