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CH225 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-03-17 03:35:01 +0000 UTCTuesday, January 9, 1996
Under a clear blue sky without a single cloud, John Miller entered the anteroom, dressed in a cashmere coat and carrying a leather briefcase in one hand.
The female secretary, who had been seated at her desk working, quickly stood up as he entered.
"Good morning, sir."
Miller, his face set in a stubborn expression, gave a small nod in acknowledgment.
"It’s a bright and refreshing morning."
The secretary’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before she quickly concealed her reaction.
"Yes, sir."
"Bring me a cup of coffee in my office."
"Understood."
Miller strode across the room and entered his private office.
Only after the door had closed did the secretary, who had kept her head respectfully bowed, allow her surprise to show. She stared at the door and murmured,
"What's going on? Did something good happen today?"
It was unusual. Normally, he would just give a curt nod or ignore her entirely—engaging in small talk was almost unheard of.
Inside his office, Miller immediately took off his coat and hung it on the rack before settling into his desk by the sunlit window.
On the large desk, copies of The Wall Street Journal and financial reports on major companies’ earnings forecasts were neatly arranged.
Picking up The Wall Street Journal first, he scanned the bold headline on the front page:
[New York Stock Market Soars as Federal Budget Deal Eases Uncertainty!]
With the prolonged government shutdown showing no signs of resolution and economic indicators—such as unemployment figures—coming in strong, fears grew that the Federal Reserve would find it difficult to cut interest rates further. As a result, the stock market, which had been holding up well, took a sharp plunge on Friday.
The S&P 500 dropped nearly 10 points in a single day, and Miller felt his heart sink with it.
It wasn’t just about his bet with Seok-won—he had invested a staggering $500 million in S&P 500 futures. If the index continued to plummet, the losses would be catastrophic.
On Monday, when the market reopened, he had to seriously consider whether to cut his losses and close his long position.
Then, just when things seemed bleak, the White House and the Republican Party—previously locked in a tense standoff—reached a dramatic agreement on the federal budget.
"It really felt like riding a roller coaster over the weekend."
Miller could still feel the thrill from the moment he received the call from Washington while strategizing in his home library. The news of the budget deal’s resolution had sent a rush of adrenaline through him.
As a result, the previously shaky New York stock market rebounded sharply. When trading resumed on Monday, stocks surged, with the S&P 500 skyrocketing 12.78 points.
"The S&P 500 didn’t just avoid crashing—it effortlessly surpassed its previous high, closing at 630.11. That rookie won’t have anything to say now."
Not only had he successfully humbled Seok-won, who had acted cocky at the year-end charity party, but he had also secured a hefty profit. The satisfaction was like a long-awaited relief, lifting the weight off his chest.
He had been in such a good mood that he even found himself humming in the shower that morning.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Miller set down The Wall Street Journal.
"Come in."
"Excuse me."
His secretary entered, balancing a tray with a steaming cup of coffee, which she placed on his desk.
"Mr. LaCroix has requested to move the 2 PM meeting up by about 30 minutes. How would you like to proceed?"
Ordinarily, Miller would have been irritated by such a request, but today, he was feeling unusually generous.
"Do I have any other appointments at that time?"
"Ah... Yes. Fortunately, your schedule is clear."
The secretary quickly responded, swallowing her surprise.
"Then reschedule it accordingly."
"Understood."
As the secretary left the office with the empty tray, Miller took a sip of his coffee and checked the watch on his wrist before pressing the power button on his computer.
Whirrr.
The sound of the fan kicked in as the bulky CRT monitors on his desk flickered to life.
Miller waited patiently for the system to boot while sipping his coffee. When the password prompt appeared, he entered an eight-character password and immediately launched the trading program.
Leaning back in his chair, he watched as the New York Stock Exchange opened and trading began.
Unlike the previous day, when a flood of buy orders had driven prices sharply upward, today the S&P 500 fluctuated around the 630 mark, remaining relatively flat.
"Hmm. After such a big rally yesterday, taking a breather for a day isn’t a bad thing."
There had been concerns that profit-taking might flood the market due to corporate earnings worries, but Miller wasn’t too concerned—he believed the forces driving the market upward were stronger.
"Come to think of it, today’s the last day of the bet."
Counting from the day after the Christmas charity party, exactly fifteen days had passed.
"I should have the business card from that night somewhere in here."
Miller pulled a thick cardholder from his desk drawer and flipped through it until he found the card he’d received from Seok-won at the charity party.
A smirk spread across his face as he pulled out the card, got up from his chair, and walked toward the window.
As expected of Manhattan, infamous for its traffic congestion, the streets below were packed with cars, barely inching forward. Pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks, weaving between the vehicles.
Glancing down at the number on the card, Miller took out his cell phone and dialed.
After a few rings, a deep voice answered.
[Hello?]
"This is John Miller from P&P Partners."
Miller announced his name, his expression smug with satisfaction.
[Ah, how have you been?]
The response, as if recalling him only just now, made Miller scoff inwardly.
He was certain Seok-won must be feeling the heat from the soaring S&P 500, yet here he was, trying to sound composed. It was obvious bravado.
But it didn’t matter—Miller was the clear winner of the bet. With a smirk, he asked,
"You remember the wager we made that night, don’t you?"
[Of course.]
Seok-won answered without hesitation.
"Then you must also know that today is the final day."
Miller’s voice was dripping with confidence.
[It feels like just yesterday we were counting down to the New Year in Times Square, and now here we are.]
The calm response was entirely different from what Miller had anticipated. He had expected some nervousness, a sign of distress.
So he deliberately twisted the knife.
"You must have taken quite a hit with your short position. And now you’ve lost the bet on top of that. Must be a tough pill to swallow. But don’t take it too hard—after all, it’s going to a good cause."
The thought of Seok-won gritting his teeth in frustration made Miller’s smirk widen.
However, instead of sounding troubled, Seok-won responded in an unexpectedly cheerful tone.
[I'm glad you think so.]
"Hmm?"
Miller furrowed his brow, still holding the phone, unable to immediately grasp the meaning of Seok-won’s words.
Seok-won continued speaking.
[The legendary New York Yankees player Yogi Berra once said, ‘It ain’t over till it’s over.’]
Miller clicked his tongue inwardly. The outcome was already clear as day, yet Seok-won refused to admit defeat cleanly, clinging to pointless hope.
"Didn’t you see the S&P 500 at the opening? The biggest bearish factor, the government shutdown, is over. There’s not even a 0.1% chance of the market flipping now. Clinging to empty words like that—this is truly disappointing."
[It seems to me that you’re the one who hasn’t checked the index properly, Mr. Miller.]
"What?"
Miller’s face twisted in irritation, his voice openly displaying his frustration.
[The market’s color has changed. Why don’t you take another look at the index?]
"Hah! This is absurd."
Scoffing in disbelief, Miller turned and walked back toward his desk.
"What kind of nonsense is he talking about?"
Still fuming, he glanced at the three major index graphs displayed on his computer monitors—
And then, his body froze.
Just moments ago, at the market’s open, the S&P 500 had been holding steady around the 630 mark, even if it was somewhat flat. But now, as if mocking him, the index had plunged more than five points.
"T-This... What the...?"
Miller’s eyes widened in disbelief, his words faltering.
From the phone’s speaker, Seok-won’s voice rang out, filled with composure.
[I told you, didn’t I? You don’t know who’s won until the game is truly over.]
"No... H-How is this happening?"
Miller was too stunned to even respond to the taunt. He simply stared at the S&P 500, which was still dropping like a rock.
At that moment, the phone on his desk began ringing loudly, its shrill tone cutting through the air.
Riiing! Riiing!
Hearing the commotion, Seok-won chuckled softly.
[It sounds like you’re busy. I’ll leave you to it.]
Miller didn’t even manage a reply. He just stood there, holding his phone to his ear, staring blankly at the monitor.
Even as the ringing continued, drilling into his eardrums, he finally lowered his cellphone and reached for the office phone instead.
[Sir! We have a major problem! All three major indices are plummeting!]
The frantic voice of the head of fund investments snapped Miller back to reality.
"The market was perfectly fine just moments ago—what the hell is going on?!"
His face contorted in rage as he erupted.
Judging by the cacophony in the background—blaring phones and people shouting—chaos had broken loose on the trading floor.
The investment manager, still rattled, hurriedly explained the cause.
[Apple just released its earnings report, and it was a major shock—far worse than anyone expected.]
"How bad are we talking?!"
[Everyone knew Apple was struggling and expected a loss, but instead of the projected $68 million deficit, they reported a staggering $74 million in losses for the last quarter.]
Miller instinctively let out a sharp breath, gripping the receiver tightly.
[The widening deficit was shocking enough, but on top of that, they announced a massive cost-cutting measure—laying off 7.4% of their workforce, roughly 1,300 employees. That news is fueling an even steeper selloff.]
"......"
[With severance pay and unemployment benefits from the layoffs, Apple is expected to incur at least an additional $125 million in losses next quarter. Investors are dumping Apple stock in response.]
Miller clenched the Wall Street Journal on his desk so tightly it looked like he might crumple it in frustration.
"The earnings were disastrous, sure, but Apple has been losing market share to competitors like IBM and HP for a while now. It’s a sinking ship. And yet, an Apple earnings shock is causing this level of chaos in the market? Right now?!"
[With investor sentiment already weakened by the shutdown, there was growing concern that major companies wouldn’t meet earnings expectations this quarter—especially given the recent rally in stock prices. And now that Apple has actually reported such dismal results, that fear is pushing investors to lock in profits before things get worse.]
"Damn it!"
Miller cursed, knowing full well that, in their position, he might have made the same call.
[The sell-off is accelerating, and things don’t look good. What should we do about our long positions in S&P 500 futures?]
Still holding the phone to his ear, Miller stared at the monitor, biting his lower lip hard.
He wanted to hold the position, but even he could see that the index was in freefall. The sheer vertical drop in the graph was alarming.
He had a bet riding on this with Seok-won, but he couldn’t let that cloud his judgment—not when the fund’s performance was at stake. Clicking his tongue in frustration, he barked into the phone.
"Liquidate everything, now!"
[Understood.]
The immediate response suggested the trader had been worried Miller might hesitate.
Slamming the receiver down hard enough to rattle his desk, Miller turned back to the screen. The wave of sell orders kept flooding in, dragging the market down further.
Muttering to himself, he stared grimly at the plunging index.
"...There’s no way we’re going to see a 50-point drop in a single day... right?"
A collapse of that magnitude was a once-in-a-year event, if that.
And yet, despite trying to convince himself otherwise, an unmistakable sense of unease darkened Miller’s expression as he watched the S&P 500 continue its downward spiral.
