The next day, all the money William had made in the futures market safely arrived in his account at the Swiss National Bank. Seeing the balance on his computer screen, he couldn't help but jump for joy. He happily signed ten checks, each worth $7 million, for his ten traders.
After signing an additional confidentiality agreement, these traders eagerly packed up their personal belongings and rushed out. Having been away from home for three months without even making a phone call, they were desperate to reunite with their families. The three who didn't have families had already planned a vacation—beaches and beauties awaited them.
Meanwhile, the National Bank's Vice President, Strong Gris, watched with regret as William handed out the bonuses in the VIP room. He felt like slapping himself. He regretted not following his instinct to allocate funds to follow William's lead after he made his first $32 million. He also regretted not taking William's hint to give him some money to manage.
William hadn't explicitly told him, but Gris could read between the lines. Last night, he had been so angry he couldn't sleep. If he had invested $1 million back then, it would now be $10 million. That kind of return was unimaginable. Opportunities like this were once-in-a-lifetime.
Gris prided himself on being a strong player, but he had missed a golden opportunity right in front of him. Watching others make a fortune while he gained nothing was excruciating.
Gris wished he could empty a clip into the members of the bank's board who had opposed his proposal. Seeing William make over $3 billion while the bank got nothing was infuriating. What made it worse was that the National Bank had bet the wrong way during the crash and lost several hundred million dollars.
After sending off the traders, William turned to see Gris forcing a smile. Amused, William said, "Gris, what's up? Here to congratulate me? It's a pity you didn't invest some money with me back then."
Gris's face twitched, his heart bleeding. But he was on a mission today and had to put on a cheerful face as he congratulated William.
"First of all, congratulations, Mr. Devonshire. You are the most brilliant genius I have seen in my fifty-odd years. No one in England dares call you crazy anymore. Every newspaper in England is debating how much you made during this crash. Journalists are frantically trying to find you, Mr. Devonshire. I, an old man in my fifties, wouldn't have been able to keep my composure. I would have told everyone just to see the faces of those who mocked me."
William understood that Gris was jealous and wanted a piece of the action. The old man was even using the media to pressure him.
Fortunately, there was a confidentiality agreement with the bank. The bank couldn't reveal any specifics due to its principles. However, Gris was another matter. After all, the National Bank was one entity, and Gris was another.
Betrayal has a price. William wasn't confident Gris would uphold professional ethics if the amount was significant enough. For a few million dollars, Gris might sell the details of William's trades to those who didn't know better.
He and Gris had no confidentiality agreement. If Gris did it discreetly, there would be no evidence. With a few million dollars, Gris could retire comfortably.
"Alright, Gris, let's get to the point. I don't believe you came here just to flatter me. But don't push your luck. Enough money can do a lot of things," William said sternly.
Gris, seeing William's tense demeanor and direct words, realized he had been misunderstood. He had no intention of betraying William. He knew that money could be more powerful than authority at a certain level.
Gris deeply regretted his actions. He had only been envious, not foolish enough to completely antagonize William. He quickly adjusted his mindset and smiled.
"Rest assured, Mr. Devonshire. I am a professional. As your contact at the National Bank, I assure you that no one on the board besides me knows your earnings from this operation. I have no intention of threatening you.
"The National Bank has suffered heavy losses in this crash. The board is deeply divided on whether the market will continue to fall or rebound. I know you have a profound understanding of the US stock market. Otherwise, you wouldn't have entered at the peak. I hope you can provide some insights for our bank's future operations."
William looked into Gris's eyes, clear and steady, without a hint of panic. Damn, the old man's acting was good. If it weren't for his mental perception detecting Gris's rapid heartbeat, he might have been fooled.
William pondered. He wasn't afraid of people knowing he made a fortune during the crash because he had already prepared the public months ago. They were ready to accept that he would make a lot of money. He could just hide out in Oxford's castle and lay low for a few years. Time would make people forget many things.
Moreover, he needed to stay low-key. He didn't want public attention focused on him now. Many who lost money and those with ulterior motives would surely slander, insult, and even frame him.
What was more troubling was that the majority of the public was blind. If his achievements were overhyped, every stock he bought would attract hordes of followers. He would be under constant scrutiny by regulatory bodies, affecting his future stock market operations.
Knowing which stocks would skyrocket in the future, only to have regulators delay his transactions under the guise of audits, would drive him crazy.
With that in mind, William had to find a way to appease Gris. "Alright, Mr. Gris, I understand your intention. But Mr. Gris, at this point, even God himself couldn't predict the market's exact movements. No one can know the precise points at which it will rise or fall. Am I right, Mr. Gris?"
Gris nodded. William wasn't a god. Before the crash, he might have found some clues and taken a gamble. But after the crash, no one could predict the exact index points.
"In my judgment, the market will likely see some rebounds at this stage. However, the overall downward trend over the next year or two is irreversible. I believe the US stock market dropping below 2000 points is not a problem at all. It might even fall below 1500 points."
Before William could continue, Gris was scared half to death by his words. Stammering, he said, "How... how is that possible? Your conclusion is insane. The market has already lost over 30% of its value. If it falls to 1500 points, it would lose 70% of its value. My God, how many people would be forced to jump off buildings?"
Gris, terrified by the scenario in his mind, started trembling and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief.
Gris grabbed William's arm in panic, saying, "So you think the crash is inevitable? My God, this is the worst news I've heard in days."
But William was the victor now. Anything he said, Gris had to take seriously.
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