Chapter 158: Wings
A dozen minutes after I hung up with Jacob, the news came on. I'd been waiting for something specific today, and as soon as the broadcast started, exactly what I was expecting flashed on the screen.
"Kirstie Allen Dead in a House Fire," the headline read, bold and jarring. The news anchor detailed the tragic event.
Footage of her mansion, engulfed in flames, played on the screen. The fire was massive—thick smoke poured into the sky as firefighters worked to extinguish it.
"Officials have confirmed that a body was found inside," the anchor continued. "The cause of the fire is suspected to be a faulty gas installation. The identity of the deceased is yet to be officially confirmed, but authorities believe it is the actress herself."
The images flickered between charred ruins and the smiling face of Kirstie Allen from her Hollywood days.
Charlotte turned to me slowly. "Is she okay?" she asked, her gaze searching mine.
I glanced at her and nodded. "Yes, she's long gone from that house," I said, keeping my voice steady. I didn't need to say more than that.
But Charlotte's brow furrowed. "Then whose body did they find?"
I kept quiet.
I didn't have an answer I wanted to give.
"Hmm..." Charlotte murmured.
She didn't press any further.
The news wasn't over for the day. Later that evening, I was tuned into CNBC, casually flipping between channels when something caught my attention.
There was an "expert" on, the kind of guy who liked to sit back in his chair and act like he had all the answers. He was going on and on about growth stocks—how people shouldn't be pouring so much money into them because they were "wildly overpriced."
"This could easily turn into another DOT-COM bubble if we keep seeing this kind of reckless investment behavior," he warned. "Investors are chasing hype rather than value."
It was the same tired argument I'd heard before.
"People are dead set on growth stocks for one reason," the expert continued. "It's because they see individuals making insane amounts of money out of thin air. Take Jack Somnus for example," he said. "The man has made 700 million dollars in just two years—starting with nothing. That kind of success story warps people's expectations."
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I chuckled. '
Only 700 million?
'
They're calculating that number just based on my stocks and ownership in Johnson Trading. That number's going to skyrocket after they find out about the FOREX trades.
...
The weekend came and went, but it wasn't a quiet one by any means.
The Ukrainian invasion had pushed Western governments to tighten the screws. They started to impose more severe financial restrictions.
And... amidst all that, Russia came out and made some bold demands.
Those demands were exactly what I was waiting for.
The Kremlin pushed for foreign countries to pay for Russian oil and gas in rubles, not their own currencies, in an attempt to strengthen their own battered currency.
The ruble had crashed hard after the initial invasion, but if those demands were to be met, it would undoubtedly start to claw its way back up.
Russia was also using their reserves in foreign currencies to further boost the ruble.
Traders began betting on a rebound.
All of that was slowly giving the ruble new life.
When the FOREX market opened on Monday, the ruble began to gain strength with a vengeance. The USD/RUB rate started at 36.29 rubles per dollar. By midweek, it was 34.51. Then 33.39.
Russia probably thought that maybe, just maybe, the worst was behind them.
Of course, that couldn't have been more wrong. Creating an artificial demand this way could never last.
But for now, why should I care?
It was time to profit from the war.
By Friday, the ruble had strengthened all the way to 32.41 per dollar and as I sat in my office, reviewing the numbers, I realized just how massive this was for me...
Over Immortal Investment's position and my own, I was up another $1.2 billion.
...
I caught a headline in the Friday news—something about Mikael Burry and his hedge fund, Scion Capital.
'
I almost forgot about it...
' I thought.
Mikael Burry and Daniel Tepper were the two guys that would profit like crazy from the 2008 Mortgage Crisis.
It would be a good time to make contact with them.
Especially because Mikael Burry was probably already looking into the housing market as I sat here.
Both men were already successful hedge fund managers; Burry was leading Scion Capital with assets of around $200 million, and Tepper was an especially massive player with more than $3 billion in assets under Appaloosa hedge fund that he managed.
Those men had a sharp eye for spotting opportunities.
I needed to build a relationship with them.
As I grew into a multi-billion dollar empire, I would face new problems.
Becoming the richest man in the world was just the first goal. If I wanted to take control over the entire world's market, I needed to go beyond that.
The biggest fund management firm at the moment is Vanguard Group. It has $1 trillion under it's management.
Fidelity Investments is worth about $900 billion, and BlackRock is sitting at $800 billion.
Then there are State Street Global Advisors, J.P. Morgan, and Wells Fargo. All at more than $400 billion under their management.
These were not private funds; they managed the money of everyday citizens and smaller to bigger investors, but that did not change the fact that just a dozen of the biggest investment funds were controlling over 40% of the global market and the ownership will only get more concentrated as decades go by.
These funds often communicated with each other, making trades in what's called a "dark pool," which is a private exchange for trading securities.
This way, they could work together and control a large part of the market without fighting against each other. They helped each other out in a mutually beneficial relationship.
And so I had one big problem.
I could not control all the money.
I could not own it all.
With my knowledge, I could control a big part of the world market on my own, but there were limits.
If I tried to do it all by myself, people might say I was trying to monopolize things. That could lead to trouble.
So, I had to do the same thing that those funds were doing. Make friends in the industry.
Sam was one of them.
By making him win against Gabriel no matter what, I will make a long term ally, but that wasn't enough.
It was time to spread my wings.
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...
It was Saturday, March 27th.
I got out of the black limousine at Gainesville airport.
The helicopter's blades were already spinning fast, making a loud whirring sound.
A few men in black were around, making sure everything was safe.
The wind from the helicopter's rotors blew dust around as I approached.
I was going to the second meeting of the Freewinds club.
This time, without a mask.