Golden Spoon Investment Portfolio - Chapter 225

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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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225. Didn’t I tell you? You won’t know who wins or loses until the game is completely finished.

Tuesday, January 9th, 1996.
Under a brilliantly clear sky unmarred by a single cloud—a rare sight after so long—John Miller stepped into the anteroom wearing a cashmere coat, a leather briefcase in one hand.
The Female Secretary, who had already come out and was seated at her desk attending to work, quickly rose to her feet.

“Good morning, sir.”

Milburn, his stubborn face set firm, gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

“Beautiful weather indeed. A truly refreshing morning.”

The Female Secretary’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before she quickly masked her expression.

“Yes, sir.”
“Bring me a cup of coffee in my office.”
“Understood.”

Milburn strode purposefully into the Executive Office beyond.
The Female Secretary, who had been standing quietly with her head bowed, finally let her astonished expression show as she stared at the closed Executive Office door and murmured to herself.

“What’s gotten into him? Did something good happen today?”

Normally, he would either grunt dismissively, moving only his jaw, or simply ignore her altogether—he rarely engaged in conversation like this.
Meanwhile, the moment Milburn entered, he removed his coat and hung it on the rack, then made his way to the desk positioned by the window where sunlight streamed in generously, and sat down.
Neatly arranged across the broad desktop lay the Wall Street Journal and earnings forecast reports from major corporations.
Milburn picked up the Wall Street Journal first and scanned the front-page headline printed in bold type.

[Federal Budget Deal Resolves Headwinds—New York Stock Market Surges!]

The prolonged shutdown situation, which had yielded few signs of resolution, combined with favorable economic indicators including unemployment rates, had fueled growing concerns that the Federal Reserve would find it difficult to cut rates further. Consequently, the stock market, which had held up well until then, had collapsed sharply on Friday.
With the S&P 500 plummeting nearly 10 points in a single day, Milburn’s heart had sunk as well.
The wager with Seok-won was one thing, but having purchased 500 million dollars’ worth of S&P 500 futures while the index crashed meant the losses would be catastrophic.
Just as he was seriously contemplating whether to accept the losses and liquidate his long position when the market reopened on Monday.
The White House and the Republican Party, who had been locked in fierce confrontation until the previous day, reached a dramatic agreement on the federal budget, reversing the situation once again.

“It truly felt like riding a roller coaster all weekend.”

The exhilaration I’d felt when I received that call from Washington while deliberating countermeasures in the Estate Study—the news that the budget agreement had been finalized—still lingered vividly in my chest.
As a result, the New York stock market, which had shown signs of anxiety, erupted in a spectacular surge the moment Monday’s opening bell rang, climbing a remarkable 12.78 points as if nothing had ever troubled it.

“The S&P 500 didn’t plummet at all—it breezed past the previous high at 630.11. That arrogant bastard won’t have a word to say now.”

The satisfaction of having thoroughly humbled Seok-won’s insufferable arrogance from the year-end charity gala, coupled with the substantial profits I’d reaped, felt like a long-standing weight lifting from my shoulders entirely.
My mood was so buoyant that I’d even found myself humming cheerfully while showering this morning.
When a knock sounded at the door, Milburn set down the Wall Street Journal he’d been holding.

“Come in.”
“Pardon the intrusion.”

The Female Secretary, supporting the tray with both hands, set a steaming coffee cup on the desk and spoke.

“Roy requested that the meeting scheduled for 2 o’clock be moved up by about thirty minutes. How would you like to proceed?”

Ordinarily, Milburn would have bristled with irritation immediately, but today he was remarkably gracious.

“Is there anything else scheduled at that time?”
“Ah… No. Fortunately, the schedule is clear.”

The Female Secretary answered promptly, swallowing her surprise.

“Then make that adjustment.”
“Understood.”

As the Female Secretary left the Executive Office with the empty tray, Milburn took a sip of coffee, checked the watch on his wrist, and pressed the power button on his computer.

Whirrrr.

With the sound of the fan spinning, two bulky CRT monitors positioned side by side on the desk and tower unit powered on.
Sipping his coffee, Milburn waited leisurely for the boot sequence to complete, then entered his eight-digit password when the login screen appeared and immediately launched the trading program.
After leaning back in his chair for a few minutes, the New York stock market opened and trading commenced.
Unlike yesterday, when buy orders flooded in and prices surged dramatically, today the S&P 500 fluctuated around the 630 mark, displaying a consolidation pattern.

“Hmm. It climbed significantly yesterday, so taking a breather for a day isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

While some believed that concerns about corporate earnings could trigger a flood of profit-taking sales, Milburn didn’t worry much because he thought the force pulling the market upward was stronger than that.

“Come to think of it, today is the last day of our bet.”

Counting from the day after Christmas when the year-end charity gala had taken place, today marked exactly two weeks.

“I should have put that business card I received back then in here.”

Milburn pulled out a thick business card holder from his desk drawer and rummaged through it, quickly finding Seok-won’s card from the year-end charity gala.
With a smirk and a self-satisfied chuckle, he extracted the card, held it in his hand, rose from his chair, and walked toward the window.
True to Manhattan’s notorious traffic congestion, the streets below were packed with cars today as well.
Looking down at the streets teeming with hurrying pedestrians and vehicles, Milburn pulled out his mobile phone, glanced at the number on the business card, and pressed the buttons.
After a brief ringing tone, a deep voice soon reached his ear.

[Hello.]
“This is John Miller from P&P Partners.”

Milburn introduced himself with a triumphant expression.

[Ah. I hope you’ve been doing well.]

At the tone suggesting he’d only just remembered, Milburn inwardly scoffed.
By now, the S&P 500 index must have skyrocketed, and his insides were surely burning, yet he was pretending to be composed with such obvious bravado.
But since I was the winner of the bet, Milburn asked with a contemptuous smile playing at his lips.

“I’m not calling about anything else—you remember the bet we made that day, don’t you?”
[Of course I do.]

Seok-won answered without hesitation.

“Then you must also know that today is the final day.”

As I asked with supreme confidence, Seok-won replied as if it were obvious.

[It feels like just yesterday we did the New Year countdown at Times Square, and yet here we are.]

Since his reaction was entirely different from what I’d expected, Milburn deliberately needled him with sarcasm.

“You must be feeling quite down—losing big on short-selling and then losing the bet on top of that. But since it’s going to charity, try not to feel too bad about it.”

Imagining Seok-won’s pained expression on the other end of the line, Miller’s lips curled upward into a smirk.
Yet Seok-won showed no sign of discomfort; instead, his tone carried a note of genuine relief.

[I’m glad you see it that way.]
“Hmm?”

Miller, unable to immediately grasp the meaning, furrowed his brow while holding the phone to his ear, and Seok-won continued.

[Yogi Berra, the legendary New York Yankees player, once said: “It ain’t over till it’s over.”]

Internally, Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval, thinking that despite the outcome being already decided, Seok-won refused to accept defeat gracefully and was clinging to false hope.

“Didn’t you see what the S&P 500 opened at today? The shutdown—the biggest headwind crushing the market—is finally over. There’s not even a 0.1% chance the game will turn around. Clinging to such talk and showing regret like this is truly disappointing.”
[It seems you haven’t checked the index properly yourself, Miller.]
“What?”

Miller’s face twisted in open irritation and annoyance.

[The market color has changed. Why don’t you check the index once more?]
“Ha! This is absurd.”

Miller let out a hollow laugh and turned toward his desk.

“What nonsense is he spouting?”

Thoroughly enraged, Miller checked the three major indices graph displayed on his desktop monitor—and his body went rigid in an instant.
The S&P 500, which had maintained the 630 line with a flat trend just moments before the market opened, had plummeted more than five points below, as if it were a lie.

“This… what…?”

Miller’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stammered.
Then Seok-won’s composed voice flowed from the receiver.

[Didn’t I tell you? The winner is only known when the game is truly finished.]
“No… how… how is this possible?”

Too stunned to respond properly to the sarcasm, Miller could only stare at the S&P 500 continuing its vertical descent.
At that same moment, a telephone on the corner of his desk rang loudly and insistently.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Hearing the phone ring, Seok-won let out a low chuckle and spoke.

[You seem busy, so I’ll hang up now.]

Milburn stood frozen, holding his mobile phone to his ear, staring blankly at the monitor.
Even as the relentless ringing pierced his eardrums, Milburn finally lowered his mobile and picked up the desk phone.

[Sir! We have a crisis. All three major indices are plummeting right now.]

The Fund Investment Manager’s urgent voice snapped Milburn back to reality.

“The market was perfectly fine just moments ago! What on earth is happening?!”

Milburn’s face contorted as he erupted in anger.
The Trading Floor was in chaos—phones ringing frantically in the background and voices shouting over one another.
The Investment Manager, visibly flustered, hastily explained the cause.

[Apple just released their earnings report, and it’s a massive earnings shock—far worse than market expectations.]
“How bad are we talking about?!”
[Everyone knew Apple’s operations were struggling and losses were inevitable, but this quarter they reported a loss of 74 million dollars—far exceeding the market’s expected 68 million.]

A loss of 6 million dollars more than anticipated made Milburn involuntarily groan into the receiver.

[The expanded losses were shocking enough, but then they announced layoffs of 1,300 employees—7.4% of their entire workforce—to cut costs, which only accelerated the stock decline.]
“….”
[With severance payments and compensation for the layoffs, investors are projecting at least an additional 125 million dollars in losses next quarter, so they’ve dumped Apple stock.]

Milburn crumpled the Wall Street Journal on his desk in frustration.

“Yes, their earnings came in terribly, and Apple’s been losing market share to competitors like IBM and HP for a while now—a company that’s been dying. And because Apple had an earnings shock, the market goes into complete chaos. Right now!”
[With investment sentiment already weakened by the shutdown, and given that major companies’ earnings have been falling short of expectations lately despite recent stock gains, there was considerable anxiety. Now that Apple’s earnings have actually come in this badly, investors are panicking and rushing to sell their positions to lock in profits.]
“Damn it!”

Milburn cursed, thinking he would have made the same decision in their position.

[The selling pressure keeps mounting—the situation doesn’t look good. What should we do about the S&P 500 futures we bought?]

Miller held the receiver to his ear, staring at the monitor while clenching his lower lip tightly.
Part of him wanted to hold the position as it was, but even he could see that the index graph was plummeting vertically—something far from ordinary.
There was a wager with Seok-won on the line, but he couldn’t allow a mere bet to destroy the fund’s returns, so Miller clicked his tongue and snapped irritably into the phone.

“Liquidate everything right now!”
[Understood.]

Hearing the immediate response come through—perhaps because he was worried I might hold on longer—Miller slammed the receiver down hard enough to break it.
Then, watching the market window where sell orders continued to pour in relentlessly, I muttered under my breath.

“Surely a 50-point crash won’t happen in a single day….”

Such a massive plunge was something that happened only once a year at most, so while I told myself it wouldn’t occur, anxiety deepened across Miller’s face as I gazed at the S&P 500 index.

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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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