Golden Spoon Investment Portfolio - Chapter 13

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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13. So how much did that bastard Seokwon make?

That evening, 10 Downing Street, London.
In front of the Treasury building, constructed with stately red brick, domestic and foreign journalists who had been notified in advance gathered in considerable numbers.

“The fact that they’re holding an emergency press conference means they’re finally abandoning the ERM.”

Alex, a reporter for The Guardian, muttered to himself while holding a notepad with a ballpoint pen tucked into it, and a colleague journalist he knew casually responded as though it were obvious.

“What else could it be? The foreign exchange market has been in chaos all day.”
“True enough.”

Alex answered with a bitter smile.

“I thought it would be a David and Goliath battle, but I never imagined it would end like this.”
“Tell me about it.”

The colleague journalist nodded in agreement.

“With the Bank of England’s prestige in such decline, it’s safe to say the pound has now been completely displaced from its position as a reserve currency.”

Since both were British, they couldn’t help but feel a bitter taste spreading through their mouths.
Alex glanced up briefly, his gaze drifting toward the Union Jack hanging beside the building’s entrance.

“Is Prime Minister Isaac’s political career over with this?”
“It must be.”

Most of the journalists gathered here sensed that reality.
It felt like witnessing the decline of the British Empire itself—once a nation that boasted the sun never set upon it, wielding dominion over the entire world—and Alex found himself feeling both melancholic and forlorn.
Then the entrance door opened, and Minister Henry, his face stern, emerged with Treasury staff members.

“The Minister!”

At that, the waiting reporters surged forward in a chaotic rush.
The plainclothes police officers stationed beforehand quickly moved to block them, but it proved futile.
The reporters shoved and jostled one another, each desperate to advance even a fraction closer.
Minister Henry, regarding the semicircle of reporters with a troubled expression, waited for the commotion to settle somewhat before extracting a prepared statement from his jacket pocket.
Unfolding the creased paper, Minister Henry lifted his gaze toward the microphones and cameras thrust in his direction.

I wanted nothing more than to flee this very instant.

This would undoubtedly become the most humiliating day of my life.
It was devastating, but as someone occupying the position of Finance Minister, I could not escape it.
And for the sake of preventing an even greater catastrophe, this was something I absolutely had to do.
Minister Henry forced open his reluctant lips as he looked down at the statement in his hands.

“My fellow citizens, today has been an extraordinarily difficult and painful day.”

Regarding the reporters who listened with bated breath, Minister Henry continued in a sorrowful tone.

“As you are all aware, over the past several days, Global Hedge Funds have launched a malicious assault, deliberately driving down the pound’s exchange rate to devastating levels. The government and the Bank of England have stood alone, struggling valiantly against these nefarious intentions.”

The resentment and disappointment toward Germany—which had turned a blind eye and offered no assistance while Britain faced assault from Global Hedge Funds—was plainly evident in Minister Henry’s words.

“In particular, today witnessed massive pound selling from the morning hours onward, creating severe turmoil in the foreign exchange markets. In response, the government and the Bank of England raised interest rates successively and did everything within their power, yet it proved insufficient. Accordingly, the government has decided to….”

Minister Henry hesitated, the next words not coming easily, before finally clearing his throat and speaking again, unable to conceal his grave expression.

“The government has decided, after careful deliberation, to withdraw from the ERM.”

Though somewhat anticipated, the actual announcement of ERM withdrawal caused the assembled reporters to erupt in commotion.

“While the ERM withdrawal may precipitate some confusion, we hope you will understand that this was an unavoidable choice made for the sake of exchange rate stability and British economic security. The government will exert every effort to minimize the shock resulting from this decision. We offer our sincere apologies once more and humbly request your understanding and cooperation.”

The moment he finished speaking, the reporters unleashed a torrent of questions as if they had been waiting for precisely this moment.

“Has Britain raised the white flag in surrender to the attacks by Global Hedge Funds!”
“There are reports that foreign exchange reserves have been significantly depleted due to defending the exchange rate over the past several days—is this true?”
“Some argue that maintaining the ERM was difficult from the outset—what is your response to this!”
“How do you feel at this moment!”
“Minister, please give us a statement!”

The shutter clicked loudly and incessantly, camera flashes erupting without pause.
Minister Henry squinted against the blinding light, his ears ringing from the cacophony of reporters hurling questions at him like a murder of crows descending upon prey.
He folded the statement in his hand and tucked it back into his jacket pocket, then spoke with a rigid expression while facing forward.

“There will be a separate announcement regarding the follow-up procedures.”

Without another word, he turned and walked into the building.
The reporters’ shouts poured after Minister Henry as he strode away.

* * *

Cambridge, Massachusetts.
As the sun climbed overhead, I moved indoors to the Cafeteria to escape the harsh rays.
An afternoon shift employee I recognized spotted me and struck up a conversation.

“You’re staying long today.”
“I have some work to do for an assignment.”

I ordered a tuna sandwich and a warm Americano from the employee who was eyeing me sympathetically, making a quick lunch of it.
Of course, I remained vigilant throughout, monitoring exchange rate fluctuations through Cox’s frequent calls.
A group of female students entered through the glass door chattering animatedly, their major textbooks clutched to their chests, and I rolled up my sleeve to check my wristwatch—it had just passed 2:50 PM.
With a five-hour time difference from London, the British foreign exchange market would be closing around now.

“It’s about time for the surrender announcement.”

According to what Manager Oh had told me, the British government should announce their withdrawal from the ERM after the market closed.
I drummed my fingertips anxiously on the table, staring at my mobile phone for a long moment.
Then it rang with a sharp chirp.
I quickly reached out and picked up the phone.

“It’s me.”

I answered with deliberate composure, and Cox’s voice came through the line, trembling with excitement.

[Minister Henry just made an official announcement—Britain is withdrawing from the ERM!]

The moment I heard those words, my hand clenched into a fist.
I had known this was coming, but the electric thrill of my first bet succeeding spectacularly coursed through me.

[As soon as the news broke, the pound sterling exchange rate plummeted, breaking through 1.3000 dollars and falling to 1.2950 dollars.]

The decline was steeper than in the original timeline, likely due to his intervention.

[Sell orders are flooding in at such a rate that it’s impossible to predict how far the currency will fall.]

Having quickly regained his composure, he spoke with measured calm.

“The Bank of England, which had been absorbing the selling pressure from below, has surrendered and withdrawn its support. So it will fall even further.”
[Haha, quite right. If I were holding pounds with a predetermined decline ahead, I’d want to dump them before my losses grew any larger.]

With the ERM withdrawal confirming pound weakness, a torrent of selling pressure descended upon the market.
But as the Bank of England, which had been propping up the price until now, withdrew from currency defense and failed to absorb the volume, the pound plummeted downward.
This triggered a cascade of fresh selling from investors fearful of losses, sending the pound into what traders called a death spiral.

‘Even a rotten fish won’t lead to a full-blown currency crisis, but the pound will still suffer considerably for some time.’

If his memory served correctly, the pound had fallen to one dollar by year’s end, so there was still considerable distance to drop.

[You intend to maintain your position as it stands, I presume?]

Cox asked for confirmation, and I cleared my mind before responding.

“Of course. Once it falls to one dollar, I’ll liquidate the entire position.”
[Surely you don’t believe the pound will actually fall that far?]

Cox asked back, visibly startled.
Most people probably couldn’t imagine the pound falling to such depths, no matter how badly it bottomed out.
I leaned back in my chair and spoke with unwavering conviction.

“I do.”
[One dollar… If that actually happens, the profit margin would be absolutely staggering.]

In Cox’s mind, skepticism and anticipation of a jackpot collided simultaneously.
While it seemed unlikely, watching the pound’s current freefall made it seem far from impossible.
Moreover, because I had predicted the pound’s decline and wagered a massive sum that proved correct, it somehow felt like it would genuinely happen.

“And I’d like to use the current contract as collateral to leverage additional capital. Would that be possible?”
[You mean to short the pound further?]

Cox responded immediately.
Then Seokwon curled one corner of his mouth upward and spoke leisurely.

“What profit could I possibly make by pouring money into a place swarming with competitors like a hornet’s nest? I have no particular interest in joining that fray.”
[Then what are you trying to do?]

Cox asked with genuine curiosity.
He was eager to know what Seokwon intended to do next, given the remarkably accurate predictions he had demonstrated.

“I’m thinking of buying some British stocks.”

True to his reputation as one of Wall Street’s most prominent investment bank traders, Cox immediately grasped Seokwon’s intention and let out an exclamation.

[You’re planning to buy blue-chip stocks at a discount.]
“Exactly.”

Due to the aftermath of the economic downturn, the stock prices of companies listed on the London Stock Exchange had also plummeted and hit bottom.

‘Until now, British companies have struggled because of the high exchange rates that were maintained, but that’s no longer the case.’

Once the British government withdrew from the ERM, the exchange rate would fall significantly, and British companies’ competitiveness would rise accordingly.
In that case, stock prices would have an excellent chance of rebounding sharply.

[This isn’t a decision I can make on my own, so I’ll report it to my superiors and get back to you.]
“I’d appreciate an answer by today if possible.”
[Understood. I can’t give you a definite answer, but approval will likely come through without much difficulty.]

Cox spoke with confidence.
Noting the markedly different attitude from when they had gone to sign the leveraged investment contract last time, Seokwon chuckled softly and ended the call.

“Then I’ll be waiting for good news.”
[I’ll contact you again.]

The moment I set down the phone, tension drained from my entire body.

“Ah… finally it’s done.”

I lifted the disposable coffee cup sitting in front of me like a champagne glass, celebrating my success in the first bet.

* * *

Hannam-dong, Seoul.
As Park Tae-hong rose early as usual and stepped into the living room, the rich, savory aroma of soybean paste stew tickled his nostrils.

“Ahem.”
“Oh my. You’re awake, Chairman.”

As Park Tae-hong cleared his throat with his hands clasped behind his back, the Gunsan Housekeeper emerged from the kitchen and greeted him.

“Is it soybean paste stew this morning?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The aroma alone is making my mouth water.”

The Gunsan Housekeeper laughed at his gently impatient tone and replied.

“Just a moment longer, sir. Shall I brew you some coffee?”
“Yes, please.”

Park Tae-hong moved to the living room and settled into the plush antique sofa, reaching for the morning newspaper on the table.
A headline printed in bold letters on the front page immediately caught his eye.

[Britain Abruptly Exits ERM…Pound Sterling Plummets!]
“What?!”

Park Tae-hong furrowed his brow and read through the article carefully.

[After enduring attacks from Global Hedge Funds over recent days, the British government announced its sudden withdrawal from the European Exchange Rate Mechanism (ERM) on the 16th local time, causing the pound sterling to plummet sharply. The government raised interest rates twice in a single day in a desperate attempt to defend the currency, but ultimately failed to prevent the currency collapse and withdrew from the ERM. The pound sterling fell to $1.29, marking its lowest point since 1985. The withdrawal from the ERM is expected to deliver a severe shock to the pound sterling and the British economy….]
On this single day, they raised interest rates twice and made desperate efforts, but ultimately failed to defend the exchange rate and had to withdraw from the ERM.
On this day, the pound sterling fell to 1.29 dollars, marking its lowest level since 1985.
With the pound and the British economy expected to suffer a major shock from the ERM withdrawal…

“Phew.”

Park Tae-hong exhaled sharply, newspaper still in hand, and muttered to himself.

“I suspected it might happen, but the pound actually collapsed.”

His expression had turned somewhat dazed since early morning.

“I thought we’d be fortunate just not to lose money… but how much did this bastard Seok-won actually make?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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