Wall Street of the third generation chaebol

＜ Coca-Cola. (2) >

December 1897. Massachusetts state.

Groton School.

ha……

“I’m going to go back to school at this age.”

burleung-

The car engine turned off.

I grabbed my personal bag and got out of the car. Looking around slowly on the lawn, most of the red and green European-style buildings surrounding the campus were familiar to my eyes.

The highlight among them is the Gothic church.

‘St. John’s Chapel, long time no see.’

My alma mater in my previous life.

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Of course, unlike the 21st century’s Groton School, it was newly built, so the buildings on the campus flashed like new ones, but some of the iconic buildings, including the church, looked almost identical.

I don’t know about the inside.

bang.

James got out of the car and grabbed a briefcase from the seat.

“Master, I’ll be processing the paperwork in the office, so would you like to go to the dormitory first?”

“Please. Was the dormitory the building next to the principal’s office?”

It’s been more than 20 years since I graduated, and my memory is hazy.

While James went to do the paperwork, I packed my suitcase and followed my vague memories into the dormitory building.

The dormitory was a double room.

“I don’t have a roommate….”

I leaned towards a visit to the dormitory.

The room was overall neat and tidy. The roommate’s bed and desk were also arranged like a soldier, but a large book lay on the desk like a dissonance.

I looked at the book out of curiosity.

“……stamp?”

Turning through the thick bookshelf, each page was packed with rare stamps.

Groton School, dormitory, 1882 same age, thick stamp book.

“Hey, maybe.”

nope

For a moment, a creepy family flashed through my mind, but I pretended not to know and unpacked my luggage. While I was sorting out the piles of papers in my suitcase, I suddenly remembered something important.

“……Can I call the dormitory?”

there shouldn’t be

As a major shareholder of Coca-Cola, a phone is a necessity, not an option, if you want to proceed with your future work with Candler.

Coca-Cola’s Chairman was also looking forward to it.

In the future, the dormitory is going to be my office, but without a phone, it is quite difficult.

But then he laughed.

Isn’t there a phone in this expensive, prestigious private high school? Putting all unnecessary worries aside, I dived into the soft bed as it was.

Whoops-

“It’s soft…”

smart.

Before he could even warm the bed to his body temperature, someone knocked on the door.

I frowned and raised my upper body.

“Who is it?”

puck.

As soon as I opened the door to the dorm at the sound of a knock, a white freckled, orange-haired white man came running in and smashed a cake the size of a face on my face.

The cake stuck in my face fell to the floor.

“Pop! Poop! Hugh! ……what?”

“What is it! Morgan, it’s a discharge cake, man!”

The orange-haired Irish boy chuckled.

It was, unfortunately, a face in Morgan’s memory to ask.

“Kris.”

“Ah, I told my grandmother that a friend was leaving the hospital, and she sent me a cake by freight train. Is it delicious?”

“…..Oh My God.”

I wiped my face.

Wouldn’t it be 100% spoiled if the cake was delivered by freight train?

Damn Irish people may eat cakes with their faces, but at least normal Korean Americans chew them with their mouths.

Besides, it’s a cake aged with coal-fired steam.

‘Kris. It’s because we’ve been together since middle school.’

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Oddly used to it.

“It’s nice to see Chris after a long time. Maybe you didn’t even put lead charcoal into the cake?”

“Hey, no matter how much my family is from a mafia family, I don’t have a hobby of putting lead charcoal in a cake.”

“……”

“You don’t believe it? If you do, you will bake the cake with brain water sprinkled with gatlings.”

Mafia humor?

My gaze involuntarily turned to the bulge over Chris’ hem.

…….Pistol?

‘You just overtaken Jack Morgan to rise to number one on the blacklist.’

congratulation.

I shoved Chris’ cheek against me with my hand.

“go away.”

“Eupeupeup…Oh? Is it a Coca-Cola bottle?”

The Irish Mafia, who chewed my words like a rag, pulled a Coca-Cola glass bottle from my luggage.

Then his eyes began to twinkle.

“this…..”

“What is Coca-Cola? Would you like a drink?”

“Would it be effective for Raimi (UK) guys to break the pot? I can send it off in one shot.”

“Gimme it, you crazy bastard.”

This madman thought he was going to do it, so he confiscated a Coke bottle from Chris’s hand. In fact, there were a lot of students from England studying at Groton School.

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Of course, my heart understands Chris a hundred thousand times. The way Irish people view British people is almost the same as modern Koreans view Japanese people.

I can understand the feeling of wanting to break it just by looking at the pot.

I understand, though.

‘But breaking with a Coca-Cola bottle crossed the line.’

the brand value decreases.

When I took the glass bottle from Chris’s giggling beast, I cried like a child whose parents had stolen my new money.

Psycho child.

“…Morgan?”

“yes?”

While I was arguing with Chris over the glass bottle, I turned my head to the voice I heard from the door.

Then a white man ran into the room at the speed of light.

“What motherf*cker fed my girls cake?!”

He hurriedly glanced at the large bookshelf.

I opened my eyes to the familiar face of urgently sorting out the stamps and stuttered my father.

Chris, who was arguing with him, lit up his eyes.

“me!”

“You damn mafia! Get out of the dorm right now, duel-”

Startle.

Franklin’s gaze fell for a moment on Chris’ puffy trousers, then rose, and his face turned pale.

Cancer, unconditional surrender in the face of lead bullets of justice.

Chris chuckled and patted his inflated trousers.

“duel? really?”

“……I’ll just skip this one time.”

“Hehe.”

Chris smiled brightly.

Franklin nervously pulled out a luxurious black eyeglass cleaner from his pocket and wiped the stamps with care as if he were a baby. Was the stamp book his?

I barely opened my mouth.

“Franklin Delano… Roosevelt?”

“Morgan, FDR between roommates is too hard. Just call me Frank.”

“…..okay.”

is it real

I lost my mind at the unrealistic sight of the future America’s first and last four-term president to call me by my nickname. Besides, you’re a roommate?

However, Morgan’s body was accepting this situation in a very, very normal way.

‘Roosevelt and I have been together since middle school. Have you recently become roommates?’

The future 4th term president of the United States and his contemporaries.

Roosevelt’s halo in a ruffled shirt shimmered in the figure of the giant who ruled World War II.

I rubbed my eyelids harshly.

“……I’m going crazy.”

“If I have a headache, will you take me to the hospital? Anyway, it’s the weekend, so it’s free.”

“Where? Don’t just hang out with the New York Yankees, I want you to join me too.”

“Shut up, Mafia.”

Roosevelt growled at Chris, calling him the enemy of the stamp.

‘By the way, Roosevelt was also from Hyde Park, New York.’

His father, James Roosevelt, served as vice president of the Delaware & Hudson Railroad and even owned a private train.

In a word, it’s an amazing diamond spoon.

‘Well, I’m not talking about Morgan House.’

Roosevelt and Chris.

Unsurprisingly, I felt that the children of Groton are among the top 1% of Americans. These are the people who will lead America in the future. This is your chance to become a network king.

‘…The King of Networks?’

In an instant, an idea flashed through my head like a lightning bolt.

The Detroit Morgan I possessed is a high school student, so it’s hard to get public credibility in the financial world, but if I get the network of the Groton School diamond spoon, the story is 180 degrees different.

Club.

A social church in the form of a club organized by upper-class members of the United States to build friendships. If I can attract diamond spoons to the club, rumors about the club and me will reach the ears of DIA. It’s a trick, but the club is effective at building trust in the financial world.

I smiled sly.

“Are you guys planning on joining me if I make a club?”

“club? What club?”

“me! I’m coming in! me! me!”

I looked at Roosevelt while suppressing Chris, who was running like a beagle.

“I’m planning to start a club that manages a fund.”

“fund? Are you talking about funds? If it is a volunteer club, I am welcome.”

“No, it’s an investment club. It’s the Wall Street Yankees screaming whale whales at the New York Stock Exchange.”

“Morgan, your home ground.”

Rejected by me, Chris, who had spread somberly on my bed, lifted his head.

“I have a lot of money. I am the only child from a devout Catholic family.”

“A devout Catholic family with a mafia theme?”

Frank waved his hand, saying no to nonsense.

But when Chris silently pulled out the rosary from under his shirt and showed it to him, Frank, with his eyes wide open, called the flag.

I sat upside down in my chair and smiled sly.

“To be precise, I plan to use a fund that is invested only by a small number of wealthy students in the New York Stock Exchange. It is a kind of social experiential learning activity.”

“What if the size of the investment becomes huge?”

“Then we should give up on the New York Stock Exchange. If we catch the eyes of Wall Street giants including railroad companies, we will be thoroughly trampled.

“Then how do you plan to use it when it grows bigger? Do you have any countermeasures?”

“The New York Stock Exchange is not the only answer. When the size of the fund grows, there are ways to do mergers and acquisitions, equity investment, or block deals directly. You can start your own business.

“Umm…”

It was frustrating, but there was no way to explain hedge funds to Frank.

Since there were no private equity funds yet, it can only be explained as a ‘fund that collects and manages the investment of a small number of wealthy people’.

Frank frowned, perhaps not convinced.

“Morgan, as you said, let’s say we made a fund (FUND) by collecting an appropriate amount of investment. But was the New York Stock Exchange a soft place where the ‘social experiential learning activity’ clubs you are talking about could survive? Just looking at the name of a vicious capitalist like Jay Gould would make me pee.”

“Is my father Morgan?”

Frank shut his mouth at my words.

After all, what kind of cowardly psychopath would dare to touch Morgan House? Wouldn’t Morgan run away from incontinence if only the letter ‘mo’ appeared?

Chris chuckled and patted Frank in the side with his foot.

“The New York mafia was here.”

“……”

“I agree! Am I the number one club member!”

“I haven’t submitted a club application yet.”

Chris and I arguing.

Frank thought deeply, then pulled out a wad of papers from the desk drawer.

Then he dipped his finger in saliva and started counting the sheets of paper.

palak palak

“One, ten, one hundred, one thousand…”

I opened my eyes and pointed my trembling finger at Frank’s wad of paper.

“Frank, am I wrong or are they all checks?”

“Yeah, a check for $10,000, because my parents gave me a lot of money so I didn’t have to worry about living expenses.”

$10,000 for living expenses?

While I was stunned by the New York Yankees’ shocking economics, Chris gave a thumbs up.

“…as expected, the dignity of the exclusive train.”

“Chris, please shut up.”

Is it a check worth ten thousand dollars?

If the value of 10,000 dollars at the end of the 19th century is converted into modern dollars, it is equivalent to about 300 million won. I nodded my head in agreement with Chris.

The cost of living for a high school student is only 300 million won.

“Private train…..”

“ah! Morgan please. Won’t you become a Christian too?”

For reference, on the day he entered Groton School, Frank appeared in his parents’ private train.

Should it be said that it is the dignity of the family of the vice president of a railway company? I stuck my tongue out at the scale of the continent.

“With the initial capital of $10,000, it overflows. Frank, I’ll make you a million dollars in a year.”

“really?”

“Joke.”

“Twitter.”

Roosevelt grunted and put a bunch of checks in.

‘Well, I don’t know about a million dollars, but maybe 100,000 dollars?’

In fact, a ‘hedge fund’ was a perfect concept to be sold as a scammer if you threw it away as an advanced culture to the beasts of the current Wall Street.

Because there was a time when I thought of risk management (Hedge) as something like athlete’s foot that gnawed at my profits.

Frank slumped over on the bed.

“Morgan, then what are you going to name your investment club?”

“name?”

It’s the name of the fund.

After all, if it’s a fund, that’s the only thing, right? There was only one name that came to my mind.

“The Hedge.”

“Hedge? That’s a good name for Wall Street.”

“No, not a fence, but a hedge in the sense of managing risk.”

Frank tilted his head.

Look. For the New York Yankees, the concept of risk management sounds like chewing gum.

“Even when it comes to risk management, I don’t intend to put it in safe assets just like playing a house. Risky assets are usually hedged with risky assets. Conversely, if you short the leverage, the total will be 0, right? You can leverage the one going up and short the one going down.”

“……”

“Or you can invest using the gap between stocks with the same trend line. If it’s a ‘safe investment’, then hedging it, Frank.”

“…I understand what it is.”

Long-short strategies rarely fail.

The reason hedge funds rose to stardom was because of this long-short strategy. And just because it was a hedge fund, it didn’t have to be tied to that method.

First of all, it is only a hedge fund in its basic form.

‘At the end of the 19th century, the early 20th century, the US stock market or industry was a battle of demons.’

To survive among the behemoths of trusts, railroads, and corporate hunters, you don’t have to stick to the hedge fund style.

There is no such bill in the U.S. financial law as of yet.

‘Kwon Mosulsu (權謀術數). It does not choose any methods and means available to the end.’

Frank saw the value of hedge funds at once, as he was a cotyledon that would serve as president for as many as four terms.

This novel was posted at https://readwn.com

Our Irish-American Chris, on the other hand, pondered and pulled out a check with a grim face.

“One hundred thousand dollars.”

“…Wait, Chris what?”

“I will invest 100,000 dollars first. If you need more, tell me, because black money rotting friends are all over the place. If it’s the ‘private equity fund’ you’re talking about, there’s nothing to be found, right? It’s perfect for laundering money.”

“…..Oh, f*ck. Kris.”

It’s black money.

Maybe Chris was also embarrassed by my reaction, so he started waving his hand and hitting the shield hard.

“Morgan, don’t worry about black money. We’re soft, so we don’t break the law.”

“…..”

“It’s thrifty, it’s thrifty.”

That’s what all tax evaders say.

I took a deep breath.

‘Honestly, it doesn’t matter.’

The investment club I want to establish this time is a hedge fund that I want to manage like my father, so black money is not a big problem.

Even if it is the modern United States, American law at the end of the 19th century had more loopholes than I thought. As long as they didn’t turn people into minced meat with gatling, it was usually legal.

Well, it doesn’t matter if the back is a bit messy, because there is a panacea called Lobby in America.

‘That’s not the problem. First of all, whether you are doing a fund or trying to chew Wall Street, you have to roll the Coca-Cola Company cash cow properly…’

It would be nice to have a big deal with anywhere.

How to reliably extract cash from The Coca-Cola Company. No, just when I was thinking if I could create it, Frank called me.

“Morgan. If you’re looking to recruit investors, here’s a good one.”

Frank rummaged through his arms and handed me an invitation.

“It’s an invitation my father gave me. If you’re interested, would you like to attend as my representative? It’s a charity party hosted by the first lady of the president, so it’s perfect for networking.”

President’s First Lady?

I opened my eyes at Frank’s suggestion.

＜ Coca-Cola. (2) > end