＜ Prologue. >
2022.
Wall Street, New York
[The Lost 20 Years of Japan, Is It Reproduced in the United States?]
– Washington Post.
[The crash that was bigger than the Great Depression ‘Black Wednesday’]
– The New York Times.
[The Wall Street of Chaos. Notice of large-scale restructuring.]
– The Wall Street Journal.
When I searched for ‘corona bubble’ and scrolled up my smartphone, endless news articles came up on the screen.
When I turned on the SNS, tens of thousands of users were pouring out their anger, despair, and resentment over the large-scale damage through tweets and comments.
“It’s not even a fuss.”
Starting with the crash of the New York Stock Exchange on Wednesday this week, 40% of the New York Stock Exchange evaporated in three days until today, Friday.
Half of the Great Depression of 1929, when 88% had already gone down, was gone, and Wall Street, or America, went into a panic.
Even I, who had been a Wall Street ghost for 20 years, was fired from my hedge fund this morning.
“under…….”
It is unfair.
I knew it was a bubble.
But he just didn’t know when, as prominent investors said.
If it hadn’t been for the burst of the bubble, I would have been looking at the Manhattan building price by now, not as a layoff, but as an express bonus.
The ashes aren’t that bad either.
“If the rate of return is -20%, there is no point in getting fired.”
It was a big project.
In collaboration with hedge fund managers in other departments, one railroad company was carefully worked, wrapped in wrapping paper, and only shipped through the New York Stock Exchange.
Potatoes, high dividends, real estate sales, suck enough to suck up, and normalize the company through restructuring.
The New York Stock Exchange crashed just before the sale.
I ripped my hair out.
“…The stock price will plummet by 60% in one shot. Damn timing, really.”
In fact, it was even before the announcement of normalization due to restructuring.
The railroad company’s market capitalization naturally halved, and so did my career.
He raised his head to the sky and roared.
“Ah, Hudson!”
But my survival instinct, adapted to the wilds of Wall Street, started rummaging through the phone book without my permission.
This novel was posted at https://noblemtl.com
On my smartphone, my personal connections that I had accumulated from the days I worked at JP Morgan until the day before yesterday, when I moved to a hedge fund, were alive, breathing and wriggling.
“JP Morgan, Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs, Quantum Fund, Barclays … Whoo”
Still, looking at the list of connections that are reassuring, it seems that I have not lived in vain for 20 years.
However, because he was also from JP Morgan, just looking at the name JP Morgan made me feel homesick.
‘The company that picked me up from Harvard’s fresh graduate and was like a line of friendship.’
I quickly opened the phone number keypad and entered the phone number of my former boss.
ddu. ddu.
Click.
“The other party is busy. Voicemail after the beep-”
Press End Call.
I called to see if I could pick it up, but now there is no fuss inside JP Morgan.
I quietly walked out of the hedge fund’s headquarters lobby with the box I was carrying from the office.
changgang.
As soon as I went outside, I began to see the protesters occupying Wall Street with the sound of broken windows.
A few days ago, the protesters who had only covered their faces with masks had turned into Luddite mobs with baseball bats and iron pipes.
“Oh, that’s why I didn’t answer the phone.”
A window in the lobby of JP Morgan’s headquarters was smashed in the distance. It wasn’t that he was busy, his life was threatened.
After all, America is a country of rebels.
beep profit-
With the sound of a whistle, NYPD (New York Police Department) police forces poured into Wall Street.
Fully-armed police officers in black uniforms rushed towards the protesters with shields and batons.
“Get off!!!”
When the demonstrators arrived, the demonstrators quickly spread and dispersed.
With how much money Wall Street investment banks are spending, New York state politicians are probably burning their feet.
But it was difficult for me as I had to go through that angry crowd.
“How are you going?”
Can I sleep overnight in the lobby?
My high-end suits like Bonamana and Intelli are just delicious prey for those Luddite mobs.
I had no desire to get my hair pulled out and get three or four ribs out afterward, but I had no choice as far as the protesters were scattered around the streets.
yaah. help me.
But did you say that unlucky people can break their noses even if they fall backwards?
He met the blood-lined eyes of a reliable black man among the protesters.
“YOU!!!”
“shit.”
When a black man pointed at me, a mob of protesters with iron pipes started rushing towards me.
I quickly turned around, but the only thing waiting for me was a cold metal shutter, not a warm lobby.
These bastards cut off their tails?
I was stunned, and I shouted over the shutter.
bang! bang! iron-
“You bastards!”
Inwardly, he asked about his parents in six letters, and hurriedly entered the alley and sprinted.
“STOP!!!”
“If it were you, would you stop?”
This novel was posted at https://noblemtl.com
Oh, it’s scary.
He threw the box he was carrying at the protesters who had come a short distance.
waggle window.
‘Ah…my new Mac (MAC).’
Tears of blood spilled on my doomed MAC, and I speeded up my steps.
snap.
The back of the neck was caught by the hand of an angry black man.
For a moment, there was only one future in my mind.
A future where you will be witch-hunted by protesters who hate Wall Street capitalism.
witch hunt.
witch hunt.
f*ck off.
really die
“Yeah, let’s do it, kids!”
I turned my eyebrows over and struggled to see if my shirt was torn or not.
The hand of the black man who wretchedly grabbed the back of my neck was tightly bound.
In the first place, that reliable big guy and the desk-headed guy aren’t even a match.
“Let go, let go! You bastard!”
I pulled out a fountain pen from my suit pocket.
Don’t think of the Korean protesters.
The United States is a country where guns are legal, and it is a country founded by some of the strongest rebels in history.
If you get caught wrong, it’s not a joke, it’s the real death.
I opened the lid of the fountain pen and held it in reverse.
And I shot it as hard as I could.
hooked. hooked.
“Aww-!”
“Ouch! let it go! Sipal!”
The black man tried not to let go of his hand until the very end. But when I hit the back of my hand with a fountain pen, it threw me off the street like an insect.
aa-
“uh.”
the problem is.
It was the fact that the place where I was shunned was the road, not the street.
I stared blankly at the dazzling headlights of a ten-ton truck approaching me.
As if time stopped for a moment, he met the bewildered eyes of the 10-ton truck driver.
At the same time, tinnitus rang in my ears.
‘……Die!’
I shut my eyes tight.
bang-!
Soon, with an indescribable shock, his mind evaporated to white.
Yoo Sung-shin.
He was 44 years old.
＜ Prologue. > End
