69novels Chapter 33 | There's always a clown who jumps out.
Chapter 33 | There's always a clown who jumps out.
After the long article from Gamestart was published, its popularity rose even faster than Cao Yisen had imagined.
But the one who really added fuel to the fire wasn't him, but the organization.
That day, someone posted a link to a water pipe on the forum, with the title in all capital letters:
A hedge fund founder commented: "Gamestart is a worthless stock, worth at most $20."
Immediately following this is a line of smaller print:
"Brothers, this guy specifically called us 'a bunch of gamblers,' so we can get him involved."
Cao Yisen clicked on the link. The video cover featured a middle-aged man in his fifties with his hair neatly combed back, wearing a dark blue suit, sitting in front of an expensive-looking bookshelf.
The following text appears in the bottom left corner of the screen:
Harold Grey, Founder & CIO of Greyhawk Capital
"The name matches the color scheme of his study quite well." Cao Yisen leaned back in his chair, put on his headphones, and started reading.
At the beginning of the video, the host asked a couple of polite questions before immediately getting to the point:
"Gamestart, a company that retail investors have been paying close attention to lately, has also seen significant stock price volatility. Mr. Grey, what are your thoughts on this?"
Harold Gray smiled, revealing that "I've seen it all" kind of smile.
"Let me start by saying something honest," he said in a typical Wall Street accent, "I stopped touching companies like Gamestart back in 2015. In my son's words, it's a 'fossil from the last era.'"
The host smiled knowingly and asked, "So, how much do you think it's worth?"
"Twenty," he said casually. "Twenty dollars is already a very generous estimate for me."
After he finished speaking, he paused deliberately for a moment before slowly adding:
"Of course, I know there are some very... creative 'analyses' online that claim there is a huge investment opportunity here, and even incite retail investors to 'fight a war' against professional institutions."
"Are you referring to some posts on Rebbit?" the host asked.
"Yes." Harold spread his hands. "I respect everyone's right to express their opinions. But we must remember—the market is not a video game. This isn't a place where you can change cash flow and profit and loss statements by just spitting out opinions on a keyboard."
As he said this, the corners of his mouth curved up again:
"These people think they're overturning the rules of Wall Street, but they're actually just creating liquidity for smarter traders. Once the hype dies down, they'll find that all that's left is a bunch of shares they themselves bought at inflated prices."
The host asked with a smile, "So what advice do you have for these retail investors?"
Harold leaned forward slightly:
"Read less about Rebbit and more about financial reports. Don't bet your life savings on a story written by an anonymous account on some forum."
"You mean those so-called 'in-depth research DDs'?"
"Yes, I've read a few." He nodded. "Some of them are more exciting than novels, but they're still novels after all. As for that... ah, that 'quantitative writer from Seoul' thing," he deliberately pronounced the nickname SeoulQuant_21 in a slightly strange accent, "I sincerely wish him good luck, but I'd rather trust my model than those funny memes he posted."
The host laughed: "So your point is—"
"Gamestart's reasonable price is around 20, and we remain firmly bearish."
Harold said calmly, "We have already built up a considerable short position, and if prices continue to be irrationally pushed up, we will simply add to our position at better entry points."
At this point, the video split in two, with Gamestart's real-time stock price curve displayed on the other side of the screen.
The host summarized: "Retail investors are in a frenzy, while institutional investors remain firmly bearish. In the end, one side will have to be proven wrong in this game."
Shortly after the video was released, Greyhawk Capital's official channel posted several more clips:
Gamestart: A Business Model Heading Towards Liquidation
Why Short Selling Isn't an "Evil Conspiracy," but Rather a Market-Needed Behavior
FOMO and Gambler's Mentality among Retail Investors
Every title seems to have been carefully chosen, both criticizing Gamestart and taking a jab at the Rebbit team.
The forum's response was almost instantaneous.
The following is a string of comments:
【u/YOLO_420】：
He said it's worth 20? Okay, then we'll send him 200.
【u/diamondHands69】：
"Read Rebbit's financial statements more than it reads"
Okay, sir, then you should spend less time looking at us and more time looking at Pingkong.
【u/apeTogetherStrong】：
Bro, this guy just called us gamblers, and he even named SeoulQuant_21.
I don't believe there's anyone in the world better at gambling than a fund manager.
Someone even made a meme, photoshopping Harold's image onto a fat pigeon, with the caption:
"This pigeon thinks we'll sell."
The post was getting more and more popular, and discussions about Gamestart were becoming increasingly frequent.
Some people started compiling a list of short sellers, adding Greyhawk Capital to it; others dug up screenshots of news articles about Harrods being proven wrong when it shorted other stocks; and many more started posting one message after another:
"I originally only planned to buy one share, but now that this guy is so arrogant—I'll buy more."
It was already midnight in Seoul. Cao Yisen sat in front of his computer, browsing forums while watching the constantly refreshing comments below the video.
One line is particularly eye-catching:
【u/whyAreWeStillHere】：
"I don't understand financial statements, but I do understand a little bit:"
Every time a fund manager with such overflowing confidence goes on TV to mock retail investors, a bunch of documentaries are produced afterward.
He couldn't help but laugh out loud; this was exactly what he wanted.
He doesn't need Greyhawk to go bankrupt right now; what he needs is—
There's an annoying villain with a huge face who steps forward and focuses all the retail investors' anger on one point.
"Thank you, Mr. Harold," Cao Yisen thought to himself. "You're more effective than ten of my DD articles."
Of course, what needs to be done, what needs to be said, and what needs to be "set the tone" still need to be done.
He switched back to his original username [u/SeoulQuant_21] and added a long comment under his original Gamestart DD post:
【u/SeoulQuant_21】：
I watched the Greyhawk video.
A few minor additions:
He said Gamestart is only worth 20.
These figures are calculated using the "traditional discounted cash flow" model. No problem, his approach is the textbook answer.
The problem is that prices are now determined not by textbooks, but by "market value".
His model only included profitability, without mentioning a single line such as, "Short positions are close to 100% of the outstanding shares, or even more."
When someone holding billions in short positions goes on TV and tells you, "Everyone calm down, this is just a bubble," you should first ask yourself: Is he truly calm, or is his hand just shaking?
I don't recommend anyone go all in just to "slap him in the face." But if you're already planning to enter the market, remember this: the longer you drag it out, the worse it is for him. Interest is calculated daily, and margin requirements are calculated daily; every day puts pressure on the institution.
We have no obligation to save the market, nor does he have an obligation to make money for us. This game is very simple—it's about who makes the first mistake.
Let me say it one last time:
This is not financial advice.
However, I personally still look forward to the day when he sits there in a documentary and says:
"At the time, I really thought they wouldn't hold on to it forever."
This comment was quickly upvoted and received many likes.
Someone added insult to injury below:
【u/YOLO_420】：
"Time is on the side of those with cash."
Thank you. For the first time in my life, I feel that not having much savings has its advantages.
Another person simply threw out a sentence:
【u/apeTogetherStrong】：
He has the PowerPoint presentation, we have the MEME. Let's see who's more valuable this time.
Mike wasn't idle either.
About ten minutes later, Cao Yisen's Kakao lit up.
[Mike]: Have you seen that Greyhawk guy?
[Mike]: He just posted a video, and several people on our trading floor are cursing him.
[Mike]: It's not because he's bearish, but because he's so high-profile.
[Mike]: "Look how smart I am, I am the voice of rationality in the market."
[Mike]: As everyone knows, these kinds of people are either incredibly powerful or they die a particularly gruesome death.
Cao Yisen replied:
[Ethan]: So what's your internal perspective?
[Mike]: Some people have already started betting on him crashing.
[Mike]: But nobody dared to speak too loudly.
[Mike]: What about you over there?
Ethan: On my end?
[Ethan]: The forum has already started turning his profile picture into memes.
[Ethan]: You guys look at financial statements, they look at faces.
[Ethan]: But in the end, everyone is looking at the same thing:
【Ethan】：His funding curve.
That night, Cao Yisen reviewed Gamestart's intraday price movement and options chain changes again.
Trading volume is increasing, with bulls and bears seemingly pulling on a rope, causing prices to swing back and forth within a range. Posts about Gamestart on Rebbit are popping up one after another, reaching the top of the homepage.
Greyhawk's videos "mocking retail investors" were edited into various versions:
Someone made that into a parody video, looping the phrase "only worth twenty" for a whole minute.
Someone posted a large sign that read: "This aged well (Let's wait and see)";
Some people even wrote directly in the comments:
"Brothers, this isn't a video, it's material for a future review of margin calls."
After reading it, Cao Yisen closed his laptop. He knew very well that the real climax was yet to come.
Everything we're doing now—writing DDs, stirring up controversy, getting some self-important fund manager to jump out and play the villain—is just paving the way for that moment.
At that time, Gamestart's K-line will be like in the previous life, suddenly rising from a range that no one believed to a height that will leave everyone dumbfounded.
Harold Gray's line, "It's only worth twenty," will become one of the most frequently repeated lines by retail investors.
"Thank you, Mr. Twenty."
"Without you, we wouldn't have known that Gamestart could have risen so high."
—------------
As soon as Cao Yisen entered the house that evening, he sensed that something was different about it.
The living room light was on, several sheets of A4 paper were spread out on the coffee table, a cardboard box was lying on the floor, and shoes were scattered all over the entrance hall—it was clear that someone was "handling important matters."
Cao Rouli sat cross-legged on the carpet, wearing a loose sweatshirt and her hair casually tied in a bun. When she saw him come in, she raised her hand and waved her pen.
"Hey, Wall Street's big short seller, you're back just in time. Come on, sign this."
"What signature?" Cao Yisen asked as he changed his shoes.
"The house," Cao Rouli pushed the documents forward, "The landlord came over today, and we've reached an agreement."
She spoke quite casually about serious matters: "I heard that our family needed money for my mother's medical treatment, and they were very accommodating, changing our original rented house to a regular monthly rent."
Cao Yisen walked over and glanced down at the contract.
The original terms regarding the entire security deposit were crossed out, and a new option was added next to it: the security deposit was reduced by most, and the remainder would be paid in monthly rent. The monthly rent wasn't cheap for this area of Seoul, but it wasn't outrageous either; it was reasonable. The biggest difference was that the original huge security deposit would be fully refunded within a week.
"The landlord said, 'Human life is more important, you can earn the money later.' Cao Rouli mimicked the other party's tone, 'Your brother works in Seoul, and he can't keep going to the hospital, right?' Then he came up with this plan himself."
She pouted slightly: "But the rent is still a bit painful."
Cao Yisen scanned the contract from beginning to end. The terms were clean and straightforward, with no hidden pitfalls. He turned the signature section over and said, "Give me the pen."
After signing her name, the landlord on KakaoTalk quickly replied, saying that he would transfer the deposit to Cao Rouli's account as soon as possible.
"In this way," Cao Rouli folded the contract, "we can continue living in the house, and my mother will have some extra cash to tide her over, so at least she won't be suffocated by money in the short term."
She looked up at him: "Have you finished calculating everything on your end?"
Cao Yisen hummed in agreement, but did not immediately hold a "capital structure explanation meeting". He simply reviewed the numbers in his mind again.
Two days later, the money was officially deposited.
That noon, he was looking for a seat in the company cafeteria with his tray when his phone pinged. It was a screenshot from Cao Rou, who was getting her hair done.
The landlord has received the money. After deducting the new deposit, this is what's left.
The screenshot shows a string of numbers, which, when converted to US dollars, would amount to approximately 200,000.
The next line:
You've already reached two-thirds of your $300,000 goal.
Cao Yisen sat down, stared at the zeros for a few seconds, and sighed.
In my past life, when I worked in a fund, this kind of figure was something I'd casually say during a meeting: "Let's allocate a few hundred thousand to test the waters first."
Now, every single dollar here is a life-saving sum that my sister has painstakingly saved up over the years by running around and picking up guys.
When he got home that evening, he carefully checked his account balance.
The small savings I accumulated from working part-time while studying abroad, the bits and pieces of money I saved after returning home, plus the stable salary I could expect for the next few months, roughly calculated, I managed to scrape together around 50,000 yuan.
The $200,000 he got from the deposit on the house, plus what he got on his side, brings the total to around $300,000. If you factor in his credit card balance and some emergency funds, and push the figure up a bit, it's about that.
This number isn't particularly large, but it's not insignificant either.
Something big enough for him to take seriously, or something so small that if things go wrong, his whole family could be dragged down with him.
After dinner, Cao Rouli slapped her bank card and a stack of papers on the coffee table.
"Alright, little brother," she said, feigning seriousness, "from today onwards, you officially take control of all our family's assets."
She lifted her chin and looked at him: "I'm warning you, if you mess this up, I'll be singing 'Violeta' in your ear every single day...!!"
"No, sister." Cao Yisen rubbed his forehead. "If I did that, I wouldn't have to go bankrupt; I'd go insane first."
"Then you should earn some money back." Cao Rouli sighed, but her tone was still smiling. "That way, I'll have the nerve to tell Mom that my brother didn't waste his time studying in America."
He looked down and touched his bank card, not saying anything harsh, but simply replying softly, "I'll try my best."
We're still missing one person to truly amplify this money.
At night, Seoul is brightly lit, and the noise of traffic outside the window has faded away, while it is still early morning in New York.
The call connected, and Mike's voice still sounded sleepy: "Bro, so early? Did Gamestart explode, or did that gray fund go bankrupt?"
"No, not at all." Cao Yisen leaned back in his chair and dimmed the screen. "I just wanted to confirm how much real money you can offer at most."
There was a two-second silence on the other end, as if someone had suddenly sat up straight.
"Wait, are you serious?"
"Of course." He smiled. "I've gathered all the cash I have, about three hundred thousand US dollars. If you're really planning to play this game with me, how much are you prepared to invest?"
There was a series of keystrokes on the other end of the phone, and after about half a minute, Mike finally spoke.
"Like this." He cleared his throat, his tone becoming much more serious. "I'll take a portion of the profits I made from the previous Blue Core and Speedata deals, plus a few recent ones I've done. After taxes, I should be able to squeeze out about 50,000."
She added, "This is the part of my decision that I can make entirely on my own."
Cao Yisen quickly calculated the numbers in his mind—his side had nearly 300,000, plus Mike's side had more than 50,000, making a total of about 350,000 for this pot.
For a truly large fund, this would be something they wouldn't even bother picking up if it fell on the ground. But for him now, it's a trump card that could change his fate.
"Okay," he said softly. "Then I'll treat it as our little pot, a total of 350,000."
Mike asked, "So how do you plan to split it? What kind of fund is this, a small private fund?"
"Keep it simple." Cao Yisen thought for a moment, "You can use your 50,000 to be a limited partner. You take 15% of the profits, and I'll take 85%. If we lose money, it'll be on my side first."
"Get lost," Mike immediately denied. "I'm here to make money with you, not to make you the scapegoat and the tragic hero."
He paused, then laughed again: "The point is—you're finally willing to say 'we'."
Cao Yisen chuckled and said, "Then I'll give you another title, let's see if you like it."
"explain."
"We'll start a fund company someday," he said slowly, "and you'll be the CIO."
There was a second of silence on the other end of the phone: "Chief Investment Officer, CIO?"
"YUP." Cao Yisen said seriously, "I've figured it out now. If you don't have someone in this industry who can help you step on the brakes, argue with you, and pull you back when you're going crazy, you'll die by your own hand sooner or later."
Mike retorted, "Do I look like I'm stepping on the brake? I'm clearly pressing the accelerator!"
"Then let's have the CIO who's both the accelerator and the brake," Cao Yisen laughed. "I'll be that crazy director you scold every day. You can go out and tell your wife—don't worry, he may be crazy, but the money he makes is real."
There was silence for a few seconds on the other end of the phone.
"Okay, I'll take the CIO position in advance." Mike's voice turned serious. "But I also want to make one thing clear."
"explain."
“This money,” Mike said, emphasizing each word, “I know it’s more than just a deal for you. You’re gambling this with your sister’s deposit, your mother’s time, and your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
"so?"
"So, Ethan, this isn't me helping you." He sighed, "We were at the table together."
Mike paused, then added casually, "If you mess up, I'll lose face too, and we'll both be written into future finance textbooks. At worst, I'll go back to school and teach college students, and the first chapter will be your candlestick chart for everyone to laugh at."
Cao Yisen wanted to laugh, but as he laughed, his nose started to sting.
"Mike."
"Um?"
"I'll remember this favor," he said softly.
There was silence for several seconds on the other end, with only rustling sounds coming from it, like someone scratching their head.
After a while, Mike coughed and reverted to his previous nonchalant attitude:
"Okay, I'll remember that. If you really make a lot of money, I'll move there when you open a fund in Seoul, and I'll scold you every day, drink soju, and watch your idols perform."
"Welcome," Cao Yisen said. "I've prepared kimchi and liver disease for you."
"Get out of here!"
The two chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up.
When the screen lit up again, the Excel spreadsheet was still there, and the bold text at the bottom was very noticeable:
Total available funds: Approximately USD 350,000
To others, it's just a line of numbers.
For him, it was the bill for his mother's hospital room, the deposit for his sister's new contract, and the chance to start over with all the mistakes he had made in his previous life.
Cao Yisen leaned back in his chair and stared at the line of text for a few seconds.
"Okay," he thought to himself, "350,000, Gamestart, Greyhawk, and that guy who's only worth 20—"
"This time, let's play a serious game."