David Lockhart (1)
I gave up my lifetime business-class pass, but Bridgeworld Airlines still issued me a business-class ticket this one time.
After a two-hour flight from Atlanta Airport, I stepped out of John F. Kennedy International Airport with my carry-on in tow.
It felt, in a strange way, like I’d just finished a long journey, but when I thought about it, only six hours had passed since I’d boarded the flight bound for Orlando.
"So this is New York at last."
I dragged my luggage straight toward Wall Street.
On that narrow strip of land at Manhattan’s edge, dozens of skyscrapers stood packed together in neat rows.
"Incredible."
This was the center of the world’s financial markets. Not just commercial banks and investment banks, but world-famous private equity firms and hedge funds were gathered here too. Somewhere inside one of those towers, deals worth millions, even tens of millions of dollars, were being closed at this very moment.
I couldn’t even begin to guess how much money moved through this place.
"You really do have to play in deep waters."
If I was going to work in the United States, having a U.S. number would make things easier.
So I stopped by a carrier store first and activated a prepaid phone, then submitted the paperwork to incorporate the company.
The total capital came to $113 million.
I poured in every last dollar I’d made from speculative stocks and junk bonds. I’d already settled on the company name: Continue Capital.
I called Seonwu.
"The incorporation's done."
"Oh! Nice work. But is there anything I need to do?"
"Nope. I’ll work hard and build you a game company, so just sit back and enjoy the show."
Last time around, I’d been the one riding in the bus. This time, it was my turn to give someone else a ride.
Until yesterday I’d been unemployed, but now I was the head of a proper investment firm. A phantom company, sure, with no employees and no office yet.
Well, didn’t everybody start that way?
Still, the moment I thought of it as my own company, something like responsibility began to settle on my shoulders.
"So what are you going to do now?"
"Hire employees, of course. I already sent out emails asking them to come in for interviews tomorrow."
Recently, the biggest news on Wall Street had been the bankruptcy of Victory Investment.
Victory Investment had made its name with aggressive bets. Instead of spreading its money across a wide range of industries and stocks, it concentrated heavily on one or two high-growth names, and that strategy had generated massive returns.
When things were going well, there was no problem. But once they started going wrong, everything snowballed.
When the private company that held the largest share of the portfolio collapsed under accounting fraud, Victory Investment went down with it.
And David Lockhart became unemployed.
After graduating from NYU School of Law and earning his license, he had joined Victory Investment.
He had originally wanted to work at a law firm, but he chose private equity because it offered a higher salary.
At the fund, he handled all kinds of legal matters and built up his knowledge of investing, which earned him a strong reputation in the market.
As a lawyer, he also knew accounting.
He had reported more than once that the company’s books looked suspicious, but management had brushed him off.
Then, when the scandal finally exploded, the blame landed squarely on him.
The official line was that the investment had failed because he hadn’t properly checked the financial statements.
Investors called him one after another to vent their anger, and in the market he was branded a failed investor.
The executives who had actually overseen the investments had already jumped ship before the company collapsed, taking severance packages worth millions with them.
But he had stayed until the very end and cleaned up the mess.
In any case, the company was gone, so he had to find a new job.
David posted on job sites and sent out resumes everywhere, but getting hired again wasn’t easy.
Word had spread across Wall Street that Victory Investment had collapsed because of him. What investment firm would hire a man who had driven a company into the ground through failed bets?
As the months of unemployment dragged on, his debt kept growing, and collection notices kept arriving from the bank.
David grew more and more desperate.
I need to find a new job, fast.
The situation was hopeless, but he couldn’t give up.
Back when he was in law school, he and his girlfriend had had a daughter, and after the girlfriend left, he had raised the child alone.
She was the apple of his eye.
To him, his daughter was the whole world. If it came to it, he would gladly give his life for her.
But she was suffering from malignant lymphoma. At an age when she should have been going to school, she was instead stuck in a hospital bed undergoing treatment.
He made a decent salary. Even so, it was no small task to cover his daughter’s medical expenses on that income alone.
After losing his job, he had been paying the hospital bills with borrowed money.
He had taken out loans and even borrowed from people around him, but even that had reached its limit.
Every day the phone rang and more notices arrived, but there was no one left to borrow from.
And if unemployment dragged on much longer, his health insurance would be cut off too.
If that happens, everything’s over!
He prayed to God.
I don’t care what happens to me. Please, just help my daughter!
Fortunately, it seemed heaven had not yet decided to let him die, because one company finally contacted him and asked him to come in for an interview. To a man who had been drowning in despair, it felt like a miracle.
"Yes!"
The email had come from Shark Management.
It was a hedge fund founded by Michael Preston, the eldest son of the famed Preston financial dynasty, and had recently been making waves on Wall Street as a rising star.
This was the best chance he had.
He had to grab it by any means necessary.
David got a haircut and a shave for the first time in ages, had his suit cleaned, polished his shoes, and prepared for the interview with absolute care.
But two days before the interview, another email arrived from somewhere else.
"Continue Capital? What kind of place is that?"
David Lockhart put on a suit and left home in time for the appointment.
Of course, he was still thinking about Shark Management, but nothing had been finalized yet. He needed to be prepared in case he failed the interview.
The interview location wasn’t a company office, but a Starbucks near Central Park.
When he stepped inside and looked around, an Asian man stood up from his seat and raised a hand.
"Are you David Lockhart?"
"Yes."
"It’s nice to meet you. My name is Han Miru."
"Are you Korean?"
"That’s right. Shall we get coffee first?"
David sat down and studied the man across from him. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, a young Asian man.
"Thank you for coming. After I saw the resume you posted, I really wanted to meet you."
"Me?"
Han Miru smiled.
"Yes. Your investment experience impressed me, and so did the fact that you’re a lawyer. These days, if you want to do this kind of work, you need quite a bit of legal knowledge too."
Listening to the man’s English, David immediately realized he was a foreigner.
"Do you live in New York?"
"No. I got here only a few hours ago."
"Then you came all the way from Korea to meet me?"
"Yes."
"You said the company was called Continue Capital?"
"That’s right."
"I’ve never heard of it. I searched for it, but couldn’t find much. Where’s the headquarters?"
"I’m looking for one now."
"So there’s a headquarters in Korea, and you’re in the middle of setting up a U.S. branch?"
Han Miru gave an awkward laugh.
"To be exact, Continue Capital is an investment corporation I founded yesterday. It doesn’t have a headquarters yet. I’m planning to establish one here in the United States."
"...What?"
"I did set up an investment company, but I need someone who can actually run it properly. That’s why I emailed you as soon as the incorporation was finished. So if you sign with me, you’d become Continue Capital’s very first employee."
"..."
David was so stunned he could barely find the words.
When he finally collected himself, he asked bluntly, "Are you kidding me right now?"
"Hardly."
David’s irritation was starting to rise.
"I’m not in a position to joke around right now."
He had to find a way to cover his sick daughter’s hospital bills immediately. Every second he spent sitting here felt like a waste.
"I’m not joking. I really do want to hire you."
David stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to bore through him with his eyes. Han Miru didn’t look away.
Judging by his expression, he didn’t seem to be fooling around.
But even if he wasn’t joking, David had no intention of joining some brand-new company that had nothing to its name. He needed money now.
I just wasted my time.
There was no point in talking any further.
"I’m going to get up now."
As he rose and turned away, Han Miru said one more thing.
"I’ll give you a $1 million signing bonus."
At those words, David’s body stopped on its own.
He turned his head slowly and asked, "Seriously?"
"Does it sound like a joke?"
"Then sit down for a second."
Still half-risen, David lowered himself back into the chair.
"You’re really saying you’ll give me a million dollars?"
"Yes. That’s only the signing bonus. Your salary will be paid separately."
A million dollars?
With that kind of money, his immediate problems would be solved.
It was hard to believe what the other man was saying, but he asked anyway, "Will the signing bonus be paid over several years, or when can you send it?"
"Lump sum. Right away."
David’s eyes went wide.
"You mean it?"
"Of course. I can transfer it to you right here and now."
His tone was light, almost playful, but his eyes gleamed with sharpness.
David swallowed hard.
Is he serious?
With a million dollars, he could move his daughter to a better hospital and make sure she received the best treatment. He’d be able to pay off the money he’d borrowed and stop worrying about hospital bills for a while.
For his daughter’s sake, he wouldn’t have been afraid to sell his soul to the devil.
"What are the terms?"
Han Miru smiled faintly at the question.
"I’d like you to take over and run Continue Capital. The title of Co-CEO would probably be appropriate. I’m thinking of a ten-year contract, though I’d be happy if we could keep working together after that too. What do you think?"
David was used to identifying the essence of things.
When he evaluated a company, he paid less attention to inflated sales figures or flashy performance than to the real value hidden underneath.
The same was true when he looked at people.
And yet, for some reason, he couldn’t make sense of the man sitting in front of him at all.
It was the first time something like this had happened, and the more he thought about it, the more confused he became.
Why on earth is he making me this offer?
Still, the important thing was that he had offered a one-million-dollar signing bonus. And David needed that money now.
There was no guarantee that he’d even pass Shark Management’s interview tomorrow.
Should I take this offer?
After a long silence, David finally spoke.
"What’s the salary?"
"How about this? Since it’s hard for me to hand over a huge sum all at once, let’s start with $100,000 a year for the first year."
That was a high salary compared to the average office worker, but in Wall Street terms it was low. Even at Victory Investment, he had been paid more than $300,000 a year.
So he’s offering a low salary and planning to make up for it with a larger bonus structure?
But Han Miru still wasn’t done.
"Instead, I’ll double it every year for ten years."