Golden Spoon Investment Portfolio - Chapter 15

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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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15. I’ll wrap this up however you want, so just sit down already.

Roy pulled up to a scooter in front of a pub located in Harvard Square, the engine roaring loudly as he came to a stop.

[Moby Dick]

The weathered sign, as if displaying its long history, bore the title of H. Melville’s famous classic novel and the name of the whale that appeared in the story.
Moby Dick, with its expansive windows and striking red brick facade, had been a beloved pub among Harvard University students for over fifty years, holding its ground steadfastly.
Seokwon, holding his helmet in his hand, gazed up at the sign with a bewildered expression.

“Why are we coming here?”

But Roy, as he had done countless times before, ignored the question and grabbed Seokwon’s wrist, dragging him into the shop.

“Come on, we’re running late. Hurry up.”
“Wait, what do you mean we’re late?”
“You’ll understand once we get inside, I promise. Let’s go, let’s go!”

Seokwon, bewildered and dragged along without understanding, widened his eyes slightly as he noticed the shop was quite crowded inside.
The interior was decorated in a vintage style with brick and wood, and despite the sun still hanging in the sky, people were packed in densely for some reason.

“Excuse me, move aside!”

Roy, still gripping Seokwon’s wrist, pushed through the standing crowd and made his way deeper inside.

“O’Brien!”

As Roy called out loudly, a white man with blonde, curly hair wearing a Harvard University jacket turned around.

“Where on earth have you been? Why are you just showing up now?”
“I’m here now, so that’s what matters. I’m not late yet, am I?”

O’Brien rolled up his sleeve to check his watch, then relaxed his furrowed brow.

“Just barely made it.”
“Phew! Thank goodness.”

Roy exhaled in relief, and the male student called O’Brien jabbed him sharply in the ribs.

“I was ready to declare a forfeit if you were even five minutes late. Next time, I won’t be so lenient. Though I’m not sure there will be a next time.”
“I apologize.”
“So that’s him?”
“Yeah.”

O’Brien glanced at Seokwon standing beside Roy, then jerked his chin toward the back.

“We don’t have time. Get ready now.”

Get ready for what?
Seokwon, who hadn’t understood a single word of the conversation until now, dropped his jaw at the sight that appeared as O’Brien stepped aside.
Where a music box should have been mounted on the wall, two stand-up arcade game cabinets faced each other, planted there without ceremony.

“What is all this?”
“What do you think? Street Fighter arcade cabinets.”
“Why are arcade machines here when they belong in an arcade!”
“Because we’re holding a Street Fighter tournament here. Obviously.”

Roy replied casually as Seokwon slipped off the backpack slung across his shoulders.
For all its grand name of “Street Fighter Tournament,” it was merely a competition that Harvard and MIT students had organized on their own whim.
Naturally, there was no prize money and no lavish rewards at stake.
Yet seeing them set up actual arcade cabinets and conduct preliminary rounds left Seokwon utterly flabbergasted.

“Is this what they call American scale….”

Where on earth did they even get real arcade machines!
Even if they’d borrowed them temporarily, the effort required to transport and install them would have been considerable—yet the drive to pull it off was remarkable.

“What are you doing? Get ready already.”
“Sigh, you really….”

Seokwon sighed and pressed his forehead with his palm.

“I told you I don’t want to do this.”

With work already piling up like mountains, the gaming tournament was nothing but a nuisance to Seokwon.

“You signed the participation form, and now you’re backing out?”
“That’s….”

A thick, gruff voice called out from across the room.

“Hey, are you doing this or not?”

I turned my head at the blunt tone, and there stood a man well over two meters tall with a muscular build, positioned beside an arcade machine, regarding us both with an openly contemptuous gaze.

“That’s Ian, the captain of the Rugby Team. He looks brutish, but he’s got real skill—a genuine expert. Of all the rotten luck, we’re facing him in the first match.”

Roy pressed close beside me, rattling off information about the man in a low whisper.
Now that I looked, four other burly teammates surrounded Ian, clearly members of the same Rugby Team.

“I don’t need that kind of information.”

I exhaled a sigh and turned toward Ian, muttering under my breath.
I’d planned to apologize for the delay and simply forfeit the match.
But just as I was about to open my mouth, Ian provoked me with his arrogant demeanor.

“Hey, you scrawny little thing. If you’re not up for it, get lost.”
“Hahahaha!”

The men flaunted their rippling muscles beneath their short-sleeved shirts, bursting into unified laughter.

“Come on, Ian, that’s too much!”
“Poor guy’s feelings are hurt. What if he runs away crying?”

My face hardened like stone under the barrage of mockery.

“That bastard!”

Roy’s expression crumpled in an instant, and he bristled with anger. O’Brien, standing nearby, also furrowed his brow in displeasure.

“What did you just say!”
“Calm down.”

I suddenly rolled up my sleeves and blocked Roy’s path with my arm as he lunged forward.

“Clean this up! That bastard just spouted complete nonsense!”

Unlike his usual playful demeanor, genuine anger had contorted his eyes into sharp, upturned crescents.
Ian responded with a dismissive snort, flicking his fingers as though the whole thing was beneath contempt.

“Oh, you really want to go at it? I’m more than happy to oblige. Come on.”

The Rugby Team members standing beside him erupted in laughter, their snickers filling the air.

“Those bastards!”
“Calm down, I’m telling you!”

Seokwon forcibly grabbed Roy’s shoulder as he lunged forward, then fixed Ian’s group with a glacial stare.

“You’re not even worth matching against. Stay here.”

Seokwon strode purposefully toward the front and addressed O’Brien, who was serving as the referee.

“I use the machine on the left, right?”
“That’s right.”

Moving to the vacant machine on the left, Seokwon cast a chilling gaze toward Ian.

“I’ll end this quickly, just the way you jocks want it. Now sit down.”

The cutting insult landed without hesitation, and the onlookers who had been watching this unfold with rapt interest let out a chorus of impressed gasps.

“Now that’s bold!”
“Those athletes really are pretty crude!”
“Hehehehe.”

As the atmosphere heated up in an instant, Ian’s eyes blazed with murderous intent.

“What did you just say!”

Just as Ian looked ready to charge forward and throw a punch, O’Brien quickly stepped in.

“Both of you, stop it! If you don’t, I’m disqualifying you both.”

At O’Brien’s firm tone, Ian’s thick lips twitched, and he reluctantly stepped back as if he had no choice.

“Tch! I’m not done with you, you bastard.”

His expression promised retribution with a rather menacing edge, but I maintained an indifferent face and simply ignored him.

“Hey!”
“Ian Ranfield! You’re not playing this game!”

O’Brien issued another sharp warning.
Ian glared daggers at O’Brien and me in turn, then huffed irritably before reluctantly trudging over to sit at the arcade machine across the way.

“I’m going to absolutely destroy you.”

When Ian selected Ken from the roster of characters, I chose Ryu without hesitation.

“As you should know, the preliminaries are single-elimination.”

O’Brien briefly explained the tournament rules.
The moment the match was about to begin, people scattered throughout the arcade gathered around us and started watching the game.

[Round 1]
[Fight!]

The instant the match started, I closed the distance rapidly and seized my opponent’s collar, executing a powerful throw.
Ken struggled to rise from the ground, but I didn’t allow it.
With fluid hand movements, I manipulated the joystick and buttons, launching into the air, spinning, and unleashing a devastating spinning kick—the Tatsumaki Senpukyaku.

[Ata-ta-ta-tatsumaki!]
Thwack!

With each crisp impact, Ken’s health bar plummeted below half in mere moments.
Overwhelmed from the opening seconds, Ian couldn’t hide his shock and let out a curse.

“Fuck!”

He tried desperately to mount a counterattack, but by then I was already manipulating the joystick with dazzling precision, unleashing my ultimate technique—the Shoryuken.

[Shoryuken!]
Crack!

As Ryu thrust his fist skyward and ascended like a dragon taking flight, Ken—his stamina gauge depleted—was sent flying pathetically through the air before crashing to the ground.
The victorious Ryu stood over Ken’s sprawled form, arms crossed in a triumphant pose.
The match had ended in mere seconds from its start.

[You win.]

“Wow!”
“It’s already over?!”
“I saw him finish it in an instant.”
“That’s insane!”
“Ian was acting all high and mighty, but he’s nothing special.”

The spectators watching from behind erupted in amazement and cheers, astonished by Ryu’s skill.
Moreover, it had been a flawless victory—he hadn’t taken a single hit during the entire match.
Roy, who had been nervously holding his breath fearing a humiliating defeat, clenched both fists and bounced excitedly as if he’d won the match himself.

“That’s it! Exactly like that!”

Roy patted Ryu’s shoulder enthusiastically, making a fuss over the victory.

“Well done!”

Ryu rose calmly despite the commotion around him, then glanced at Ian, whose face flushed with frustration as his head hung low, and uttered a single remark.

“Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”

It was a famous quote from the renowned boxer Mike Tyson.
As laughter erupted from the crowd behind him, Ian—already burning with humiliation at having been unable to mount a single counterattack—twisted his expression in rage.
His glare was fierce enough to intimidate, yet Ryu met it unflinchingly with unwavering confidence.

‘The loser can’t do anything about it.’

Besides, the crowd was already on his side.
Realizing this, Ian slammed his fist against an arcade machine and abruptly turned away.

“You said it was a single match, so that settles it, right?”

O’Brien, who had been watching the situation with interest, nodded his head.

“Alright.”
“Then I’m heading out.”

I picked up the backpack I’d set on the floor, slung it over one shoulder, and turned to leave the pub.

“Damn monkey bastard….”

As Ian watched my retreating figure, his teeth grinding, the Rugby Team members beside him grumbled in discontented voices.

“Hey, this is embarrassing. What is this?”
“How could we lose without even getting a single attack in?”

Ian had come here so confidently, only to end up humiliated.

“Shut up!”

Ian suddenly shouted in anger and snatched the beer one of his teammates was holding, then poured it down his throat in one gulp.

Meanwhile, Roy, who had followed me outside the pub, walked toward the scooter while continuously giving thumbs up.

“Whew! I didn’t like the way that bastard was acting all high and mighty, but he got knocked flat on his ass the moment it started. Absolutely legendary! You’re the best!”

Unlike Roy, who was making a fuss, I maintained an unbothered expression.

“More importantly, you should have told me you were coming here.”
“Sorry. But honestly, if I’d told you it was a preliminary match, would you have come willingly?”
“Well… I suppose not.”

Roy was right—if I’d known it was a preliminary match, I would have refused outright.
Noticing that I didn’t seem particularly angry, Roy glanced at me cautiously and spoke.

“The next match is tomorrow. You’re coming, right?”
“I have class tomorrow.”
“Just skip it.”
“Why did you even come to Harvard University?”

I furrowed my brow as I answered.

“I can’t. It’s Professor Frank’s class.”

He was renowned among Harvard University professors for being particularly strict.
Especially notorious for ruthlessly giving an F to anyone who missed class more than three times, Roy let out a groan and wore an expression as if the world had ended.

“Of all people, it had to be him!”

Seokwon chuckled as he watched Roy, half-dazed.

“What time is the match?”
“Three in the afternoon.”
“If it ends around two-thirty, it’ll be cutting it close.”

Roy’s eyes suddenly gleamed as he answered eagerly.

“I’ll give you a ride on my scooter like today. Don’t worry!”
“Hmm.”
“Come on, you’re going, right? We won today anyway.”
“I’ll decide after watching you play.”

Seokwon settled onto the back of the scooter and fastened his helmet.

“I’m hungry. Let’s grab dinner.”
“I’ll take you to the best sandwich shop in Harvard Yard.”
“You’re buying?”
“Of course… but you’re from a wealthy family! Are you trying to squeeze money out of a poor working man?”
“That’s funny. I know you’re making decent money assembling computers. Where’s this coming from?”
“Why should only you do it?”

Roy shrugged and glanced back slightly.

“How about we go Dutch?”
“Fine, just start driving.”
“Okay.”

Roy kicked the scooter to life and shot forward.

* * *

Four days later, Manhattan, New York, USA.
Salomon Brothers headquarters trading floor.
Cox sat surrounded by four computer monitors as the pound sterling continued its relentless collapse.
Though his face had grown gaunt from more than a week of consecutive all-nighters, his eyes gleamed with vitality—the radiance of someone reaping enormous profits from pound investments.
I stared at the monitor displaying the ceaselessly fluctuating exchange rate graph with the intensity of a stone sentinel, utterly transfixed.
When the plummeting pound finally breached the one-dollar threshold, I immediately seized the receiver before me.

“Buy pounds, one billion dollars, 0.99 dollars immediately!”

I waited without lifting my gaze from the monitor, and the response came swiftly.

[Transaction confirmed.]
“Okay.”

I set down the receiver and checked the monitor—the exchange rate graph that had briefly spiked upward immediately reversed course, resuming its downward trajectory.
The fact that the market absorbed a single purchase of one billion dollars in pounds so effortlessly spoke volumes about the sheer magnitude and ferocity of the selling pressure.
After liquidating my entire position and calculating the returns, I let out a low whistle.

“31.12 percent. That’s truly remarkable.”

The profits from a single transaction had exceeded three hundred million dollars by a considerable margin.
Even the most celebrated star traders on Wall Street would struggle to achieve such results.

“And all within less than a month, no less.”

The more I contemplated it, the more astonishing it seemed.
Cox extended one arm and picked up the receiver again, dialing Stone.

[Hello.]
“I’ve just liquidated my entire pound position.”
[I see. We reached our target price faster than anticipated.]

I listened to the soft, measured voice coming through the receiver, a subtle smile playing at the corners of my mouth.

“Aren’t you curious about the confirmed profit figure?”
[How much?]
“Three hundred and eleven million, two hundred thousand dollars!”

I continued speaking, my teeth flashing in a broad grin.

“Congratulations on becoming a billionaire.”

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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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