National Tide 1980.

December 25th of the first year of the Heisei era must have held special significance for Japan in this time and place.

It's even more important to Japan in another timeline than December 29th in another timeline.

Because in this time and space, this day not only marked the most glorious peak of the Nikkei 225 index during the bubble economy era, but also ruthlessly punctured this illusory bubble on the same day.

This day has a dual significance, making it impossible for people to ignore or avoid it whenever they review Japanese financial history or study the collapse of the bubble economy.

The fact that it "coincidentally" happened to coincide with Christmas makes it even more unforgettable and memorable from an emotional perspective.

It must be said that the collapse of a dynasty often occurs not on the day swords are drawn, but when it is indulging in a life of decadence and debauchery.

Christmas 1989 was destined to be the most important turning point in the lives of many people.

Moreover, it will be like a dull knife, forever etching the pain of shattered dreams into the memory of the Japanese people.

In the future, whenever Japanese people recall this day, they will feel immense pain. It is usually compared to the "Black Monday" stock market crash in the United States on October 19, 1987, and is known by the Japanese themselves as "Bloody Christmas".

However, for those who are currently in the midst of it, the most fatal thing is that they are unable to realize that they are already in extreme danger, and many of them still cling to unrealistic hopes and are unable to extricate themselves.

Although many changes in life are preceded by signs, people often ignore these signs, which is perhaps the tragedy of life.

Indeed, although December 25, 1989, opened the gates to a devastating asset crash for the Japanese, at that moment, for the Japanese whose average household assets had nearly doubled in just five years, the sharp drop on that day was far from being excruciating.

It's worth noting that 1989 was the best year for the Japanese stock market, with the index rising by 31%.

The stock market's overall price-to-earnings ratio is 96, and the dividend yield is pitifully low at only 0.38%, yet the stock price is 8 times its book value.

During this year, the value of stocks traded reached 396.4 trillion yen (US$3.1 trillion), with an average daily trading volume of approximately
It amounts to 11 billion shares.

Outstanding margin loans are close to 10 trillion yen ($747 billion), a ninefold increase since 1980.

It can be said that in this speculative market, almost all participants made money in that year and felt extremely wealthy and unparalleled.

Although the drop of 600 points in the morning seems alarming, if you think about it carefully, it's actually less than 2% at most, which is nothing.

For experienced stock market investors, this drop is far less severe than Black Monday two years ago.

The reason people can't accept it is simply because everyone has recently become accustomed to rapid and sudden price increases, so they feel uncomfortable.

Moreover, the Nikkei 225 index even reached a new high of 40101 that day.

This makes it easier for people to become complacent and unable to maintain the necessary vigilance.

Therefore, most Japanese people viewed the drop on this day as merely a temporary adjustment during an upward trend.

Those who are truly terrified are probably limited to those whose stocks have plummeted and who have also leveraged their investments.

Take, for example, Yujiro Zuo, who holds shares in EIE International.

When the market opened that afternoon, the market continued its downward trend, with EIE International falling by nearly 14% at its worst.

He originally borrowed the money by mortgaging his property, and then added a 50% leverage. How could he not be anxious?
Unable to bear the pain of the losses that very day, he withdrew his leverage.

That's not all; by the afternoon of Christmas Day, the betting market had also started to improve.

Around 2 p.m., the market finally stabilized at around 39288 points and then began to rebound. By the close, it had rebounded by about 150 points, ultimately closing at 39424 points.

EIE International's decline also narrowed to 8%, which somewhat alleviated the fear brought about by the day's drop.

Over the next two days, although the market continued to fall by about 2% to 3% each day, by the close of trading on December 27, the Nikkei 225 index had fallen 7% from its high of 40101, closing at 37291 points.

However, the long lower shadow on the daily candlestick chart on December 27th clearly indicated a bottoming out and stabilization signal.

As expected, on December 28, the Nikkei 225 index stabilized significantly above the 20-day moving average and turned positive in the afternoon.

On December 29, the market began its counterattack, showing strong momentum from the opening bell and steadily rising until the close, eventually reaching around the 10-day moving average, with a gain of 3%.

The market closed at 38409 points on the last trading day before the new year.

On that day, 95% of the stocks on the Tokyo Stock Exchange were up, and the exchange even opened champagne to celebrate.

The joy was no less than that felt in another time and space when the stock index reached its highest point.

Most of the funds that fled in panic a few days ago returned to buy at the bottom in the last two trading days.

This resulted in the highest trading volume ever recorded that day.

This clearly demonstrates that most Japanese companies and individuals still hold high hopes for the Japanese stock market in the new year.

Yes, how can the confidence built up by 4 points be easily extinguished?
If the stock index returns to above 4 points, that would be a chance to make a fortune.

Clearly, almost every participant in the Japanese stock market is hoping for a strong start to the new year.

The index will rise further, recovering lost ground in one fell swoop, and even creating new glories.

As a result, many companies are even desperately trying to build relationships and raise funds during the New Year period, hoping to buy at the bottom of the market after the holiday.

To put it bluntly, the three-day drop before the New Year didn't kill the Japanese immediately, but it did leave them half-dead, and it even gave them hope of making a comeback.

Needless to say, how could those who have placed heavy bets on the Japanese stock market easily admit defeat and cut their losses?
In addition, Nomura Securities publicly predicted that the Nikkei index would rise to 8 points by 1995.

Even the usually skeptical Far Eastern Economic Review predicted that the Japanese stock market would reach a new high shortly after the New Year in 1990.

So, Japanese stock market speculators had only one thing on their minds during the entire New Year holiday: to return to the stock market after the holiday and increase their bets to recoup their losses.

However, they overlooked an important detail—at the end of 1989, Satoshi Sumida, the governor of the Bank of Japan who was regarded by many as a puppet of the Ministry of Finance, stepped down, and his successor was Yasushi Mieno, who had worked his way up from the bottom.

Yasushi Mieno liked to boast in public that he had never owned a single stock, and that as the governor of the central bank, his mission was to burst the bubble.

Of course, they would never realize that this kind of inverted hook pattern on the daily candlestick chart is actually the most deceptive market condition.

The Japanese stock market did not suddenly crash like the US stock market; the two October stock market crashes that occurred in the US in 1929 and 1987 were not repeated.

Instead, it's like a balloon left over after a Christmas party, gradually deflating little by little.

The problem is that the final surge on December 29 was merely the last breath of the bubble being inflated in the Japanese stock market.

The way this bubble bursts is so deceptive that it makes people unaware of the danger, and they are repeatedly cut by the jagged edges of stock index fluctuations.

All the funds they managed to raise, once reinvested in the market after the New Year, could only lead to one outcome—being trapped at a high price.

As the saying goes, the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment.

After this glamorous bubble bursts, someone is bound to pay the price; what they took before has reached the final moment of paying back in double.

Just five days later, on January 4, 1990, the day of the real bloodbath for all participants in the Japanese stock market arrived.

To welcome the first trading day of the new year, the trading floor of the Tokyo Stock Exchange was packed with traders and staff wearing red and yellow vests.

All the traders were getting into the zone, ready for the moment the market opened.

Many people also turned on their television screens, trying to find statements from the Ministry of Finance and the Bank of Japan.

It's important to understand that this is not an era where we can completely rely on electronic transactions.

Although computers do exist, they are only used as computing aids and have not yet been networked. The main trading method is still the old way from the late 19th century, which is manual trading—manually filling out orders, manually placing orders, manually executing transactions, and manually posting price tags.

So before the market opened, none of the traders thought today would be a calm and uneventful day.

Whether it goes up or down, one thing is certain: following the rebound before the Lunar New Year, the first trading day after the New Year will likely see a surge in trading volume in the morning.

This means an extremely busy time for them, requiring them to be 100% focused.

Even so, they underestimated the workload and mental stress of the day.

"here we go!"

Someone muttered something under their breath.

Almost simultaneously, all the screens displaying stock market data inside the Tokyo Stock Exchange began to flicker.

After a short refresh interval, the Nikkei 225 index changed.

"God!"

Although it was only a small group of people, the sound of them gasping for breath was quite noticeable in the quiet environment.

The usually bustling securities trading hall, where transactions were taking place immediately after the market opened, suddenly seemed to freeze.

For no other reason than 38123 points!
At the start of the new year, the Nikkei 225 index plummeted by more than 200 points.

It was like the starting signal of a starting gun; everyone who witnessed it was instantly excited, and the entire trading hall erupted in a frenzy, with everyone entering a noisy working state.

What are you all doing?

Call up!
When a large number of people make phone calls together, everyone wants to shout themselves hoarse, afraid that the other party won't hear them. Naturally, their voices get louder and louder until they are screaming.

It was just like a howling contest, with countless people's roars blending together like a raging sea, louder than a thousand donkeys shouting in unison.

That's not all. Even more striking than the abnormal index is the overwhelming green color that comes rushing in like a viral infection.

At the start of the trading day, about 70% of the stocks were down, but within five minutes, that figure had jumped to 90%.

Half an hour later, it had become 99%.

What kind of speed is this?

What kind of extreme market situation is this?
This is unprecedented in Japan's financial history!

Of course, there was some back-and-forth fighting, after all, many people had prepared money and ammunition before the battle even started today.

The problem is that the bulls' resistance was too weak, and they were almost completely crushed.

It started with a sharp drop, but then suddenly a surge of funds came in to support the market and push it up.

But each time, the difficult upward movement seemed so fragile, unable to withstand the much steeper and more resolute downward trend.

37953...

37766...

37457...

37109...

36990...

On this day, both the overall market and the vast majority of individual stocks showed a one-sided downward trend in their intraday charts.

As the time drew ever closer to 3 p.m., the crucial closing time for the market, everyone began to realize that there was no longer any chance of a miracle happening that day.

There's no way that the gains of over a thousand points lost today could be erased.

In the final stretch of time, all the irrationality and suppressed anxiety erupted, and more funds fled.

The stampede didn't just happen, it got worse!
As the intraday chart showed a sharp drop, the market decline widened to 5%, and the index has fallen by nearly 2000 points today.

A single massive bearish candlestick almost equals all the losses since last Christmas.

Few people can still sit still.

Because the current drop has almost wiped out all the gains of the past few months.

Most people would really lose money if they didn't close their positions now, compared to when they first opened them.

For example, at this moment, Yasuhiro Hasegawa, the president of Pierre Cardin Ltd. in Japan, was looking at the screen displaying stock data in his office. He took a deep breath, finally resignedly took off his glasses, and picked up the phone.

Not only were his hands trembling, but his voice was also trembling.

"Hey, Ishikawa, this is... Hasegawa. Contact the brokerage firm and sell half of the shares first. Yes...yes, at any price. Huge debt? Of course I know. But what else can we do to avoid a margin call? Only by getting some cash can the company survive."

There's also the Lingfeng Building on the 27th floor of Toranomon, Tokyo, where Harunori Takahashi recently smashed the television in his office with his custom-made set of golf clubs to vent his anger.

Finance Minister Iwasawa, who witnessed this scene, was terrified and turned pale.

However, after much deliberation, he felt compelled to offer his advice out of a sense of duty.

"President, let's sell some stocks! We have to sell some no matter what! Otherwise, we won't even have a chance to buy more."

With a "whoosh," a golf ball grazed Iwasawa's head and smashed the objects behind him to pieces.

Iwasawa, whose hair stood on end, was so scared he almost wet himself.

At that moment, Takahashi Harunori, who was holding a golf club in one hand and loosening his tie around his neck with the other, was glaring at him with eyes as red as a demon, his head covered in sweat.

"You bastard! What are you waiting for? Are you waiting for the stock to drop another point? Go now, you idiot!"

On the street, Zuo Haiyou Erlang, who had taken a temporary leave from his company, ran frantically.

He didn't want others to know about his huge losses in the stock market; he only came out to find an empty public phone booth to sell his stocks.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find it no matter how hard I looked. Instead, there were long queues in front of every phone booth, and they would take at least two or three days to reach them.

Finally, he despaired and completely lost his patience.

With bloodshot eyes, he simply picked a random phone booth, ran to the front, and yanked open the door.

He pulled the person inside out with great force, then slipped inside himself and grabbed the door tightly.

With his features contorted and incredibly ferocious, he resembled a trapped beast possessing the phone, terrifying almost everyone surrounding the phone booth who had originally intended to hold him accountable.

"Boom-"

In the trading area outside the Nomura Securities Hong Kong branch, a voice suddenly came, and a flushed-faced Hiroji Goto actually clutched his chest and collapsed to the ground.

An employee witnessed this and screamed in panic, "General Manager! General Manager! Someone come quick! Call an ambulance!" (End of Chapter)