Chapter 14: Earning Allowance (4)

After returning from my meeting with Executive Director Ha Joo-seong, I lay sprawled out on my plush bed, munching on snacks and trying to soothe my body worn out from running around outside. Sure, I was getting crumbs everywhere on the bed... But yeah. That’s not my problem. That’s what Si-hyun is for—my secretary, bodyguard, errand girl, and maid all in one. “Young miss, I... I have a question.” For some reason, Lee Si-hyun had been staring at my crumb-covered fingers like they were a crime scene. Now, she glanced at me cautiously, as if worried she might be out of line. I wiped my hands off on the blanket—whatever—and answered. “Yeah. Go ahead, ask.” “Why did you only invest 100 million won? If it were really such a sure opportunity, you could’ve borrowed money or even liquidated some assets to increase the investment. Just the 50 million you gave me—” “Ohhh, so you wanted in too, huh?” She waved her hands quickly in denial. “N-No! Of course not! I’d never— I mean, unless you said it was okay... maybe I could set aside about 40 million, after my expenses...” I chuckled and shook my head. “Come on, like I’d scold you for that. If you made money, it’d only be a good thing for me too. But I’m just doing this for a bit of pocket change.” “...So that means...” Too bad for Si-hyun, who was clearly hoping for a 100x return. This opportunity already had a full passenger list. “It’s gonna be hard, though. This is a special case. 100 million was the maximum I could justify. Didn’t I say it before? Derivatives are a zero-sum game.” If someone wins, someone else loses. If I make ten billion won, someone else loses ten billion won. And that “someone” is probably going to be one of the most promising, most aggressive players on Wall Street right now. “Ten billion’s fine. It’s not like the entire loss lands on one person anyway, and with aggressive trading, losses of that scale do happen.” But more than that is dangerous. The moment a “manageable loss” becomes a “crippling one,” that person is going to start holding a grudge. Especially in an over-the-counter deal like this, where your identity and position are laid completely bare. Instead of blaming bad luck, they’ll look for someone to blame. Someone specific. Look, I get it. It’s a contract. This was the agreement from the start. They signed it of their own free will—no one should be mad about it. But people aren’t rational like that. Even if they don’t show it, they’ll stew over it inside. Why would I be insane enough to make an enemy of a Wall Street fund manager? Gotta remember: money isn’t everything in this world. “Ah...” Si-hyun looked a little disappointed, but she was smart—she clearly got the message. ...Besides, there was one more thing I hadn’t said out loud. “A well-fed hunting dog gets lazy.” The reward for merit shouldn’t be too little, but it shouldn’t be too much either. We’re not that close yet—we’ve only known each other a year or two. I figured I’d help guide her thoughts away from that path a little. “If I pooled all my assets, I could probably invest around ten billion. And if that hits, I could rake in hundreds of billions, maybe not a full trillion—but still. But...” “B-But what?” “Did you forget? That account isn’t actually mine. It’s my grandfather’s. No one’s handing over that kind of cash to an eight-year-old. Not even in America.” Money only matters if you have the power to protect it. “I don’t know for sure, but wouldn’t the FBI or someone come sniffing around? Or maybe a hitman just... cleans me up? Or maybe they use a loophole in OTC trading and just don’t pay out.” Sounds ridiculous, right? But after 9/11, that’s exactly what happened. The U.S. government launched full-scale investigations into people who made money off options during the attack. Especially if you were Asian, Arab—any non-white person—they came down hard. Some even got falsely accused and had their lives destroyed. “...They can not pay you? But it’s a contract?” Ah, she still doesn’t get it. This sweet summer child. There are cases where institutions pull the plug on retail traders’ buy buttons during a short squeeze and pretend nothing happened. There are cases where the same people who caused a financial crisis throw themselves a bonus party afterward. S~eaʀᴄh the NôᴠeFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. “Should’ve asked Director Ha. He could’ve explained it better. That’s why he ended up where he is now.” “...” Si-hyun fell silent. I shrugged. “Money’s easier to handle when there’s less of it. Besides, who’d even take the other side of that trade? The derivatives market isn’t big enough yet.” The richest people in the world often have surprisingly low returns. Like a snowball, money gets harder to roll the bigger it gets. Same with capital. “Got it. I understand now.” This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight. She seemed overly tense just from hearing the number ten billion. But there’s still a while to go before expiration—no need to stress just yet. “We’re just seasoning things for now. The real game starts a month from now. That’s when we start actually buying options. Relax.” Only then did she let out a small sigh. “Right... Sorry. I got a bit too worked up...” “No need to overthink it. Like I said—just pocket money.” I smiled at her. Just spending a night being entertained in a casino that’s rigged to favor me. No need to overheat your brain trying to do complicated math. *** September 18, 1985. Wall Street. In the offices of Dreyfus Fund, Stanley Miller was stewing in frustration. “Goddamn it. Should I sell it... or not?” Ordinarily, this wouldn’t even be a debate. The trend in the exchange rate was starting to shift, and he had multiple barrier spreads placed in a range from 210 to 230 yen per dollar. But of all things, someone popped up wanting to buy the one with the 215 barrier. Sigh... maybe I should just stop thinking and dump it. It’s only fifty grand... And it wasn’t one of his core holdings, either. The fund’s assets in forex options were a drop in the bucket compared to the main assets. Even if this one did make a hundredfold return, it’d be a few million at most. The fund managed hundreds of millions. Why waste his time on something that wouldn’t even show up on the radar? Especially with Triple Witching Day just two days away. Chase a few million here and risk losing tens of millions elsewhere? Not worth it. After a pause, he clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Tch. What the hell am I even stressing about?” It’s not even my money. Just sell it. He’d already been frustrated with the fund’s bonuses lately. After all he’d done for them, and this was all he got? Click. Frowning, he picked up the phone. It was to that East Asian fund manager he’d met by chance years ago. [Ah, Mr. Miller. Have you made up your mind?] “Yeah.” God, what an infuriating bastard. The type to stab someone in the back and then, without skipping a beat, suggest working together again. The type who’d cooperate with someone who just cost him money. Even Wall Street’s famously cold-blooded fund managers were emotional creatures under the surface. But this guy—he was textbook economic rationality. Classic economists would’ve loved him. But just like classical economics fell out of favor, that guy had been chased out of Tokyo and back to his little country in the sticks. So, in the end, Miller figured he’d been right all along. The world can’t be explained with math formulas. Bolstered by renewed confidence, he accepted the deal. “Fine. I’ll sell the option. I’m not in the mood to stress over something so minor right now.” [Minor... Haha, I suppose so. For someone managing Dreyfus Fund, this must be ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) pocket change.] It sounded like provocation, but it probably wasn’t. More like flattery... maybe. “Exactly. If I screw up Triple Witching Day just because I got greedy over pocket money, I’d be a joke. I’d never work again if word got out.” The value of money depends on who you are. To someone like Lee Si-hyun, from a poor background, a few million dollars was unimaginable. Even for someone like Ha Joo-seong—a fund manager who’d once had a good run—it was a huge amount. But to a genius fund manager at the heart of global finance, on Wall Street? A few million dollars was nothing more than pocket change—not worth stressing over. In fact, thinking too hard about it could lead to far greater losses. The man who would one day bring down the Bank of England with a short on the pound, derail the UK’s entry into the euro, and become a living legend of Wall Street... Made a perfectly rational decision. *** “Do you know who wins in a game of chicken?” “Hmm... The one who’s not afraid?” “What if both of them aren’t afraid?” If two maniacs with nothing to lose go head-to-head in a game of chicken... then what? “...” “The one with less to lose wins.” And so, I was bound to win this game.