"What did I tell you? Huh? What did I tell you!"

Chang-jong was bouncing from his seat and shouting.

"I told you the return to the range was a fake!"

Chang-jong jabbed his finger at the chart on the screen and shouted —

"I said it was a sure-thing seat, didn't I! Huh? Korea's finished now. Wiped out."

"The U.S. was the one hit by terrorism, but we're the ones who got wiped out?"

Seong-ho tilted his head as if he didn't quite understand and asked Chang-jong.

Chang-jong waved his hand and dropped onto the sofa.

Holding short futures, Chang-jong was one of the people hoping for a crash. And per his own hope, the day after expiry he was watching the falling index with glee.

"Circuit breakers almost tripped again today, but the institutional guys held it up. Filthy bastards. If they hadn't held it, it wouldn't have been just a sidecar — the circuit breaker would have blown for sure."

"Brother. If the institutions held it, wouldn't there be a reason for it? Trying to push the index back up—"

"You just can't talk to beginners."

Chang-jong looked at Seong-ho with contempt.

"Listen. When those institutional guys buy, it's to fleece beginners like you — dilettantes who know nothing about stocks. They put on a fake move to pull money out of the pockets of the guys who follow institutional buying in."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

Chang-jong shot Seong-ho a pitying look and shook his head.

"Don't do this stuff. Looking at you — you're a mark, born to lose money."

Chang-jong shook his head again and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it and blew a long stream of smoke.

"Hoo."

Chang-jong, in a good mood at having spent a fruitful day, was radiating satisfaction at the market moving as he'd read it.

"Brother. You said you were building the downside position — have you finished?"

"It's not one or two contracts. How would I finish that in a day or two? I'm still doing it."

"Still?"

"Yes. Probably… won't take less than a week."

Chang-jong clicked…