TL: Skye
I've been lucky since I was a kid.
Or maybe it was more like having good instincts.
On multiple-choice questions with five options, if I could narrow it down to two, I'd almost always get it right. In high school, I once guessed odd-or-even correctly twelve times in a row and earned the nickname "Odd-Even Ranger".
And I put this talent of mine to full use, riding my guessing prowess all the way into the Economics Department at Korea University.
But that wasn't all. What was the source of my funding for studying in the United States?
None other than the domestic stock market, known as the Hell Market.
During my time at Korea University, I took 37 million won I'd earned from tutoring and, after 108 trades, turned it into 370 million won. That's how I was able to enroll in Duke's MBA program.
Even I got chills thinking about that kind of skill. For a while, I dreamed of becoming a fund manager, but managing other people's money never sat right with me, so I went abroad instead.
However, even someone like me, who fancied himself a master of investing, could only feel small in front of what I was looking at now.
Purchase Date: 1976/03/09. Asset: Vanguard S&P 500 ETF. Principal: $20,000,000. Total Return: $6,506,669,408. Return Rate: 32,507%.
Starting with $20 million in principal, reinvesting about 70% of dividends each time, and ending up with $6.5 billion. An insane return.
The timing of the entry was a work of art too. It was right after the first oil shock, when the U.S. stock market was in freefall.
"H-How is this even possible?"
My jaw dropped at the unbelievable result.
He invested 49 years ago, and it kept going up, and he never sold? Not once?
He held through the second oil shock? Through Black Monday in '87? Through the dot-com bubble? Through the 2008 financial crisis?
"Ha... Haha."
I let out a hollow laugh at this perfect proof of old man Buffett's hypothesis that you could get rich just by buying the S&P 500 and HODLing.
Now I understood how he had dominated San Marcos.
"This makes sense now."
San Marcos was a textbook small economy that earned little and spent little. He'd been covering the deficits with dividends from this account.
Given the enormous amount, handing out envelopes of cash to ministers and high-ranking officers wouldn't have been much of a burden.
'No wonder Major General Thiago charged in without a second thought.'
He must have known about the slush fund.
Still, that reality irritated me a little.
"Why didn't I get any?"
A minister is a minister. I couldn't understand why I'd been left out.
"I like money too, you know."
Anyway, that wasn't what mattered right now.
President Juan, the actual owner of this account, was dead and buried.
He'd lost his wife long ago when he was young, and his only son died alongside him. His relatives had all been captured and executed during the independence movement.
In other words, the money in this account was ownerless. Up for grabs.
"...Should I take it and run?"
I was torn. Should I quietly hold onto it until I could return to Korea, or should I hand it over to the national treasury?
"Could I even take it if I wanted to?"
After a few clicks to check, I found the name on the account.
Tortilha. Corporation. Tortilha Corporation.
The same name as in the documents on the USB.
Being a corporate account made withdrawals look a bit complicated, but with such thorough documentation, it didn't seem impossible.
That aside...
"Why Tortilha, of all names?"
Searching through the files for an answer, I found a name on the shareholder registry attached to the corporate registration: Pessoas Marcos.
"People... Marcos?"
The name of the sole shareholder with 100% ownership.
After a moment's thought, I understood why the company was named Tortilha.
'Ah...'
Tortilha was San Marcos's staple food. The equivalent of rice in Korea.
He'd probably named the corporation Tortilha because he wanted to feed the people their fill of it.
He may have lacked the education and ability to fully utilize these funds, settling for using only a portion of the dividends, but even that was something.
Especially when he had an elite son who graduated with honors from Duke's economics program, went through the MBA program, and had solid practical experience on top of that.
He'd probably planned to pass it on to Ian when the time was right and tell him to realize his vision.
Ian, the young and capable leader, would have used this money as a foundation to fulfill his father's dream of feeding the people.
"I... can't take this."
No, I couldn't take it. How could I swallow money created with that kind of intention?
"Haah."
I sank deep into my chair and closed my eyes, trying to shake off the turmoil churning in my head.
*
The next day, Isabella woke me at eight in the morning as usual.
"Senhor Presidente, gostaria de um café? (Mr. President, would you like some coffee?)"
She made the same joke as always and handed me a cup of freshly brewed coffee.
"Ugh... Thank you."
"You look tired. It seems like you didn't sleep well."
"I had a lot on my mind, so I stayed up late."
How was I supposed to sleep after seeing an account with $6.5 billion? About 9.25 trillion won in Korean money. I woke up several times during the night as greed kept surging up.
But Isabella, unaware of the reason, spoke with concern in her voice.
"Should I have the physician prescribe an IV drip?"
"An IV drip for a little lost sleep? I'm fine."
"Your Excellency is the hope of San Marcos. You must take special care of your health."
"...That's a bit much."
I sat down at the desk, drinking my coffee.
"Isabella, could you come take a look at this? There's something I need to show you."
"Yes."
When she came to my side, I caught the scent of roses, but now wasn't the time to appreciate it.
'Come clean. Come clean and escape this awful torment.'
I wanted to reveal the slush fund as quickly as possible and free myself from this agonizing conflict.
"Try not to be shocked."
I let out a sigh, pulled up the account I'd accessed yesterday, and showed her the screen.
Crash!
Despite my warning, Isabella dropped the coffee cup she was holding, her eyes going wide.
"Wh-What is this?"
"President Juan's slush fund."
"This can't be!"
"He invested $20 million in '76 and never sold once. He even reinvested 70% of the dividends."
"......"
Isabella stood speechless, mouth agape.
"It seems you didn't know."
"I suspected there was other money. But I had no idea there was this much."
"Well, he was famously frugal..."
Unlike a certain someone north of the Korean Peninsula who rode around in a Maybach, this man drove a twenty-year-old Lincoln. He wore the same suits for at least a decade after having them tailored, and he ate the same food as ordinary households.
'What a man. Seems like a villain, looks like a villain, but not actually a villain.'
He was a dictator, sure, but for someone known for his frugality to have been hiding this much money was certainly a shock.
Isabella checked the deposit date and said, "He purchased the securities about exactly one year after independence."
"Now that you mention it, you're right. Where did the money to invest even come from?"
Twenty million dollars today and twenty million dollars in 1976 were worlds apart. It was far too large a sum to be independence army funds.
"I believe this money may have been part of the Portuguese governor's slush fund."
"Really?"
"Yes. My late father told me that when they captured the Governor-General's Office near the end of the war, they found a substantial amount of silver and gold. President Juan used that as the foundation to establish the early government. I suspect he sold some of that gold to create this."
"Hmm... That would be the only explanation that makes sense."
There was no other place the money could have come from.
"What should we do with this money?"
"First, I'd like to hear Your Excellency's thoughts."
"Given the urgent domestic situation, I was thinking we should sell the securities quickly and use them for government finances."
"Hmm."
Isabella shook her head at my textbook suggestion.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"What? Why not?"
"...Do you trust San Marcos's bureaucrats?"
"Ah."
I understood immediately. Even if they were being suppressed under martial law for now, San Marcos's civil servants were a group capable of miraculous arithmetic: take a budget of $100, pocket half, and only spend $50. Entrusting them with $6.5 billion was no different from handing a checkbook to a con artist.
"Then what should we do?"
"Why don't you keep it yourself, Your Excellency?"
"...Pardon?"
Keep it? After all the effort I'd put into shaking off that temptation?
"Are you telling me to pocket this money?"
"I don't mean for personal use."
"Then?"
"I'm suggesting you establish a company using this money as capital."
"A company...?"
"Yes. As you know, San Marcos's economic structure revolves around primary industries."
"Yes, that's right."
On top of that, more than half of those primary industries were coffee production rather than food, so whatever they earned went right back out to pay for corn flour and wheat flour.
'The money from selling coffee beans comes right back around to buy corn flour.'
No matter how the wheel turned, no money ever accumulated.
"If we used this money as a foundation to create a company engaged in labor-intensive business, what do you think would happen?"
"Create jobs and increase national income?"
"Exactly."
She wasn't wrong. If it succeeded, this could be an opportunity to tackle both unemployment and food self-sufficiency at once.
If the business did well, corporate taxes and income taxes could resolve the fiscal deficit in one stroke too.
However.
"Even if we do that, it would still be a state-owned enterprise. Would it really be any different?"
Running a business required people, and the pool of candidates would be the same old faces. That was the problem.
But Isabella was an even bolder woman than I'd thought.
"If it were state-owned, yes. But a private enterprise is a different story. We could recruit talent scattered domestically and abroad, adopt management practices from renowned foreign companies, and run it successfully."
"That's true, but... using government money to create a private company doesn't sit right with me."
"Why not?"
Isabella tilted her head as if wondering what I was worried about.
"Isn't that embezzlement? I think there would be legal issues..."
"Your Excellency is San Marcos, and San Marcos is Your Excellency, so it's not embezzlement at all. If the law is a problem, we simply change the law."
"......"
I am the state. If the law is a problem, we change the law.
My jaw dropped at such a radical plan.
But Isabella seemed to see no issue with it whatsoever and pressed on.
"Now is not the time to worry about procedures or methods. We must think only of national reform and development, and act accordingly."
"B-But still... Won't the people dislike it?"
To my practical concern, Isabella replied with an ice-cold expression.
"Who would dare question Your Excellency's actions?"
"......"
"Please proceed without delay. This is your opportunity to become a ruler with both power and wealth."
"No."
What was I, an absolute monarch? Holding both power and wealth in one hand.