CH109

January 23, 1995, Monday

Singapore International Monetary Exchange (SIMEX).

The bustling trading floor hummed with its usual frenetic energy.

Traders, clad in brightly coloured jackets denoting their firms, gestured wildly, their shouts reverberating through the cavernous space, making it almost impossible to hear oneself think.

Amid this whirlwind of activity, Brad Cooper sat in the Barings Bank pit, silently observing the chaos around him.

His gaunt face, marked by sleepless nights, and bloodshot eyes betrayed the storm brewing within. His leg bounced nervously, a subtle rhythm of his mounting anxiety.

The oppressive aura surrounding him was so palpable that even his own team hesitated to approach, wary of the tension radiating from him.

The recent earthquake had thrown the Japanese stock market into a volatile frenzy, oscillating between euphoria and despair. Brad, unfortunately, had caught the wrong wave—losing on both ends of his trades.

His eyes stared blankly at the Bloomberg terminal in front of him, though his mind was far from the flickering numbers and the cacophony of traders shouting around him.

Damn it!

The curse echoed in his thoughts.

If only I hadn't rushed. If I'd just waited a little longer to see how the market moved… But hindsight was useless now.

The losses in account 88888 had spiralled out of control, forcing him into increasingly desperate moves.

Each hasty trade, meant to plug the growing hole, only deepened it—compounding his losses rather than alleviating them.

Over the weekend, alone in the office, Brad had meticulously tallied up the losses on the trade tickets, his calculator confirming the grim reality he couldn't escape.

The hidden losses in account 88888 now exceeded 10 billion yen.

Betting against the Nikkei, expecting it to plummet further after the earthquake, had been a catastrophic mistake.

The only silver lining was that after reversing his position, the Nikkei futures he bought were climbing sharply, surpassing 19,100 by over 300 points.

Brad had now completely liquidated his short positions and gone all-in on Nikkei longs.

If the index could push past the 20,000 mark, he could significantly cut his losses and breathe a little easier.

There's still time before March, he reassured himself. The market sentiment is positive. Breaking 20,000 shouldn't be a problem.

His plan was simple: ride this wave until he could offload his positions, recover enough to ease the pressure, and reassess for the next move.

'I've come this far. I just need to survive this hurdle.'

Lost in his anxious thoughts, Brad barely noticed when one of his teammates, having just handed a dealing card to the pit clerk, glanced at him with concern.

"Brad. You okay?"

Jolted from his reverie, Brad snapped his head up.

"What?"

"You don't look so good. Are you feeling alright?"

Brad Cooper waved his hand dismissively, brushing off the concern.

"Nah, just haven't been sleeping much lately. Insomnia's been rough."

He forced a weak smile, trying to sound casual.

"You know how it is—lots of things to worry about these days."

"Ah, yeah," his teammate replied, nodding in understanding. They all knew the rollercoaster the Japanese market had been on lately, and how it had everyone on edge. Sensing Brad's stress, the colleague wisely fell silent, giving him space.

Brad rubbed his face with both hands as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion. His eyes drifted to the large electronic price board flashing across the trading floor.

Without another word, he reached across his desk and picked up the phone, dialling a number in Tokyo.

Ring! Ring!

"Hello... hello...?"

"Eric, it's me."

"Oh, hey."

Even over the line, Brad could hear the chaos in the background. It was still prime trading hours in Tokyo, and the floor was alive with the usual clamour.

"How's the mood over there?"

"Looks like we've shaken off the earthquake jitters. Unless something new pops up, I think the market's going to keep climbing for a while."

Brad exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. It was the answer he'd been hoping for.

"That's good to hear."

"Yeah. But Kobe's still a mess. They're saying rescue efforts are ongoing, and rebuilding's going to cost a fortune—not to mention the time it'll take."

"Yeah, I've been watching the footage on the news. It looks like a warzone."

"It's ironic, though. Construction stocks are hitting the ceiling because of it."

"Go figure," Brad muttered, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

Shifting the phone in his hand, he added, "Keep an eye on things. If anything changes, let me know immediately."

"Will do."

Just as Brad was about to hang up, Eric's voice shot through the receiver, tinged with sudden alarm.

"Wait, hold on—what the hell?!"

Brad's stomach knotted instantly, his expression hardening.

"What's going on?"

"A sudden flood of sell orders!"

"What?!" Brad barked into the phone, his heart lurching.

"Nikkei's reversed course—it's tanking! Something's off. I'll call you back later!"

Before Brad could even respond, Eric had already hung up.

For a moment, Brad just sat there, the receiver still in his hand, staring into nothing. When he finally snapped out of his daze and lifted his head to the massive price board in front of him, his blood ran cold.

The Nikkei, which had been climbing steadily just moments ago, had nosedived—plummeting like a stone off a cliff.

The sudden crash sent shockwaves through the trading floor. Traders scrambled from all directions, crowding the desks, their shouts growing more frantic by the second.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"I don't know, but SELL!"

The index, which had soared over the past few days, was collapsing like a house of cards, and the uproar from panicked traders echoed through the floor like an alarm bell.

"Goddamn it, why is it crashing?!"

"Are these Nikkei numbers even real?!"

"Shit! This is bad—this is really bad!"

Traders who had bet on long positions were now waving their dealing cards wildly, screaming to offload before it was too late.

"SELL 250 at 19,100!"

"Dump 500 at market price!"

"I placed my order first!"

"Move! MOVE!"

"Get out of my way!"

But as the Nikkei plummeted, no one wanted to buy. The fear was contagious, and the deeper the index fell, the more the panic spread. The entire trading floor was now suffocating under the weight of despair and disbelief.

Brad Cooper stared at the price board, his mind blank. The numbers kept falling, but his brain refused to process what was happening.

"Brad! We've got to—"

"The index—it's crashing! What do we do?!"

His teammates' voices swirled around him, full of alarm, but Brad couldn't hear a word. It was as if he were underwater, everything muted and distant.

His vision blurred, and the room tilted slightly. The Nikkei wasn't just crashing—it was dragging him down with it. It felt unreal like he was trapped in the middle of some grotesque nightmare.

No, he wished it was a nightmare.

If this were just a dream, he'd wake up drenched in sweat, but at least everything would be back to normal. The numbers on the board would reset, the losses would vanish, and the pit in his stomach would disappear.

But this wasn't a dream.

The Nikkei kept falling, and with each drop, it felt like Brad himself was being hurled from a roller coaster, plummeting into the abyss. His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat.

"Ugh."

Swallowing the bitter taste back down, Brad clenched his eyes shut.

Every instinct screamed at him to run. To get out of this godforsaken place. To leave it all behind.

But how?

How do you escape when you're already in free fall?

Brad Cooper finally realized he was trapped in a colossal quicksand pit with no way out—and despair washed over him.

***

Gimpo International Airport, Seoul

On one side of the vast tarmac sat a sleek, white Gulfstream IV business jet, its fuselage gleaming under the fading light like an elegant swan. It was the recently delivered private jet of Eldorado Fund.

Inside the cabin, where thick carpets lined the floor and luxury oozed from every detail of the interior, Seok-won sat alone.

Reclining slightly in a plush leather seat by the window, he gazed out at the crimson-tinged sky as he spoke on the phone with Landon, who was in New York.

[The Nikkei just closed—plunged nearly 1,000 points today alone.]

"That's practically a panic attack on the market," Seok-won replied coolly, his eyes reflecting the fiery sunset beyond the round window.

[The Kobe earthquake's damage estimate released by the Japanese government is staggering. Over 10 trillion yen. I was speechless when I first heard the figures.]

Seok-won nodded slightly, his mind calculating even as his tone remained detached.

"No matter how strong Japan's economy is, that's not an easy sum to cover."

[It's not just the stock market that's tanked. Japanese government bonds have dived too.]

[The market's expecting the government to issue a massive amount of bonds to fund the recovery.]

[Even a wealthy country like Japan can't cover astronomical reconstruction costs through taxes alone.]

Holding the phone to his ear, Seok-won gave a small, knowing nod. There was only so much they could divert from other government budgets, and imposing new taxes was politically risky. That left one obvious solution: printing bonds.

'The Kobe earthquake was the tipping point—the beginning of Japan's fiscal deficits and ballooning bond issuance.'

The disaster wasn't just a tragedy; it was the final blow to an already fragile Japanese economy, setting the stage for what would later be known as the "Lost Decade"—or perhaps even thirty years of stagnation.

Shaking off the brief reflection, Seok-won continued,

"Unlike the crashing Japanese stock market and government bonds, the USD-JPY exchange rate will keep soaring."

[Because of the sheer scale of damage, the inflow of foreign capital back into Japan will surge, right?]

A faint smile played on Seok-won's lips. Landon had picked up on his line of thinking instantly.

"Exactly. If my prediction holds, the yen will climb to at least 90 per dollar."

[Did you say 90 yen?]

Landon's voice shot up in surprise, but Seok-won's response was steady, unshaken.

"That's right."

[If that happens, we're looking at the return of a super-strong yen era.]

It was a bold forecast, considering that back in 1985, after the Plaza Accord, the exchange rate had been 250 yen per dollar. The yen had appreciated drastically since then—but 90 yen would mark a new high.

[If you're right, we'll rake in huge profits from the currency exchange alone.]

Landon sounded almost giddy before a sudden thought tempered his excitement.

[Wait… did you trade Nikkei futures in yen with Nomura and the other Japanese securities firms to capitalize on the forex gains?]

Because Seok-won had dealt in yen, not dollars, any appreciation of the yen would not only boost his trading profits but also add significant foreign exchange gains.

"If we can profit from currency exchange gains too, why not?"

Landon burst into laughter, realizing this had been Seok-won's plan all along.

[Hahaha! You're absolutely right.]

"Both the exchange rate and the Nikkei will move in our favour. Let's hold our positions for now."

[Understood.]

"I'm heading to the U.S. now. We'll discuss the details in person."

[I'll be waiting.]

As Seok-won lowered the phone from his ear, a slim, blonde stewardess approached with a soft smile, as if she'd been waiting for just that moment.

"Are we ready for departure, sir?"

"Yes, we are."

"Thank you. Please fasten your seatbelt."

Moments later, the Gulfstream IV carrying Seok-won roared down the runway, lifting powerfully into the air before disappearing into the dark night sky.

TL/n -

Barings Bank - Wikipedia