World's Richest Man: I Leaped Across Time

Twenty minutes later, he returned. "Job done," he said, sitting back in the car, his voice rough but relieved.

I handed him $350. "For your own safety, I can't drive you back to where you were before; others will know that you have cash with you."

He took the money, his face tweaking slightly.

I then drove to a different side of the city, far from where I'd picked him up. There, I let him out of the car, and drove off.

'Knowing Joshua Jackson, he won't take it seriously and will still show up in Wahneta, but at least the threat will be always on the back of his mind.' I thought.

I went back to the parking lot of that dorm to quickly make sure the job was done. With a swift glance, I saw that the message was indeed scrawled across the driver's window of the red Mustang.

I disappeared from the scene.

I knew that for a minor incident like this, investigators would never dig deep enough to connect it to me.

With everything settled, I got back into my Mustang and changed into the suit that was hanging in the car.

It wasn't a high-traffic hour so five minutes later I arrived at the Orlando branch of Charles Schwab.

The building was a medium-rise tower, around 25 stories high, 90% covered in glass from the bottom up; typical real estate, designed to cram in as much square footage of rentable space as possible.

Around the entrance was a swath of greenery—low shrubs and manicured plants. Women and men in suits walked in and out of the building.

I found my way into the building.

The design was a clean mix of white and grey colors. There was a long and wide corridor in front of me. To my right was a lounge area with dark furniture. A few men were sitting there, talking about stocks.

On my left was a large reception desk. Two secretaries were stationed there. One was currently talking with a client, so I walked up to the blonde secretary who was available.

She looked up as I approached. "Welcome, Sir. What can I help you with?"

"Good afternoon," I replied. "I'm looking to open a custom account at Charles Schwab with over $1,000,000 in capital. Could you please direct me to an administrative person in charge of setting up client accounts?"

"Of course," she said, nodding. "May I have your name, please?"

"Jack Somnus."

"Thank you, Mr. Somnus. Let me make a quick call and find someone who can assist you." She picked up the phone, dialed a number, and spoke briefly. "Hi, Mr. Curtis, this is Jessica at the reception. I have Mr.

Jack Somnus here, looking to open a custom account. Could you please meet him? Great, thanks."

She hung up and turned back to me. "Mr. Curtis will meet you on the 3rd floor, in room 39. He's expecting you."

"Thank you."

She smiled. "You're welcome, sir. Have a good meeting."

I took the elevator up to the 3rd floor. The doors slid open to a carpeted hallway.

I quickly located the light-brown door marked "39" and swung it open, only to be immediately assaulted by bright rays of sunlight coming through the wall-sized window.

The man behind the desk looked up, startled. "Oh! I'm really sorry," he said, rising from his chair. "I wanted to let some sun in, and I forgot to pull them down." He quickly pulled the blinds down.

He then walked out from behind the desk and extended his hand with a friendly smile. "John Curtis, broker account manager at Charles Schwab."

I took his hand. "Jack Somnus."

I noticed that he was relatively young and surprisingly muscular.

He pointed to a chair across from his desk. "Please, sit, Mr. Somnus."

I sat down and he moved his big body back to his side of the desk.

The desk was clean and empty, with only a silver nameplate stating the man's position resting on its surface.

John Curtis leaned forward slightly. "I understand you're interested in opening a custom account with us, Mr. Somnus. Could you tell me what exactly you're looking for in terms of services and expectations?"

"I will get straight to the point," I started. "For a while now, I have been with Ameritrade. Before that, I used ETrading. Over the past year, my capital situation has gotten a lot better, and I'm now looking for an account that offers more leveraging options."

"And what capital range are we talking about?"

"To start, I'm looking at around $1,700,000. I also plan to more than double that by January."

Curtis's face remained neutral. This sum of money didn't move him at all.

I pulled out my Ameritrade account logs, slid them across the desk and told him what they were. Curtis reviewed them with a keen eye, but his expression didn't change.

After a moment, he looked up and said, "Based on these trades, I see a pattern of high risk, and I can't confirm a consistent strategy. For spot trades of $1 million or more, we typically can't offer leverage greater than 2x unless you have significant additional capital outside of the brokerage account. The risk involved is simply too great for us."

I met Curtis's gaze with a steady look. "I understand your concern. However, I do have additional capital that could act as collateral."

I pulled out the contract with Johnson Trading Corp. and placed it on the desk.

Curtis read the whole thing from beginning to end.

When he finished, he looked up with renewed interest. "Johnson Trading... one of the biggest trading firms in Orlando," he said, a note of respect in his voice. "This changes the situation entirely."

He continued. "However, even with this backing, we still can't offer leverage higher than 3x on the spot market."

"I'm not aiming to buy the companies; I'm just looking to trade their instruments. What about futures?" I asked.

Curtis didn't immediately answer. Instead, he turned to his computer and started reviewing the plans available for clients.

'Futures are bizarre...' I thought.

Trillions of dollars are exchanged every year in the future market without a single share ever being bought or sold. Instead, contracts are traded completely separately from the underlying instrument.

According to big banks, futures are needed to maintain liquidity in the market for hedgers to be able to manage the risk of their portfolios.

But the truth is that rich people thrive on risk.

They crave leverage, pushing for more and more.

The futures market balloons far beyond the real market, trading in multiples of the available stock. Traders risk imaginary money that, in theory, should have the backing of major banks, but this is frequently not the case.

After some time of clicking and scrolling, Mr. Curtis looked up. "Mr. Somnus... For futures, we can offer you up to 4x leverage for trades below $3 million. With a solid track record and adherence to some specific rules, you could get up to 6x leverage on trades below $5 million.

Of course, this comes with borrowing costs that vary by instrument."

"I'll take you up on that offer," I replied.

Within the next few minutes, all the necessary paperwork was handled. I gave them my personal information and verified my ownership of voting shares in Johnson Trading Corp. Orlando.

Curtis was courteous throughout.

Before I left, Curtis handed me a business card. "Here's my direct number, Mr. Somnus. If you have any questions or run into any issues, don't hesitate to reach out. I'll be your account manager from now on."

I took the card from him. "By the way, Mr. Curtis, how much can you bench press?"

"I'm sorry, what?" He chuckled, clearly not expecting the question.

"How much do you bench press?" I repeated.

"About 280 pounds."

"Yhym... Alright, that's pretty good. Keep it up."

"Why did you ask? Do you lift?"

"No. But I've been thinking about going to the gym."

Curtis nodded thoughtfully. "I see... Start with lifting around 70-80% of your body weight for bench press. It's a good baseline for beginners."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Alright, Mr. Somnus. Have a great day."

With that, I exited Charles Schwab and headed back to my Mustang.

I was ready to get back to my hometown.

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