Chapter 83: Entering the Stock Market
The two spent the entire day at the ski resort. When they got tired, they would go to the restaurant or cafe for food and coffee. After resting, they would ski again. William quickly became fascinated with the thrill of skiing at high speed. As evening approached, they got in the car and headed back to the villa.
That evening, Alexander prepared a famous Brazilian dish: feijoada, a stew of black beans with various kinds of smoked meat, sausages, pig ears, and pig tails. William found the taste a bit too greasy.
Alexander had been worried that William wouldn't eat things like pig ears and pig tails. To her surprise, William didn't show any discomfort after hearing the ingredients and even said it was delicious.
Some of the Americans in Brian's group were not so quick to accept the feijoada. Most Americans don't eat offal or extremities like ears and tails, and they eat very little pork in general, so they stuck to drinking beer and eating barbecue, leaving the black bean stew untouched.
Alexander watched William eating the feijoada with such gusto. She felt that he was eating so heartily because she had made it for him, and she watched him with a loving gaze, even scooping more onto his plate. She couldn't eat much herself, but watching the man she loved enjoy the food she made filled her heart with warmth.
Watching the couple's public display of affection, the five others eating at the table were left speechless. How were they supposed to enjoy their meal when they were being fed a steady diet of sickeningly sweet romance?
Brian Mills couldn't take it anymore. He stood up and said to everyone, "Who wants barbecue? I'll grill some for you."
"Let's grill it together. I like mine well-done," Sam said, getting up as well.
"Grill two pieces for me, well-done, thank you," William said.
His appetite had doubled recently. After finishing a large bowl of feijoada and two pieces of barbecue, he was only about half full.
"My dear, you can't eat too much at night. It's bad for digestion," Alexander said with concern.
"It's alright, I'm only half full right now. I don't know why, but my appetite has doubled lately, and my strength has increased a lot, too. I've never eaten this much before."
Clarence, the team's part-time doctor, overheard William and asked with a puzzled expression, "Boss, did your strength increase after your appetite grew?"
William thought for a moment, then nodded. "It seems so. I wasn't this strong before. I feel like my strength is several times what it used to be. Clarence, do you know what might be causing this?"
Clarence considered it and said, "Boss, you might be going through a second growth spurt. You're only 20, so it's quite possible. You might even grow taller. Your current situation is consistent with that. When you have time, Boss, I suggest you go to a hospital for a comprehensive check-up."
In truth, William had a good idea of the reason. His body was constantly being transformed by space magic; his bones, muscles, and entire physique were steadily growing stronger. It was only natural for his appetite and strength to increase.
"Alright, I'll go to the hospital for a full-body examination when I get the chance," William said.
After dinner, everyone sat in the dining area drinking beer and chatting. William took the opportunity to learn more about the public figures they were discussing. One of the women in the group ridiculed the current female defense director, Lux McMilan, for being too emotional. She claimed the woman cried over everything—crying when her son went off to school and shedding tears on television from time to time.
The group chatted until 10 p.m. before dispersing. After William and Alexander washed up, Alexander fell asleep in William's arms. She had grown drowsy while listening to the others talk and was already fast asleep by the time everyone went to bed.
Although William was taking a three-day break with Alexander in Switzerland, he still kept a close watch on the stock market every night. Everything seemed to be proceeding exactly as it had in his previous life, which put him at ease. On the evening of the 6th, William called Philips.
"Hello, Philips speaking. Mr. Devonshire, what are your orders?" Philips said.
William held the phone and said, "Philips, your vacation is over. Get the team together. We're back in business tomorrow."
"Understood, sir. We will be ready. See you tomorrow, Philips out," he replied.
The next day, William arrived early at the private room in the National Bank. Ten traders were already there waiting for him. They all had a feeling that William's next move would be even bigger than the last one.
One of Brian Mills's men swept the VIP room several times with anti-eavesdropping equipment. Sam sat at a computer checking the network security. After he gave William a thumbs-up, William nodded, holding a cup of latte as he stood by the window, gazing quietly at the distant forest.
He was incredibly excited. This was the kind of opportunity that came around only once in a decade. If he won, he would win big, because 99% of the world could not imagine the Nasdaq collapsing. The reason was that the trigger wouldn't be technology stocks. Although there were many problems in that sector, the real cause of the tech stock collapse would be a drag from biological stocks. This was a conclusion that experts, with the benefit of hindsight, would only piece together years later.
Seeing William's expression, everyone knew something big was going to happen today. Despite his youth, the serious look on his face created a powerful, somewhat tense atmosphere, and everyone went about their business quietly.
"Mr. Devonshire, there are five minutes until the U.S. market opens," Philips reminded him.
William nodded. "Alright. Tell me the index as soon as it opens."
Five minutes later, a trader called out, "Market open!"
"What's the Nasdaq at?" William asked.
"5043 points."
William thought for a moment but said nothing. Ten minutes passed, and William remained silent. The trader called out again: "5044 points."
William still didn't move. Half an hour later: "5045 points."
"What's the trading volume like?" William asked.
Philips quickly answered, "Trading volume is very low. There are buyers in the market, but not many people are selling."
*Damn, I have to bet on this one.* Having made up his mind, William said decisively, "350 million, full position. Sell short. 3% margin rate, three-month futures."
"What?"
"Am I crazy, or did I hear him wrong?"
"Short the market? How is that possible?" Everyone was shocked. For a moment, no one dared to move.
"Mr. Devonshire, are you sure you want to sell short?" Philips asked hurriedly.
"5046 points," a trader shouted.
"350 million dollars, 3% margin rate, three-month futures, sell short! Immediately! Right now!" William stared at Philips and roared, "Otherwise, you all get out, and I'll do it myself!"
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