Two days passed.
Taeseong Electronics didn't fall any further.
It dropped from 3,220 won to 3,180, then climbed back to 3,240.
The article about the rights offering review was buried without any follow-up coverage.
Every morning, Doyoon opened his notebook.
Why he bought.
Why it fell.
He read the two lines side by side.
His reason for buying was still valid.
Friday afternoon.
He ran into Yoon Seoyeon in the company hallway.
Seoyeon was carrying a stack of documents.
“Doyoon.”
“Yes?”
“Could you take these to the third-floor conference room?”
Doyoon took the documents.
They were heavy.
“What are these? Why are there so many?”
“Quarterly performance materials. They’re organized by client.”
Seoyeon sighed.
“There are so many numbers I feel like my eyes are going to fall out.”
As he walked, Doyoon glanced over the documents.
They were packed with tables and graphs.
Sales trends by client, cost fluctuations, profit margins.
Everything was organized neatly.
“You made all this, Seoyeon?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You did a good job.”
Seoyeon paused.
“Where did that come from?”
“No, it’s just… Organizing numbers isn’t easy.”
Seoyeon looked at Doyoon.
“It’s kind of weird hearing you say that.”
“What is?”
“You never used to care about this kind of thing.”
Doyoon smiled.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I just didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“The stories behind the numbers.”
Seoyeon tilted her head.
“What are you talking about?”
As he set the documents down on the conference room table, Doyoon asked, “How many times do you have to call the person in charge at each client to make one table like this?”
“Three times? Four?”
“Every single one of those calls is a story.”
Seoyeon studied Doyoon for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh.
“You’ve really changed, Doyoon.”
“You’re saying that again?”
“I can’t help it. You really have changed.”
Leaning against the conference room door, Seoyeon said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What have you been doing lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“After work. You used to seem like the kind of person who just went home and went to sleep.”
It took Doyoon a while to choose his answer.
He couldn't say he was investing in stocks.
More precisely, he couldn't say he remembered the future.
“Studying.”
“Studying? Studying what?”
“Numbers.”
Seoyeon laughed.
“Studying numbers? What are you, an elementary school student?”
“Something like that. I’m starting over from the basics.”
Seoyeon looked at Doyoon’s face.
She could tell he wasn’t joking.
“Doyoon.”
“Yes?”
“Could you teach me some of that number stuff sometime?”
Doyoon paused.
In his first life, Seoyeon would become the person who checked his investment decisions.
That would happen later.
But Seoyeon’s interest now was arriving at a different point in time than the future in his memories.
“I’ll think about it,” Doyoon said.
Seoyeon nodded and walked out into the hallway.
After work.
Doyoon sat at the desk in his studio apartment and turned on his laptop.
He checked Taeseong Electronics’ disclosures.
There had been no board resolution regarding a rights offering.
It had stopped at the review stage.
Doyoon opened his notebook.
He wrote the results beside each verification item.
1. New investment announced → Expansion of next-generation process lines. The direction matches his memories. 2. Order backlog → Not yet public. Tracking it. 3. Competitor activity → No signs of increased investment across the industry. Taeseong Electronics is leading the way. 4. Rights offering → Review stage. No board resolution. The market overreacted.
Doyoon set down his pen and stared at the numbers.
It was the first time he had confirmed a judgment using evidence instead of memory.
His memories were still incomplete.
But verification was filling in the gaps.
His phone rang.
It was Han Taesik.
“Kang Doyoon.”
“Yes?”
“Did a follow-up article come out about the rights offering?”
“No, it didn’t.”
“Then how do you judge the situation?”
Doyoon thought for a moment.
“I think the market overreacted.”
“Your basis?”
“There’s no board resolution. An article coming out while it was still under review could mean someone deliberately leaked it.”
Silence followed.
Han Taesik spoke.
“Why do you think that?”
“If an article about a rights offering review comes out right after a new investment announcement, short-term investors pull out.”
“And then?”
“The stock price drops. Then someone can buy at the lower price.”
Han Taesik laughed.
“Interesting.”
“What is?”
“You’re reading the market for the first time.”
Doyoon couldn't say anything.
“I mean you’re looking at the market, not your memories.”
Han Taesik’s voice was calm.
“That’s an investor’s eye.”
After hanging up, Doyoon stared at the ceiling for a long time.
An investor’s eye.
It was something he had never possessed in his first life.
Back then, he only looked at charts.
He was happy when the numbers went up and afraid when they fell.
He never thought about why the market moved.
But things were different now.
He was beginning to see the intentions of the people behind the numbers.
Doyoon added another line to his notebook.
Consider additional purchase. Buy a second round if it falls below 3,200 won. Basis: Rights offering unconfirmed. Investment thesis unchanged. Short-term drop is an entry opportunity.
The moment he put down his pen.
A message came to his phone.
It was from Yoon Seoyeon.
[Doyoon, what you said earlier about the stories behind the numbers. It was kind of cool. But what does it really mean?]
Doyoon stared at the screen.
He started to type a reply, then stopped.
How much could he tell this person?
A person who knew the future, speaking to someone living in the present.
Doyoon sent a short reply.
[I’ll tell you over coffee sometime.]
Seoyeon’s reply came quickly.
[It’s a promise.]
Doyoon set his phone down.
The glow of the streetlights was visible outside the window.
For the first time, it was a night when a person—not numbers—held his attention.