Golden Spoon Investment Portfolio - Chapter 223

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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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223. If I lose all my money, I won’t have anything left to pay the charitable donation I’ve wagered.

Tuesday morning, January 2nd, 1996.
Snow that had begun falling the previous night continued to drift down as John Miller, a middle-aged man with a toad-like appearance, stood in the Executive Office of P&P Partners located in a high-rise building overlooking the New York Stock Exchange, holding a mobile phone and speaking with someone.

“You’re certain that Chief Secretary Huxley is scheduled to meet with Speaker Sabitz?”

Miller, standing by the window, asked while gazing down at the congested streets below filled with vehicles.
A man with a deep voice answered from the mobile phone.

[Judging by the fact that President Davidson has cancelled all his afternoon appointments and will remain at the White House, it appears they intend to settle the federal budget issue one way or another today.]

Miller nodded slightly at what the lobbyist—with whom he had maintained a long-standing relationship and received information—said.

“Indeed, public opinion has soured over the prolonged shutdown, and if this extends beyond today, it will surpass the longest federal government closure on record. Both sides must be finding it burdensome to continue this power struggle.”
[That’s correct. While it’s an unlikely scenario, there are even concerns that the United States’ national credit rating could be downgraded.]

Miller held the phone to his ear and let out a derisive snort.

“The credit rating of the United States, the world’s most powerful nation issuing reserve currency, declining? That’s absurd.”
[Doesn’t that very concern demonstrate how grave the anxiety and uncertainty surrounding the federal government closure truly is?]
“It’s needless worry, but it will certainly exert considerable pressure on the White House and Congress.”
[That’s why there’s considerable optimism in Washington that the federal budget bill, which has been adrift, will be finalized by today.]

Miller smiled with satisfaction, raising one corner of his mouth as he spoke.

“Let me know immediately if any additional information comes in.”
[Of course.]

After ending the call, Miller tucked the mobile phone into his inner jacket pocket and gazed toward the New York Stock Exchange with its large American flag displayed outside, recalling Seok-won whom he had met at the year-end charity gala.

“The young punk got a bit of luck a few times and started acting cocky—now look at him.”

Miller scoffed and then turned away from the window, settling into the large mahogany desk.
He then picked up the intercom receiver and pressed a button.

[Yes.]

The dial tone sounded, and when a man with a husky voice answered, he leaned back against the chair and spoke.

“It’s me.”

The person on the other end recognized his voice and responded immediately.
[Yes, sir. What can I do for you?]
“What’s the opening price for the S&P 500 futures today?”
[615.11.]
“Then as soon as the market opens, I want you to purchase 500 million dollars’ worth of futures.”

The person on the other end expressed slight concern.

[The shutdown has lasted longer than expected, and the stock market is showing sideways movement. Are you sure about this?]

Recalling the conversation from moments earlier, John Miller spoke with confidence.

“The bad news will be resolved by today. So make sure to complete the futures purchase this morning.”

Sensing that he possessed information the other party didn’t know about, the voice on the other end asked no further questions and simply followed the instructions.

[Understood.]

John Miller hung up the phone and chuckled to himself.

“If this short squeeze blows up and wipes out all my funds, I wonder if I’ll even have money left to pay the charity bet I wagered.”

Leaning back in the plush chair, John Miller wore an expression of supreme confidence, certain of victory in the wager he’d made with Seok-won.

***

In a moderately sized office with four television sets lined up and muted, a dark-haired middle-aged Caucasian man sat at his desk reviewing documents.
Knock knock.
At the sound of the knock, Michael Bobit, the head of the securities division at CNBC Broadcasting Station, looked up and spoke.

“Come in.”
“Excuse me.”

Debra walked through the door in a white blouse and slacks, positioning herself before the desk.

“You called for me.”
“Yes. Have a seat over there.”

Michael Bobit gestured with his chin toward the sofa positioned to one side.

“Of course.”

As I watched Debra respond curtly and move toward the sofa, I rose from my seat and walked toward the coffee pot by the window, asking a question.

“Would you care for a cup of coffee?”
“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

I poured coffee into a mug and handed it to her, then retrieved a thin folder from the desk and settled into the center seat.

“You saw the ratings for last week’s Prime News Time, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”

I offered her praise with a gentle expression.

“Park Seok-won, wasn’t it? Interviewing the Eldorado Fund representative, who’d been virtually invisible to the media until now—that was excellent work. The ratings came in even better than expected.”
“Thank you.”
“You waited for him during his morning jog and managed to corner him for the interview, correct?”
“Yes.”

I nodded, clearly satisfied.

“That’s right. You need that kind of tenacity to land a scoop.”
“Haha….”

Debra laughed awkwardly and glanced away.
Things had worked out well, but if Seok-won had been angry enough to actually file a massive lawsuit against CNBC, her laughing face would have transformed into something demonic, and she’d have caused a scene.
In any case, with the Eldorado Fund representative—previously shrouded in mystery—now having given an interview, coupled with the revelation that he’d placed short bets predicting a prolonged shutdown, the story had become a major issue, and over the past few days, my face hadn’t lost its smile.

“You’re busy, so let me get straight to the point.”

I slid the folder in front of me toward Debra.

“If my memory serves me correctly, your employment contract ends around May of this year.”
“Yes.”

Debra straightened her posture slightly, a hint of tension crossing her face.

“I’ve been impressed by your ambitious and diligent work throughout this period. More than anything, seeing you land such a challenging interview has given me confidence in your abilities. That’s why I’m thinking of hiring you as a permanent employee rather than a contract worker. How do you feel about that?”

Debra’s eyes widened as she stared at Michael Bobit in astonishment.
Though she carried the title of journalist, her position had been precarious as a contract worker, and when the proposal she’d so desperately wanted suddenly materialized, she found herself momentarily at a loss for words.

“Me?”
“Yes. The specific employment terms are written there, so review them and let me know if there’s anything that concerns you or if anything is lacking.”

Debra picked up the folder and immediately opened it, beginning to carefully read through the employment contract inside.
While she did so, Michael Bobit picked up his mug and sipped his coffee, patiently waiting for her to finish reviewing the contents.
After some time had passed, when Debra finally looked away from the contract, Michael Bobit set down his mug and asked.

“What do you think?”
“I don’t see anything that needs changing.”

Michael Bobit smiled knowingly, as if he’d expected exactly that response.

“Then sign it.”

Debra quickly retrieved the fountain pen she always carried from her pocket and signed her name.
Once the contract was completed, Michael Bobit extended his hand first and spoke.

“From now on, keep breaking stories like this one so you can prove my decision wasn’t wrong.”
“Yes! I’ll do my very best.”
“And since the interview with the Eldorado Fund representative has been receiving quite positive viewer feedback, try developing a proposal with a similar concept. If it looks good, I’ll create a segment during prime news time and put you in charge of it.”

At those words, Debra asked in disbelief.

“Really?”
“Yes. So work hard.”

Having just grasped such a tremendous opportunity, Debra nodded eagerly, brimming with enthusiasm.

“Yes. I won’t let you down!”

A short while later, Debra emerged from the Director’s office with her face flushed with excitement.
She had secured the permanent staff position she’d been wanting, and though it wasn’t yet confirmed, there was a real possibility that her own segment might air during prime time news—the golden hour slot. There was no way she couldn’t be delighted.

“Hey, Debra.”

Yan, who had just come back into the office after smoking a quick cigarette, spotted her and teased her lightly.

“Did something good happen? Why are you grinning like an idiot?”

Normally, Debra would have shot back with a sharp retort, but this time she simply broke into a radiant smile.

“Hehe. Is it that obvious?”
“What… what’s wrong with you?”

Yan recoiled as if witnessing something unbearable, then stepped back and looked her up and down.

“You didn’t eat something bad, did you?”
“I just signed the permanent employment contract in the Director’s office.”
“Really?”

Yan’s eyes widened in surprise as she nodded in confirmation.

“I didn’t see you coming out of the Director’s office.”
“Wow! Congratulations! You finally did it!”
“Hehe. On a day like this, we should celebrate with a drink.”

At the mention of alcohol, Yan’s eyes lit up.

“Of course. I was going to suggest it anyway.”
“Let’s go to our usual place after work. My treat.”
“That sounds perfect. I’m really happy for you.”

Yan nodded readily and offered her sincere congratulations once more.
The other staff members in the office, hearing the news, chimed in with their own words of congratulation, and the atmosphere became lively.
With an excited expression, Debra settled into her seat and opened the diary she always carried with her to draft the proposal outline.
Just then, her eyes caught the television screens set up as monitors across from her, where the New York Stock Exchange closing report was being broadcast.

[Dow Jones 30 Industrial Average 64.31▲
5181.43
S&P 500 5.19▲ 620.30]

Buoyed by expectations of a federal budget agreement, the New York stock market surged from the very first trading day of the new year.

“Will it be alright….”

Debra recalled Seok-won’s short bet on the S&P 500 and muttered anxiously.

***

“Krug Collection 1989.”

A neatly dressed Hotel Staff Member held a long-necked black champagne bottle with both hands and showed me the attached label for confirmation.
When Seok-won gave a small nod, the staff member uncorked the bottle before my eyes and filled a transparent glass flute with practiced grace.
I lifted the glass of golden champagne, inhaled its bouquet, and with a satisfied expression, took a sip.
The staff member, gauging my reaction, carefully placed a pristine porcelain plate on the dining table and lifted the silver dome.
A wisp of white steam billowed forth, revealing a salmon dish smoked with cherry wood.
I cut a small piece with my fork and knife, and as it melted delicately on my tongue, the exquisite flavor was unmistakable.
While I sat alone at the dining table in the Penthouse, enjoying an early dinner ordered through room service, Bockus approached from the side and extended a mobile phone.

“It’s Landon Shore calling.”

Seok-won wiped around his mouth with a napkin and brought the phone to his ear.

“It’s me.”
[The S&P 500 rose 5.19 points earlier and closed at 620.30.]

Unlike Landon’s slightly subdued tone, I spoke calmly.

“The market was quite strong from day one.”
[The stocks we shorted surged significantly, and as soon as the market closed, calls came in from Goldman Sachs and Lehman Brothers demanding additional margin deposits.]
“How much are they asking for?”
[Five hundred million dollars each.]

Though I needed to deposit an additional one billion dollars in margin, Seok-won showed no particular disturbance.

“We have sufficient cash, so deposit whatever amount you deem necessary.”
[Understood.]
“By the way, how did Huxley’s meeting with Speaker Sabitz go?”
[Wall Street anticipated a dramatic resolution, but given the lack of any significant developments from the White House thus far, it appears they haven’t narrowed their differences.]

Seok-won sipped his champagne and responded without particular surprise.

“So we’re breaking the record for the longest shutdown.”
[It does appear to be heading that way.]
“When expectations run high, disappointment grows proportionally. Let’s continue monitoring the market with a measured approach.”
[I will do so.]

After exchanging a few more words, Seok-won ended the call and handed the phone back to Bockus, then resumed his meal at a leisurely pace.

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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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