From legendary short seller to god of American capital

Chapter 408: The Dow Jones Industrial Average is Born; $30 Acquires a Share of The Wall Street Journal.

After Larry asked the question, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, as if he were playing a prank and wanted to hear the other person's answer.

Dao looked back at Larry calmly. "Because that's not an investment, it's a buyout. The Morgan family has a slightly better reputation than other Wall Street figures, but they also want voices that align with their own interests. If we agree to their terms, we will no longer be ourselves."

Larry nodded noncommittally, then changed the subject, "The Holmesburg incident—I remember you also interviewed Carnegie, the steel magnate in Scotland—what intrigues me is, since you accepted Mr. Carnegie's account, believing he knew nothing about the suppression of the workers, why did you, in the same editorial, identify it as the Holmesburg Massacre?"

"Reflecting the facts is the professional ethics of journalists. But we will not abandon our own stance," Dao replied simply.

"So you think the conflict between Carnegie Steel and the workers was actually a scandal?"

"Of course it's a scandal! What right do they have to kill people without the consent of God and the court?"

Larry paused, then asked, "If—I mean if I were to encounter something like this in the future, and even if I had invested in your newspaper, would you still consider me—"

"Facts are facts, and they have nothing to do with what you or Mr. Carnegie did," Dao replied calmly.

"Alright!" Larry smiled. "You guys are a bunch of stubborn folks. Now, let's move on to the next topic—besides your initial intentions, what additional value does the Wall Street Journal offer?"

This time, the three of them looked at each other in bewilderment, because at that time, The Wall Street Journal was just an ordinary financial newspaper in New York. It didn't have a large editorial team, nor did it have a large circulation.

Jones craned his neck and thought for a long time before finally revealing Dao's "market thermometer" concept.

Larry's eyes widened, and he turned to look at Dao.

Dao's eyes darted away slightly. It wasn't that he lacked confidence in his market index, but rather that he was being scrutinized by a well-known trader, which made him somewhat uneasy.

Larry began to seriously inquire about the idea of ​​a "market thermometer," and after receiving a serious answer, Larry nodded slightly.

"Alright, now I'll propose my plan! You want $5? I can offer five times that—$25," Larry said solemnly. "But on the condition that I have absolute control—55% or 60%!"

The three men exchanged bewildered glances again. Previously, the Morgan Bank representatives had offered $5 for 40% of the shares, but this newcomer was offering five times that amount for absolute control.

This left the three of them somewhat confused and hesitant.

Seeing the hesitation on the three men's faces, Larry smiled and stated his conditions: "Besides equity, I will not have a board seat, editorial interference rights, or GG priority rights in the company. There is only one condition—you must spend all $25 without hesitation!"

The three of them were taken aback again.

Mr. Livingston's terms are astonishing—no board seats, no interference in operations—in short, pure financial investment! He'll only be the nominal owner of *The Wall Street Journal*. If he truly doesn't interfere in the newspaper's daily operations, then if he dislikes *The Wall Street Journal*, he can only sell his shares, not remove the three founders.

Is there really such a good thing?

"Could you explain in more detail?" Jones asked eagerly.

"You need to use this money to do three things!" Larry held up three fingers. "First, establish the first corporate financial data verification system in the United States. Hire investigators to conduct on-site visits to factories, warehouses, and railway stations to verify the accuracy of the data published by publicly traded companies."

Jones gasped, while Bergstriser's eyes lit up.

"Second," Larry continued with a laugh, "develop your market thermometer, but not just for railroad stocks; include manufacturing, agriculture, transportation, finance—at least 30 companies. Calculate it daily and publish it on the front page of the Wall Street Journal. I've even thought of a name for it: the Dow Jones Industrial Average."

Dao's breathing became slightly rapid.

"Third," Larry lowered his hand, leaned forward, and glanced at the three men, "we will establish an independent investigative department to specifically track market manipulation, insider trading, and false advertising. Funding will be completely independent of GG's revenue. I will provide an additional annual..."

A special fund of $5000. You have the right to decide whether to publish the investigation results—I will not interfere!

The private room remained quiet for a long time.

Only the faint sound of horse-drawn carriages from Fifth Avenue outside the window drifted in, like background music from a distant era.

"So—we need to hire a lot of people," Jones said slowly.

"Yes, you also need a new office." Larry nodded and smiled.

"Why?" Dao finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse. "Mr. Livingston, please forgive my bluntness, you're a speculator. You just made nearly $2000 million in the futures market, why would you now invest in a newspaper that exposes the dark side of the market?"

Larry smiled, a bright smile, a smile he always wore.

"Mr. Dao, have you ever played poker?"

"Occasionally."

"You know, at the poker table, the most terrifying opponent isn't the one who always wins," Larry said slowly, "but the one who—can flip the table at any moment."

He gently swirled the wine glass, watching the deep red liquid form perfect "tears" on the glass.

"I was able to beat those short sellers not because I was smarter than them, nor because I had more capital. It was because..."

They found a loophole in the game: the spot delivery system.

I forced them to play with unfamiliar rules, and I knew that from then on, they would also study me, find my weaknesses, and then use their rules to drag me back to the table.

Larry put down his glass, his gaze sharpening. "So I'm going to create new rules, not secretly, but openly. I'm going to make the market so transparent that they can't manipulate it, so information is so symmetrical that they can't set traps—I'm going to make the Wall Street Journal the bible for all small investors, a Damocles' sword hanging over the head of everyone who wants to play dirty tricks."

Larry looked at Dao, his eyes sincere yet cruel. "And you, Mr. Dao, you are the one wielding the sword. I need you, I need your integrity, your stubbornness, your foolish idealism of preferring to starve rather than lie."

Because only someone like that dares to wield a sword against anyone—including my future self, if one day I become like Carnegie!

This young man saw through his pride, his fear, and the crazy dream buried deep in his heart: to change the rules of the entire financial world with a pen.

"A $25 stake for 60% — that means the Dow Jones Industrial Average is now valued at nearly $42 —"

Jones was quickly calculating in his mind, and then gave Bergstriser a meaningful look—

The latter was also considering his own interests and naturally understood the profound meaning in Jones's eyes, so he slowly nodded.

Previously, in the Dow Jones Industrial Average's shareholding structure, Charles Dow and Edward Jones each held 40% of the shares, while Bergstriser held 20%.

Although Mr. Livingston's proposal diluted everyone's original equity, it significantly increased the company's total valuation, increased the paper wealth held by the three of them, and correspondingly made the company much larger than before.

This is not the most important thing; the real added value will come in the future.

Mr. Livingston's $25 investment is a development fund, not an acquisition payment.

The funds will be used to establish a data verification system, develop the Dow Jones Index, and set up an investigation department. If these plans succeed, the company's value will continue to soar from $42.

In other words, although the three individuals lost absolute control, they avoided losing management control. They traded a portion of their equity for the opportunity for the company's independent survival and development, as well as a powerful strategic ally.

This is truly worthwhile!

Jones and Bergstriser exchanged glances, a tacit understanding forming on their faces, and a slight, knowing smile played on their lips.

But Dao suddenly interrupted, his voice trembling slightly, "Although you say so, Mr. Livingston, if we..."

What if the investigation reaches you? Or your allies? If we find they've engaged in improper market practices, would you allow us to publish our findings?

"I already said that—"

"No, you were referring to me just now, but I'm asking you now—can you answer this question from your perspective?" Dao persisted.

Larry didn't answer immediately. He stood up, walked to the window, turned his back to the three of them, and looked down at the bustling Fifth Avenue.

The sunlight gilded his shoulders.

"Gentlemen," Larry suddenly said, "do you know why I was able to beat James Keane?"

"Because—you're smarter? Or rather, you're better at utilizing the rules?"

"No!" Larry turned around, his face expressionless. "Because from the very beginning, I never intended to play the same game with him."

o

Larry turned to look at the three of them, with a slightly condescending air. "Keane wants money, fame, and the position of elder of the Wutong Society. Everything he wants is in the cage of Wall Street, so he will abide by the rules of the cage—even if the rules are dirty. But what I want is not in the cage."

"The reason I went to such lengths to build my own bank, my own factory, and even my own media outlet was to build my own cage—or rather, my own kingdom. In this kingdom, the first rule is: Truth, forever..."

Far more important than loyalty!

Hearing Larry's words, the three of them couldn't help but look at each other again—media professionals are very knowledgeable, especially those who have lived on Wall Street for a long time and are surrounded by all kinds of lies and promises every day. They will not easily believe any fancy words or promises—but this also gives them the ability to see through other people's lies.

It's clear that Larry isn't lying.

Larry continued, "I've said it before, and I'm willing to repeat it again, if you find any violations of fair market practices by me or anyone of mine, then publish it!"

Use the front page, use the largest font size, because that will prove that I'm investing in you not to buy a mouthpiece, but to buy a mirror.

A mirror that reflects everyone, including myself!

Dao stared into Larry's eyes.

He saw greed, he saw ambition, and he saw arrogance in his eyes.

But more importantly, there was something special in Larry Livingston's eyes.

Something that has long since disappeared from Wall Street in this era—a love for the game itself far outweighs the desire for the prize!

The three looked at each other again, and Jones and Bergstriser nodded slightly.

"Yes, sir! We agree to your investment plan—" Dao said sincerely.

"You'd better add another $5. This isn't greed, but you know—we need a big office."

Larry nodded and smiled. "So—what about the equity stake?"

"You have 60%!" Jones looked at his two partners, neither of whom objected.

"Deal! Well, not including this meal—we can eat after we sign the contract!" Larry smiled and nodded to the three of them.

"One last question, Mr. Livingston," Dao raised his hand to indicate he had something to say, "Do you believe this market thermometer can really succeed?"

Larry blinked, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You ask me if I believe it? Of course I do! Mr. Dow, I believe the Dow Jones Industrial Average will become the bellwether of Wall Street, and I also believe the Wall Street Journal will become the most interesting variable on this street!"

As he spoke, Larry raised his glass again.

The three of them raised their glasses.

That was the end of it; Larry Livingston traded $30 for a 60% stake in The Wall Street Journal.

After exchanging drinks, the four began their meal.

During the meal, Larry smiled and asked them about the daily operations of the newspaper and media, as well as the feasibility report on the "New York Subway," which was currently being hotly debated in New York's high society.

As the banquet drew to a close, Jones asked curiously, "Mr. Livingston, how did you know we rejected Morgan's offer? No one except Mr. Coster of Morgan said anything—"

Larry smiled. "Because—I know you're looking for funding from Mr. Coster; I called you using his office phone; and when you refused to call back, I was right next to him—"

"Your relationship with Morgan Bank is so close?" Dao exclaimed in surprise.

"I can't help it! I just got back to New York from Yale—I have to visit all my old friends first." Larry smiled and spread his hands.

Jones asked curiously, "Are you a student at Yale University? Which school are you in, and what year are you in?"

Larry chuckled and pursed his lips. "To be precise, I'm a special education student, not a student. I'm currently a research assistant at the Center for Oriental Studies and Sinology in the Department of Political Economy at Yale University."

Larry's answer surprised the three of them even more than when they learned that he was going to invest in The Wall Street Journal, because being a student at Yale University was already a sign of exceptional talent and wealth.

But he's actually a research assistant, practically a professor at Yale?!

He's so young, so rich, so intelligent, and so handsome!

Good heavens! How can such a person exist in New York?

The three of them looked at Larry with a newfound respect.

After the three said their goodbyes, Larry sat alone on the sofa, drinking and looking out the window, as if waiting for someone.

A moment later, Dunbar came in, accompanied by his 10-year-old adopted son, "Raven" McCarthy.

McCarthy's eyes remained sharp, fixed on Larry without flinching.

"Larry, Logan will be here soon. He said he'll settle the transfer to your account first."

Larry nodded, then turned to McCarthy, "Have you had lunch?"

Wheatstone hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, thank you."

Dunbar explained from the side, "He meant that he had already eaten and thanked them for their concern."

After saying that, Dunbar turned to Larry and asked, "Why did you rush back to New York this time? Can your studies be interrupted? Is there some emergency that you need our assistance with?"

Larry covered his face with a helpless smile. "—Columbia University is moving and wants to buy my land in Morningside Heights—I need to handle the New York land deal, and also check the progress of various projects."

Dunbar nodded. He hadn't seen Larry in a long time either, and he had a lot to say, but he always adhered to the professional ethics of a bodyguard.

Just then, there was a knock on the door of the private room. After the waiter opened the door, Logan appeared outside.

"Larry! You're finally back," Logan said, dressed smartly in a lace shirt, looking refreshed and handsome.

Larry stood up, about to go over and punch him in the chest to greet him, when he suddenly noticed someone standing behind him—it was Anna Herder, the female assassin Logan had saved.