The Calculation of Trust

The stock market was hurtling toward the end of days.

A miracle was unfolding.

It was news that should have been cause for celebration, of course.

Investors were, if anything, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bewildered.

There was no reason for it to rise.

America's external situation had reached rock bottom. Everything people had been half-doubting all this time was becoming reality.

The debt-ceiling negotiations had failed, and the US government had shut down. The Fed's rate-hike stance remained hawkish as ever. By every measure, the economy collapsing was the correct outcome.

And yet the market was rebounding. It was a phenomenon that defied all understanding. Famous analysts said the same. Masses of investors had piled into short bets—

—and the index climbed as if laughing at them. After bottoming at 6,300, the Nasdaq had been on a daily upward tear.

Nothing had been resolved. Rates were still rising. The US shutdown had not been lifted. And yet stock prices climbed—as if deliberately ignoring every piece of bad news the world could throw at them.

The short-sellers had every right to be speechless. No good news, and prices only rose. They doubled down on their conviction and diamond-handed even harder. The long decline had been more than enough to forge confirmation bias.

The fact that they had been wrong. Just as they had believed when prices fell, they now wavered when prices rose. Community sentiment shifted. And in inverse proportion to Doctor Doom's falling reputation, someone else had to rise.

"Thank you so much for the 100,000-won donation! You've been through a lot—I hope things turn around for you from here."

LoyalDickhead has been muted once.

Someone new was inevitably going to rise. Sora could feel that her streams had gotten busier lately—in a good way. Investors who marveled that her calls had been right were seeking her out.

"I've seen that movie too. But I think getting too immersed in the protagonist's point of view is dangerous."

Her streams felt approachable, too. Completely different from the stiff, boring experts. Young. Stunning looks. And still no shortage of expertise.

"There was someone who went long—the opposite of the protagonist. In the movie he gets mocked and goes under, but in real life he kept going long and grew his assets to ten trillion. A legendary investor."

Sora's stream was drawing more attention than ever before. The rising market had given her wings—but.

This isn't easy.

Sora couldn't help feeling a great many things. In the end she had simply been right. The US market. No—politics and finance. There was still so much she didn't know. She must never grow arrogant. Spouting off as if she understood everything was dangerous.

Long or short, it made no difference. Nothing was more dangerous than accepting something without doubt.

And the analysts who egg that on, too.

She herself had nearly fallen for it. The ten-year financial-crisis cycle theory certainly sounded plausible. But peel it open carefully and the situations then and now were different. Just like The Big Short. There were details you only learned by actually investigating.

She swallowed hard.

How dangerous it was to get swept along without knowing those details—she had felt it through the entire decline. Surface-level knowledge was not enough. She had come to understand responsibility and weight.

"Yes, it's fine. I think this is a whore-bluff dip."

Now she could speak with conviction.

US investing. A fact that surprisingly many investors still didn't know.

There's no such thing as 'always' in this world.

In the end it had simply risen. It had been built by stepping over the risk called uncertainty.

Every time the market fell, they printed money. For the politicians' own greed. Future risk? They prioritized immediate approval ratings far above that.

"They're actually reaching a deal?"

"Of course."

"I didn't think Trump would back down even one step……"

That was the proper attitude for investing in the world's strongest nation. No matter what crisis arrived, it could be overcome.

They'll do something. It's America.

Roughly that mindset. The essence of modern investing was betting on America's power and the incompetence of its politicians.

Sora had come to understand a little of it herself. The put options had become worthless scraps of paper, but the call options were working overtime as the golden child.

"So this is why people do options."

"You like it?"

"Well, of course it feels good, but I don't think I can be purely happy about it."

Even so, her mood was complicated. She knew exactly why her thinking had been able to land correctly. This money had not been easy to earn. There was a reason even the truly ancient investors—not just regular old fogeys, but the ones living day to day—invested so conservatively.

Warren Buffett, Charlie Munger—those guys are in their nineties.

America always goes up and to the right? These were people who had learned that wasn't true not from history books, but from experience. They had been burned, so they were careful. Anything at all could happen in the stock market. Investors simply adapted.

Thrust.

Sora had adapted too. Even when his cock shoved deep into her insides, she no longer startled—she just clenched down hard around it.

"If oppa felt like it, I could make you squirt all over the place. I'm going easy on you. Got it?"

"Ah—black-cock bull candle just dropped!"

"……"

As if craving more, Sora's pussy fluttered and clenched. She sucked him in all the way to the root. It was as if she were reacting to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Nasdaq's minute chart. The moment the regular session opened at 11:30, a massive green candle slammed onto the screen.

"You like black-cock bull candles that much?"

"Of course I do."

"You little pervert."

"♡"

The rush of growing profits. The filthy thrill of doing it in a chair. Adrenaline poured out at its absolute peak.

Just a little thrusting and she's already squirting like this.

He rubbed her clit at the same time. With the appearance of the horse-cock bull candle, Sora's body burned hot.

"Ah—aah!"

She came. Juice sprayed hard enough to soak not only the monitor but the keyboard on the desk in front of her.

"You love black-cock horse-cock that much, huh? Huh?"

"Don't tell me you're jealous?"

"Because you're flopping around like that."

"But nothing else can come in here except oppa's. No matter how big it is—mmph!"

Without a shred of shame she squeezed down tight, then pressed her lips to his and hugged him with a lovable face.

If the Fed ever went to zero rates she'd squirt herself empty.

Any investor was hardwired to want even bigger green candles. Sora's body had become an investor's body. The uptrend would continue for a while. Expectation becoming reality only fanned investment psychology higher.

Even though nothing's actually been solved.

Final passage of the debt-ceiling deal was still a long way off. The stock market merely performed its pre-reflection. It ran six months ahead of the real economy. Exploiting that gap was also part of an investor's job.