After receiving a call from Han Kyungyeong, I flew straight to the United States.

Late at night, Han Kyungyeong finally came home.

“Have you been waiting long?”

“No. Looks like you've been really busy.”

Normally, he would have been there to pick me up when I arrived in the U.S., but today he hadn't even come to the airport.

Han Kyungyeong slowly nodded, looking exhausted.

“I've had a lot of people to meet.”

Lately, he had been meeting Wall Street heavyweights almost every day.

“You've been working hard, hyung.”

“Hard work? Not really.”

Loosening his tie, Han Kyungyeong collapsed onto the sofa.

I dropped a few ice cubes into a glass, poured him a drink, and slid it over.

“So what's the mood on Wall Street?”

“These lunatics have no sense of crisis. I mean, I'm steering them that way on purpose, but they're living in a fantasy world.”

The experts on Wall Street weren't dreaming of a bright future simply because of what Han Kyungyeong was saying.

Their confidence came from something else.

No matter what happened, they believed the government would never stand by and watch Wall Street's banks collapse.

That belief was why the old men of Wall Street could afford to frolic through flower fields.

“The real estate bubble has started deflating little by little. Before long, bonds backed by mortgages will start defaulting.”

I nodded and swirled the liquor in my glass.

“That'll be the beginning.”

The beginning of the chaos would be rising interest rates.

People with mortgage loans eventually had to refinance after a certain period. When they did, their rates were adjusted upward. Home prices were no longer rising as quickly, while interest burdens kept increasing.

To make matters worse, housing prices—which had only gone up for years—had finally peaked and begun declining.

“It's about time we changed our position too.”

“That could accelerate the chaos even more.”

To lure in the old men of Wall Street, Dreamhigh had invested enormous sums into collateralized debt obligations.

Once Dreamhigh entered the CDO market, banks and investors who were already buying CDOs became even more enthusiastic.

In this year alone, over one trillion dollars' worth of CDOs had been sold.

“If we sell now, we won't take major losses.”

“That's true, but... later people might start assigning blame.”

Han Kyungyeong feared that Dreamhigh might end up being branded the mastermind behind the entire disaster.

“Don't worry about that. That won't happen. We'll lose money too. We'll simply be selling our CDO holdings to avoid even greater losses. Nobody can criticize that.”

“The problem is that this isn't a country where common sense always prevails.”

Whenever something happened, people looked for scapegoats first. That was true everywhere in the world.

“Trust me. We'll do things our way.”

“Alright. If that's what you say, I'll unwind our positions as slowly and quietly as possible.”

“Good.”

We drank and talked late into the night.

I had planned to send him to bed early because he looked exhausted, but perhaps because he was worried, he had far more to say than usual.

The conversation went on much longer than expected.

The next morning, I flew to Washington.

“It's been a while, Charlie.”

“It has. How have you been, Obama?”

Barack Obama was emerging as one of the Democratic primary candidates.

“I've been building my team, just like you advised. Politics isn't something you do alone.”

The lone-wolf Obama was finally gathering political allies.

‘People naturally flock to Hillary Clinton because she's the frontrunner. Once the primaries begin in earnest, you may be able to close the gap. But even if you win the nomination, the road ahead won't be smooth. Start building your network now.’

That had been my advice.

“Thank you.”

“Once the primary season starts, I'm planning to create a Super PAC.”

“A Super PAC?”

“Yes.”

At this point, Super PACs were still relatively uncommon in American elections.

Most campaign donations were still raised directly through fundraising events.

But over time, Super PACs would become increasingly important.

“Separate from supporting you directly, we'll use a Super PAC to flood the airwaves with negative ads targeting your opponents.”

It was an election strategy that would become highly effective a few years later.

A Super PAC was a political action committee capable of raising unlimited funds independently without directly coordinating with a candidate.

It wasn't illegal, but in practice it was a loophole for gathering and spending political money.

“Super PACs are enemies of democracy.”

Barack Obama clearly despised them.

I wasn't unaware of that.

“Obama, elections are ultimately about money. You know that.”

No one understood that better than Obama, who was currently using the funds I provided to build his political network.

American politics was money.

The side capable of spending more campaign funds gained the advantage.

“I won't ask much from you. So stop worrying that you'll become a puppet of a Super PAC.”

“That...”

“If I were truly greedy, I would've backed Hillary Clinton or one of the leading Republican candidates instead of you. You know that, don't you?”

When ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) I first approached Obama, he had been nothing more than a senator.

His weaknesses were glaringly obvious.

In a country where white Americans dominated politics, a minority candidate faced enormous barriers.

Slavery had ended long ago, and minorities had entered the upper class, but public perceptions had not changed completely.

America was far more conservative than people liked to admit.

Other countries had already elected female leaders and minority heads of state.

Yet the nation that called itself the beacon of democracy had never elected either a woman or a minority as president.

Even Hillary Clinton's rise had shocked many observers.

Of course, Hillary possessed considerable talent of her own.

But no one could deny that her greatest political asset was the legacy of her husband, Bill Clinton.

“Let me say it again. If you don't change, no amount of support from us will make you president.”

“...”

“The Super PAC will operate completely independently from you. It won't need your approval. Just pretend it doesn't exist.”

Obama let out a long sigh.

“Understood. And I'm sorry for putting you in the position of having to explain all this.”

“Haha. That's not why I asked to meet.”

Laughing, I changed the subject.

The primaries were still a full year away.

There were more important matters to discuss.

“A massive storm is about to hit Wall Street.”

“A massive storm?”

“Yes.”

“A nuclear bomb unlike anything before is about to explode over Wall Street.”

Obama's expression immediately became serious.

He disliked Wall Street.

Even so, he understood that Wall Street was the heart of the American economy.

“A nuclear bomb? You're talking about mortgages again, aren't you?”

He wasn't completely unaware of the situation.

“Yes. Housing prices have started falling, and rising interest rates are causing more and more people to fail to make their payments.”

I explained in considerable detail what would happen next.

Throughout the explanation, Obama simply nodded, his brow furrowed.

“This won't remain America's problem alone.”

“Even so, it's hard to believe mortgage loans could grow large enough to shake Wall Street. If Wall Street shakes, the American economy shakes.”

“It won't just shake. Several banks with long histories will collapse. Insurance companies and brokerage firms will fall with them.”

“The government will step in with bailouts long before it reaches that point.”

I shook my head.

“Do you know why Wall Street behaves the way it does? Because every time a crisis comes, the government saves it. Even you, Obama—someone who doesn't particularly like Wall Street—immediately assume it should be rescued.”

America itself bore much of the responsibility for Wall Street's moral hazard.

“Rescue it? Do you think ordinary investors benefit from those rescues? No. The executives pocket bonuses. That's the reality of Wall Street.”

“So what exactly are you trying to say?”

“If a crisis hits Wall Street and the Bush administration tries to push through a bailout, stop it.”

Obama practically jumped from his seat.

“You want me to let the economy collapse? Do you honestly think that makes sense?”

“I want you to argue that some institutions should be saved while others should be allowed to die. Experts and public opinion will likely move in that direction anyway.”

That was how things had unfolded before.

“Take the lead. Shape that public opinion yourself. It'll benefit you politically.”

After a moment of thought, Obama answered.

“If the damage becomes too severe, I'll have no choice but to support a bailout. I can't allow the national economy to collapse.”

“The American economy isn't going to collapse. Not unless a world war breaks out and dozens of nuclear bombs land on U.S. soil.”

America possessed an absurd weapon called the dollar.

A nation capable of printing unlimited amounts of money to fight economic crises.

“So follow my advice.”

“And what do you gain from all this? You're not doing it for the sake of the American economy.”

I nodded.

“I intend to acquire several banks after they go bankrupt.”

“What?”

Obama's eyes widened.

“No matter what the government does, some banks will fail. Insurance companies will stagger as well. Mortgages aren't the real issue. The derivatives built on top of them are tangled together like a giant spiderweb.”

Even I couldn't predict the full scale of the shock.

I had poured fuel onto a crisis that already existed.

More banks might collapse than even I anticipated.

“I'll become the firefighter. I won't be able to buy every bank, of course. When the time comes, I'll need some help. There will be forces trying to interfere.”

“You mean those European aristocrats you told me about before?”

“Yes. This crisis will probably hurt the Baltice faction the most. They may suffer damage they can never recover from.”

Obama unconsciously bit his lip.

“That's terrifying. You're saying people who've operated as Europe's shadow rulers for centuries could be crippled beyond recovery?”

“Probably. I can't predict exactly how much damage they'll take. But I've planted a time bomb. They'll definitely suffer losses. Losses beyond imagination.”

“That's good news for me.”

“It is. Their shadows are hanging around Hillary. They'll probably try to influence her and shape public opinion through her. Take the opposite stance and attack aggressively.”

“Thank you for warning me in advance.”

“It benefits both of us.”

When I noticed Obama checking the time, I realized our meeting was nearing its end.

“We should get going.”

“Sorry. I have another appointment.”

“No need to apologize. I'm the one who flew into the country on short notice.”

At my casual remark, Obama laughed awkwardly.

“Thank you for understanding. When are you returning to Korea?”

“I still have some business here, so probably in a few days.”

“Then I suppose we won't have another chance to meet this trip.”

“Probably not. My schedule is packed too.”

“Understood. Then until next time. I should be going.”

Obama extended his hand first.

I grasped it firmly and smiled.