July 5.
George Soros was a man driven by desperation, always grappling with the complexities of documenting financial turbulence. For some time now, it had been widely known that his strategy was simple: borrow massive sums from banks, convert them into stable currencies—like the dollar or the franc—and then wait for the crash. When the collapse came, he would repay the loans at a lower rate, securing a profit that he used to fuel further speculation.
–Damn it, – muttered Raimon, sweating as he watched Billy continue to make eerily accurate predictions.
The numbers that were once in the red had turned green. It wasn't a total failure—he'd predicted a 55% drop, and the market had fallen 65%. The puts would clear tomorrow, but they had already sold off the shorts. And when it all played out, he finally saw Gwen tremble. It had been days since the cold, calculating woman had shown any sign of vulnerability. But now, visibly shaken, she was cracking under the pressure.
–So, how much did we make? – Raimon asked, his expression feline, curious. There was a flicker of madness in his eyes—this is what the stock market did to people. He too felt the weight of uncertainty, seeing everything move in unexpected directions. When they first entered, the baht was trading at 25 BTH per dollar. Now, it had plunged to 50 BTH per dollar—and it might keep falling, especially if the international banks stepped in.
–We made more than enough. It's confidential, but I can tell you your 5% cut of the profits is at least $42 million. And we've still got some capital left to place long positions in Thailand, then move into equities. So much cash is flowing into our pockets, and we'll just repeat the process with other assets, – Gwen replied, analyzing how their plays in stocks and indices had yielded that return. The gains masked every discrepancy.
–We'll make even more with the new puts we'll hold long term. Next, we'll replicate the strategy in Malaysia and Indonesia, – said Raimon.
–I want to see the damn calculations from your bosses, – Gwen snapped, fed up with all the complications and the excessive detail. The man's analysis was maddeningly precise but layered in what she considered irrelevant justifications. Airports of Thailand, Thai Airways, and Bangkok Bank still had time to clear the puts. The money would double once they closed at the right dip. If the plunge continued without any signs of stabilizing, the return could push them into billion-dollar territory—that was the real prize.
–Then we keep going. I think Tiger Fund can help us now, – Gwen responded.
Raimon had the smug look of someone who'd just been proven right. He was overjoyed—he knew they could reproduce this exact scenario elsewhere. That gave him a sense of control, and now every step they took from here would be calculated to yield maximum gain.
He kept his eyes on the screen. The profits kept climbing. He wondered what that meant for people on the other side of the trade—when returns outpace expectations, someone always suffers.
–We'll double our profits. As much as possible, Raimon said with pride. He felt important. There was something so satisfying about being right when no one believed you. It was hard for most people to accept such a bold strategy, even after Billy had put all his money into it. Few would have taken such a gutsy risk. But for Raimon, it was a thrill to prove the gamble had paid off big.
And like a cold, hard truth, he realized that with the new long puts, they might double their winnings again. How generous fate could be to someone whose victory was this close.
–Yes... looks like we've finally found value! – Gwen said sarcastically. But that was her way—sharp, biting, like a blade.
***
News didn't travel fast in those days, so Billy waited for Raimon's message while training with his instructor, Hiroki. The fluid karate techniques gave him a sense of calm, and the workouts brought him joy.
–When were you planning on telling me? – asked Anne.
–When I made enough money for you and me, – Billy replied.
–For me? – Anne questioned.
–Of course. You're getting a bonus for keeping this quiet from the press and the IRS. It helps knowing you're the face of my company. We're going to be profitable for a long time, – Billy said.
–Such sweet words, – Anne said.
–I'm not flattering you. You've been loyal for years. You're smart, sharp, and an amazing worker. You know the company is growing, and I want to raise your salary again—another $200,000. That would bring you to half a million a year, plus the increase you get every three years, – Billy told her.
–Then I hope you mean it, – Anne said. For the raise to be approved, certain conditions had to be met: longevity, a three-year performance cycle, and at least a 5% proportional growth. Salary increases were reviewed annually. In 1995, there had been a rise, so transparency and performance were valued highly in such organizations.
–Well, Anne, I'm leaving the numbers to you and Raimon. I want results. I hope your end-of-year bonus and raise satisfy you. My money is making money, and that's going to help with our property expansions, the new acquisitions, and of course, the investments in upcoming films, – Billy said, taking a breath. – I want you to come to Australia. We need to talk in person about some acquisitions in the F industry. I'll give you the full details, and afterward, you'll speak with Raimon. I want you to close those deals. But we'll wait for the right time. –
–I can't say no, then, – Anne replied. – I think I can spare two days next week. I'll take care of the accounts and prep the paperwork. –
–Block off five days. I want you to see how The Matrix is coming along. Right now, production is pure fantasy—nothing solid—but it's worth seeing. Eventually, it'll bring huge returns for the company and our future projects, – said Billy.
–Back to your cryptic words. It sounds like you've got something brewing, – Anne said, confused. She booked a ten-day flight for July 15, as Billy had requested. He ran things with strict discipline. Maybe he wanted to spend time with her because their contract always required order and formality. She sighed. Love had never come easily for her. She'd been working since she was sixteen to support her home. Between countless jobs and her studies, she'd never had time for romance.
–Yes, well—it's ten days. And besides, there are email, phone calls, and the new manager handling lower-tier companies. Only a few meetings remain, – Billy added.
Billy was euphoric. Raimon's message, just a checkmark and a +, meant they had earned nearly triple what they expected.
–Goodbye, I've got things to do, – said Anne, already planning how to adjust her schedule. She had two meetings to reschedule: one regarding comic contracts, which could be delegated, and another with Jim about the treasury—she'd take care of that immediately.
–See you when you can. Monica will be here on August 1st. Her tour ends that day, – Billy said, fully aware of everything he had to do—give his best performance in The Matrix, keep working on Real, Bleach, and Eyeshield 21. With all the updates now in his script—sports, new additions, less focus on art but with greatly improved storytelling—he'd raised the quality of the narrative by at least ten points. He had plans for every character, their personalities pushed to the edge.
...