The Manhattan Gambit (8)

Editor-in-Chief Gerunwald, I highly commend the modern and sophisticated style you’ve brought to The Time. But the moment has come to reach beyond formality and touch the hidden underbelly.

Henry rested his chin lightly on his hand as he stared at the man. “Right now our magazines are drowning in grand discourses—corporate earnings, national affairs, that sort of thing. But what do the masses truly go crazy for? People. And not just any people—people tied to very specific amounts of money.”

Gerunwald’s eyes sharpened. Henry didn’t miss the opening and drove the point home.

“Corporate rankings have grown stale. And what’s the result? Our magazine may carry symbolic weight, but actual circulation? Third place. We were overtaken by Forbes last year—third place. I know this will provoke fierce backlash, but from now on, rank individuals by personal wealth. Strip away the bubbles hidden behind trusts and family fortunes. Track only tangible assets registered under personal names and line them up accordingly.”

Henry’s voice gained real force. “We will officially declare who truly owns America—no, the world. Build the kind of authority that makes people lobby desperately to get on that list and feel utter shame if their name is missing. That authority will become the magazine’s sales numbers and our power. There will be pressure, of course, but if we don’t do it, someone else will steal the idea. Let’s seize the pole position.”

This was a surefire winning move. In his previous life, Forbes had used this single concept to rocket from a second-tier business publication straight to the top tier, gaining a powerful weapon that would later help it survive even during management crises. If the prestigious current-affairs and economics title The Time played this card first, the Forbes of this life would likely never gain real authority and might even go bankrupt and vanish from history.

Of course, execution would be hell. Fierce opposition and pressure from old-money families like Henry’s own, non-cooperation during the initial ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠research phase, lawsuits from billionaires every time an issue dropped, and endless media noise. Still, Henry intended to push it through.

That way, when I eventually take the number one spot, I’ll be able to massage the publicly visible numbers on my own wealth to look just right.

Henry had zero intention of grinding his own body to dust just to make money. Even now, during the precious early days of his businesses, he was the kind of guy who protected his work-life balance—or rather, work-avoidance balance—by doodling pictures. Yet the advantage of regression was so overwhelming that even someone like him would inevitably become an unmatched tycoon. Simply continuing venture investments could pull Elon Musk’s trillion-dollar milestone forward by decades. That was the true power of knowing the future.

But yesterday Henry had realized something. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Once he intervened, the butterfly effect was unavoidable, and the shelf life of his future knowledge would expire the longer time went on. Once he concluded it was impossible to force himself to follow a fixed timeline while only pocketing money, he decided to shake the entire board in his favor. The results of that decision were the “China Threat Theory” and this “World’s Richest Ranking.”

Without such resolve, Henry would have hesitated even when the first 1982 issue approached, merely toying with the idea. A heavy silence fell for a moment. Henry smiled again and smoothly changed the subject.

“And while it’s true that The Time holds an unshakable first place in current affairs and economics, from the outside it looks far too much like an exclusive club for men in suits. Fashion, trends, women, high culture—these territories are empty. We should aggressively acquire trend-leading magazines, starting with intellectual titles like The New Yorker.”

Henry finished with a voice full of conviction, almost like a declaration. “My goal is simple. From the moment Americans wake up until they fall asleep, the only magazines in their hands should belong to our The Time group. Whether they’re reading current affairs or checking fashion, the beginning and end of all information should flow from us. Editor-in-Chief Gerunwald, you must become the master architect of this vast media ecosystem.”

President James Shapley wore a dazed expression, as if his soul had left his body. But Editor-in-Chief Henry Gerunwald and Andrew Huckel nodded vigorously, gazing at Henry with sincere eyes.

“That is why I want you to keep a close eye on The New Yorker. I’m not saying buy it immediately. This is the time to pour money into building our distribution network. Still, the groundwork for acquisition must begin now. We need a sophisticated plan that respects their pride yet naturally draws them into our arms the moment their management crisis reaches its peak.”

The New Yorker’s valuation currently fluctuated between three and five hundred million dollars—an expensive property. Henry decided to lay the bait first. He looked straight at President Shapley and spoke with emphasis.

“But Fairchild Publications is different. Move aggressively to acquire it right now. The company that owns the fashion magazines M and FDD is at its cheapest point in history. There is no reason to hesitate. At the same speed we seize the distribution network, we must make their content, their magazines, and their expertise our own.”

Ordinary people might only know them as fashion magazines, but within the industry they held near-biblical authority. Moreover, the magazines this company operated carried overwhelming influence in every specialized field—furniture, housing, grocery distribution, electronics—each one essentially the The Time of its sector.

When those specialty magazines introduce products and take mail orders, what if our logistics company handles the delivery perfectly? There’s no way it fails. Simply distributing alone makes real money difficult. This is how we create synergy through vertical integration.

When both Huckel and Shapley fell silent, overwhelmed by Henry’s momentum, he took another step forward.

“In addition, put Rolling Stone and Robb Report on the shopping list. Rolling Stone symbolizes the rebellious culture of the younger generation. If we own their spirit, we will control the public opinion of the youth who will lead the future. Conversely, Robb Report deals with the secret desires of the ultra-wealthy. The Time will handle current affairs and economics, Fairchild will cover fashion and specialty titles, youth will belong to Rolling Stone, and high-end luxury will be the domain of Robb Report.”

Even if we buy all of them now, it won’t even reach a hundred million dollars. The accumulated corporate reserves will more than cover it.

“And once the acquisitions are complete, track down and recruit a young editor named Anna Wintour who is currently working in Britain. She may not look like much right now, but she will instantly elevate the fashion magazines we acquire into the world’s most authoritative publications. Trust my eye. She is the talent who will become the face of our fashion empire.”

As of June 1979, Anna Wintour was merely a thirty-year-old fashion editor. But Henry, who had read more than ten novels about the media industry in his previous life, knew very well that she would one day become something akin to the pope who ruled over the fashion world.

And mentioning Anna Wintour specifically carried no risk. She was already widely recognized in the industry as a promising talent, so a single line—“I looked into the industry in advance and found a gem”—secured all the plausibility needed.

Henry swept his three key executives with eyes full of certainty and delivered his final order.

Henry rose from his seat and drove the point home one last time. His resolute, conviction-filled voice rang through the executive office.

“We are not simply a company that sells bundles of paper. We will become a ‘lifestyle empire’ that dominates Americans from the top of their heads to the tips of their toes—every taste they have and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠delivery network that brings those tastes to them. Now, go. As long as you don’t bring me pathetic proposals, I will personally take responsibility for persuading the board and securing approval. I look forward to seeing your bold execution plans on my desk.”

I hold 69% of the board. Once I’m convinced, it’s over. It’s basically a pre-approved decision.

A few days later, The Time’s expansion plan landed on Henry’s desk. He read through the documents meticulously, then signed without hesitation. Since he had personally designed the board and given the instructions, there was no reason to reject it unless the execution plan contained fatal holes.

Originally, magazines with this much prestige can’t just be bought on the open market like meat just because you have money. Internally the families pull the strings, but externally they hide behind The Time’s trademark policy of ‘separation of editorial and management.’ There shouldn’t be much resistance to the acquisitions. More importantly…

Henry licked his lips as he stared at the monitor on his executive desk. Since he had already built enough plausibility by actually using it, the time had finally come to stick a straw into Orange.

He opened his notebook and double-checked the investment targets he would squeeze between his California schedule.

Hollywood is still too risky. Silicon Valley is just in its infancy… Oracle looks good. Most of the other names that will become famous later haven’t even founded their companies yet… As for Microsoft, I saw on NewTube that they don’t accept any outside investment at all, so poking them would be pointless. Oh, right! Later they bought the operating system foundation Seattle Computer Products, supplied it to IBM, and struck it big with the OS! I should buy that before they do and force their hand.

Henry wrote in his notebook: Before autumn 1980—buy QDOS first, along with a rather wicked little plan. After thinking it over again, no matter how he looked at it, the only investments worth making at this time were Oracle and Orange.

I have zero intention of acquiring either and running them myself. I’ll give them voting rights and rip away massive equity stakes. Oh, and what about Nike?

Since it had come to mind, he immediately called Gilberto.

“Good morning, Gilberto. How did the Nike matter I instructed you about turn out?”

“Good morning, Boss. I was just about to report. They’ve been expanding aggressively lately, but it seems their cash dried up because of the tariff dispute settlement. Nike accepted the investment quite eagerly. We offered the ‘crazy terms’ of giving the founder full voting rights, so it would have been stupid not to accept.”

“You attached anti-dilution clauses instead, right? And secured a generous stake.”

“We invested ten million dollars to secure 15% equity. The anti-dilution was so stubborn that we settled for priority investment rights instead. But Boss, honestly, I’m doubtful whether that sneaker company is worth such a large investment.”

At Gilberto’s skeptical tone, Henry snorted. Even 15% was practically winning the lottery.

Once Nike goes public next year their market cap will hit four hundred million dollars, and when Mr. Jordan joins it’ll punch through the ceiling. Doubtful? Just wait and see.

“Good work. I tried Orange II myself and it’s quite the product. The machine itself is excellent, so I’ll invest there too. The technology that handles the data inside seems like it’ll be a real money printer. I hear the Oracle program made by a company called RSI is so outstanding that even the CIA wants it. I plan to proceed with the investment under a trust name. Same conditions as with Nike. Voting rights to them, equity to us. I’ll go myself to stamp the deal and get some California air, so set up a schedule.”

“From their perspective ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it must feel like an angel has descended. No interference, no use of voting rights, just free money. Haah… Understood. I’ll finish preliminary coordination and set the schedule.”

After hanging up, Henry stretched pleasantly. Now it was time to bind Silicon Valley’s future legends to the Debenver Trust.