Once the lawyers on both sides revised the terms and produced a new contract, Seok-won reviewed the document and promptly signed it.
Paulson, sitting across from him, also signed the contract before standing up with a smile and extending his hand.
"I hope this investment yields positive results now that the contract is in place."
"It will," Seok-won replied, shaking Paulson's hand.
"When can I start shorting the pound?" he asked as he released Paulson's hand.
"Now that the contract is finalized, you can place your orders anytime," Paulson said, his confident smile widening as he placed a hand on Cox's back beside him.
"Cox here will be your dedicated broker for this transaction."
"I'll be counting on you," Seok-won replied with a slight nod as he began discussing the necessary details with Cox, his assigned broker.
After wrapping up the contract, Seok-won and Landon left the meeting room, escorted by the Salomon Brothers representatives.
As they took the elevator down to the lobby, Landon, who had been holding his tongue until then, quickly glanced around before expressing his concerns with a worried face.
"What are you planning by signing such a contract?"
Landon's pent-up worries, which he had been suppressing due to the public setting, finally burst out.
Unlike the anxious Landon, Seok-won maintained a calm demeanor as he continued walking.
"What's the matter?"
"Are you really asking because you don't know?" Landon frowned, exasperated.
"The margin call conditions and the commission rate—these are very unfavorable terms!"
"I'm aware."
"Yet you still went through with it?"
"They wouldn't have agreed to the leverage I wanted without these terms."
Indeed, without such conditions, the other party would never have allowed a 10x leverage.
Landon, conscious of the people around them in the lobby, lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Was it really necessary to push for such high leverage?"
"It was," Seok-won replied as if it were obvious.
"To make a big win, you need to place a big bet."
Landon bit back the urge to point out that if things didn't go as expected, Seok-won could lose everything in one fell swoop.
"You do realize that with a 7% commission, you'll have to pay $5.83 million every month, right?"
"Of course."
"Unless you have other funds I'm unaware of, your account will run dry in three months."
Despite Landon's serious tone, Seok-won remained composed.
"The results will be in before then, so don't worry."
"…"
This wasn't about unstable currencies like the Mexican peso or the Argentine peso; Seok-won was betting on the British pound.
Although it had lost its status as the world's reserve currency to the U.S. dollar after World War II, the pound was still considered a safe haven asset alongside the dollar.
Landon couldn't understand how Seok-won could be so confident when he was essentially gambling against the pound, which still had a solid reputation.
But since the contract was already signed, it was too late to turn back.
Knowing any further words would be futile, Landon fell silent.
"If this gamble does pay off, it would indeed be a massive jackpot. But the chances are slim," he thought, suppressing a sigh as he climbed into the waiting Cadillac Escalade with Seok-won.
As the car started moving slowly, Landon, sinking into the plush seat, let out a small sigh and asked,
"In any case, it seems your business in New York is all wrapped up. Where are you headed next?"
"Back to school. The fall semester should have started by now. I've almost completed the credits I need to graduate, but skipping any more classes could be risky."
Hearing this, Landon looked at Seok-won with a renewed gaze.
"Come to think of it, you're still a student."
Given his bold and decisive actions, Landon had nearly forgotten that Seok-won was still a student.
"Honestly, you handle negotiations more naturally than I do. I completely forgot."
Seok-won responded with a faint smile.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
***
Two Days Later, Cambridge, Massachusetts.
A yellow taxi came to a stop in front of Kirkland House, a dormitory on Harvard University's campus.
"Keep the change."
Seok-won handed the driver a $50 bill from the back seat, grabbed his Boston bag from beside him, and stepped out of the taxi.
As he walked across the lawn toward the familiar dormitory building, he heard someone urgently calling out to him.
"Young Master!"
Seok-won stopped in his tracks and turned his head to see Sohn Dong-sung, the branch manager, and Assistant Manager Yang Se-jung hastily getting out of a Ford Taurus parked by the roadside and hurrying toward him.
Seeing them running as if afraid to miss him, Seok-won looked puzzled.
"What brings you here?"
Finally catching up to him, Sohn Dong-sung caught his breath and replied,
"We've been waiting for you, Young Master."
"For me?"
"Yes."
Sohn Dong-sung nodded and looked at Seok-won with a slightly reproachful expression.
"Where on earth have you been? We've been camped out here for three days, not knowing when you'd return."
Now that he noticed, both men looked quite disheveled, their dress shirts wrinkled from being cooped up in a cramped car while waiting endlessly for him.
This was a time when not only were cell phones uncommon, but even pagers were rare, so there was no way to contact someone who was out.
But given the chairman's orders, they couldn't return empty-handed, so they had waited outside the dorm without any guarantee of when he'd come back.
Realizing the situation, Seok-won felt a bit guilty for inadvertently putting them through such an ordeal.
"Why? Was something wrong?"
"The problem is with you, Young Master."
Glancing around, Sohn Dong-sung lowered his voice.
"I heard you won the lottery."
As soon as he heard that, Seok-won roughly guessed why they were there.
"Is that what this is about?"
Despite winning over $100 million, Seok-won's reaction was so nonchalant that Sohn Dong-sung couldn't tell whether it was because of his large disposition or if he simply didn't have a sense of the value of money due to his privileged upbringing.
"There are too many eyes here, and it's hard to have a long conversation. Let's go somewhere else."
"Let's head to a nearby café."
Familiar with the area, Seok-won led the way, and the two men quickly followed behind.
At a café not far from Kirkland House, the three men settled at an outdoor table.
Since it was morning, there were only a few customers inside, making the place fairly quiet.
Assistant Manager Yang Se-jung went to the counter to get three café lattes, which he placed on the table before sitting next to Sohn Dong-sung.
Though they had met a few times before and were somewhat acquainted, Yang Se-jung still acted cautiously in front of the chairman's son.
Seok-won took a sip of his café latte and looked at Sohn Dong-sung.
"So you're here to tell me to put the winnings into a trust fund for management, correct?"
Sohn Dong-sung nodded as Seok-won's gaze met his.
"Yes, given the amount, it would be better to have experts manage it rather than leaving it in the bank."
"It's more likely that you're worried I'll blow through the money, so you're trying to keep an eye on me," Seok-won replied indifferently.
Sohn Dong-sung made an awkward expression, unable to outright deny it.
"Ahem."
Clearing his throat unnecessarily, Sohn Dong-sung turned to Yang Se-jung.
"Show him the documents."
"Yes, sir."
Yang Se-jung responded curtly, then took a thin file from the bag on his lap and spread it out on the table.
"We've selected some promising investment options. Please choose the one that suits you best."
These weren't just empty words; the options had been carefully curated.
"Whichever you choose, you won't regret it. They're managed by the PB centers of large Wall Street investment banks…" Sohn Dong-sung was cut off mid-sentence as Seok-won glanced at the file without touching it.
"Sorry for the trouble, but I don't think I need this."
"Pardon? What do you mean by that?"
Sohn Dong-sung blinked in confusion as Seok-won leaned back in his chair.
"I've already invested the winnings elsewhere."
At this, Sohn Dong-sung's eyes widened in shock as he leaned forward.
"You don't mean all $100 million… do you?"
"That's right."
"When did you move that much money? No, more importantly, where did you invest it?"
Showing a grin, Seok-won replied,
"In the pound."
***
555 Madison Avenue, Manhattan, New York.
In the heart of Midtown stood a 50-story skyscraper adorned with elaborate sculptures and decorations, housing the headquarters of the famous Quantum Fund.
The spacious office, decorated in a modern black-and-white style, offered a panoramic view of Manhattan's towering skyline through large windows.
Sitting at the desk in this sleek office was a middle-aged man with an intellectual appearance and a slim physique.
His name was Rodney, the CIO of Quantum Fund and the recognized successor to George Soros, a legendary figure on Wall Street.
As Rodney was flipping through a thick report, the intercom on his desk beeped.
[Mr. Ian is here.]
Straightening his posture, Rodney reached out and pressed the intercom button.
"Let him in."
[Yes, sir.]
A moment later, the wooden door opened, and a blonde man in a tailored pinstripe suit walked in.
"What's the matter?"
Rodney closed the report and leaned back in his chair.
Chief Fund Manager Ian approached the desk, making eye contact as he began to speak.
"Salomon Brothers just shorted $100 million worth of pound sterling in both spot and futures markets this afternoon."
The pound was a significant currency in the international forex market, though not as much as the dollar.
The daily average trading volume for the pound reached as high as $80 billion, so a $200 million trade wasn't an enormous amount.
However, because Rodney and his team were preparing an attack on the pound, expecting that the British government would find it increasingly difficult to maintain the European Exchange Rate Mechanism (ERM), they were particularly sensitive to Salomon Brothers' actions.
"Is Salomon also targeting the pound?" Rodney asked, turning his gaze to Ian, who shook his head.
"It's possible, but I don't think that's the case."
"And why do you think so?"
"I reached out to a contact in Salomon's forex trading department, and they said it wasn't their own trade but a client order they were executing."
"Who could place such a large order at once? Must be someone big."
"They didn't tell me, citing confidentiality."
Ian shrugged.
"If you want, I can dig deeper."
Rodney stroked his chin in thought for a moment, then decided it wasn't necessary.
"No, if we're going to fight the Bank of England, having more allies on our side would only benefit us. Let's leave it be."
"It might be nothing, but it seems a few sharp investors are catching on, and they're starting to make moves. Shouldn't we stop waiting and begin our attack?"
Ian spoke with a serious expression.
"Even if they sense something odd, it doesn't mean the Bank of England will immediately abandon the ERM and devalue the pound. But if they start preparing, it'll be harder to take them down."
Ian's reasoning wasn't wrong, and Rodney nodded gravely before speaking in a calm tone.
"I'll talk to Soros. In the meantime, make sure we're ready to move at any moment."
"Understood."
With a brief response, Ian left the office.
Alone again, Rodney sat back, tapping his fingers on the desk as he gathered his thoughts.
Then he picked up the phone and dialed a number.
The phone rang for a while until a deep voice answered.
[Hello.]
It was George Soros, the founder and CEO of Quantum Fund.
"It's Rodney."
[We spoke earlier, so I assume something must have come up.]
Soros's voice was distant, as he was currently in Hungary for some personal charity work in his homeland.
Rodney adjusted the receiver against his ear and spoke.
"I think we need to start our operation in the UK a bit sooner than planned."
Soros's tone grew slightly more serious.
[Has something happened?]
"Nothing critical, but there are some signs of pound selling starting to appear in the market."
[Hmm. I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone noticed the Bank of England's vulnerability. Very well.]
Soros briefly fell silent before speaking in a dry tone.
[Proceed as planned.]