Chapter 31 – The Bearings Scandal (1)

"Mr Miller, please speak honestly."

I spoke with the most serious expression and voice.

Since working under him, I had never been this serious.

"Do you really... think these presents are enough for the children?"

"You know better than I do."

I hadn't realised how irresponsible it could feel to be told to trust myself. I looked at Mr Miller's expression.

Ah, he must be confident because the children played with him while I was away! How childish!!

Just wait. When I go down to Ashfield, I'll show my ten years of experience entertaining younger siblings. I'll make sure they say "I like uncle better" when asked, "Who do you like more, Dad or Uncle?"

Unlike parents, uncles have a significant advantage with children.

Namely, they don't think about the aftermath and just give them whatever they want!

'As soon as I get there, I'll dazzle them with sweet candies and toys. And if I read them my new short story, that'll seal the deal!'

With a perfect strategy that couldn't fail, I collected the items.

But I had to stay in London a bit longer for an unexpected reason.

"So... Scotland Yard sent a formal request for investigative cooperation to Hanslow Jin, the 'writer'? To the publisher?"

"Haha... yes, that's right."

"And it's about stock manipulation?"

"... Yes."

With that, my patience finally snapped due to the absurdity.

"Why would they seek advice from a 'writer' and not an economist?!"

What on earth was happening?

***

"You fools!!"

Gregory Villiers raged like a madman.

His direct subordinates, John and Harold, swallowed nervously and could only bow their heads.

No, he might actually have gone mad.

And it was understandable.

A vast sum, significant even for the Villiers family, the foremost duchy in the British Empire, had vanished into thin air.

"Where? Where did the information leak from?!"

Gregory had no choice but to think that way.

The so-called empire on which the sun never sets, the British Empire, was indeed the most brilliant entity in the world at the time.

However, the British Isles, the origin of this empire, and their primary industry were far too meagre to fully sustain the food needs of this sunlit nation.

Therefore, Britain imported most of its food consumed domestically from cheap plantation farms in Central and South America, particularly Argentina.

If it couldn't be produced internally, it would be sourced externally. This was a quintessentially British decision.

And all this was conducted under the name of Barings Investment Bank.

People could live without money, but not without food, thus making Barings as valuable as a national enterprise. In other words, possessing this bank granted unparalleled power.

Hence, Gregory had orchestrated it.

A coup in Argentina.

Coincidentally, it was a year of poor wheat harvest.

Barings Bank held most of its assets in Argentine government bonds, and when the coup disrupted the food supply, their stock prices naturally plummeted.

Gregory knew.

The British government had to save Barings Bank because of the food issue.

It might involve an enormous amount of taxes, but that wasn't his concern.

If he scooped up the plummeting shares of Barings Bank now!

—Hahaha! Everything was going according to plan! With this, he wouldn't have to worry about Charles and Ada, those troublesome pests!

He had even celebrated, uncorking a cherished French wine he had been saving.

If things continued as planned, his power would rise swiftly.

He would quickly stand as the successor, surpassing his insignificant younger brother and uncle.

Yes… Gregory once had those thoughts.

"What on earth are these bastards doing?!"

He threw the goblet in his hand.

With a clattering sound, glass shards scattered everywhere.

Yet he couldn't easily calm his excitement.

Contrary to his expectations, the government had quickly found an alternative to Argentina.

"Southeast Asia! Southeast Asia!!"

It was an unforeseen development.

Given the distance from Britain, transportation costs from Southeast Asia were more than double those from Argentina.

The problem was... the production cost.

The massive productivity from their enormous population, once a proper route was established, saw distribution explode as if a blocked dam had burst.

It was as if they hadn't been unable to sell because there was no demand, but because they lacked the means to sell.

And prices are naturally set according to production and demand.

Given this situation, the price was, to put it mildly, dirt cheap compared to the Argentine goods, already inflated by Creole labour costs.

It couldn't compete.

"Aargh!!"

And to make matters worse, internal whistleblowers were surfacing, pointing out the mismanagement at Barings Bank, driving it to a situation beyond the rescue of even the Bank of England.

Ultimately, Barings' stock proved there was always a lower bottom, plummeting endlessly into the abyss.

And the entity behind all this...

The Conquistador Spanish Investment Bank.

A phantom company with no tangible presence in Spain.

"Get out now!! No one enters until we find out who these bastards are!!"

"Yes, yes! Understood!!"

John and Harold hurried out. But there was no way they could uncover the phantom company's identity.

There was no information they wanted in the places they were heading to.

The answer lay in a secluded room not easily noticeable in the Villiers mansion from where they had departed.

"Ah, it's incredibly noisy. Do they think they live alone?"

"Young master Vincent..."

The youngest of the Villiers family, Vincent Villiers.

No one anticipated he would become the duke's successor.

Therefore, using the alias of a Spanish company, this boy, who was causing a storm in the London Stock Exchange, gazed coldly at the two servants who had killed him in a past life as they ran outside.

Then, he turned to face the person waiting for him.

"See, I told you it would turn out this way."

"..."

"So, what will you do, Mr Ashburn? I believe I've given my former tutor enough opportunities."

"..."

"Will you remain loyal to the sinking Gregory, or…"

Will you take my hand?

Like a devil, alluring.

Like an angel, beautiful.

The boy's voice deeply resonated in the heart of the economist…

***

London Stock Exchange.

In a corner under the dome, where the sun shone warmly for the first time in a while, men sat smoking pipes and engaging in casual conversation.

"Have you seen this month's issue?"

"Ah, you mean that one?"

"Yes, that one."

"Of course. I even brought it with me."

One man smoothly pulled out a book from his pocket.

In a place where those who ruled the economy of not just London, but the world gathered, this magazine was a hot topic.

It was naturally stimulating and, given the nature of the work, the characters in the stories were oddly relatable to them.

"How could they write something like this…?"

Harrison, the employee who had brought the magazine, murmured in admiration.

Of course, he wasn't a fund manager at the stock exchange, nor did he manage money all day like a banker.

He was merely an administrative officer, common in large corporations.

But even a school dog, after three years, knows "I came, I saw, I conquered (Vēnī. Vīdī. Vīcī)".

Having heard various rumours, he had a rough idea of how money circulated, and this general knowledge made the stories in the magazine seem quite accurate.

And this amplified his interest even more.

You see as much as you know.

The employees took pride in enjoying the realistic reflections of their world in the novel, feeling intellectually superior and thus enjoying it more than others.

Harrison excitedly chatted with his colleagues.

"Just like the short selling of wheat last time, this month's issue was also quite good."

"Yes, yes. Thanks to that, we thwarted Gregory, that bastard's plan."

"Starting a war for their own gain, they come up with ideas even the devil wouldn't think of. They deserve divine punishment."

The Opium Wars? What's that? Is it something to eat?

In their early thirties, they knew nothing of wars that happened 50 or 40 years ago on the other side of the world.

They were too busy surviving to worry about such things.

Thus, Harrison, seeing his colleagues nod in agreement, continued to talk excitedly.

"Above all, isn't it remarkable how they brought Ashburn under their control through this incident!"

"Yes. Although Ashburn is old, he is a seasoned economist and will be a major asset to Vincent's business. Ah~ I envy them, I wish I had such a subordinate."

"Haha, don't be ridiculous. If you had such a capable subordinate, they would be promoted and end up bossing you around."

"What? You jerk."

"Why? Just make sure you submit this month's report on time."

They laughed and chatted, turning the pages of the magazine and discussing their predictions.

So, they didn't notice.

Their supervisor had been watching them with piercing eyes, ready to strike.

Whack!

"Ouch, my head!"

"Harrison. Enjoying yourself, are you?"

"D-Department head!"

"You haven't submitted the documents I asked for, and here you are, slacking off?"

Harrison, meeting his supervisor's angry, devilish gaze, couldn't utter a word as the supervisor snatched the magazine from him.

"Ahem, please continue your discussion."

"Oh dear, it's already time… we should get back to work."

I'm screwed.

Sensing the danger, his colleagues quickly extinguished their pipes and hastily left the area.

As Harrison glared resentfully at them, his supervisor waved the magazine at him.

"I'll give this back when you leave work. And your pay is docked this month!"

"Sir, that's too harsh!"

"Is that something to say when you were goofing off during work hours? Be grateful you're not facing disciplinary action!!"

The supervisor scoffed and said so.

With his spirit crushed, Harrison returned to his work, while the supervisor shook his head and opened the confiscated magazine.

"Jeez. They should just read this at home. Youngsters these days always want the easy way out."

As if I don't want to read it myself.

Of course, thanks to this good excuse, he could read it at work instead of on the way home.

The supervisor secretly turned the pages slowly.

And inwardly, he understood why Harrison had made such a fuss.

Certainly, this chapter was interesting.

If what Harrison possessed was the knowledge of a school's pet dog, then what he had was akin to the knowledge of a headmaster's cat.

His abundant knowledge made the experience even richer. As he turned the pages, gradually reaching the climax,

'... Huh?'

He felt a sense of déjà vu.

As mentioned before, he had supported the London Stock Exchange from behind the scenes for a long time, enough to call Harrison a mere child, and possessed knowledge and information worthy of his position as a manager.

"This... could it be...?"

Therefore, he saw something beyond what Harrison could.

Though the local situation in Argentina was lightly touched upon in the story, it was completely...

'Argentina, if that's the case, this matter isn't Gregory's but rather Gibbs & Sons'...'

Recently, while handling business and conversing with higher-ups, some information had crossed his mind.

The economic depression that had continued since 1890.

The bailout from the Bank of England.

Most of all, the coup d'état...

If, just if, the story from the novel were possible in reality. No... if it had already happened?

"No way!?"

There was trouble.

The manager hurriedly headed 'upstairs' with the magazine.

"Manager! Where are you going?"

"Never mind me, just finish your work! I have something urgent to attend to upstairs and will head straight home after that!"

If his conjecture were correct, this was a matter that could turn the London stock market upside down. He ran so fast that his feet felt sweaty.

And a little later,

The Securities and Exchange Board of the London Stock Exchange issued a comprehensive trading ban on William Lauderdale, the current Governor of the Bank of England, and Henry Hucks Gibbs, the former Governor.