1988 - Preparation
1988 - Preparation
The next day, January 3, 1988.
"Mister Kim!"
"Hey, Jessie."
I ran into Jessie on my way out.
"Where are you going?"
"Goodman."
"?!"
"I didn't take any drugs."
"I didn't say anything."
"You said it with your face."
Is it really that surprising that I'm going to a department store?
......Well, it actually is.
For a resident of East Harlem to say they're going to Bergdorf Goodman, a high-end department store, means one of two things.
They're going to rob it.
Or they've sold all their drugs.
Harlem was that rough of a neighborhood at this time.
"No! Thinking about it, that's unfair. He could be going there to work."
"Kim? At Goodman?"
"......Hmm. They wouldn't hire an Asian, right? As expected?"
"He might be able to work in the food court or the clothing repair shop. Ah, does Goodman even have those? I've never been to Goodman either."
This is America!
That's a fact-violence, no, that's racism!
"I'm going to buy clothes. I figured I should have at least one proper suit."
"Well. The suit you wore last time was pretty tacky."
"Shut up."
It's clothes I don't even remember.
Probably something I bought in high school.
"But Goodman, not Macy's? Are you sure?"
I just shrugged my shoulders.
I'd put most of the money in other storage, but I had brought 30,000 dollars separately.
"Drugs......."
"I said no. I didn't take, shoot, or sell any."
Jessie blinked her eyes, throwing a silent question: 'Then where did the money come from?'
"I made it from a good investment."
"Hmm."
Damn.
She doesn't believe me.
To be honest, since I did bring stolen goods, I feel a bit guilty for no reason.
"I'm going."
I scratched my head and went outside.
In Harlem, you have to move a bit earlier than your expected time.
Yellow cabs don't come above 96th Street.
But going into the 103rd Street station to take the subway is terrifyingly scary.
What choice do I have.
I have no choice but to walk through the slightly safer streets.
It's a neighborhood where people live, so during broad daylight, it's passable.
Kids are running around playing on the streets and all.
Very, very occasionally, gangs do spray bullets with Uzis, though.
Living as a Korean in New York during this period, you can have some weirdly unsettling experiences.
"Welcome. Sir."
Clearly treated like a yellow monkey outside, but treated as a top customer in a high-end department store.
"Okyakusama, osagashi no mono wa arimasu ka?"
(Customer, is there something you are looking for?)
A shopper confidently speaking to you in Japanese out of nowhere.
"Tsk. So tacky."
People looking at you with dissatisfaction, as if you've stolen something.
Each one was not exactly a pleasant experience.
Of course, from my perspective, knowing the future, it's just something to scoff at.
Ignoring those gazes, I headed to my destination.
"Welcome. Do you have a specific model in mind?"
"Three-button charcoal gray. Can I see a set including shoes, tie, belt, hanger chief, and wallet?"
"Of course."
To be honest, I don't really prefer suits that much.
But the only financier who can make deals on Wall Street without a suit is just one person, Warren Buffett.
There's a future internet story like that, isn't there.
That wearing a tracksuit and slippers to a store is a sign of a true rich person.
That doesn't work on Wall Street.
Even if you bring millions of dollars, they'd pawn you off to a junior?
To receive customer treatment, appearance takes priority over money.
I still don't know why they do that.
Even 70 years later, Wall Street was still the same.
The reason I came to Brioni instead of Armani is also connected to that point.
Should I say the image is that if you're a Wall Street trader, it's Armani, if you're an investor, it's Brioni?
'Someday, without fail, I too must escape from these damn suits like Buffett.'
I wouldn't go as far as fluttering nationalistic pride and wearing a modified hanbok to a bank, but at least I want to make my attire meaningless.
"How about this set?"
The shoppers skillfully combined a suit set and presented it before me.
Not bad.
A balance that's neither excessive nor tacky.
A combination perfectly suited for a newly socialized Japanese land-rich young master.
I wish this thought was just paranoia, but it's probably close to the truth.
"Let's change the tie and belt. For shoes, single monk straps would be better than Oxfords."
"Would you prefer something more casual?"
"Yes. Being too formal is uncomfortable too."
"Understood."
There was no need to keep changing things annoyingly.
Just telling them my preferences moderately, and they'd match it sensibly on their own—truly, the shoppers of a high-class department store.
"......Wow......."
"There, it suits you very well."
Seeing me after changing clothes and even finishing my styling by applying pomade as a bonus, the shoppers opened their mouths in admiration.
Adding a bit of self-praise, I'd often seen women make that expression even before the regression.
My looks might be slightly inferior to top-tier celebrities, but I'm better at tax evasion.......
No, my looks are on that level.
"How is it? Any discomfort?"
"None. I'll wear it as is."
I took out fifty 100-dollar bills from my wallet and put them in the new wallet.
Looks that say, 'Not a card, but insisting on cash?' pour out, but it's fine.
Nihonjin wa cash ga suki desu.
(Japanese people like cash.)
"That will be 2,650 dollars."
I gave 27 hundred-dollar bills and received my change along with three business cards.
Handing over the business cards held with both hands while slightly bowing the upper body—typical Japanese style.
See, it's not paranoia.
But why three business cards?
"Please call anytime if there's any discomfort or anything you need. I'm Catherine."
"I'm Cindy."
"I'm Linda. It's fine to call even after work hours."
A green light, huh.
But all three aren't really my type.
And I don't even know if I'll come back or not.
Once time passes, I'll get a bespoke one.
"Sure."
I put the business cards away and clicked my tongue inwardly.
Their positions printed on the cards were all PS.
Why are three Personal Shoppers who only manage VIPs attached to me?
Is this Nihonjin power?
It's newly frightening. Japan.
Just how much of the future generation's money did you suck up?
After getting the suit.
Instead of leaving the department store, I went up one more floor.
The women's clothing section.
Thinking of buying a coat or something as a gift for Jessie.
It's not because I have ulterior motives.
......Ulterior?
No! That's not racism!
Jessie is a high school student to begin with.
Should I say it's just because of a debt of conscience?
Among the Ponzi scheme victims made up of Koreans, there were two Black people mixed in.
There are many points where it's unfair to say it's my fault.
I was merely the operator of a dummy private equity fund for deception, not a recruiter.
I just didn't know they'd brag about it as a surprise gift after dumping their investment money.
Especially when I was collecting evidence of the Ponzi scheme.
'Well, it's something that doesn't exist now.'
Why does a money-crazed Wall Street bastard have such lukewarm thoughts, you ask?
Actually, all us Wall Street bastards are like that.
Neither utterly wicked villains nor morally upright good people—just awkward, in-between humans.
Humans consumed by greed who hypnotize themselves with 'Hmph! Humans are inherently selfish!' or who reflect with 'Ah! What have I done!' upon seeing the world go to shit.
Of course, that's just in thought.
A few hours after reflecting, they repeat the same actions again.
So, my current act of choosing a coat for Jessie is also nothing more than a commonplace self-consolation of a Wall Street bastard.
That famous widow-maker also donates diligently, and that sage from somewhere who sings the song of tax increases in interviews also diligently tries not to pay taxes, right?
It's just like that.
"How much?"
"312 dollars."
"I'll take it."
I can get coins as a bonus too.
The world says.
That the inside is more important than the outside.
"I'd like to have a leisurely meal, is that possible?"
"Of course."
"Thank you. I have a lot to think about."
But I think the distinction is meaningless.
Nothing is unimportant.
Money, appearance, heart.
Even if I had money, if I weren't dressed properly, I wouldn't have been able to get a seat without a reservation.
Even if my appearance were fine, if I lacked manners, the server would have just dealt with me appropriately.
Especially in fine dining like this.
One could say it's because I came carrying a bunch of Bergdorf Goodman shopping bags, but let's not say such mean things.
"Your aperitif."
I moistened my mouth with light champagne and opened my Status Window.
───────────
<Memory Palace>
[1988 Event 1] : 1K
[Nikkei 225]
[1988 Event 3] : 5K
.
.
.
Coins Held : 3.2K
───────────
'Open Event 1.'
I thought about collecting more coins, but then shook my head and opened the first hint.
There was a limit to how many coins I could collect immediately anyway.
The money I could put into an account was about 3,000 dollars calculated as a safe bet, and the money I could use was around 6~7,000 dollars.
Money laundering was ultimately essential, and to launder money myself, I'd have to get a pilot's license first.
No matter how fast, it would take at least a month.
And entrusting it to a money laundering service wouldn't speed things up either.
It would only get later, if anything.
Opening the Event was the most efficient choice.
───────────
[Sterling Drug M&A;]
───────────
'......Sterling Drug?'
As expected, the hint was extremely lacking in sincerity.
Just a company name and that's it.
However, just because it lacked sincerity doesn't mean it lacked meaning.
'A merger and acquisition?'
88 is the peak period for LBOs and M&As.
There will be countless companies undergoing M&A just this year alone.
A period when numerous companies I don't know are eating and being eaten, changing their names.
But among those disappearing companies, Sterling Drug remained vividly in my memory.
'This is Sodak, isn't it?'
Definitely.
Because Sodak was the first stock I bought when I operated the private equity fund!
'Thinking about it, it's this month?'
Timing-wise, mid-January?
Or I bought at the end of January and got burned badly.
I remember buying thinking Sodak's stock price would V-shaped rebound, but instead the selling pressure intensified and I sold out in a cold sweat.
'Then I just need to short Sodak....... Wait, Sterling Drug is still a listed stock?!'
The moment I realized that fact, I struggled to suppress the cheer that threatened to burst out.
Currently, Sodak hasn't announced the acquisition.
That means Sterling Drug is at its lowest price right now!
How much did it rise in just a month?
30%? 40%?
A stock with profits confirmed the moment you buy it.
I feel something hot inside.
I downed the cold champagne in one gulp.
"......Whew-."
The carbonation hit my throat, cooling the hot excitement.
It was the best aperitif.