World's Richest Man: I Leaped Across Time

It will be useful to keep Britney close to me.

I could use some help with the numbers to look for the best deals and get the highest profits on my trades.

But that wasn't the whole story.

Britney could become a vital piece in my future plans.

It had been almost three weeks since I came back to the past. This was enough time for me to seriously consider what I wanted to do with this second chance.

I wanted to be free.

I didn't want to get all that useless attention. A bit of fame is fine, but too much of it is burdensome.

I wanted to enjoy the wealth, not be overwhelmed by it. Constantly interviewed. Constantly on people's tongues, in the newspapers, on billboards. No. I didn't want that.

Since I came back, I've been cooking up a plan in my mind.

A plan that would need scapegoats and collaborators.

Britney would be accepted at MIT in Boston, and if not for her impending death, she would likely keep on doing well in international Math Olympiads.

And who else would fit the bill for making an insane amount of money with analytic skills better than a math Olympian?

These plans might seem quite far away, but with how fast I expect my net worth to rise, it might not be that far off.

It would be best if I kept in touch with potential partners in that endeavor.

The graduation ceremony proceeded as expected: the usual blah blah from the teachers and the principal about bright futures, hard work, and the importance of following our dreams.

Like it's that easy.

They all seemed to say the same thing, just in different words.

After that, the student representative gave a thank-you speech, full of heartfelt gratitude and a bit of ass-kissing, handing out some presents for the teachers who had "shaped our lives" and "guided us."

There would be no party afterward; the Prom had been at the beginning of April, which I hadn't even attended.

Some people went without a date, but I felt embarrassed to do that at the time.

As the ceremony wrapped up, everyone said their goodbyes, hugged each other and then everyone was off.

Most of those people would never say a word to each other again.

I think maybe 30% of them came to the reunion a few years later.

...

After graduation, my dad wanted to take me and the rest out for dinner, so I asked him to check out the new pizzeria Chloe's parents had opened.

We arrived at the pizzeria a couple of hours later. The pizzeria's inside was filled with a delightful smell of freshly made dough.

We found a table and settled in.

A few minutes later, Chloe walked over to our table in a colorful waitress uniform. She looked lovely, her hair styled into pigtails with red ribbons and a light touch of makeup.

"Hey, Jack! Hi, everyone," she greeted us with a bright smile.

"Hey, Chloe," I replied. "You look good in that uniform."

"Thanks. Mind if I sit with you for a few minutes? My parents said it's okay."

My mother quickly agreed to let her sit with us, and not without giving me a wink.

We chatted for a bit.

A week ago, I learned that she was also heading to Florida University to study Nutrition and Dietetics. She mentioned she'd be living in one of the student houses.

It's like we couldn't stop living close to each other...

"Fuck" was the word that came out of my mouth as I bit into my pizza.

"Jack!" my dad scolded me.

"This is amazing," I said between bites. "Your parents really nailed it."

Her parents really knew what they were doing... it was mouth-watering. The crust was perfectly crispy, and the toppings were fresh and flavorful.

Chloe beamed. "I'll let them know you said that. They've been working really hard on this place."

After a few more minutes, Chloe had to get back to work. She stood up, giving us all a quick wave.

"I'll see you around, Jack."

"Good luck with the rest of your shift." I replied.

After we finished eating, we collected our stuff and left the pizzeria.

As we walked to the car, I stopped my sister.

"Hey, can I ask you for something?" I began.

She gave me a curious look. "What is it?"

"Can you give me Britney's number?" I asked.

She raised an eyebrow at me and gave me an inquisitive look. "Why would I do that?"

"I need it for something."

She crossed her arms with a knowing, cheeky smile. "I'll tell her you asked for it, though."

"Go ahead," I said. "I'm not trying to ask her out. I'm trying to recruit her."

She looked skeptical. "Recruit her? For what?"

"Just something I'm working on. Trust me, it's not what you think."

She sighed but eventually handed over the number. "Just don't make it weird," she said, shaking her head as she got into the car.

Going forward, I have Britney's number bookmarked on my phone.

...

After gathering all the courage I could muster, I finally sat down to check out the Johnson Family online.

A quick search and I knew their current net worth: a staggering $19 billion. Adjusting for inflation, that would be over $50 billion in 2034.

I dug deeper into their investments. They had a strong focus on pharmaceutical and food and nutrition companies.

As I continued the search, I found a recent article.

The headline read, "Johnson Family Acquires Medivax Pharmaceuticals for $300M."

The article detailed how the Johnsons had bought out a struggling pharmaceutical firm, adding another jewel to their empire.

The patriarch of the family, Arnold Johnson, was known for his ruthless business tactics. Slightly overweight with short dark hair, Arnold had a cunning way of taking over companies by shorting them slowly, creating the impression that they were worth less than they truly were, and then swooping in to buy them out.

It was a strategy he had employed for years, and it had always worked in his favor. Not only was it his strategy, but it was the strategy I was forced to use in most cases when I worked for them.

They would laugh at the table afterwards at how naive those companies were.

This was the way of the Johnsons.

Actually, I was feeling a bit nostalgic.

'I will be seeing Sam soon...' I thought.

...

Time passed, and soon it was the 2nd of June. Stock prices were fluctuating wildly. The price of the USANA Health Sciences stock had risen to $7.52.

My calls, all filled within three days, had already risen to $2.82.

Early that morning, my dad's grave tone broke my sleep as he demanded that I come to his office.

I knew I would have some explaining to do.

He checked the account, and what he saw was a total balance of over $20,000.

This was because it reflected the worth of the calls, not actual liquid cash.

"How did you do this? Are you making irresponsible decisions?!" Was what he said.

It took hours to explain everything to him. I broke down my strategy, detailing why I believed the stock would go up.

I put so much detail into my explanation that I almost started to believe it myself...

It didn't work on my dad, though. He was about to sell them all, telling me that it was too risky.

To make him happy, I set a stop-limit: if the worth of the calls went below 2.1$ I would immediately get rid of them.

This kept him quiet for now.

Of course, he didn't know that it would be nigh impossible if I wanted to urgently sell those calls.

Buying them yourself was one thing.

But who would want short-term calls on a stock that's crashing faster than a falling meteor?

I would't...

...

After the Kings took the lead 3-2, my grandpa quickly turned pessimistic, thinking the Lakers couldn't pull through. "They're done for," he muttered, shaking his head.

But then, in the next game, the Lakers equalized the series 3-3.

The final match was intense.

We were watching it together.

The game was a nail-biter, but eventually, the Lakers pulled ahead and won 4-3.

Grandpa yelled out in joy, raising his fists high.

'They did it. The future is the same; nothing changed,' I thought.

Grandpa turned to me with a proud smile on his face. "Solid bet, kiddo. I'll get in touch with my guy soon to cash in on this one. If you ever have any other good bets on your mind, you can always tell me."

'Shameless,' I thought.

On the 10th of June, Grandpa sent the money to my bank account.

I sat at the office desk and logged in to the Bank of America account that my father made for me.

[Bank Of America]

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[Account Owner: Jack Somnus]

[Account Balance: $21,009.09]

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