The Key
John D. Rockefeller.
He is a man who amassed so much wealth that if you didn't know his name in this era, you could confidently say you weren't an American. He was a titan of industry and a billionaire.
I had heard he was retired and only focused on running his foundation, but I never dreamed I would meet him in Florida.
"Actually, I heard that old man was a regular here, so I decided to come by."
It was then that my father-in-law approached and whispered in a low voice.
"Pardon?"
"What better sight is there than seeing the legendary Oil King in the flesh? Well, at this golf course, he’s just another customer playing a round, that’s all."
"Boss?"
As my father-in-law confidently strode toward the elderly Rockefeller, I hurriedly followed behind.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rockefeller! I am Al Capone from Chicago!"
...As expected of my father-in-law.
His confidence is truly second to none on this planet.
I inwardly clicked my tongue at the sight of my father-in-law addressing the giant who dominated the American economy as if he were just some neighborhood grandpa.
However.
"Nice to meet you."
That was the extent of Rockefeller's reaction to my father-in-law's spirited greeting.
The old man barely acknowledged the greeting, turned his head, and resumed talking with his party.
Honestly, it wasn't strange, as my father-in-law wasn't exactly on the same level as Rockefeller, but still.
"Ahem, ahem. The old man must have bad hearing. Shall we go and play?"
"Yes, Boss."
"Once you learn from me today, you'll at least grasp the basics of golf, so make sure you pay attention."
Having been snubbed by the old man, my father-in-law cleared his throat with an awkward expression and led me onto the golf course.
"Lee, golf is all about guts! You see this ball?"
"Yes, Boss."
"Just think of it as those damn... no, as the dogs from the IRS. And then... smash it to pieces!"
Whoosh!
No sooner had he spoken than the golf club in my father-in-law's grip was swung with a terrifying whistle.
Immediately after.
Thwack!
The mercilessly swung club sent the ball, the pin, and even the grass and dirt beneath it flying into the distance.
Soon, the golf ball curved sharply to the left like a wicked pitch in a baseball game, flying deep into the dense forest bordering the edge of the fairway.
...I don't think the golf I watched on TV in my past life was like this?
"Tsk, the wind must have been bad. Still, it traveled quite a distance."
"I'll go fetch it!"
While my father-in-law clicked his tongue, the caddy standing behind us quickly ran toward the ball.
"See that, Lee? Golf requires power. Even if the direction is a bit off, it's good as long as it goes far."
Whoosh!
Even while the caddy was running into the forest to find the ball, my father-in-law kept swinging his club and boasting.
Before long.
"Mr. Capone, I found it!"
The caddy who had run into the woods came back out and waved his hand.
The problem was that in his hand, he held the golf ball my father-in-law had just sent flying into the forest.
"I found it here! Luckily, it was at the edge of the forest!"
"...Boss, is it okay to bring that back?"
"Normally it wouldn't be, but there isn't much difference between in front of the forest and outside of it, so it's fine, it's fine."
It clearly looked like the ball had gone deep into the woods... or hadn't it?
"Now, it's your turn. Put some power into your waist and swing with all your might!"
Before I could even question my father-in-law's Chicago-style golf, I had to stand in front of the prepared golf ball.
This... I just have to swing, right?
First, focus.
One, two, three!
Whoosh!
Timing it perfectly, I swung the golf club with all my might, just as my father-in-law had taught me.
In the end, the club sent a transparent golf ball, which had been sitting about a span away from the white golf ball, flying into the distance.
It was a whiff.
"Lee, you have to look at the ball! Does putting power into it really matter if you miss?"
"I'll try again."
Whoosh!
At my father-in-law's scoffing laugh, I nodded and focused on the ball once more, swinging the club with all my strength.
Of course, the head of the club never touched the ball.
"Lee, your body must have stiffened from sitting at a desk all day? Your athletic ability is truly pathetic."
"Haha......."
It's my first time doing this in my life; if I could hit this, wouldn't I be in the Major Leagues instead of running a laundry business?
Since I couldn't say that out loud, I laughed it off and attempted a third swing.
Tap!
Fortunately, this time I succeeded in hitting the ball.
Even though it wasn't a clean hit and didn't make it to the fairway, it was a success.
And then.
"Huh?"
The caddy, having received a signal from my father-in-law, ran forward, surreptitiously nudged the ball with his foot into the fairway, and returned with an indifferent expression.
"Well done, Lee! Once you hit it, the rest takes care of itself!"
"...Boss?"
"Why, did something happen?"
Is this... golf?
It was then, as my father-in-law was nonchalantly shattering my common sense regarding golf, that a voice spoke up.
"You're playing an interesting game of golf."
Recognizing the old man's voice, my father-in-law and I turned our heads simultaneously.
There, Mr. Rockefeller, whom my father-in-law had greeted earlier, was looking at us while holding a golf club.
"Mr. Rockefeller, we meet again!"
"You two were taking so long, so I was waiting. More importantly......."
As he looked at my father-in-law, who was greeting him as warmly as before, the old man Rockefeller's golf club pointed at me.
"That young man doesn't seem to know how to swing yet, but wouldn't it be hard to learn properly if you start by teaching him such bad habits?"
"Ahem, ahem. To learn a sport, isn't it important to find the fun in it first? That's why I was just adding a little more fun to golf for this friend here, hahahat."
Perhaps it was because his secret, peerless martial art of Chicago-style golf had been discovered by an outsider.
At Rockefeller's question, my father-in-law made excuses while clearing his throat.
"I see."
However, Rockefeller ended with that short reply and turned his head toward me.
"Young man, is this your first time playing golf?"
"That is correct, Mr. Rockefeller."
When I answered politely, the old man Rockefeller nodded and continued.
"Your physique is more similar to mine than that fellow's, so how about learning my way for a change?"
"Pardon?"
"Say, could I borrow this friend for a moment?"
Suddenly?
No, more importantly, is he even capable of swinging a golf club?
I feel like his arm would pop out if he swung it once.
I couldn't give a proper answer to the unexpected golf lesson offer from the Oil King.
However.
"Of course, Mr. Rockefeller! My son-in-law will consider it an honor."
My father-in-law's reaction was different from my expectation.
"Boss?"
I was flustered by my father-in-law suddenly trying to sell out his son-in-law.
"What are you doing, Lee? Why aren't you going? Do you think opportunities like this come often?"
"Understood."
At my father-in-law's low whisper, I quickly nodded and headed toward Rockefeller, who was wearing a gray shirt and vest.
Come to think of it, even though I've grown rapidly lately, how often would I get the chance to even speak with Rockefeller, the Oil King and one of the richest men in America?
It wouldn't hurt to at least strike up a conversation while I have the chance.
"Lee, I'll be playing ahead, so take your time!"
With those words, my father-in-law disappeared quickly with the caddy.
Before long.
"Young man, let's start by trying the swing again. Keep your arms straight, and keep your strength slightly relaxed."
"Understood."
The unexpected golf lesson from the Oil King had begun.
***
One of the facts I learned while wandering the golf course with the old man Rockefeller instead of my father-in-law was that even with his ninety-year-old, frail body, he played golf better than I expected.
Clack!
As a cheerful sound rang out from the wooden golf club, the golf ball soared into the sky and cut across the fairway in a straight line.
Although he couldn't overcome aging and it didn't travel very far, it was a fact that at his age, he swung the club better than I did.
"That's impressive, Mr. Rockefeller."
"Phew, it's just an average level. Now it's your turn."
Rockefeller waved his hand at my genuine admiration and stepped back.
I bowed my head slightly toward him and stood in front of the newly placed golf ball.
Let's see.
First, keep the arms straight, relax the strength a little, turn the waist, and.......
I swung the golf club, trying my best to maintain the form I had learned from the old man Rockefeller for about an hour.
Before long.
Thwack!
The moment the head of the club accurately struck the center of the golf ball, the white ball drew a straight trajectory and crossed the sky.
Oh, I finally hit it!
I watched the flying ball and clenched my fist silently.
It was then that the old man Rockefeller approached me.
"Congratulations, you've made your first clean hit."
"Thank you."
"It shouldn't be easy if it's your first time swinging. Still, it seems you have quite a bit of talent."
"Haha, I'm still clumsy with physical activities. I think I was just lucky."
Thinking about how I used to get scolded at the laundry shop for not even being able to iron properly, it was probably luck.
If not that, maybe the Oil King's golf lesson was actually effective?
Anyway, I'll have to brag to Rita when I get home.
It was then, as I was looking at the grass where the ball had landed in the distance with a sense of pride, that he spoke.
"The things you've gained in business recently don't seem like luck, do they? Isn't that right?"
Old man Rockefeller opened his mouth with a subtle smile.
"Mr. Lee."
"...Did you know my name?"
"Well, I know that the old man from DuPont invested quite a bit in you. I hear you're also in the milk business these days? And......."
Rockefeller paused for a moment, then gave a meaningful smile.
"I also know you made quite a profit by betting that Wall Street would collapse."
"Haha... what are you talking about......."
No, how does this old man know that?
"My home is in New York. Thanks to that, I tend to receive news from Wall Street quite quickly."
While I was trying my best to hide my panic, Rockefeller's words continued.
"A month before Wall Street collapsed, a large amount of funds entered from Chicago through short selling. And at the very peak of the stock price, at that."
"Chicago people are naturally a bit pessimistic; perhaps that's why?"
"Even so, your efforts won't be in vain. Since you diversified your investments under borrowed names at several brokerage firms, most people, including the federal government, probably don't even know you exist."
This grandpa isn't listening to a word I'm saying.
"I'm not sure why you think that, Mr. Rockefeller."
"I just synthesized the rumors coming from all the brokerage firms on Wall Street. The fact that people who had never invested before all opened accounts at once and placed short sells means it was investment under borrowed names, and who else in Chicago could move that much cash besides that friend earlier who scrapes up money from bootlegging?"
No, can he really gather all that information in an era where there isn't even proper computerized management?
Is that just the standard for someone at the Oil King level?
"But watching you play golf, you don't look like the type of friend whose brain works that fast? And it's too much money for his subordinates to have handled on their own. Therefore, the conclusion is that it can only be you, who became his son-in-law this year."
"...By any chance, is that why you taught me golf?"
"Half of it is curiosity. There were others who predicted the crash, but you are the only one who entered exactly at the peak. Your age is also a factor."
"That was purely luck, though......."
"Don't joke. If that were the extent of your luck, you would have already bought all of Wall Street."
No, it really was luck.
Even if I have memories of my past life, I'm not a walking encyclopedia; how would I know when the peak was?
"I'm curious, how did you know that the market, which was rising to the heavens, would collapse like the Tower of Babel?"
Actually, I came from the future!
Since I couldn't say that, I had to make something up.
"Hmm... I suppose I should say I could see it."
"You could see it?"
"Stock prices were clearly soaring, but people were becoming increasingly poor. If people become poor, they won't be able to buy products, and then money won't flow into companies. The collapse of stock prices was a scheduled sequence."
Since I couldn't just say anything, I dragged out memories of what I had learned as general knowledge in my past life and rambled on.
"Hoho."
At that, the old man's eyes changed.
"Then, what do you think is the cause?"
What was this called again?
"I think it's because it's inefficient."
"Inefficient? What is?"
"The market."
"Market inefficiency, interesting. Keep talking."
"Originally, it was a market that operated efficiently by the invisible hand, but over a long period, inefficiencies began to accumulate like grease in the gears. If that piles up and piles up, eventually the machine is bound to stop."
"An interesting metaphor. Then, in your opinion, will this machine remain broken?"
"I think it will, unless someone wipes the grease off themselves. It needs the help of a third party that isn't in the market. For instance... the government, perhaps."
Hmm, did I say that for no reason?
I would think that an old man who is the ultimate liberal would hate even the mention of the government.
"Hmm... I didn't like the last part because it sounded like something a friend in New York would say, but it was an interesting story nonetheless. Efficiency is always important, after all."
Fortunately, instead of getting angry, Rockefeller began to rummage through his vest pocket.
Soon, he handed me a shiny 10-cent silver coin.
"Take it, it's the price for satisfying an old man's curiosity."
"Thank you, Mr. Rockefeller."
Is this the famous Rockefeller's 10-cent giveaway?
Aside from it being new money, it's only 10 cents, and even children can easily receive it, but I suppose it can be considered a souvenir in its own way.
As soon as I received the 10-cent silver coin, I tried to carefully put it in my pocket.
However.
"Wait, not yet."
The old man stopped me and put his hand into his other vest pocket.
Soon, he took out an old 10-cent silver coin from his pocket and held it out to me.
"Take this as well."
As I received the worn coin with the number 1870 written under the Statue of Liberty, Rockefeller continued.
"When you return to Chicago, go to the University of Chicago."
"Pardon?"
"There's a friend there named Arthur Compton, and if you show him those two coins, he'll recognize them."
If it's Arthur Compton, is that the person who won the Nobel Prize for the Compton effect?
Come to think of it, this old man practically built the University of Chicago, didn't he?
"Thank you. I will be sure to visit."
Anyway, from my perspective, if it's good, it's good; it's never a loss.
The very fact that he was introducing me to the most famous professor at the University of Chicago, which Rockefeller had funded, was as good as saying he wanted to keep seeing my face in the future.
"Good, then let's finish the round we were playing."
"Sounds good, Mr. Rockefeller."
At Rockefeller's words, I answered and carefully tucked away the two silver coins.
The keys that lead to the path of the giants who built the American economy.