The Greatest Conglomerate Ever With the American Lottery chapter 17

17. Why a junkie?

17. Why a junkie?

“What kind of person are you talking about?”

“I want to start an investment company.”

“You are? Are you crazy? I’m not disrespecting you, but you, the guy who shot and rolled in the army and then came out and became a small business salesman?”

This guy offends me.

I’m ignoring him, right?

The original fact-bombing made George a bit of a polemicist.

“But have you studied investing? Not even close. I’m not going to ask you how you made your fortune. Arthur, Arthur.”

“You asshole! I mean, aren’t you asking me to save people?”

“You’ve got a funny way of looking at the world, haven’t you learned anything in your life? You don’t know any better, do you think you’re going to make the company work if you just take people you know and make them work for you?”

“You think I don’t know that? Hey, don’t look down on Korean small businesses. It’s where you can learn about all sorts of things about people that you can’t learn even if you spend twenty years in a big company, although I can’t recommend it because the learning process is pretty sh*tty—.”

“Really?”

“Okay. Try five years in a small business.

You’ll get to know people like the back of your hand.

Of course, not all small businesses in Korea are like that, but at least the one I worked at, Daesung Apparel, was.

“People? The world? Hey, man! No matter how successful you are with your genius, you don’t get to talk to me, do you? Have you ever experienced a family torn apart by the wind? Have you ever seen a relative’s aunt, who was smiling and giving me pocket money yesterday, barge into my house today and tear my mom’s hair out, screaming at me to give her money?”

“…”

“All I know how to do is shoot and roll, damn it, that’s what you have to say to me, and what about you, have you ever rolled with a rubber boat on your head for 132 hours with no sleep, have you ever suffered from hypothermia in the cold waters of the sea, you son of a b*tch, even if you immigrated and called yourself Mi-Pil, you still have something to say, your nationality is still Korean, and you dare to insult the army that I gave my youth to?”

“That’s not what I meant, is it?”

hahahaha, I don’t know why I’m flaring up so quickly.

Young Shik must have said it out of concern for me.

“Drink it, man!”

“Okay, let’s drink.”

Young-sik and I didn’t talk for a while, and if we didn’t eat snacks, we drank soju one after another.

“Youngsik.”

“Yeah.”

“You have a good head, you know it, I know it, Everybody knows it, but you have a really bad habit.”

“What’s that?”

“You admit that you have a habit of always looking down on other people, and then you try to judge and mold their lives to your standards? Fix that, asshole!”

“You’re a f*cking asshole! You’re my father?”

“What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?”

“That’s what my dad tells me all the time.”

“Is that so? Then listen to him, asshole!”

“Cackle!”

“Poohahahahaha!”

“hahahahaha!”

The two of them giggled for a while, then raised their glasses again.

“I’m sorry, Chul-Sik, I was just worried about you.”

“I know, asshole. That’s why my fist is still.”

“You know what?”

“What?”

“That you also have a bad habit of always trying to settle things with your fists? Fix that, asshole!”

“Fuhahahaha!”

“hahahahaha!”

We had a good laugh together, but it was painful.

Yeah, let’s fix that, too.

“Seriously, what are you going to do? You don’t know much about investing, do you?”

“Well, I’ve been studying investing for the past few years, and I realize that doesn’t mean I’m going to come out and say I’m going to start an investment firm in front of you, but I have an idea, so you don’t have to worry about that. It’s not like I’m going to take other people’s money and invest it.”

“So, you’re going to manage 100% of your own money?”

“Absolutely, that’s all I’m going to do, and why would anyone trust me to invest their money?”

“Of course not.”

“So, by the grace of the bead gods, will you invest?

What kind of crazy person would invest in this?

“Then what kind of person do you want?”

“I don’t need someone with a great investment track record, that’s not going to come to me. I just need someone who is knowledgeable in the practice of investing, preferably with a lot of experience. Because I’ll be the one making the investment decisions.”

“You?”

“Yes, I have an opinion, and I want you to know that and not pry.”

“Phew, I really don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“Well, at least I’m not a character who talks crap.”

“That’s why I don’t know any better, asshole!”

“Hmph! Ah! I’ve got the most important thing.”

“What is it?”

“You have to be someone I can trust, even if you’re not very good.”

“What the hell do you want on this floor, this is Wall Street, Wall Street, where greed and betrayal run rampant, and you think that’s okay?”

“Hey! Isn’t that why I’m asking you to do me a favor? And since I’m the one who makes the final decision on who to hire, I want you to recommend people who are roughly the right fit. I won’t blame you later.”

“Really? Honestly, there are plenty of people with the right skills, but I can’t guarantee their character.”

“Are you going to make me say it twice? Just recommend a few people. I’ll take it from there.”

I’m not 100% sure yet, but I’m putting my faith in the prayer beads.

There will be a response, one way or another.

“Ah! I don’t know! I’ll recommend a few people, you’re on your own, you crazy bastard!”

“Hmph, thanks. Sorry, one more thing.”

“What else?”

“I’m going to be in LA, so you’ll need to be able to leave New York and move to LA, and of course, if you hire me, I’ll pay for your moving expenses and housing.”

“Why, why not stay here?”

“Ew! I hate New York! It’s too complicated! I want to live in LA, where it’s nice and spacious.”

In this day and age, I don’t have to be in New York, do I?

It’s not like I’m going to make connections here, right?

“Okay. How much money are you going to manage?”

“Do I have to tell you that, too?”

“So I’m God? I don’t know if you have $10 million or $100 million, so how am I supposed to recommend you? It depends on how much money you have under management?”

“Yeah.”

What do I say?

If I just said a billion dollars, I’d be in trouble again.

One hundred million dollars?

That seemed too small.

So, $300 million?

Sounds about right.

“Three hundred million dollars!”

“What? Three hundred million dollars each? What are you—.”

Young-sik was about to ask something, but I closed my mouth.

I said it, so you can’t ask me more.

No matter how curious he was.

“Ha, damn it, the sun is going down. Let me ask you something.”

“Ask me.”

“Is it clean money? I trust you, but since it’s money, I have to ask.”

“I’ll give you the same answer.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My dad says the same thing! Dude, what do you think I am? It’s 100% clean money, don’t worry about it.”

If there’s a guy out there who’s made more money than me, let him show me.

My money is 100% pure and made by luck.

“Good for you. Okay, so how long are you going to be in New York?”

“I’m here to save people, so until I save people.”

“Just give me a couple days. I’ll look for you.”

“Hmph! Thanks, buddy!”

“Ugh! You enemy!”

Later that day, Youngsik and I moved from place to place in Korean style and drank like rice cakes.

However, Youngsik doesn’t have the stamina to drink as much as I do.

Naturally, I had to be a total dick and walk him home.

He was still single and living alone, but as if to prove that he was a successful investment businessman, he lived in a luxury apartment with an amazing night view.

“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”

“Hey! Hey! Elevator, you’re gonna puke!”

“Uh-uh-uh—.”

“Just a little bit! Just a little bit more!”

“Oof!”

“Hey!”

“Ugh!”

“Gagging—.”

In the end, Young-sik threw up as soon as he entered the house.

After roughly undressing him, cleaning him up, and putting him to bed to get some rest, I overheard Young-sik mumbling something.

“Chae, Chul-shik—.”

“Why?”

“I love you—.”

“What? Do you want me to open Line 2?”

“Kkkkkk—.”

Pissed!

Yeah, I love you too, asshole.

A week goes by and I hear from Young-sik.

He said, “I’ve got it roughly organized, meet me at his office.

“Hey, you have a nice office.”

“It’s too noisy, stop fussing and sit down. This is Wall Street, Wall Street, and it’s important to show it off.”

“Good for you, you’ve got big biceps!”

“C’mon, how about it, it’s supposed to be funny?”

“You’re only saying that because it’s not funny!”

“Oh, never mind, did you get any recommendations?”

“I’ve got them all listed right here.”

“Acky, thanks.”

At first glance, it was quite a thick filing cabinet.

“How many people are there, why is it so thick?”

“It’s because the candidates’ materials are all combined. There are six people I’m recommending.”

“Six people, and it’s this thick?”

“You’re going to have to buy me a big drink. I did a full background check, just in case.”

“Wow, you really went that far?”

“This is Wall Street, and if you don’t want to get scammed, that’s the least you can do. Sure, all six of them are on a first-name basis, or I’ve met them once or twice, but you never know.”

Okay, that’s me.

“I’m gonna make this quick, so listen up.”

“Okay.”

“This is Honor Harrington, the one I’d recommend the most. He’s had a rough couple years and has lost a lot of form, but class never dies.”

“What kind of soccer does he play?”

“Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, Harrington’s going to cost you some money to get him, and you’ll have to guarantee him some incentives.”

“Hmm, okay, okay, what next?”

“This is David Webber, his age is 42, and—.”

Young-sik’s explanation went on for a while.

“And now for the last one. This is John Smith.”

“John Smith? Is that your real name?”

“Yup, it’s his real name. That’s how everyone reacts when they hear it for the first time. It’s such a common name that it gets lost.”

From nob le mt l. co m

John Smith is a name like Kim Cheol-soo or Hong Gil-dong in Korea.

It’s so common that it’s often used as an anonymous or pseudonym.

Fortunately, it’s not John Doe, which is used for unidentified dead bodies or people.

“Anyway, I’ve been thinking about whether or not to recommend this guy to you, so just go with it.”

“Why?”

“I’ll be honest with you. He’s someone I know well.”

“Does that matter?”

“It doesn’t. It’s just that he has a serious flaw in his past.”

“What’s that?”

“Drugs.”

“What? You were a junkie?”

“Yeah, I’m clean now, but I was addicted for a while, and it was pretty serious.”

“And you’re sure you’re clean?”

“For the record and by my own admission, I’ve been clean for about a year and a half, but just in case, I paid a lot of money to have my system tested by express, and it’s clean, and I’ve attached the test results here.”

The junkie was honestly a bit reluctant.

“But why do you recommend him?”

“This guy, he went to my college and MBA program, and he was a legend at one point. He was one of the biggest stars on Wall Street, and he was my role model.”

“No, what happened to him?”

“I thought he was doing fine during the subprime mortgage crisis, but he got sued on a couple of big ones in the aftermath of that, and it was really bad luck, because even back then, not many people got hurt on Wall Street. Only the common people were dying.”

“But why him?”

“I’ll keep my mouth shut, but the conventional wisdom on Wall Street is that he fell into a trap.”

“By whom?” “What does this guy say? He’s like Sisyphus in Korean these days.”

I know what you mean.

“Do you know that saying?”

“I’m also a diligent visitor to Korean sites. Anyway, he’s got a lot of ugly hairs all over him because he talks well, so it’s just a guess.”

“No, so why would you recommend a junkie, no matter how good he is?”

“Because I know him personally, and I wanted to give him another chance, and most of all, I wanted to see him shine again, because he’s too good to be wasted.”

“Then why don’t you write it?”

“I’d love to, but we can’t. If word got out that we hired John, we’d lose investment capital. But it’s different when it’s 100% yours, right?”

“It is.”

“Don’t feel pressured, but just realize that there are people like this. It’s a little overwhelming, even for me.”

“Okay. Thanks, I’ll think about it for a few days and get back to you.”

“Okay.”

That night in the hotel room.

I laid the files of the five people on the table in order, except for the junkie.

Young-sik said it would take a few days, but why am I looking at this for days on end?

I don’t know what I’m looking at anyway?

After calming myself down, I placed my beaded left hand on the Honor Harrington file, the one Young-sik recommended the most, and concentrated.

“Iyab!”

I glared at it for a while, but it didn’t respond.

“What, it’s not him?”

Or not.

And a second time, David Webber.

“Keee!”

sh*t, I’m pushing hard and sh*t is coming out.

It’s not him, either.

What the f*ck is this?

“Abbooooo!”

“Ahhhhh!”

I could be on top of five files, one after the other, and nothing would happen?

I can’t believe it.

Wait, you were drunk as hell then, weren’t you?

Bam! Bam!

He pulled out his whiskey, blew on the bottle, waited until he was well intoxicated, and tried again.

“Yay!”

Damn!

What the hell happened?

I tried the whole thing again while drunk, and still nothing.

I poured myself a full glass of whiskey and lost myself in thought, until I spotted the John Smith file I had tossed next to the table.

“What?”

But just in case, I put it on the table and reached for it with my left hand.

And then,

Shiny! Shiny!

“Huh-huh-huh! What is this?”

An unmistakable bead reaction.

To a junkie?

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