Golden Spoon Investment Portfolio - Chapter 154

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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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154. Why did Roy bring this?

A taxi pulled up to the entrance of the Fairmont San Francisco Hotel, perched atop Nob Hill with sweeping views of the vast Pacific Ocean and the beautiful San Francisco skyline below.
The car door opened, and three young men stepped out of the taxi.
The man who emerged from the passenger seat looked familiar—it was Roy, who had shared a dormitory room with Seok-won at Harvard University.
The seven-story hotel building, constructed of white granite, boasted an elegant and timeless exterior.
Beneath the awnings designed to shield guests from the intense sunlight stood doormen in crisp uniforms, a sight that immediately conveyed the hotel’s five-star status.
Mamata Banerji, an Indian man with an oval face and glasses, gazed up at the hotel building and casually asked Roy beside him.

“Your friend is staying here, right?”
“Yeah.”

Then Professor Frank, with brown hair and a slightly stocky build, muttered with an apprehensive expression.

“This place is incredibly expensive… I’m not sure guys like us should even be going in there.”
“Why not?”
“Didn’t you say he was a friend you shared a dormitory room with at Harvard?”
“Yeah. But he has quite a bit of money.”

Roy shrugged his shoulders.

“His family must be wealthy?”
“Well, his family is well-off, but he’s got a real talent for making money. He became incredibly rich on his own without any help from his family. Recently, he hit it big and came into a massive fortune.”
“What kind of big? Did he win the Powerball or something?”

Professor Frank asked with curious interest, his simple nature showing through.
Banerji didn’t say anything, but he was clearly intrigued as well.

“You know Netscape, the one that just went public on NASDAQ recently?”

Both men nodded simultaneously.

“Of course.”
“It’s the hottest company in Silicon Valley right now. Who doesn’t know about it?”

In fact, Silicon Valley—the global center of the IT industry and the cradle of innovation—was watching Netscape’s extraordinary success with just as much fervor as Wall Street itself.
A startup venture founded less than two years ago had skyrocketed in stock price the moment it listed on NASDAQ, and the story of a young entrepreneur not yet thirty becoming a billionaire overnight was more than enough to set every venture founder’s heart racing in Silicon Valley.
Roy himself still found it difficult to believe that whenever newspapers and television spoke of Netscape’s success, the protagonists of this incredible story were actually his friends.

“You know Tom Harper, who founded Netscape, is my friend, right?”
“Of course.”
“Obviously.”

Since they had heard this story long before the stock listing, both men wore expressions asking why he was bringing it up again.

“The person who provided the initial investment when Tom founded Netscape is the guy we’re meeting today.”
“What!”
“Really?”

This was genuinely news to them, and Banerji and Professor Frank’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why would I lie to you two?”
“You should have told us this earlier! Why are you just mentioning it now?”
“You two never asked.”

Faced with such shameless audacity, both men were left speechless.
Roy was someone who loved to meddle and talk a lot, but he would never boast by trading on a friend’s name.
Moreover, he was reluctant to casually spread stories that might harm Seok-won or Tom, who had become genuine celebrities.
As for Tom Harper, the three of them had naturally come together to start a venture because of the web browser Netscape, so the story came up naturally—otherwise, he would have kept his mouth shut all this time.

“Then he must have made a fortune from the Netscape listing!”

At Professor Frank’s words about money shining in his eyes, Banerji’s expression brightened as well.
Seeing their reaction, Roy spoke with a serious face.

“He’s wealthy, sure, but he’s not the type to spend money recklessly. And I don’t plan to rely on our friendship to get comfortable investment either.”
“Who said anything? We weren’t thinking that shallowly either.”

Banerji raised one hand to adjust his glasses and grumbled.

“That’s right. Unless we genuinely love the idea after hearing the pitch, I don’t want to secure investment just because we’re friends.”

Professor Frank, with his hand resting on his thick waist, chimed in from beside him.
They had started the venture with ambitious dreams, but the development costs were far higher than expected, leaving their finances stretched thin.
Roy felt grateful toward his partners—they could have hinted at him to secure investment by any means necessary, yet they refrained from doing so.

“We’ll be late at this rate. Let’s head in.”

Roy checked the watch on his wrist and took the first step forward.

“Right.”
“I’ve never been inside a hotel like this before. Wow… I’m nervous.”

Passing through the revolving doors, Roy and his friends entered the lobby, where Italian natural marble floors and an atmosphere of classical elegance and refinement subtly intimidated them.
A pleasant fragrance seemed to drift through the air, and soft classical music played gently, prompting them to instinctively check their attire.
Fortunately, they had dressed reasonably well; had they arrived in their usual t-shirts and jeans, they might have been mortified beyond recovery.
As the three of them shuffled nervously toward the hotel front desk, a neatly dressed male staff member greeted them with a warm smile and courteous manner.

“How may I assist you?”

At that, Professor Frank and Mamata Banerji turned their heads to look at Roy.
Both were skilled with computers but had no reason to frequent such upscale establishments, and their expressions betrayed their uncertainty about how to proceed.

“Ahem.”

Roy, left with no choice but to step forward, cleared his throat and spoke as naturally as he could manage.

“We’re here to meet Park Seok-won, who’s staying in the penthouse. Would it be possible to contact him for us?”

The staff member’s expression shifted slightly as his eyes quickly swept over Roy and his companions.
All three were quite young and dressed in suits, yet something about their appearance seemed awkward and uncomfortable.
Their attire was entirely at odds with guests who stayed in penthouses costing tens of thousands of dollars per night.
A hint of suspicion flickered across the staff member’s eyes, but a luxury hotel employee could not afford to show such doubts.

“Forgive me, but may I have your name, please?”

Speaking with deliberately greater formality, the staff member waited as Roy quickly responded.

“Roy—he should know the name.”

At that, the staff member recalled the memo he had received beforehand and replied brightly.

“Ah, are you Mr. Roy Morton?”
“Yes.”
“I was instructed to escort you directly to the Penthouse once you arrived.”
“Is that so?”

Roy, who had been slightly tense, immediately relaxed and broke into a broad smile.
Then he turned to his friends on either side and boasted.

“See? I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
“Got it.”
“Ugh….”

I wanted to smack that infuriating back of his head, but I couldn’t do it in front of the Hotel Staff Member.

“Please follow me, and I’ll show you the way.”

With those words, the staff member turned from the front desk and came out.
As we stepped out of the Elevator on the top floor, a spacious corridor with thick carpeting appeared.
Unlike other floors where guest rooms lined both sides, an expensive-looking antique console held a vase overflowing with pale pink roses, and an exquisite landscape painting hung on the wall.
There was only one door—the entrance to the Penthouse.
It was designed to open widely on both sides, and at first glance it exuded elegance and opulence.

“This way, please.”

The staff member standing before the Penthouse entrance pressed the doorbell mounted on the wall.
Shortly after, the door opened and a powerfully built Black Man emerged.
It was Bockus, the bodyguard.
Bockus swept his sharp gaze over the Hotel Staff Member and the three people standing behind, then asked.

“What brings you here?”
“Mr. Roy Morton, whom you were expecting, has arrived.”

Bockus looked at Roy and his friends once more, then stepped aside and spoke in a deep voice.

“Please come in.”

As the Hotel Staff Member cleared the way, Roy and his friends entered the Penthouse cautiously, their postures stiff with apprehension.
Stepping into the expansive Penthouse, which seemed to exceed 1,000 square feet, the first thing that caught our eyes was the vast panoramic floor-to-ceiling window far ahead, framing the Golden Gate Bridge—San Francisco’s iconic landmark—and the sprawling cityscape beneath the hills.
A gleaming crystal chandelier hung from a ceiling much higher than in standard guest rooms, and expensive-looking leather sofas and antique furniture were arranged throughout.

“Boss. We have a visitor.”

As Bockus followed him in and spoke, I looked up from the documents I’d been reviewing while sitting on the sofa in the center of the spacious living room, dressed in comfortable slacks and a shirt.

“Roy! Come on in.”

Spotting Roy standing with his friends, I rose from my seat with a delighted expression.
Then I approached him with a smile and extended my hand first.

“It’s been such a long time.”
“Yeah, it has.”

Roy was deeply moved by how his friend treated him exactly as before, unchanged despite becoming a multimillionaire from the Netscape listing.
Of course, he’d been making enormous sums of money even before that, but from Roy’s perspective—unaware of the full situation—my unchanged demeanor was simply a relief.

“You’ve been pretty quiet lately, haven’t you?”
“I’m glad you noticed.”

I turned my gaze toward Professor Frank and Banerji, who stood hesitantly behind Roy, and asked.

“Are these the friends you’re going into business with?”
“That’s right. The heavier-set one here is Professor Frank, and next to him is Banerji.”

As Roy introduced them, the two men introduced themselves first, their expressions clearly showing both awkwardness and subtle apprehension.

“My name is Mamata Banerji.”
“I’m Professor Frank.”

I extended my hand without hesitation to both of them, offering a handshake.

“Pleased to meet you. As you’ve probably heard, I’m Park Seok-won, a university classmate of this fellow. Back in the day, we even shared a dorm room together.”

Despite being enormously wealthy, my unpretentious and straightforward demeanor caused the two men to gradually relax, their eyes reflecting a growing warmth.

“We seem to be around the same age, and since you’re Roy’s friends, you’re my friends too—so feel free to speak comfortably.”
“Still, this is our first meeting….”

When Professor Frank, the more reserved of the two, hesitated, Roy spoke with evident exasperation.

“Just relax. Seok-won said it’s fine anyway.”
“Oh, well then… should we?”
“Ahem. I’ll do my best, at least.”

Professor Frank and Mamata Banerji responded, both trying to shake off their awkwardness.

“Well then, shall we dispense with the formalities and sit down to talk?”

I gestured with a smile toward the sofa in the living room.
Rather than taking the seat of honor in the center, I deliberately positioned myself on the right sofa with the glass window behind me, offering a view of the landscape, and looked at Roy and his friends as I spoke.

“Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’ll have a cold iced coffee.”

Unlike Roy, who spoke without hesitation, Professor Frank and Mamata Banerji seemed uncertain what to say.

“We have most things available, so feel free to choose. Cola, juice… or perhaps a light cocktail or beer?”
“W-we’ll have the same as Roy.”
“Of course. Coffee is fine.”

At that, I called over Bockus, who had been standing like a shadow in the corner.

“Four iced coffees, please.”
“Understood, boss.”

Bockus headed to the mini bar attached to the penthouse and began expertly preparing the iced coffees.
Roy and his friends, who had naturally expected room service to be called, watched in amazement as Bockus worked his craft.

“Wow…”
“How is he making it so well?”

As Roy and his friends marveled unconsciously at Bockus’s nearly barista-level skill, I chuckled and spoke.

“He’s my bodyguard, but he’s surprisingly talented.”

I crossed one leg and asked Roy a question.

“I don’t think I saw you at school. Did you two meet in Silicon Valley?”
“That’s right. Both of them graduated from Stanford University.”

Roy, noticeably more at ease than when I first met him, nodded in acknowledgment.
Stanford University, a prestigious private institution located in California, was among the finest in the United States—comparable to Harvard in every respect.
Given its proximity to Silicon Valley, the university had produced numerous founders of renowned IT companies whose names were instantly recognizable, earning it the distinction of being called the cradle of venture enterprises.

I recalled that the founders of Yahoo and Google were also Stanford alumni.

When Bockus brought an iced Americano and set it on the table, I dismissed the fleeting thought that had just surfaced.

“You said you had something to show me?”
“That’s right.”

Roy unfolded the notebook he’d been carrying under his arm and powered it on.
Compared to the notebook I’d used before my regression, this one was not only considerably thicker and heavier, but its performance was abysmal—with RAM of merely 8MB to 16MB and a hard disk capacity of just 1GB.
It would be more accurate to call it a blunt instrument perfectly suited for striking someone over the head rather than a notebook.
Even the lightest models of this era weighed around 3 kilograms, so I wasn’t exaggerating.
Yet in this time period, it was a premium product incorporating cutting-edge technology.
After the lengthy boot process finally completed, Roy turned the screen toward me and spoke with unmistakable gravity.

“It’s an internet service we’ve created. Take a look at it.”

Without giving it much thought, I pulled the notebook closer and gasped in astonishment at what appeared on the screen, my eyes widening.

This is Hotmail! Why would Roy bring this to me?

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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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