Chapter 216: Jim's Future

After leaving Peter Lynch, Carter hurried over to see Jim Rogers.

This time, Carter did not bring Likoris along. He gave her $500 and let her arrange her own afternoon. Carter then followed the address Julian had given him and knocked on Jim's door.

"Carter, you came at just the right time. Come and try the meat I'm grilling."

As soon as Carter walked into Jim's house, he was led to the backyard. The grill was filled with skewers of meat, and nearby was a bottle of Chinese liquor that Carter had gifted Jim last year.

"Perfect timing. Later we can enjoy some skewers and drinks. Life's pleasures can only be truly enjoyed when you have some free time!"

"Haha, I agree with you. By the way, where are your wife and kids? Are they at work or school?"

Carter smiled and nodded, placing the gift he had brought on the backyard table and casually asking the question. The house had been very quiet when he walked through it.

"I've had two failed marriages. Maybe I'm destined to be alone. Sometimes, it's nice to be able to go wherever you want whenever you want. Let's not talk about that. Try the meat and tell me if it needs any more seasoning."

Jim shrugged, his expression not showing much dejection, but there was a hint of bitterness in his tone. His love life had failed, and now even his long-standing friendship with Soros was strained.

"The taste is perfect, very good! You have great skills, and I have to say, this grilled meat tastes very familiar. It seems like a southern flavor. Did you prepare this especially for me?"

Taking a bite of the skewer, Carter said while opening the bottle of liquor. Then he stood up, planning to get some glasses from the kitchen.

"Jim, do you have any soft drinks in the fridge? Chinese liquor is quite strong, and if we drink too much at noon, we won't have a fun afternoon!"

"Yes, help yourself to whatever you like! When Julian told me you were coming yesterday, I stocked up at the supermarket. Wow, this liquor has a really unique taste."

Jim's voice echoed in the empty house, sounding a bit faint. Meanwhile, Carter, who had returned to the backyard with two bottles of juice and two glasses, heard Jim continue talking.

"This wasn't prepared for your taste. I was born in Baltimore, but I grew up in Alabama. Since I went to Yale, I haven't had this for a long time. It's a taste from my memories, though my skills are not as good as my father's!"

"It's already excellent! I'm serious. And you might not believe it, but grilled skewers with a little liquor is also a taste from my memories."

Putting down the glasses and juice, Carter picked up two skewers and walked over to Jim, who was grilling the meat. Handing one to Jim, he smiled and said this. In Carter's memory, skewers were usually paired with beer, but since Jim had brought out the liquor, he didn't mind.

"Are you kidding? You're too young to have such nostalgic tastes!"

Taking the skewer from Carter, Jim thought Carter was pretending to be mature. But seeing Carter's serious expression, which didn't seem fake at all, he thought Carter must be a good actor.

"Did you just come from Lynch's place?"

"Yes, I just visited Fidelity. The original owner of this bottle of liquor ran into some trouble, and I disturbed Mr. Lynch when I helped out, so I went to apologize."

"That's good. The Magellan Fund is doing well this year! How about it? My recommendation last year wasn't wrong, was it? Despite its previous poor performance, that had nothing to do with Lynch."

Jim chuckled, turning the skewers on the grill while chewing on one. His words were a bit muffled.

"Haha, Julian often praises your insight. He says you're the best market analyst he's ever met. How could you be wrong? And this year, the Quantum Fund's performance is even better, right?"

"Sorry, I shouldn't have brought that up."

"It's okay, you don't need to apologize. George and I just have different philosophies; it doesn't affect our friendship. I always believe that in our line of work, calling someone a good person is nonsense."

Jim shrugged nonchalantly, giving Carter a reassuring look. Then his gaze became a bit unfocused.

"How many companies go bankrupt every year because of market fluctuations? How many entrepreneurs jump off buildings? How many people lose their jobs and can't make ends meet?"

"I don't know, no one can know, but we all know the number is huge. Ever since George and I made enough money to comfortably sustain ourselves, I've often wondered about the point of our pursuit of wealth."

"My personal wealth now is what an average middle-class person would need to work for 2000 years to achieve. And that's not even considering inflation. We could live very comfortably for the rest of our lives even if we stopped now."

"Hey, are you saying you plan to retire and quietly enjoy your success?"

Jim's words seemed philosophical, and such complex issues were something Carter never liked to ponder deeply. Sometimes, he couldn't even figure out why he was doing what he was doing now.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity of being reborn? Or seeking a prosperous life?

Carter felt he had changed. If it were just for these reasons, after making a huge profit from gold, he could have just paid off his debts, taken the money, and returned to his home country.

In the 1980s, two or three million dollars was a huge amount of money. Considering the black market exchange rate, it was equivalent to two or three billion yuan. In an era when being a ten-thousand-yuan household was impressive, having three billion in cash meant he could buy land and do nothing else.

Shenzhen, Shanghai, Beijing, Guangzhou—he could buy property anywhere. Regardless of the location, this land would bring him incredible wealth in the future. The supercars, clubs, and everything he envied in his past life would be at his fingertips with virtually no risk.

But the reality was, he was still struggling in the United States. Sometimes Carter himself didn't understand what he was thinking.

"How could I? I'm not even forty yet. Life isn't even halfway over. Retiring now would make my life too boring."

"So what are your plans next?"

"Continue investing. After doing this for over a decade, you can't just switch to something else. Plus, I have to admit, making money is addictive. Even though you know more wealth won't improve your quality of life, every time you see those numbers increase, your body releases dopamine. That sense of achievement and satisfaction is more addictive than anything."

Jim chuckled, putting the grilled skewers into the tray beside him, and continued:

"But compared to before, I might be more relaxed in the future. No longer working for any institution, no more early mornings and late nights, becoming an independent investor, doing some investing while traveling. Or traveling and investing at the same time, treating it as a hobby! The world is so big, and while I'm still young, I want to see it all."