May 13th, 1997.

I sipped my morning coffee as I skimmed through the newspaper.

The media was still hammering away at the supposed LTCM crisis, dressing up tabloid rumors like gospel and spreading them without restraint.

The one thing that gave me peace of mind was that I had little interest in using Goldman Sachs or AIG to strike at LTCM.

‘It’s collapsing on its own anyway... no need to get my hands dirty.’

–Rustle.

[Federal Reserve preparing emergency FOMO measures. Interest rate cuts loom in response to bursting bubble...]

[NASDAQ ends May 12 down 4%. Dotcom firms plummeting.]

[U.S. markets in decline for seven consecutive days... Is a ‘financial crisis’ coming? Some economists criticize, “America chose greed over supporting the Asian Monetary Fund.”]

The combined result of the Russian moratorium, the dotcom bubble, and the Asian financial crisis was staggering.

There were even murmurs that if oil prices weren’t low right now, the U.S. industry might’ve come to a complete standstill.

“Does the coffee suit your taste?”

Erin Collins, CEO of Alpha Fund, smiled gently as he spoke.

“Yeah. I guess it’s because you recommended it—it’s good. Wall Street has its perks, but its food culture is hopeless. This doesn’t even compare to what I’ve been drinking till now.”

Even I had to chuckle after saying it.

“Ahaha, right? Even the best restaurants don’t help if you’ve no time to enjoy them.”

Honestly, I’d given up quite a few pleasures here. Food, games, things like that. I simply didn’t have time to indulge.

Instead, my coffee intake had skyrocketed. For someone who already needed a lot of sleep, pulling all-nighters had become the norm. If my body didn’t handle stimulants so well, I’d have collapsed ages ago.

–Sip.

Not bad.

“I’m no amateur when it comes to coffee, you know. Ahaha, guess I learned something new.”

“I’m glad you like it, young miss. It was a bit of a struggle to bring in someone who only works for hobby.”

As anyone could tell from my habit of drinking coffee and reading the paper every single day, I didn’t skimp in this area.

I had three secretaries whose only job was to organize newspaper clippings. As for coffee, I started by having my chef make it, but eventually hired a professional barista.

‘Maybe I’ll learn how to brew coffee myself when I retire...’

It didn’t sound so bad.

I was busy now, but someday, I’d live a fairly dull life—might as well expand my hobbies.

“Young miss, would you mind sharing what you intend to do after acquiring LTCM? Things are incredibly volatile right now, and I could use your guidance.”

“Hm... advice, huh?”

–Tap, tap, tap.

I tapped my index finger on the table and gave a soft smile.

“First, we need to bring in the professors. Didn’t I tell you? I respect them deeply.”

“Does that mean... we’re dismissing Meriwether?”

Erin Collins asked cautiously. He was one of the very few Americans at Alpha Fund who had known my identity from the start.

The way he handled me so delicately made me suspect he might be under some kind of strange misconception... but I didn’t bother correcting it.

‘Kids these days... they get attached so fast.’

Not that I didn’t encourage it—but still, they were far too comfortable with me.

In any case, he’d brought me coffee with such care. I couldn’t just leave him hanging.

“That man... honestly, it’s time for him to step down. He’s old, and I doubt he could accept my presence. Academics I can persuade—after all, I’m something of a scholar myself.”

“Ah, now that you mention it, you’ve written some papers too.”

“Not many. Barely one in economics, really.”

One of the reasons Meriwether wasn’t acceptable—aside from the practical ones—was deeply personal.

Meriwether was just...

Yeah, a bit like that.

I’d seen him once in person back in my past life on Wall Street. Over 20 years older than now, Mr. Meriwether had looked quite pitiful.

After tanking LTCM, he went on to found another hedge fund using the same investment strategy, just with less leverage—and managed to crash again during the 2008 financial crisis.

And what did he do after that, when he was already past sixty? He tried again. Yes, he founded yet another hedge fund, trying to make a comeback.

That third fund didn’t even raise $30 million, apparently... a rather pitiful end for someone who once ruled the financial world.

‘But unlike you, who crashed once and stayed down, Meriwether at least left with enough to live on, right? And he lived twice the life you did?’

Ugh.

I could feel my conscience shouting suddenly.

Fine. Whatever. I guess he did better than me in my past life... Which is why you have to fail in style, even when you fail. Sometimes a shattered fragment is still greater than most people’s complete lives.

–Clink.

I grumbled internally as I set my coffee cup down. My current self had overtaken my past life to the point that it now made up over 80% of who I was. Still, sometimes the ghost of my former self reared its head.

“Hoo... One more piece of advice. When you meet with the Fed, ditch the greed. Or at least act like you have.”

Brushing off that ghost with a sigh, I looked him squarely in the eyes and offered the advice.

“Ditch greed, huh... You mean I shouldn’t get too excited about acquiring LTCM?”

“Exactly. What we’re doing right now is already pretty unethical. Goldman Sachs agreed to take the heat for us, but we’re going to catch some of that blowback too. It’ll hurt our plan to build an investment bank.”

“True. The Fed may be tolerating our acquisition out of necessity, but it’s not like they’re thrilled about it, so being cautious would be wise.”

“Right. Or... we could go full throttle and show them the height of greed. That’s an option too. Though, that one’s a bit tricky.”

“...Huh? What do you mean?”

“Dunno. Oh, by the way, when did you say the breakfast meeting is?”

I deflected the question and casually glanced at the clock.

The hour hand pointed to 8 a.m.

“Ten o’clock. I need to meet the Vice Chairman before the breakfast to finalize the agreement... so I should leave by nine.”

“Perfect. That leaves about thirty minutes. Take a look at this before you go. It’s the plan for the investment bank I drew up...”

–Flip.

I picked the top sheet from the pile of documents sprawling across the desk and handed him the summary with a sly smile.

He skimmed through the pages quickly, his eyes darting back and forth.

“...No doubt about it—after this crisis, the Fed will slash interest rates close to zero. Once we enter an ultra-low-rate era, the stock market will recover, but that inevitably leads to a real estate bubble. On the other hand, the broader the base assets, the more the derivatives market expands due to the inherent properties of financial engineering. The U.S. real estate bubble will grow beyond imagination. And for future plans, the recruitment of required talent... Uh, wait a second. Is this the ‘Plan’?”

At the mention of “Plan,” Erin Collins’s eyes lit up and a wide grin spread across his face.

Ugh, he’s staring holes into me—creepy.

“You really are sharp. Ahaha. Our fund sure has some capable people.”

There was a reason I’d appointed someone I barely knew as CEO. Collins was more than competent enough to represent Alpha Fund publicly.

He also had plenty of greed.

“No wonder you’ve been so aggressive about recruiting quants... And your favoritism toward that new guy, Charles Gray... and your intense rivalry with LTCM—was it all because you wanted to invest in developing new financial products?”

His eyes gleamed even more brightly now, his voice trembling slightly with desire and awe as it echoed softly through the office.

“Now do you see why ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) we need to acquire LTCM?”

I smiled faintly.

According to what I remembered from my past life, even after LTCM went bankrupt, and even after his next hedge fund failed in the financial crisis, Meriwether kept using the same strategy.

That’s not the kind of person I’m looking for.

I need someone who can build newer, more brilliant derivatives.

***

33 Liberty Street, Federal Reserve Bank of New York.

At 9:20 a.m., Alpha Fund’s CEO finally arrived, wiping sweat from his brow as he greeted Vice Chairman Peter Fisher.

“...You’re a bit late.”

“Whew. I’m sorry. I had a sudden realization this morning.”

Erin Collins bowed sincerely, though his face still carried an unmistakable sense of satisfaction.

“I understand. You must have a lot on your plate these days.”

“Thank you for your understanding. Now then, shall we talk in more detail about the LTCM acquisition?”

As he said this, Collins recalled her final piece of advice:

‘Ideally, I’d like the bailout and the LTCM acquisition to happen simultaneously. But if that doesn’t work, just poach the talent. I’ll give you as much money as you need, so don’t be stingy with the takeover. And if we join the bailout consortium—milk them for info, and focus the effort on the acquisition.’

It was a statement thick with implication: if both were possible, great—if not, oh well.

‘She doesn’t trust me. I understand. To the eyes of a genius, the ability of someone average must be disappointing.’

But still...

“Mr. Vice Chairman, may I ask for a favor? If Alpha Fund shoulders more of the financial burden... could you help resolve any short-term liquidity crunch following the LTCM acquisition?”

“Hmm... That sounds like... you’re suggesting a bailout and acquisition at the same time.”

“Yes, exactly. Let me explain in detail.”

Erin Collins, CEO of Alpha Fund, felt his heart pounding as he locked eyes with the man across from him.

‘I have to do this.’

If he couldn’t even be part of the blueprint that genius was painting... if all he amounted to in her grand plan was a puppet in a suit—wouldn’t that be too cruel, too humiliating?

He was a man overflowing with greed.