Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Earning Pocket Money (4)
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After returning from my visit to Executive Director Ha Joo-seong, I lay on the fluffy bed to soothe my tired body from wandering around outside, munching on snacks.
Even though I was dropping crumbs all over the bed...
Yeah. Not my problem.
Lee Si-hyeon, my secretary-slash-bodyguard-slash-errand girl-slash-maid, would clean it up.
"Miss, um... I have a question."
Lee Si-hyeon stared piercingly at my snack-covered hands for some reason before cautiously glancing at me and asking. It must be a bit rude of a question.
I wiped my hands on the blanket and replied.
"Sure. Go ahead."
"Why did you only invest 100 million won? If it was such a sure thing, you could've borrowed money or liquidated assets to invest more. Even just the 50 million won you gave me..."
"Ah, you wanted to invest too?"
She waved her hands frantically, denying it.
"N-no, not at all. How could I... W-well, if you say it's okay, miss. Excluding what I need to spend, maybe 40 million won or so..."
I chuckled and shook my head.
"Come on, like I'd complain about that. It'd be good for me if you made good money. I was just trying to earn some pocket change anyway."
"Then..."
Poor Si-hyeon, who was hoping for a 100x asset event, but sorry, all seats are taken.
"It'd be tough, though. This is a special case, and 100 million won is the max I figured. I told you, right? Derivatives are a zero-sum game."
Someone wins, someone loses.
If I win 10 billion won, someone loses 10 billion won.
And that someone will be the most promising and aggressive player on Wall Street right now.
"10 billion won is fine. Losses aren't all on one side anyway, and they make aggressive investments too, so they can take hits like that occasionally."
But anything more is dangerous.
The moment it goes from 'occasional loss' to 'catastrophic loss', that's when they'll start resenting me.
Especially since it's an OTC trade, my info and position are blatantly exposed. They'll pick me out to hate instead of blaming their luck.
Well, I know. It's a contract. They signed it knowing this, so no reason to rage.
But human hearts don't work that cleanly. Even if they don't show it, it'll linger in a corner of their mind.
Am I crazy enough to make an enemy of a Wall Street fund manager?
Remember: the world isn't all about money.
"Ah..."
Lee Si-hyeon looked a bit disappointed but seemed to understand, as you'd expect from someone smart.
...And yeah, I didn't say it, but there's one more thing I kept hidden.
'A well-fed hunting dog gets lazy.'
The reward can't be too small, but not too big either. Our relationship isn't that close yet—just a couple years of acquaintance.
I decided to nudge her so she wouldn't miss it.
"If I scraped together all my assets for around 10 billion won, I'd win hundreds of billions, maybe not a trillion, but... who would acknowledge that?"
"A-acknowledge?"
"Forgot? The account isn't mine. It's Grandfather's. No one's handing that much cash to an 8-year-old kid. Not even America."
Money only means something if you have the power to protect it.
"I don't know much, but wouldn't the FBI or someone come ransack it? A hitman sent by someone could wipe it out, or they could exploit the OTC loophole and just not pay."
Sounds fake, but after 9/11, something similar happened. The US government investigated people who made big option gains.
Especially Asians or Arabs—people of color got scrutinized hard, and some innocents got wrongly persecuted.
"...They could refuse to pay? It's a trade."
Ah, she's innocent. Institutions pull plugs on retail buy buttons during their shorts and ghost. Or throw financial crisis parties after causing one.
"You could've asked Executive Director Ha Joo-seong; he'd explain. That's why he came all this way."
"..."
I shrugged at her speechless expression.
"Money's easier to handle when it's small. No one would take that volume anyway, so it's a moot point. The derivatives market's still small."
The world's richest super-rich have surprisingly low returns. Like a snowball too big to roll alone, money gets hard to manage.
"Ah, yes. I understand."
Lee Si-hyeon seemed overly tense from the sudden 10 billion won talk. Plenty of time till expiration, no need to stress yet.
"Right now, it's just seasoning. The real play starts in a month, when we buy the options. Relax."
She finally let out a small sigh.
"Ahh, right. Sorry, I got too worked up..."
"No need to overthink. I told you—pocket money."
I grinned as I said it.
Just a fun night at a casino that caters to me.
No need to sweat complex math here.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ September 18, 1985. Wall Street.
Stanley Miller was racking his brains in the Dreyfus Fund office where he worked.
"Damn it. Sell this or not?"
Normally, no reason to hesitate. The exchange rate shift was visible, and he'd set wide spreads on barriers from 210 to 230 yen in 5-yen increments.
But someone wanted to buy the 215-yen barrier specifically.
'Sigh... Just sell it and be done.'
Only $50,000...
Not his main position anyway. FX options were a drop in the bucket compared to core assets, and even a 100x win would be just millions.
Focus on the main fund handling billions. Small wins don't show much relative to effort.
Triple Witching Day was in two days. Obsess over millions and risk losing tens of millions.
After agonizing, he clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Tch. Why am I even stressing."
Not my money anyway. Just sell.
He was already grumpy about the fund's skimpy pay. After all I'd done, that's all they give?
-Click.
Miller scowled and picked up the phone to the Eastern fund manager he'd met once.
[Oh, Mr. Miller. Decided?]
"Yeah."
What a guy he didn't like.
No human heart—stabs you with a knife then calmly suggests future collaboration.
Weirder, he'd team up post-loss even with those who hurt him. Wall Street's cold-bloods peel to reveal emotions underneath.
A rational human classical economists would love.
Though like those theories, he got pushed from Tokyo back to his homeland...
Proves I was right. The world can't be reduced to equations.
Brimming with confidence, Miller accepted the offer.
"Fine. Selling the option like you said. Don't wanna headache over trivia now."
[Trivia...? Haha, sure. Pocket change to Dreyfus Fund's manager.]
Sounded provocative, but flattery maybe.
"Right. Pathetic if I botch Triple Witching chasing pocket change. Ha, rumors would kill my career."
Money's value varies by person.
Hundreds of millions to poor-born Si-hyeon? Unimaginable fortune.
Big for ex-hotshot Ha Joo-seong.
But to Wall Street's genius fund manager, heart of finance capital...
Just pocket change. Obsess and risk bigger losses.
The legend who'd later short the pound, break the Bank of England, and doom UK's Euro entry—the living money machine—made his rational call. ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Know who wins a chicken game?"
"Hmm... the fearless one?"
"If both are fearless?"
What if both chicken players are utterly fearless lunatics.
"..."
"The one with less to lose wins."
So, I couldn't lose this game.