1988 - First Quarter (9)
1988 - First Quarter (9)
March 17, 1988.
"Advisor-nim?"
David tilted his head.
Was it because my condition looked strange?
"Don't worry about it."
After accumulating volume over the past seven days, we hadn't built any positions beyond that.
We couldn't even think about building more; with prices slightly rising, we had to focus on managing margin calls.
Ultimately, nothing happened.
For days, the staff spent their time staring at numbers, desperately performing rain rituals.
It wasn't a joke; it was something akin to a real rain ritual.
Outside, Wall Street might appear to operate with cold rationality and analytical prowess, but nowhere is as obsessed with superstition and occult practices as here.
They're not Major League pitchers, but filled with all sorts of routines?
After spending every day like that, it's natural to want to cling to something.
I wasn't much different from them before my regression, so I didn't stop them.
And today, the 17th.
I went to EXE and made a grand announcement to the staff.
"Today, we resume pyramid-ing."
"......Ugh."
"Understood......"
Physically, the first day was the hardest, but mentally, these past few days were tougher.
The staff responded weakly, completely worn out.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
Ara looked at me with worried eyes.
She probably thinks I'm hurting somewhere.
It wouldn't be wrong to say I'm actually hurting.
'This is driving me crazy.'
I glanced sideways and examined my Status Window.
───────────
< Traits >
[A-0 Gene]
[Sensory: 17 hours 27 minutes]
───────────
The new trait < Sensory >, obtained by spinning the roulette.
The effect was tremendous.
It felt like becoming a superhuman seen in movies.
Not just the five senses, but even that hard-to-pin-down sixth sense was perceptible.
The side effects were similarly intense.
Every part—eyes, nose, mouth, skin—hurt terribly.
After suffering for several hours, I'd gotten somewhat accustomed, but countless pieces of information were still piercing my head.
"David. Did the bullets arrive?"
"Yes. Ten million dollars have been deposited."
Matias sent ten million dollars borrowed from Switzerland.
He must have struggled quite a bit.
Since it was a credit loan, not collateral.
Moreover, in grain commodity call options, we're not even seeing drought; we're just continuously losing valuation, so his mental distress must be immense.
Yet, seeing he managed to pull in another ten million dollars, it seems he's definitely confirmed the Fate Community position.
Approximately fifty million dollars in gold plus this ten million dollars.
A massive leverage of sixty million dollars in loans alone.
We reduced the debt ratio from 500% to 400%, but then swapped it all back into loans, so it's understandable he's upset.
But Matias will have to get used to it too.
Originally, insane debt ratios are standard in this field.
Ring-ring-ring!
"Ugh!"
Ziiing!
As the opening bell rang, a tremendous high-frequency sound stabbed my ears.
"Opening price 93'08!"
But my sharpened senses, enough to ignore the auditory pain, stabbed me.
Today is the best, final timing to enter U.S. bond futures.
All the data I have says so.
The chart in the Status Window shows a sideways movement, then a full-scale downtrend starting tomorrow.
My sixth sense, felt through < Sensory >, indicates today's sideways movement amplitude is almost negligible.
Originally, I planned to start today and gradually enter following the downtrend.
But after acquiring Sensory, my thoughts changed.
Today, we finalize all positions and watch the downtrend.
In other words.
Today, we expose our positions and reveal our presence to Wall Street.
Put differently.
It's debut day.
"07, 08, 07. Sideways market start!"
"The pit atmosphere is also a battle of wits!"
"The Advisor was right!"
Today our goal is singular.
Securing maximum volume without causing price movement.
"Don't worry about net equity or such. All accounts move together. Sell 3 contracts at 8."
"Sell 3 at 8 ticks!"
"Copy!"
"Working!"
"Yes. Correct. 8 ticks, 1 contract. Okay. Done. Wait a moment. Add 2 contracts."
At my words, the staff began moving seamlessly.
"Short-term bonds?"
"Hard to tell. They rose 0.03%, but whether to consider that a rise or just a momentary spread fluctuation..."
"Got it. Keep tracking."
According to my prediction, short-term bonds will start moving gradually today.
By tomorrow, the Federal Reserve's ultra-short-term bonds will be thrown out enough for everyone to notice.
"Contract execution completed."
"Wait a moment. About 3 minutes."
"Understood."
I stared piercingly at the terminal monitor.
Green numbers packed densely, enough to strain the eyes.
Having overly good vision has its downsides too.
'No price change.'
The status board appearing after a delay showed no fluctuations.
Price is in a battle of wits situation, but liquidity itself is smooth.
If we throw out supply, market makers absorb it.
That conclusion was drawn.
"Again, sell 5 contracts at 8."
"Sell 5 at 8 ticks!"
This time, 5 contracts.
A negligible quantity in front of the vast ocean of U.S. bonds.
Of course, it has no impact.
However, if unluckily caught in a blank quote gap, it becomes slightly troublesome.
Because it can stimulate the price in that brief moment.
That's why we throw small contracts.
To reduce exposure and target only timing that avoids stimulation.
"7, no, 8,9,8! Seems substantial liquidity has attached!"
"Volume?"
"Feels like at least 5,000 contracts!"
5,000 contracts.
I don't really know what that means.
If the broker felt that way, we can interpret that the pit's heat has risen to that level.
"Sell 100 at 12, 50 at 11, 40 at 10, 30 at 9, 10 at 8. Mix the banks."
"Understood."
About 5 minutes later.
"Execution completed at 8,9 ticks!"
"Orders above that?"
"None."
"None executed......"
No intention to push to 10.
Even if they push, it doesn't matter.
Let's set 10 as the line for now.
"Sell 20 contracts at 9 ticks."
"Sell 20 at 9 ticks!"
Orders went out again.
And were executed quickly this time too.
Thus, for some time, we secured short positions moving between the 8 and 9 lines.
"Have this while you work."
Ara offered a sandwich.
Has time passed that much already?
I took the sandwich and put it in my mouth.
'Salty.'
America originally uses a lot of salt, but maybe due to heightened taste senses, today it's especially salty.
Having a sensitive tongue doesn't necessarily make you a great gourmet.
'Secured about 1,000 contracts.'
I thought while fueling my mouth.
The market might start suspecting our presence soon.
Considering market depth, they'd likely notice around 1,200 to 1,500.
'What to do......'
Two choices.
First, continue iceberg accumulation little by little.
In this case, we reduce volume today and must accumulate volume possibly until tomorrow or the day after.
But our presence would be revealed, though we'd receive less scrutiny.
Second, place large orders in a short time and swallow them in one breath.
In this case, margin calls by tomorrow morning are almost certain.
Hyenas trying to devour us would definitely appear.
'Safety-wise, the first. Maximizing profit, the second.'
I took out a cigarette and lit it.
Not exactly due to nicotine deficiency, but whenever troubled, my body automatically bites a cigarette.
A habit accumulated over decades, or rather a routine.
Click. Sizzle-.
Ara lit the cigarette with a familiar hand.
"Inhale-. Exhale-."
The maximized senses filled my nose with a more disgusting smell than usual.
"Ara."
"Yes."
I embraced Ara.
"Ugh-."
As much as my senses have heightened, Ara's detox effect seems better.
Though other sensations are slowly rising from my lower abdomen.
We'll handle that at night.
With my head clearing, the choice I must make became clearly visible.
"David."
"Yes. Advisor-nim."
"100 contracts at 8."
"8 ticks......! Wait, 100 contracts?"
"Yes."
We are operating through 11 banks total.
Counting brokers would increase it, but anyway.
100 contracts means throwing 1,100 contracts into the market at once.
The contracts we've executed so far, 3~10 each, mean we've placed orders about ten times that amount.
"That's, a bit risky, isn't it?"
"I know. That much is needed to use as bait. Throw it."
"......Understood. 8 ticks! 100 sell!"
"Co, copy!"
"DK! 100 correct?"
"Yes! 100 sell!"
"Umm-. Understood."
The staff seemed momentarily panicked, then began making calls here and there to place orders.
"Ugh......"
Ara's voice sounded, trying to endure a groan somehow.
Was she enduring it even normally?
Or did I unknowingly apply too much force?
I don't know.
Since I was somewhat tense, I might have gripped too hard.
"David. Keep constant connection with the floor."
"Understood. Hey! Brook! Don't disconnect, keep it maintained!"
"Exhale-."
After emitting the last cigarette smoke, I rubbed the filter against the ashtray and extinguished it.
"Remaining amount?"
"6.24 million dollars."
"Including available profit?"
"Yes."
"Alright."
Current price is $3,145 per contract.
We can hold about 1,980 more contracts.
'Where should I set the high point?'
Current price is 93'08.
How high will they push to devour us?
"72 executed!"
"34 executed!"
"100 executed!"
"66 executed!"
"Eh? Execution completed!"
"This side also execution finished!"
"Working end!"
"10 ticks! 17, 20! Price sharply rising!"
As expected.
Someone started accepting all our orders to devour us and pushing upward.
Who it is, I don't know.
Could be a hedge fund, or an IB's prop trading desk.
"Breakthrough 94'00! Continues rising!"
"Advisor-nim. What should we do?"
"Wait a bit more."
"Holding!"
The staff swallowed dry saliva.
Seems the experiences over the past few days are vividly resurfacing?
Some humans are tearing their hair out.
"Ugh-!"
"Sorry. Did it hurt?"
"Ah, no. It's okay."
While gripping Ara's chest, the price continued to rise.
"Breakthrough 95'00!"
"Should we start entering gradually?"
"No."
Logically, clearly this is the timing.
But my sixth sense says it's too early.
Price can rise further.
'I don't understand.'
Too expensive as a cost to hit us and force us to spit out supply.
Clearly 95 is the maximum line.
Some event I don't know about must be happening in the pit.
We definitely pulled some trigger.
Probably stimulated the large IB's and insurers engaged in the battle of wits.
But there's no way to know immediately.
I can only move trusting my senses.
"95'22!"
"David. Sell all below 22 ticks."
"Understood. Under 22! Empty the Clip!"
"Great Swiss copy!"
"Barclays working!"
While everyone was busy moving like that.
I blankly stared at the monitor.
"What's wrong?"
"......Haha-."
I laughed.
Not because U.S. bonds moved.
[U.S. Weather Service adjusts April-May precipitation probability below 10%! Severe drought expected in Midwest!]
As if it's fine to crash into U.S. bonds, a breaking news came at a perfect timing.