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CH213 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-03-13 03:50:00 +0000 UTCRodney, the CIO of Quantum Fund, sat alone at his office desk, which faced a large window overlooking Manhattan’s towering skyscrapers.
With his neatly combed hair, Rodney sat with his arms crossed, closely monitoring the movements of key stock indices on the four monitors set up on his desk—the Dow Jones Industrial Average, S&P 500, the NYSE Composite, and finally, the Nasdaq.
All four indices had hit bottom and were now rebounding sharply, quickly recovering the losses of the past few days. Stroking his chin with one hand, Rodney muttered under his breath.
"A market that had dropped to 600 has suddenly jumped 14 points... The stock market is definitely strong."
Even with the major headwind of the government shutdown, the market was still this hot, and yet Seok-won had boldly placed a short bet. Once again, Rodney was reminded that Seok-won had nerves of steel.
"Well, with that kind of boldness and drive, it's no wonder he's hit the jackpot multiple times."
Seok-won's exceptionally sharp investment instincts were impressive, but what Rodney respected most was his fearless risk-taking.
However, this time, it seemed that Lady Luck, who had always been on Seok-won's side, was not smiling upon him or the Eldorado Fund.
"If the Fed had decided to hold interest rates steady instead of cutting them, as many had predicted, his bet might have paid off. What a shame."
Watching Seok-won, who had risen to fame on Wall Street with staggering profits, now facing failure, Rodney felt a twinge of sympathy as an industry veteran who had observed him for a long time.
Yet, at the same time, he couldn't deny the slight sense of relief he felt.
Whenever George Soros took an interest in Seok-won, Rodney couldn’t help but feel a mix of jealousy and competitiveness. It was only natural that he was experiencing such conflicting emotions now.
Just then, the intercom chimed, and his secretary’s voice came through the speaker.
[Mr. Ian is here.]
Rodney shook off his wandering thoughts and stretched out an arm to press the intercom button.
"Let him in."
[Yes, sir.]
A moment later, a light knock was followed by the entrance of Ian, the chief manager.
“You’re still here, I see.”
“I was just planning to leave after watching the market close.”
With the Christmas holidays starting tomorrow and only four days remaining until the stock market closed for the year, the festive spirit was in full swing.
The stock market, which had been declining for days due to the prolonged government shutdown and concerns over the Fed’s decision to hold rates, had now successfully rebounded, surging upward—another factor adding to the holiday cheer.
As Rodney rose from his chair and moved to the sofa, Ian naturally took the seat across from him.
"So, where are you spending Christmas this year?"
Rodney, sitting comfortably with one leg crossed, initiated some light conversation.
“I remember you always go to warm Puerto Rico around this time of year.”
“You have a good memory. But with the shutdown still ongoing and my son back home from Yale, we decided to spend Christmas together as a family this year.”
“Oh, that’s right. Your eldest son got into Yale, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did.”
Ian answered with a proud expression.
Considering that Yale was one of the most prestigious Ivy League schools, even in the U.S., his pride was understandable.
“You went to Yale too, didn’t you?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Rodney asked as if the thought had just occurred to him, and Ian nodded.
“You must be even prouder that he chose the same school as you.”
“He actually got accepted to Harvard and Cornell as well, but when he said he wanted to follow in my footsteps and go to Yale, I was honestly both surprised and thrilled.”
As a father himself, Rodney could fully understand how he felt.
“But anyway, what brings you here?”
At that, Ian’s relaxed expression quickly turned serious, and he asked in a firm tone.
“Are you planning to hold on to your short position on the S&P 500 futures?”
Rodney had already been deliberating on the matter. Leaning back against the sofa, he asked,
“We’re not in the red yet, are we?”
“No, but if the index rises just eight more points, we’ll start taking losses.”
Clicking his tongue slightly, Rodney replied,
“Given how strong the rebound is, I wouldn’t be surprised if the index breaks past 622 once the Christmas holiday is over.”
“There’s even a chance it could surpass its previous high before the market closes for the year.”
Considering the bullish sentiment in the market, fueled by expectations of a Fed rate cut, it was entirely possible.
“If we don’t close out the position soon, the losses could be significant.”
After a moment of contemplation, Rodney narrowed his eyes and asked,
“Has Eldorado Fund made any moves?”
“I can’t say for certain, but judging by the stock prices of the shorted securities, there’s no sign that they’ve changed their position yet.”
“Hmm, is that so…”
As Rodney pondered, Ian leaned forward in his seat.
“But if the index continues to rebound like this, maintaining the position will require a significant amount of additional margin soon.”
“They might already be getting margin call notices as we speak.”
Nodding in agreement, Rodney absentmindedly tapped the sofa’s armrest with his fingers, deep in thought.
However, he also saw little chance of the index dropping again, so it didn’t take long for him to make a decision.
Having resolved to close the position, Rodney lifted his gaze and gave Ian a directive.
“As soon as the market opens after the Christmas holiday, liquidate all positions.”
Ian had been worried that Rodney might insist on holding on stubbornly, so he was visibly relieved.
“Understood.”
It still bothered him that Eldorado Fund hadn’t changed its position, but this was, by all accounts, Seok-won’s investment misstep.
He’s been on a winning streak for so long—it was only a matter of time before he stumbled.
If the S&P 500 broke past its previous high and kept climbing, Seok-won would have no choice but to cover his shorts.
Unless his past successes had blinded him with overconfidence, he was smart enough to take action before his losses spiraled out of control.
* * *
The next day,
Wall Street, New York.
In front of the New York Stock Exchange, famous for its grand marble façade reminiscent of ancient Greece, a stunning female reporter stood holding a microphone, looking into the camera.
“Following the unexpected interest rate cut announced by the Federal Reserve’s FOMC on the 19th, a strong wave of buying has flooded the market, sustaining the rally, particularly in blue-chip stocks. The demand for bonds has also been strong, with the yield on 30-year U.S. Treasury bonds dropping by 0.09 percentage points compared to the previous day… However, while the surprise rate cut has fueled the market’s rebound, some experts suggest that further gains will depend on the progress of the balanced budget negotiations. Reporting live from the New York Stock Exchange, this is Debra.”
“Okay, that was good.”
The cameraman, bundled up in a thick jacket with a scruffy beard, looked up and spoke.
“Jan, I think your last line got cut off a bit. Can we do one more take?”
At that, the cameraman, referred to as Jan, frowned slightly.
“You realize this is the ninth take, right?”
“This is really the last one, I promise.”
Freelance reporter Debra clasped the microphone with both hands, pleading.
With her striking brown hair and stunning looks, Debra usually got away with such requests. But today, even Jan wasn’t willing to budge.
“I admire your dedication, but cut me some slack. If I get home late on Christmas Eve, my wife and daughter will kick me out.”
Jan placed one hand on his waist, looking exasperated, and Debra finally relented.
“Alright, fine.”
Jan sighed in relief and began detaching the camera from the tripod.
“Debra, don’t you have plans tonight? A night like this calls for a fancy date with a guy.”
“Didn’t you hear? I broke up with my boyfriend recently.”
“Oh… right.”
Debra shot a slight glare and huffed, turning her head away.
“Sorry, I forgot.”
“Forget it. I don’t even want to think about that bastard ever again, so don’t bring him up.”
A week ago, Jan had heard the story—how Debra had returned from a two-day work trip only to find her live-in boyfriend in bed with a woman he’d met at a club. She had broken up with him on the spot.
Her eyes had been so terrifying back then that even Jan, who had nothing to do with it, felt his legs go weak.
“Ahem.”
Awkwardly clearing his throat, Jan continued packing up the equipment, while Debra helped with the cleanup.
As she was loading some lighter gear into the backseat of the van, her pager suddenly buzzed in her pocket.
[XXX-XXXX]
The moment she saw the number on the small screen, Debra’s eyes lit up.
“Jan! I need to make a quick call.”
Jan, lifting a large ENG camera bag into the van, called out over his shoulder.
“You know how ridiculous the parking fees are here, right? Make it quick!”
“I got it.”
Glancing around, Debra spotted a nearby payphone booth and headed straight for it.
She picked up the receiver with one hand, fished some coins out of her pocket, and dialed the number that had appeared on her pager.
The line rang briefly before someone picked up.
“Hello, Plaza Hotel Front Desk. How may I assist you?”
“Sara, it’s me.”
The hotel receptionist, who had started speaking in a bright and formal tone, hesitated for a second before continuing naturally.
“Good evening, ma’am. The item you requested has arrived today, so I’m calling to inform you.”
Debra adjusted her grip on the receiver, her expression growing tense.
“You’re sure? The CEO of Eldorado Fund is at the hotel?”
“Yes, it’s exactly what you asked about. He arrived yesterday, but I was off duty, so I couldn’t confirm it right away.”
As a fourth-year reporter, Debra had cultivated a network of reliable informants, and Sara, a front desk employee at the Plaza Hotel, was one of them.
Finally!
Debra bit her lip, barely holding back the urge to cheer.
Despite the media frenzy sparked by Quantum Fund’s CEO, Soros, the head of Eldorado Fund remained a mystery to the public. It was purely by chance that Debra had learned he frequently stayed in the Plaza Hotel’s penthouse.
Several months ago, while having drinks with Sara, Debra had caught hold of this golden lead when her tipsy friend let something slip.
“Got any good stories lately?”
“Hmm… not really.”
“Come on, there’s gotta be something. Like a big-time celebrity having wild parties in a penthouse or something.”
“Haha, nope. The VIP who stays in our penthouse is nothing like that. He’s ridiculously handsome, incredibly well-mannered, and tips generously. The housekeeping staff practically fight over who gets to clean his room.”
“Now you’ve got me curious. Who is this guy?”
"Eldorado Fund... Ah, damn it."
On Wall Street, Eldorado Fund was as hot a topic as LTCM. Landing an exclusive interview would be a major scoop.
That was why Debra had persistently asked Sara to notify her immediately if the fund’s CEO ever checked into the penthouse again.
For a while, there had been no word, and she had almost given up—until now. The opportunity had finally arrived.
"I'm heading over right now."
"You remember the price for the item, right?"
"Of course. I won’t forget."
"Great. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call."
Just then, the last of her coins clattered down, and the call ended.
Debra hung up the receiver and stepped out of the phone booth, her face brimming with excitement. She hurried back toward the van.
Jan, already seated in the driver’s seat with all the equipment loaded, glanced at her and called out, "Debra! Get in, quick."
"Sorry, Jan."
She opened the passenger door and grabbed her handbag from the seat.
"Something just came up—I have to go. We’re done here anyway, so you can head home without me."
"What? Where are you going?"
"To chase down a scoop."
Jan furrowed his brow, eyeing her skeptically.
"The hell are you talking about all of a sudden?"
"I'll explain later! Oh, and tell Megan I said Merry Christmas!"
With that, Debra slammed the car door shut and waved as she hurried off.
"Uh… okay?"
Left alone, Jan watched her disappear into the crowd through the rearview mirror, his face a mix of confusion and exasperation.
"What kind of trouble is she getting into this time?"
