In the heart of Wall Street, inside a towering skyscraper, sat the headquarters of Quantum Fund.
Rodney, the fund's Chief Investment Officer and its true driving force, stood before a vast glass window overlooking New York's dense skyline of high-rises. A phone was pressed to his ear.
"…At this rate, we're on track to achieve over a 35% return this quarter."
On the other end of the line, George Soros—the CEO and one of Wall Street's most powerful figures—replied in a calm but weighty tone.
[If you'd dropped your pointless caution earlier and ridden the wave, our performance could've been far higher.]
"..."
Rodney's face stiffened. He kept silent, phone still to his ear.
He had long believed the dot-com boom wouldn't last—that stock prices, inflated far beyond corporate fundamentals, would inevitably collapse.
It wasn't a decision he'd made alone. The fund had billions on the line, and he had discussed the short positions thoroughly with George Soros, who had not only agreed but approved the plan himself.
Now, seeing Soros act as though he'd never supported it, Rodney felt a deep pang of disappointment—and betrayal.
Soros, of course, sensed Rodney's resentment. But he deliberately ignored it, as if shifting the blame might wash away his own involvement.
[Your poor judgment has already cost us dearly, but what's done is done. I won't dwell on it. Just make sure you don't disappoint me again.]
A bitter look crossed Rodney's face.
He clenched his fist, then released it slowly before answering in a subdued voice.
"…I'll do my best."
[I'll be leaving Budapest for New York next month. Let's meet then.]
"Understood."
After ending the call and slipping his phone into his pocket, Rodney's face showed clear signs of exhaustion.
He stood silently by the window, staring out at the city below, and let out a long, weary sigh. Then, with a conflicted expression, he muttered to himself.
"I don't think this place is meant for me anymore."
When he'd first accepted George Soros's offer to join Quantum Fund, he'd felt as if he had the world in his hands.
Soros—the legendary hedge fund manager who had once brought the proud Bank of England to its knees, and a man Rodney personally admired—had recognized his talent and chosen to work with him. That alone had filled him with pride.
He'd poured himself into his work, day and night, and over the years, delivered results that matched Quantum Fund's formidable reputation.
Recognizing Rodney's dedication, George Soros had gradually entrusted him with almost complete control of the fund while he focused on his philanthropic foundation. Rodney had taken that as a sign of deep trust.
As a result, both within the firm and across Wall Street, people began to see Rodney as George Soros's natural successor.
Looking at his reflection in the glass, Rodney let out a faint, bitter smile.
"That's when Soros's attitude toward me started to change."
Like a child unwilling to share a favorite toy, Soros began interfering more and more in investment decisions—micromanaging and second-guessing him at every turn.
At first, Rodney endured it out of respect for the man he admired. But when Soros began comparing him constantly to Seok-won—who had grown into a major Wall Street figure in his own right—Rodney found it unbearable.
The truth was, Seok-won had consistently outperformed him, and that stung even more. It wasn't just about pride anymore. It was humiliation.
Now, with this latest incident, even the faintest trace of attachment Rodney had left was gone. He sighed deeply, his expression heavy with resignation.
"There's no point clinging to something that doesn't need me anymore. That would be foolish."
He'd made up his mind. When George Soros returned from Eastern Europe next month, he would hand in his resignation.
After wrestling with the decision for so long, he finally felt a strange sense of relief.
Just then, his secretary's voice came through the intercom on his desk.
[Mr. Ian is here.]
Rodney stepped away from the window and pressed the intercom button.
"Send him in."
A moment later, Ian entered the room, dressed in a gray suit. Rodney raised a hand and gestured toward the sofa.
"Have a seat."
"Yes, sir."
Rodney sat first, taking the center seat, and Ian followed, settling onto the sofa to his left.
"What's this about?"
Crossing one leg over the other, Rodney looked at him expectantly. Ian leaned forward slightly, his tone serious.
"There's something unusual about Eldorado Fund's recent activity."
Rodney frowned. He had just been thinking about Seok-won a moment ago.
"Be specific."
Ian's expression grew even more focused.
"You're probably aware that Eldorado Fund has been unloading large portions of its holdings in companies like Cisco and Yahoo."
"That's old news. Everyone on Wall Street knows that."
Given that Eldorado's portfolio consisted mostly of market-leading stocks—and that they held substantial positions—any mass sell-off was bound to be noticed quickly.
And with Seok-won's every move already under close watch for years—his record-breaking returns the envy of every investor—it was impossible for him to conceal such trades.
There were even traders and funds whose entire strategy revolved around following his positions. The thought reminded Rodney once again of the gap between them, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
But what Ian said next made his expression harden.
"A few days ago, they signed a put option contract with Deutsche Bank—worth well over a billion dollars."
Rodney's head snapped up. "Did you say a put option?"
"Yes, sir. That's correct."
A put option is the right to sell a specific stock or asset at a predetermined price.
Sensing that something unusual was happening, Rodney straightened in his seat and asked sharply,
"What's the underlying asset?"
"Six companies, including Microsoft, Cisco, Intel, and Sun Microsystems," Ian replied.
Rodney furrowed his brow in disbelief.
"All of them are top ten by market capitalization. First they sold off all their holdings, and now they're buying put options…"
He paused mid-sentence, eyes widening in astonishment.
"You're telling me they're betting on a market crash?"
"Judging by reports that they've sold hundreds of millions in Nasdaq futures to Bear Stearns and Credit Suisse, it appears so," Ian said.
Rodney's face froze in shock.
Buying put options and selling massive amounts of Nasdaq futures was an unmistakable bet on a market downturn.
Rodney's mind went back to a few months ago, when he himself had tried short positions but gave up after accumulating losses.
Now, Eldorado Fund—the biggest beneficiary of the dot-com boom, or rather, Seok-won—had unloaded all its positions and was betting on a bubble collapse. The timing was almost ironic.
Ian's expression mirrored Rodney's confusion.
"I have no idea how to interpret Eldorado Fund's actions—they're completely different from anything we've seen before."
"Hmm."
Rodney crossed his arms and let out a low, contemplative hum.
"Based on the positions they're taking, it's clear they're shorting the market…"
Rodney trailed off, and Ian spoke up.
"Could it be that seeing the Fed resume its paused rate hikes made them think the dot-com boom is starting to cool?"
Rodney paused for a moment, then shook his head.
"There was a slight dip right after the hike, yes, but it quickly rebounded. The Nasdaq broke 4,500 and set new highs again—you saw that, didn't you?"
"You're right, the market is still hot. But if that's not the reason, then Eldorado Fund's actions make no sense at all."
"That's true."
Even Rodney had to admit that the Fed's rate hike should have cooled the overheated market.
The problem is the market is so hot that a rate hike alone won't cool it off.
That was why Rodney, despite recognizing the bubble, had given up on shorting and instead rode the uptrend to make profits.
He stroked his chin with a doubtful expression.
"They wouldn't ignore such bad news in a healthy bull market. What on earth are they thinking?"
Ian offered his cautious opinion.
"Perhaps it's overconfidence and greed born from repeated success, prompting them to make an aggressive bet."
In just a short time, Seok-won had achieved astonishing feats, earned a stellar reputation, and won the admiration of Wall Street investors. It wasn't unreasonable to think that arrogance could creep in, as Ian suggested.
Could it be that Seok-won is acting recklessly out of overconfidence?
But Rodney instinctively dismissed that idea. He knew firsthand that Seok-won's success wasn't luck—it was the result of calculated, precise investments.
"That's not it."
"So you're saying they're placing their bets because they're truly confident the market will crash?"
Rodney nodded gravely.
"Most likely, yes."
Ian narrowed his eyes, skepticism etched across his face.
"If that's the case, it seems they're making a major misjudgment this time."
He shrugged and added in a detached tone,
"Well, they've never failed before, so I suppose it was only a matter of time before they slipped up."
It was a natural reaction—most investors were still swept up in the belief that the bull market wouldn't end and that the internet revolution would change the world.
Rodney, too, acknowledged that the market was overheated but didn't think the bubble would burst immediately. After all, he had recently suffered the humiliation of having to abandon a short position after incurring significant losses, so he wasn't eager to believe in another collapse.
If the bubble did burst now, it would leave a lasting mark on his career—a black history that would follow him forever.
Yet, despite telling himself it probably wouldn't happen, the uneasy feeling lingered. Rodney stroked his smooth, shaved jaw in thought before lifting his head to look at Chief Manager Ian.
"If I remember correctly, the position in New York Stock Exchange options—not the actual equities—was about $500 million, right?"
"That's correct."
"Then, just to be safe, let's cut the options by half."
Rodney issued the instruction with careful deliberation.
"Eldorado Fund and Chairman Park have indeed achieved remarkable results, but there's no guarantee they'll continue to do so. Besides, everyone else believes the market will keep rising. Do we really need to take that risk?"
"I suppose… but somehow I just don't have a good feeling. Consider it as taking out insurance."
"Understood."
Ian felt uneasy, thinking that overreacting might eat into their returns, but he knew he couldn't disobey his superior's orders.
"Keep a close watch on Eldorado Fund's movements, and report to me immediately if anything looks unusual."
"Yes. Understood."
Rodney, who had planned to submit a clean resignation and leave Quantum Fund once George Soros returned next month, found his thoughts thrown into turmoil by this unexpected development.
"Haah."
He exhaled deeply, furrowing his brow.
"They're giving me trouble right up to the very end."
TL/n -
NASDAQ surged from around 1,300 in early 1997 to over 3,000 by late 1999.
NASDAQ reached its all-time high of 5,048.62 on March 10, 2000.
NASDAQ fell from 5,048 in March 2000 to roughly 1,100 by October 2002—a decline of nearly 78% from its peak.