December 29th.
The final trading day of the 1980s.
A beautiful girl with dark circles under her eyes stared sharply at those around her, eyes burning with intensity.
Yoo Ha-yeon, who had stayed up through the dawn, still flaunted her flawless skin and pitch-black sches, fueling the energy in the room.
“Is everything ready for the short sell?”
As her crimson lips parted, the stiffly-suited soldiers responded in unison.
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Good... we’ve worked hard, haven’t we?”
They had brokered deals between the finance companies and the Japanese securities market, stirred public anxiety through the dia, and selected which companies to target for short selling.
“Don’t forget, make sure those finance companies cushioning the fall don’t catch on to us... and don’t hit too hard or they’ll die off too quickly. Just plant the bombs nice and neat. Also, prep so performance results to leak to the press. Si-hyun, you’ve already got that handled, right?”
Her secretary, with her long hair tied back in a ponytail, gave a calm, assured smile.
“Yes, I’ve spread the decoy plan around the newspapers. There’s no way your uncle will find out.”
“Good... if you say so, then I trust you. Whew...”
The girl stared at the web of connections drawn across the whiteboard, her eyes alight with delight, before flashing a wide grin and nodding.
“Alright. Let’s begin.”
That day,
A total of $300 million worth of short selling poured into the Japanese stock market from around the world.
***
Matsui, a departnt head at one of Japan’s major securities firms, considered himself a lucky man.
He had no real connections, no prestigious family, yet he had landed a job at Yamaiichi Securities, a top-tier financial firm, and risen all the way to departnt head.
If that were all, he’d just chalk it up to being talented. But no—the tis were just too good.
“Hell, you could leverage anything and still make money. Even a guy like ’s been raking it in.”
Matsui was the textbook example of a Japanese corporate salaryman.
He played golf, enjoyed the nightlife with his subordinates, lived the salaryman dream...
And because he was just slightly above average, he never thought about stepping outside that comfort zone—never wanted to.
Which is why, right now, this whole situation was stressing him the hell out.
“...A short sell. This is a damn short sell. We’re in trouble.”
The massive wave of short selling hit, and the market imdiately went wild.
Of course, the Nikkei was caught in a tug-of-war, rising and falling in a volatile dance.
Japanese companies had imnse pride in their economy. The world’s second-largest economy after the U.S., maybe even destined to beco number one soday... the great Japan with limitless potential.
That belief was propping up the bubble. A hollow, delusional faith—but faith nonetheless.
“Sir, at this rate our margin is at risk. Should we liquidate our leveraged positions?”
One of his subordinates asked, clearly nervous. Leverage was dangerous in a swinging market like this.
If you’re leveraged 10 to 1, a re 10% drop wipes you out. And if you don’t cut your losses fast enough, you’ve gotta inject more cash to cover the margin—or go negative.
Matsui, an ordinary man at heart, wanted to play it safe and dump all their stocks and bonds.
But Matsui, the departnt head of Yamaiichi Securities, couldn’t do that.
“No, we stay the course.”
He forced his sluggish brain to grind through the problem and sent up his report.
[Wall Street hedge funds suspected of shorting certain stocks in large volus. Heightened anxiety among retail investors is causing spillover effects on other stocks...]
In other words:
-This is a short-selling attack! Damn Aricans are trying to take down the Nikkei—let’s show them what we’re made of!
The audacity of shorting the mighty, soaring Nikkei.
His pride as a departnt head wouldn’t let him back down.
Especially when they were already leveraged with direct capital investnt. If the market really went bearish now, he might have to resign.
“This is just overblown panic. It’ll all return to normal. Japan’s fundantals are still solid! We got through the oil shock just fine, didn’t we?”
“But... sir, the drop is pretty sharp.”
At his subordinate’s worried tone, Matsui shook his head with forced confidence.
“No! Haven’t you seen all the short-sell articles flooding in lately? There’s talk that Alpha Fund—those guys who blew up recently—are shorting too. They’re pros at market manipulation, this is nothing unusual.”
He was deluding himself. The bubble inside Japan was simply at its limit, and the short-sellers had just flocked in, drawn like moths to the fla by a reincarnator who’d already seen the future.
“The market’s closing today and won’t open again for nearly a week...”
Matsui frowned deeply, letting out a sigh. The timing was just too perfect.
Which is exactly why the short-sellers chose now.
“Ugh... fine. Let’s unwind so leverage, just lower the multiplier a bit. Five tis should be safe.”
Matsui, practically downing his coffee like water, scrambled to adjust their leverage.
.
.
.
A few hours later.
After being chewed out by his superiors and hounding his subordinates, Matsui collapsed into his chair, exhausted.
“Guess I’m stuck with overti again tonight...”
But even a mont of rest wasn’t allowed. Soone from another departnt ca looking for him.
“What is it now?”
“...We got a call from Daehwa Securities in Korea.”
“Daehwa Securities?”
Matsui looked at him, puzzled.
“Not exactly Daehwa Securities—their president. You know, Ha Joo-seong? The Korean guy who got kicked out of Nomura for biting off more than he could chew.”
“Oh, right. Him.”
“He says he’ll take on our losses. Wants us to sell him our stocks and bonds cheap.”
Matsui ground his teeth and waved him off.
“Forget it! What does a loser who got booted from Tokyo know? He’s just throwing a fit because he can’t stand seeing others succeed. Cut off contact.”
“But...”
The subordinate hesitated before adding,
“Word is, Nomura Securities took the offer.”
“...”
A flicker of doubt passed through Matsui’s eyes, but his pride wouldn’t let him take back what he’d said.
“No, my decision stands. He used to work at Nomura, that’s the only reason they took him seriously.”
– Whoosh.
“Just go. I need a break... damn, I hope I can get so rest over the holiday...”
Waving him away, Matsui blinked his tired eyes and slumped back, trying to squeeze in a mont of peace.
***
Yoo Ha-yeon lay slouched in the president’s office at Daehwa Securities, catching a short nap before waking up again.
“Ah, Si-hyun. You’re still here?”
“The nanny was worried... I explained it to her.”
“...Sorry. Tell her I’ll be staying here for the next week.”
“Yes. And the New Year’s plans...?”
“Cancel everything. I’m monitoring things from here.”
She threw her crumpled suit jacket back on and stood up, gulping down a glass of water.
Through the window in the distance, she could see the glow of dawn. The clock read 7 o’clock.
“Si-hyun. Is it 7 AM or 7 PM right now?”
Her secretary answered in a slightly bitter tone.
“...It’s morning, ma’am.”
“December 31st? No, wait... the market closed earlier so...”
“It’s January 1st, early morning. You really should get so rest.”
Nodding quietly, Yoo Ha-yeon straightened her clothes once again.
“Then the New York markets must be closed too. Get ready, we’re heading back to Wall Street. I’ll sleep on the plane, don’t worry about it.”
As Yoo Ha-yeon moved to leave the office, Lee Si-hyun stopped her. In her «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» hand was a small piece of cake.
“Ma’am, happy birthday. Your birthday’s today, right? January 1st?”
“....”
Yoo Ha-yeon paused, then nodded.
“Right, it is today. I never told anyone. How’d you know?”
“The nanny told .”
“Troubleso... Tsk, fine. Don’t bother the others with this, just focus on the work. No—actually, you should get so rest. You’ve got that eting in Japan on January 5th, right? You need to save your strength.”
“...And what about you? I’m only going because of you, aren’t I?”
Yoo Ha-yeon smirked faintly, then pointed out the window, her eyes already blazing with volcanic heat again.
“Out there, the ‘90s are about to begin. Shouldn’t I go collect my birthday present?”
The collapse of Japan’s bubble.
The start of a historic New Year event that would define the 1990s.
***
Japan’s Ministry of Finance.
Two n sat in a quiet room, sipping drinks.
“Regulating real estate loans, huh...? The speculators are gonna bleed.”
“That’s the point, isn’t it? No matter how much they make, people can’t afford hos anymore... public sentint’s turning ugly. The LDP’s putting a lot of weight on this issue.”
“Well, then it can’t be helped. Hmm, this’ll probably hit the stock market too... but we saw this coming since the semiconductor crash, I suppose.”
“The Bank of Japan will raise interest rates soon too. Keep that in mind.”
“When will they announce it?”
“We’ve decided sooner is better. So... January 5th.”
***
January 5th, 1990.
After barely clawing back a rebound on January 4th, Matsui had walked into work riding high.
“Phew, if I’d known it’d bounce back like that, I would’ve leveraged harder— Huh? What’s with all your faces?”
“Sir! Have you seen the news?!”
“What news... huh?”
Matsui froze as he turned to the television screen.
– Click, click, click.
Amidst the shutter sounds, a Ministry of Finance official was explaining policy. At the bottom of the screen, a bright red banner with white text flashed.
[Ministry of Finance introduces Total Capital Limit to curb real estate speculation. Mortgage lending to be cut by over 80% compared to last year.]
The mont he saw the news, his mouth went dry.
“N-No way. Why now, of all tis?!”
Curbing real estate speculation sounded nice, but cutting loans ant cutting investnts.
“W-Wait... did those bastards at Nomura know?!”
If anyone could’ve known, it was them—they had their people buried deep in the governnt. Leaking sothing this big would be the kind of cri you should commit seppuku for, but if anyone could pull it off, it was Nomura.
No wonder they dumped all that stock, even at a loss!
One word slamd into Matsui’s brain.
Austerity.
The Ministry was tightening hard to kill the bubble.
“S-Sir! Investors are dumping stocks like crazy!”
“I can see that! Just... just wait a minute!”
The Nikkei, after stalling for a mont right after the Ministry’s announcent, began to nosedive like mad.
And... there was no coming back from it.
“Sir! NTT, Tokyo Electric... they’re all down 10%! W-What do we do... should we at least unwind the leverage—”
“How the hell are we supposed to unwind that now?!”
The office was in chaos. From fresh rookies to grizzled section heads, everyone was running around in a panic.
“Sir! Sir...?”
“....”
Matsui said nothing, staring at the screen, eyes bloodshot.
The news, the cara shutters, the construction noise outside the windows, the birds chirping, the murmurs of his subordinates...
All of it faded into the background, as his mind went blank.
– Riiing!
The phone’s shrill ring cut through the room like a blade. To Matsui’s ears, it was like a steel spike being hamred into his skull.
– Riiing!
– Riiing!
The phone lit up like it was on fire, calls flooding in. The office buzzed with that piercing chorus of high-pitched machine noise.
Startled birds fled the concrete jungle, driven off by the sharp noise. In the clear glass pond where they’d co to drink, people flailed, drowning in the blue depths of financial ruin.
“Y-You should answer it...”
A subordinate, hands trembling, held out the phone.
Matsui reached for it with difficulty, and as soon as he heard the familiar phrases, the phone slipped from his hand and rolled across the desk.
“A-Ahh...”
His groans overlapped with the still-raging noise, creating a sharp, echoing scream.
– Riiing!
– Riiing!
– Riiing!
He didn’t need to look.
Margin Call.
Mitsubishi Bank, Sumitomo Bank, Nippon Life...
Japan’s financial titans were calling to mark the beginning of his ruin.
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