Golden Spoon Investor

Singapore International Monetary Exchange (SIMEX)

"Whoa!"

"The Nikkei is rising!"

"Is this just a dead cat bounce?"

"No, the rebound is way too strong for that."

"You're right."

As traders murmured in confusion over the sudden market reversal, someone finally revealed the reason behind it.

"The Japanese government just announced a massive reconstruction plan!"

"A staggering 2 trillion yen!"

"...!"

Realizing that this wasn't just a temporary rebound but a surge backed by solid fundamentals, the once-hesitant traders' eyes gleamed with urgency.

Like a pack of starving wolves, they rushed to their trading desks, frantically punching in orders.

"Buy 150 contracts at 600!"

"80 contracts at 610—buy!"

"Not 600—get 100 at 615!"

"230 contracts at 18,650—BUY!"

The Japanese stock market, which had plummeted to 18,544 the day before, had now skyrocketed past 18,600—sending traders into a frenzy.

Just a day ago, the devastating earthquake had caused the market to crash, prompting almost everyone to short-sell as quickly as possible.

But now, with the index soaring unexpectedly, desperate traders scrambled to buy back the shares they had sold, trying to limit their losses.

Just as Seok-won had predicted, what unfolded wasn't just a massive short-covering event—it was a full-blown short squeeze.

Amidst the chaos—where the trading floor looked as if a bomb had gone off—

Brad Cooper, General Manager of Barings Bank's Singapore branch, sat frozen in shock, staring blankly at the madness unfolding before him.

And rightfully so.

He had seen this as the perfect opportunity to recover all his previous losses and bring his 88888 account's massive negative balance back to zero—

—so he had bet everything on a 1,000-contract short position.

The largest trade he had ever executed in Singapore.

A final, all-or-nothing gamble for a miraculous comeback—

—but the result was an absolute disaster.

"Brad… what do we do now?"

"Shit! It's already broken through 18,610—and it's still climbing!"

Employees wearing Barings Bank vests surrounded Brad Cooper, their faces drained of color, shouting in panic.

Snapping out of his daze, Brad quickly rushed to the Bloomberg terminal set up in the trading pit.

Even in those few short moments, the Japanese stock market had surged past 18,610 and was still climbing.

The mere thought of how much money had evaporated in just minutes made Brad feel dizzy.

But he couldn't afford to freeze up now.

Clenching his lower lip, he turned toward his team and shouted.

"Close out the positions before the losses get worse—NOW!"

"How much?"

"EVERYTHING! Before someone else snatches up the orders—MOVE!"

His bloodshot eyes burned with urgency as he barked orders, and the traders responded in unison.

"Yes!"

"Understood!"

They sprinted to their trading desks, scrambling to buy back their shorted positions.

But the market was already in full rally mode, and there were no sellers in sight.

To make matters worse, everyone knew that Barings Bank had aggressively shorted Nikkei futures, so investors deliberately held back their sell orders.

They were waiting, expecting Brad to desperately raise his bid—

—like hyenas circling a bleeding, exhausted prey, waiting for it to collapse.

Brad gritted his teeth.

"Bastards."

But deep down, he knew—if the roles were reversed, he would have done the exact same thing.

That was just how the game was played.

In this cutthroat world, the same people who shared drinks with you the night before would tear you apart the moment they saw weakness.

"What do we do? There are no sellers at all!"

A female trader, her voice filled with desperation, turned to him.

Brad couldn't take it anymore.

He stormed out of the office, making a beeline for the trading floor.

At the center of the chaos, he spread his arms wide and shouted at the top of his lungs, veins bulging in his neck.

"19,000! No—19,100! Buy 300 contracts!"

That was a full 500 points above the current market price.

At that moment, the watching traders pounced, flooding the market with sell orders as if they had been waiting for this exact moment.

Brad frantically grabbed the dealing cards being shoved toward him, shouting orders at the top of his lungs.

"500 contracts at 19,100—BUY!"

The roar of the trading floor intensified.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, his hands overflowing with dealing cards as he desperately tried to contain the crisis.

But what Brad Cooper failed to realize—

—was that he had just sealed his own fate.

He wasn't saving himself.

He had thrown himself off a cliff.

***

Meanwhile, in Tokyo—

Brad Cooper wasn't the only one in full-blown panic over Japan's sudden stock market rebound.

RIIIIING! RIIIIING!

"Buy 5,000 shares of Sony at market price!"

"What? You want to cancel your sell order? The trade is already executed."

"There's nothing we can do now."

At Nomura Securities' headquarters in Chuo Ward, Tokyo, the trading center had descended into absolute chaos—for the second day in a row.

Phones rang off the hook, traders scrambled to place frantic buy orders, trying to snatch up soaring stocks before prices climbed even higher.

At the same time, desperate institutional investors called in, begging to cancel their now-regrettable sell orders.

Traders wiped sweat off their brows, forced to deal with the insanity from both ends.

It was complete and utter mayhem.

In the midst of it all, Yoshimura, the trading division head, stood frozen, his mouth slightly open, staring at the electronic ticker board.

Every stock was flashing red—

—not because they were crashing, but because they were surging.

Normally, Yoshimura would have celebrated a market rebound like this.

But he couldn't.

Because just yesterday, in anticipation of continued market collapse, he had sold off all his firm's holdings, cutting losses at rock-bottom prices.

He had pulled the plug too early.

To make matters worse—

—he had also shorted a massive amount of Nikkei futures.

It was meant to minimize losses—

—but instead, it had multiplied them into something far worse.

"H-how… How is this possible…?"

"This… this doesn't make any sense."

How could the entire market flip upside down in just one day?

To Yoshimura, this felt like a cruel nightmare.

Even if the devil himself had been watching his every move, deliberately manipulating the market against him, it couldn't have gone this perfectly wrong.

Just then, Uemura, his subordinate, rushed over, his face pale as a sheet.

"Sir, our futures short position is bleeding badly—what should we do?"

Yoshimura's eyebrows shot up.

For a moment, he wanted to scream—

Wasn't this all your idea, you bastard?

But he bit back his anger.

Yelling wouldn't change anything now.

Besides, no matter who suggested it, the final decision had been his own.

With a grim expression, Yoshimura forced out his next question.

"What's our position?"

Uemura immediately responded.

"We shorted 1,200 contracts at 18,500."

"Damn it! That's a shit-ton of contracts!"

Yoshimura cursed under his breath.

Uemura flinched, sensing his superior's rising frustration.

But Yoshimura didn't have the luxury to worry about appearances.

The higher the Nikkei surged, the deeper the losses would cut into them.

His temples throbbed as he pressed his fingers to his forehead.

Then, gritting his teeth, he barked at Uemura—

"Buy it all back—NOW!"

"You mean the Nikkei futures?"

Yoshimura's eyes twitched.

"What the hell else would I mean?!

Cover the short before we bleed out any further—BUY EVERYTHING YOU CAN!"

"Y-yes, sir!"

Uemura spun around and sprinted off, racing toward the trading desks.

Watching him go, Yoshimura clicked his tongue in frustration.

Then, turning his gaze to the giant price board mounted on the wall—he swore again.

"Son of a bitch."

"Damn it, nothing's going right."

Yoshimura, his nerves frayed, took the cigarette from his mouth and harshly flicked it to the ground.

***

That night.

In the chilly air of January, Seok-won sat alone at a parasol table in the garden.

Gray cashmere cardigan draped over his shoulders, he held his phone in one hand, his eyes gazing down at a plump tabby cat that now purred and rubbed against his leg. A faint smile crept across his face.

"With today's surge, the Nikkei will probably climb even higher tomorrow."

Then, Landon's voice, light and amused, responded.

[I agree. We caught a good short position, and just from Nikkei futures, we've already made over $760 million. I'm excited to see how much more we can profit.]

"The Japanese government announcement came, and the market surged almost 1% in half a day, right?"

[Yes. It closed up 170 points, or a 0.92% gain. We were close to breaking the 1% mark, but it's a bit of a miss.]

"Don't worry, there's still tomorrow."

[Right now, the ones who bet on shorts must be having a headache from the massive losses they incurred today. Meanwhile, we just have to relax and watch our profits roll in. It's a nice problem to have.]

Seok-won could almost imagine the contentment in Landen's voice, as if he were already basking in the comfort of a full belly.

[I can't even imagine what would've happened if we had held our positions. The thought alone is enough to make me shudder.]

While they hadn't suffered major losses from high entry prices, the profits would certainly have been smaller.

[You really have a knack for timing these things. I'm always amazed.]

With a small chuckle, Seok-won gently lifted the tabby cat, who had jumped onto his lap, now curled comfortably in his arms, as if it had decided to claim the space as its own.

"How are things going on the SIMEX?"

[Are you talking about Brad Cooper?]

"Yes."

[He's had a rough couple of days.]

"..."

[When the Kobe earthquake struck, the Nikkei plummeted, and he sold over 1,000 contracts in futures. Now, with the market soaring again, he's faced massive losses.]

It was clear that in his attempt to recover all his accumulated losses in one go, Brad had overestimated the market, only to be caught in the opposite situation.

[Unlike you, he completely missed the timing.]

Although it was clear that most believed the Nikkei would continue to drop before the Japanese government's announcement today, Brad's choice couldn't easily be blamed.

It was simply a matter of bad luck.

'Thinking about it, it's almost as if the boss can predict the future. His insights are uncanny.'

Landon admired Seok-won's exceptional foresight.

[With the huge loss he took, if you're right about him being a con artist, his true colors should show soon.]

"That's likely."

Seok-won, while trying to avoid the cat batting at his phone, leaned back and asked.

"The Nikkei's previous high was 19,331, right?"

[Yes.]

"Then, if it breaks that high, let's liquidate all our positions and place another short bet."

[What?]

Landon replied, shocked.

[What do you mean... Are you expecting the Nikkei to stop rising and fall again?]

"Exactly. Like I said before, this surge is due to the massive expectations around government spending and the short cover rally driving the index up. That means once the short cover is finished, the upward momentum will naturally weaken."

[But isn't there still optimism about the recovery from the earthquake?]

"Of course, there is. But if aftershocks continue, and the damage from the earthquake turns out to be astronomical, what happens then?"

Landon paused for a moment before responding with a firm voice.

[It would put cold water on the market's rising hopes.]

"Exactly. If the focus shifts from recovery to the immense damages, the market will experience a stronger disappointment than before, and the index will drop more sharply."

[That makes sense. I understand now.]

After discussing the strategy further, Seok-won ended the call and gently scratched the cat's chin, which had settled comfortably on his lap.

The cat purred and stretched out, and Seok-won smiled softly, looking up at the bright moon.

"It's time to wrap this up."