Chapter 271: Money War (1)

Chapter 271: Money War (1)

Sinclair said, as if she'd just remembered something.

"Really. Should I ask my brother to join us?"

An exclamation point appeared above Dolores' head.

There was only one person in the entire Academy that Sinclair called brother.

Vikir.

Dolores tried to picture Vikir's face in her mind.

The first thing that came to mind was the image of bangs, glasses, and an expressionless face.

Attitude, behavior, and way of speaking that seem to have no interest in everything going on in the world. However, Dolores has experienced many twists and turns in her relationship with Vikir.

From volunteering at a orphanage, to festivals, to University Leagues....

In the end, Dolores' ears turned red as she remembered the accident(?) that had occurred at a drinking party.

She ducked her head and buried her face in her papers for a moment, and when she finally regained her composure, she asked.

" ... Is he interested in something like this?"

At Dolores' question, Sinclair brightened.

"Yep. Vikir is very good at this kind of thing, too. He reads all the newspapers all the time, so he knows what's going on in society, and lately he's been very interested in economics, like trade with the natives in the west, and he's been reading all the old economic papers, too, and he's very keen!"

"Yes, there's nothing he can't do, and I'm sure he'll be a great help to you, in fact, he's the kind of fellow who gives you mental strength just by being around him."

Piggy nodded, agreeing with Sinclair.

Dolores thought for a moment, then nodded.

A man of Vikir's character and skill could be trusted without being tested.

"Then, if you see Vikir later, will you tell him that I want him to join our temporary club?"

"Yes!"

Sinclair and Piggy nodded.

"He comes to the library a lot, so I'll tell him if I see him when I'm the librarian."

"Okay, okay. Or, since I'm in the same room as Vikir, I can tell him later in the evening. It's hard to see Vikir's face at school these days."

"Oh, that's right~ Brother, I don't know where you are around these days. Piggy, you're in the same room. Do you know anything?"

"No. These days, I also sign up for late-night self-study, so I often go to my room late. I almost passed out and fell asleep when I went in, so I couldn't pay much attention."

The two chat about Vikir's latest news.

Dolores leaves them and gets up from her chair for a moment.

"Guys, I'm going to go get some stuff. I forgot something at the student council."

"Okay! Bye!"

Sinclair and Piggy replied energetically.

Dolores walked out of the classroom and down the hall.

She had been walking for a while, making plans in her head.

"What?"

Dolores spotted a familiar face in the lobby of the main building on the ground floor, near the soda machines.

Vikir. A face that was hard to see these days.

He was walking with a stack of letters and packages in his arms that looked like he had just picked them up from the post office.

"...Vikir?"

Dolores called out, and Vikir turned around.

He was holding so many letters and boxes that he could barely turn his head.

Dolores asked cautiously.

"Hmm. Do you need help with that? It looks heavy."

"It's okay. It's lighter than it looks."

"...If you say so."

Coincidentally, Vikir and Dolores were headed in the same direction.

They walked down the hallway for a few minutes without speaking to each other.

"...."

"...."

Strangely enough, there was no one in the hallway this time.

When the awkward silence became a little uncomfortable, Dolores spoke up.

"Lots of letters and packages, did you order anything?"

"Not really."

"Then what's all this ...?"

"I don't know. They're from another school, and the post office told me to pick them up."

Vikir was also clueless about the identity of the letters and boxes.

"Can I take a look?"

"Sure."

Dolores asked Vikir's permission and looked through the letters and boxes.

"Perfume, skin lotion, shoes, belts, hats, sunglasses, shirts, bags, fountain pens, ties, wallets, sneakers, hairpins... Oh my God. There's even an artifact I used to hang as a prize in in the university league. And what's this, a carriage key?"

On the outside of the delivery box, there were various stickers indicating the contents.

And most of them had the same sender.

99% of the letters and packages come from the Themiscyra Women's University.

(The remaining 1% came from Varangian.)

"...It's a huge gift barrage. You're so popular?"

'I was only doing what Night Hound said....'

Dolores recalled the past not long ago.

At the very beginning, Night Hound had given Dolores an order.

'Among the people who have made a name for themselves in the financial world, try to pick out about 10,000 people who have thin ears.'

'And ...?'

'Send a letter to 5,000 people, half of them, stating that 'OO stock' will rise tomorrow. And send a letter to the remaining 5,000 people stating that 'OO stock' will fall tomorrow.'

Dolores worked quickly.

Compiling a list of people and sending letters to them all was a labor-intensive and expensive task.

Piggy, who had a knack for gathering and analyzing information, compiled the list of financial figures, and Sinclair, who had a knack for secretarial and office work, took on the task of sending a total of 10,000 letters.

...And indeed, the next day, the "OO stock" went up in value.

Then Night Hound immediately gave his next order.

"Take the 5000 people who sent you a prediction yesterday that the price of stock 'OO stock' will rise, divide them in two, and send 2500 people a letter saying that the price of stock 'XX stock' will rise tomorrow, and send the other 2500 people a letter saying that stock 'XX stock' will fall tomorrow.

The next day, "XX stock" is down in value.

This time, Night Hound gave similar instructions.

'Divide the 2500 people who sent you a prediction yesterday that the price of 'XX stock' would fall, and send 1250 people a letter saying that the price of 'YY stock' will rise tomorrow, and send the other 1250 people a letter saying that 'YY stock' will fall tomorrow.'

The next day, it was the same story: Stock YY went up in value.

Night Hound gave the same instructions.

'Divide the 1250 people who sent you a prediction yesterday that 'YY stock' will rise in value, and send 625 people a prediction that 'LL stock will' rise in value tomorrow, and send the other 625 people a prediction that 'LL stock' will fall in value tomorrow.'

And so on and so forth.

Since stocks are either down or up, the Oracle Investment Club's predictions continued to be half right.

After a week or so, the number of people to whom stock predictions were sent was down to about thirty.

And around that time, the Oracle Investment Club began receiving a huge number of people visiting.

"Hey, we're here! Is this Oracle?"

"You've been predicting the stock price for seven days straight!"

"It's a prestigious Academy, so it must be different!"

"This is where all the tweezers stock geniuses are!"

"Please, please, let me have my money!"

"I've sold my house and everything, I really want to invest!"

.

.

Since the stock price has been correct for a week in a row, it's hard not to believe.

By the end of the week, the last people to receive the letter were already fanatical believers in Oracle.

It had even gone viral, and the number of people gathering was growing.

When the investment prediction letter first arrived, those who received the wrong letter quickly forgot the name Oracle, and those who guessed correctly became interested.

The investors gathered in this way were unaware that they were selected by probability.

At that point, Night Hound threw up their game.

'Tell them you'll double their money and take the investment money.'

Dolores did just that.

Night Hound took the money and invested it in a trading company run by a trader named Cindiwendy.

The company traded with the natives of the western jungles, an area where people rarely invested because the risks were as great as the rewards.

and Night Hound was spectacularly successful.

Cindiwendy had succeeded in trading in the tertiary sector and was paying out huge dividends to its investors.

'I told you, I have a friend with a lot of money.'

At the Night Hound's words, Dolores could only open her mouth in disbelief.

At best, she thought, he'd get or borrow money from a rich friend.

This was far beyond her imagination.

Piggy and Sinclair marveled at the pile of wealth.

"I didn't know you were so keen on investing! If this gets out, it will probably change the commercial laws of the empire, hahaha!"

"Indeed. At this rate, the Bourgeois Family will have no choice but to show interest."

It's not just how much money you make, but how you make it.

The students at the academy were pooling their pocket money and using clever (and slightly fraudulent) methods to attract huge amounts of investment, which they then re-invested for huge profits.

The results were shocking, and there was nothing suspicious about the process.

What brilliant creativity, and sparkling talent!

Who wouldn't want to meet these young investment geniuses?

No wonder the Bourgeois is drooling over them.

"...."

Dolores smiled faintly at the overjoyed Piggy and Sinclair.

'Don't ask questions as a trick (?), recruit fanatics and then use insider information to fight. This isn't something you've done once or twice....'

It is still too early to be happy or surprised.

The plan was only just entering its halfway stage.

Operational forces.

A sword aimed at the Bourgeois family, the kings of the business world.

'... I wonder what he's doing.'

Dolores began to become more and more curious about the identity of Night Hound.