Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 54 is also about a 14-year-old (an extra chapter added as an apology for Chapter 52).
The female manager, whom the young steelworker called "Ms. Susan," came over carrying a wooden tray, placed a plate of hot fried potato pancakes on his plate, and casually put down a small cup of Americano.

"Larry, are you off work?" the shop owner said with a smile.

Larry paused, looked up at the female shop owner at the next table, and instantly realized that she was addressing the tired young steelworker.

The boy's name was also Larry.

The blond boy looked tired, but upon hearing the shop owner's greeting, he straightened his back and smiled. "Yes, Ms. Susan, I worked the night shift yesterday."

The female shop owner frowned and exclaimed, "My God, I remember you went to work yesterday afternoon, didn't you? Why do you still need to work the night shift?"

The blond boy smiled slightly and said shyly, "The average worker works 11 hours a day, but if you work the afternoon and night shifts back and forth like me, you can earn an extra 15 cents a day."

“But you’re only 14! You need plenty of sleep.” The female shop owner said, one hand on her hip.

The blond boy, with a gentle smile on his face, explained, "I'm young. Although working for a few extra hours is indeed tiring, I can recover after a half-day of sleep. It's okay."

The female shop owner shook her head, a look of reluctance on her face.

At this moment, the blond boy noticed the small cup of coffee on the table. He quickly stretched out his gloved hand, pointed to the coffee, and said, "Ms. Susan, I didn't order coffee. Did you get the wrong one?"

"It's for you!!" The female shop owner finally smiled, leaning down slightly to lower her voice and say to him, "...It's leftovers from other customers, but they haven't drunk any of it. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, no!! Thank you, Ms. Susan." The blond boy flashed his signature bright smile again.

Larry looked up at them talking, then lowered his head and continued eating.

Larry knew what the young steelworker was eating: potato pancakes. The restaurant made them from leftover potatoes from whatever meal was served the day before. The potatoes were mashed, shaped into pancakes, fried in oil until golden brown, and then sprinkled with sea salt.

The taste was alright to be honest, but Larry himself wouldn't eat it.

Larry wasn't a very empathetic person, neither in his past life nor in this one. He could walk past a group of pitiful beggars without feeling the slightest bit of guilt.

But Larry sensed something was off about the boy.

Larry always had this feeling that the young steelworker sitting at the next table was a carbon copy of himself, or a mirror image of a different faction on the same server...

He was also 14 years old, had blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and a warm and infectious smile; importantly, this boy was also named Larry.

Looking at the boy, Larry had a strange feeling. If he and the boy had switched lives, perhaps the boy would be sitting here now, while he would be facing a plate of fried potato pancakes.

So how should one face life?

hiss……

This is a pointless question!
Larry quickly shook his head, trying to banish these useless thoughts from his mind. He picked up the pickled herring with his fork, ate it viciously, chewed a few times, and swallowed it. Then he picked up the smoked bacon and ate it in big mouthfuls.

Larry ate quickly, but the blond boy ate even faster.

Larry could hear the rough sounds of him eating quickly, and unconsciously looked up again to peek at the blond boy through the gaps in his hair.

He was so hungry that he finished the potato pancake in a few bites with a large iron spoon, looking like he hadn't eaten in a long time.

After the blond boy finished his fried potato pancakes, as if he was still not satisfied, he scooped up all the potato crumbs on his plate and ate them all. Only then did he wipe his mouth with a lingering sense of satisfaction and pick up his small cup of coffee.

But he didn't drink it right away. Instead, he held the coffee cup with both hands, enjoying the warmth emanating from the hot beverage. Larry noticed that the blond boy's tattered shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing his wrists, which were still frostbitten.

After a while, the boy, holding his coffee cup, dozed off.

Larry suddenly felt a lump in his throat, though he didn't know why. He frowned, stood up, tucked the newspaper under his arm, slapped two 20-cent coins on the counter, and hurried out of the restaurant onto the street.

He hadn't drunk a drop of his one-liter can of milk either.
.
By the time Larry reached downtown, 1.5 miles away, and walked to the entrance of Paine Weber Securities Company, he had completely forgotten about the little incident that had happened at breakfast.

Everyone says that walking can improve thinking, and Larry is now experiencing this firsthand.

In the past, when riding his bike, Larry, driven by the competitive mindset of a young man, always wanted to pedal faster and faster, as swift as the wind.

But today, when it suddenly turned into walking, Larry could feel his body slightly sweating under the coordination of low-intensity exercise, and his mind was unusually calm, which was just right for thinking about many things.

Larry's main concern right now is Colt, whose stock price is currently around $45 and has been consolidating for more than three months, seemingly without any momentum to move forward.

But Larry knew that there was a stock market adage on Wall Street: "Silence like railroad tracks, roar like steam!" This was the same as the phrase Larry had heard in his previous life used to describe stock prices as "the longer the horizontal movement, the higher the vertical rise."

Stocks that have been trading sideways for a long time tend to experience very rapid and significant price increases once a trend emerges.

Larry is now worried that he might be restricted in his betting activities, preventing him from buying Colt stock immediately.

If he missed this big opportunity, he felt he would have to drown himself in the Charles River to forgive himself.

What to do? If all else fails, the only option is to open an account with a legitimate securities firm. You'll definitely buy far fewer stocks, but you'll be guaranteed to make money.

Alternatively, he could risk going to the largest local betting company, the Metropolitan Betting Company, because only there could his money-making plans not be thwarted.

But Marco's warning was still fresh in everyone's mind.

Thinking about these troubling things, Larry's mind was a complete mess. He shook his head vigorously and thought to himself, "Whatever, there are still almost three weeks left. Things will work out eventually."

Upon entering Paine Weber Securities Company, Larry bumped into Mr. Porter and greeted him warmly.

Mr. Potter nodded, gave a faint smile, and then went into his office.

Further on, Larry ran into Mr. Wallace, the front desk manager, and greeted him with the same "Good morning."

Mr. Wallace nodded, beckoned Larry to his side, took the small leather briefcase containing documents from the counter, patted it lightly, and said softly,

“Larry, go to Hartford for me and deliver these documents there. Go to the accountant and get another $20 for travel expenses.”

Larry nodded in agreement, thinking that since he had nothing else to do at the moment, and the stocks he held were all long-term holdings with good upward momentum, he didn't need to keep an eye on them.

Mr. Wallace smiled with satisfaction and continued, "Once the data is delivered, send me a telegram from there and await further instructions."

Larry nodded in agreement again.

Mr. Wallace nodded, handed the document box to Larry, and then, as if remembering something, said to Larry, “Remember, don’t be afraid to spend money! Hire a carriage, sit in first class, eat well when you’re out, and reimburse me for any expenses incurred after you return.”

“Yes, sir!” Larry readily agreed.

　I originally intended to add a playful touch to the last paragraph of chapter 52, but I realized that people, especially longtime fans, didn't like it. I've already revised it. After some thought, I'll add another chapter. My apologies.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)