Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 42 This feels like losing my first love (Seeking monthly votes and recommendations)

Not long after the opening, Larry learned that the front desk manager's assessment of his nephew Samuel was complete nonsense!

And what about being smart and quick-witted enough...?

Larry had never met anyone more clumsy than Tom, except for Samuel; the thing is, Tom had one advantage: he was easygoing and got along with everyone.

But this little Wallace has a terrible temper. Sometimes he gets angry if you copy something too slowly, and he might even lie down and refuse to do it.

Fortunately, the stock market hadn't seen much activity after the New Year holiday, so Larry, with his two children, wasn't disrupting the normal operation of the brokerage. However, Larry was often forced to do two jobs, sometimes reading the stock charts and sometimes copying them down.

The front desk manager saw this and felt both secretly dissatisfied with his nephew and a sense of apology towards Larry.

Three days passed in this manner.

Larry didn't actually mind working two jobs; he just hadn't had a chance to express his dissatisfaction with the gambling house. Now, the sales department seemed inseparable from him. Whether it was clients, the front desk manager, or those two burdens, Tom and Samuel, the word they kept on their lips was "Larry."

Larry, Larry, Larry...

Larry was in a real bind, but he could only manage to cope.

"If it weren't for Mr. Porter's sake, I would have quit long ago!" Larry thought.

On Thursday at noon, the front desk manager felt really guilty and called Larry over, asking him to buy coffee for his colleagues in the sales department that afternoon.

"Buying coffee" is actually a hidden perk at Paine Weber Company. The person sent to buy coffee can actually have a paid two-hour break, and only needs to bring the coffee back after 2 p.m.

Larry readily agreed, without even asking who would replace him.

Who cares...

Larry's priority right now is to go to the betting company. He already has seven or eight stock names written down in his notebook, ready to look for opportunities to profit from them.

Larry dashed out of the business office and ran to the betting shop two blocks away.

As soon as Larry entered the gate, he spotted Mr. Amon, who was wearing a monocle, and the latter noticed him at almost the same moment.

Mr. Ammon instinctively gripped the table with both hands to prevent himself from falling, before shouting at the top of his lungs, "Damn it, that high-stakes gambler is here! Get him out of here!!"

After Mr. Amon finished speaking, the security guards in gray uniforms slowly surrounded him.

Larry was prepared for the predicament he would encounter. He quickly raised his hands to stop the security guards from approaching and tried to reason with Mr. Amon in a serious manner.
“Sir, I am a customer of your company! You cannot prevent customers from doing business with your company, and besides, my business has always been fair and honest.”

Larry's words drew the attention of everyone in the trading hall. Many people who were looking at the price quotes turned to look at Larry and asked each other what had happened.

Mr. Amon waved his hand solemnly, "No, I don't know if you're a conman or just a lucky newbie, but we will never do business with you again, absolutely not."

Next, Larry tried to persuade the betting company to continue doing business with him by reasoning and threats, but Mr. Amon was as stubborn as a turtle that had swallowed a weight, refusing to budge an inch and unwilling to let Larry place any more orders for stocks there.

Larry's mouth was dry from talking, and he kept scratching his head.

Larry had actually anticipated this possibility, since the betting company was not a legitimate securities brokerage firm.

Securities brokerage firms live off 1% commission. A good trader will bring in a large amount of guaranteed commission income for the company, so they don't care about the size of the client's trades or whether the trade is long or short.

But betting companies are different. They bet that reckless customers will lose all their margin due to failed speculation, so their profits come from their customers.

Only gambling houses refer to their clients as "fat sheep" while viewing themselves as shepherds.

But Larry is clearly not a lamb to the slaughter; he's a wolf that eats people!

Leaving aside past profits, Larry alone earned the entire month's worth of profits from the betting company in the two weeks leading up to Christmas. How could this not be heartbreaking for the betting company's management?

So today, the betting house is absolutely refusing to take Larry's orders anymore, and they won't let him step through that door again.

Larry hesitated for a long time until he realized he had no chance of getting the other party to back down, and then he reluctantly withdrew from the betting shop.

However, Larry was not worried at this time, because as far as he knew, there were thirty betting companies of all sizes in Boston alone.

If they don't want me here, there are plenty of other places that will...

As Larry was leaving, he suddenly noticed that the betting company had a name: "Pyramid" Brokerage.

Two blocks further on, Larry found another betting shop. This one had an even smaller storefront and looked like a general store from the outside.

Larry walked in, went straight to the counter, and casually asked, "How much margin do I need to make a trade here?"

“Half an hour, sir!” the teller replied.

Wow... Is there really such a good thing?
Larry was overjoyed. Half a point of margin meant he could buy more stocks. If he had known about the half point, he would have traded here much earlier!

Larry excitedly pulled $50 from his pocket and slapped it on the counter.
“I want to buy 100 shares of Carnegie Steel!” Larry said with a smile.

But the teller looked bewildered, staring at Larry as if he were an Indian, and didn't even bother to take the $50...

"What's wrong? What happened?" Larry asked, puzzled.

The teller paused for a few seconds before saying, "20 shares is the maximum, sir."

Larry was taken aback, thinking to himself, "There are restrictions on the size of transactions here?"

"What do you mean by a cap of 20 shares?" Larry asked.

The teller replied, "You can only buy a maximum of 20 shares. Of course, other companies may not have restrictions on the transaction size, but this is our rule: the minimum purchase is 1 share, and the maximum purchase is 20 shares."

Larry's face showed helplessness. At that moment, the customers in front of the dimly lit trading hall also turned to look at Larry, muttering to themselves.

"My God! He actually managed to pull out $50! Which capitalist's son is on an incognito visit?"

Larry turned his head and looked around. The customers who were trading with this gambling house were obviously of a very low class. Some of them had tattered clothes, and others had leather shoes that looked like crocodiles with their mouths wide open.

Larry didn't linger and turned to leave the betting shop.

So, I went to several other betting companies, and the results were pretty much the same.

It turns out that betting companies also vary in size. The betting company Larry went to before, called "Pyramid," was the second largest betting company in downtown Boston. It didn't limit the size of the transactions and could cover a wide range of stocks.

Larry was able to make so much money because his business was so large.

But other small gambling dens attract poor daily wage workers and immigrant gamblers from the fishing port, and they simply can't handle bets of more than $100.

This gave Larry a real headache.

He had always thought that leaving the first betting firm he had ever dealt with was no big deal.

But now it seems like this feeling is like losing your first love; you don't feel anything at the time, but you feel heartbroken afterwards.

(End of this chapter)