Two o'clock in the afternoon.
In the Executive Office, Takuya Nakayama was scratching his head in frustration, staring at a new game prototype being tested on his computer screen.
Suddenly, the intercom on his desk rang frantically, like a death knell.
Takuya pressed the speakerphone button. Hoshino's voice, unusually strained and urgent, immediately burst through the line: "Managing Director! There's an emergency! I'm coming over right now!"
Less than two minutes later, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Hoshino burst through the door with a loud bang.
He hadn't even stopped to put on his suit jacket, wearing only a thin shirt, with a fine layer of sweat beading on his forehead.
He strode to the desk in two steps and slammed a telex dispatch—still warm with the scent of fresh ink and freshly torn from a Bloomberg Terminal—down in front of Takuya Nakayama.
"Bangkok—they've made a major move!" Hoshino gasped for air.
Takuya Nakayama raised an eyebrow, picked up the telex, and scanned it.
The telex was covered in a dizzying array of English abbreviations and fluctuating numbers.
"The Bank of Thailand has gone mad—they've counterattacked!" Hoshino pulled out a chair and sat down, his words coming out like a machine gun. "Just moments ago, they launched a massive, all-out intervention in the foreign exchange market. They've dumped a colossal amount of their foreign exchange reserves into the market to prop up the Baht. But that's not even the craziest part—they've just flipped the table and sent the overnight lending rate skyrocketing!"
"Oh? How high?" Takuya Nakayama's interest was piqued. He sat up straight.
"Over twenty percent!" Hoshino slammed his hand on the table, his voice trembling. "Some desperate firms trying to close their positions or raise cash are getting quoted an insane twenty-five percent! The entire interbank lending market in Bangkok is in absolute chaos—it's a bloodbath!"
Takuya Nakayama tossed the telex back onto the table and couldn't help but clap his hands. "Tsk, tsk. Ruthless. So they've welded the door shut and are ready to beat the dogs inside?"
"This is a kamikaze defense, completely reckless!" Hoshino leaned back, slumping into his chair as he let out a long breath. His face was a picture of relief, as if he'd just escaped a disaster. "Managing Director, do you realize? If we'd stuck to the Investment Department's original aggressive plan and followed the rest of the herd in shorting the Baht in the spot market... these astronomical interest rates—over twenty percent!—would have sent our position costs skyrocketing. We wouldn't have even needed the Bank of Thailand to crush us; we would've been liquidated in a matter of days! Those Wall Street funds that charged in first might have the capital to withstand it, but I bet their fund managers are smashing desks and cursing their heads off in their offices right now!"
Takuya Nakayama lifted his teacup, took a leisurely sip, and looked at Hoshino with a smile. "That's why, Hoshino-san, your caution and composure saved our Investment Department's skin. If we'd joined those starving wolves in the feeding frenzy, we'd be locked in the cage with them right now, getting bled dry."
"The Large Funds have played all their cards on the table this time. It's pure arrogance," Hoshino said, steadying his breath as he began his analysis, tracing patterns on the table with his finger. "Their reckless fifteen-billion-dollar dump has forced the Bank of Thailand into a corner, making them throw away all pretense of restraint. Raising interest rates like this is a desperate, self-destructive move—a double-edged sword that will cut them as much as it cuts their enemy. Domestic companies won't be able to borrow, their supply chains will snap, and the entire nation's economic activity will grind to a halt. This proves one thing: their actual usable foreign exchange reserves are likely far lower than we previously estimated! They have no real gold or cash left to defend the currency, so they're forced to rely on these extreme monetary policies just to save face!"
"They're desperate. Truly desperate," Takuya Nakayama said, setting down his teacup. A sharp, knowing glint flashed in his eyes. "The more hysterical their resistance, the more it shows they're hollowed out and lacking confidence. This kind of short-sighted, self-destructive measure is like giving a terminal cancer patient a shot of adrenaline—it won't sustain them for long."
"Exactly!" Hoshino nodded emphatically, his eyes rekindling with a fierce intensity. "The major investment banks have enough capital to weather these high interest rates. They're gambling that the Bank of Thailand won't survive another month. But we don't need to gamble our lives against them."
"The Investment Department's preparations over the past six months haven't been in vain," Takuya Nakayama said, standing up and walking to the massive floor-to-ceiling window. He gazed down at the bustling, prosperous streets of Tokyo below.
"The situation is as clear as crystal now," Takuya said softly, his voice tinged with a cold, ruthless pleasure. "Soros has personally entered the fray, and the Bank of Thailand has drawn its rusted bayonets."
"Managing Director, so... we continue to hold our position?" Hoshino rose and walked up behind him, asking respectfully.
"Yes, we keep watching the show." Takuya turned and patted Hoshino's shoulder, flashing a bright, sunny smile that would have chilled any capitalist to the bone. "The tension in the arena is too high right now. It's a chaotic brawl where a wild punch can take down a master. If we step in now, we'll just get caught in the crossfire. Let Soros and his crew bleed the Bank of Thailand dry, let them wear each other down. When the Bank of Thailand has fired its last bullet, when the domestic economy collapses, when the interest rates can no longer be sustained, and the defenses finally breach—"
Takuya raised his right hand and clenched it into a fist, mimicking a harvest. "That's when we, the waiting predator, swoop in to claim the fattest piece of meat!"
Hoshino took a deep breath and grabbed the telex from the desk, his blood boiling with excitement. "I understand! The Investment Department will assign a team to work three shifts, twenty-four hours a day, to keep a dead-on watch on the capital flow in Bangkok. We won't miss a single crack! We'll be ready to follow up with our NDF and SET short positions at a moment's notice!"
"Go on, Hoshino-san." Takuya Nakayama waved his hand and returned to his executive chair, opening a game prototype on his computer. "The show is just beginning. Don't keep our actors waiting."
Hoshino bowed deeply and quickly left the office, the door closing softly behind him.
March arrived.
Tokyo had been plagued by several days of continuous drizzle. The cold wind on the streets of Akihabara still froze the hands and stung the face like a knife.
The shelf layout of the "Video Game Sun" retail store had silently been rearranged again.
Final Fantasy VII, which players had lined up for and fought over two months ago, had now been moved to the regular classics section. Meanwhile, Tomb Raider, which had defied the odds last month with its pure action experience, was still selling steadily.
The manager had opened the store early this morning, not even having time to take a sip of hot tea before grabbing a utility knife to slice open four whole boxes of new stock.
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