American History 1988
Chapter 245 - 238: Ring the Bell!

Chapter 245: Chapter 238: Ring the Bell!

"Jimmy! Jimmy!" Dean opened a bottle of water and poured it straight onto Jimmy’s face.

Then, with a few crisp slaps, Jimmy slowly opened his eyes, red in the face.

"Boss, now... now... what’s the stock price?" Jimmy asked, panting and rolling his eyes.

Dean looked back and saw that everyone was staring at the screen, completely indifferent to Jimmy, who was nearly unconscious.

"It was thirty dollars just now." Dean was surprisingly the most composed person in the room.

"Burp~..." Jimmy started to roll his eyes again.

"Hey! Hey! Wake up!" Dean was ready to lift his hand for another slap.

"What’s wrong with him?" It wasn’t until nearly a quarter past nine that Richard noticed Jimmy lying on the floor.

"He’s a bit excited, you know~" Dean shrugged and then helped Jimmy to slowly sit down.

"I guess you also have Byte Company stock options?" Richard looked at Jimmy with a knowing expression.

"1%..." Jimmy looked around blankly, "Is my net worth almost thirty million US dollars now?"

"If the stock price can stabilize in this range, I think so," Richard said, spreading his hands. See, isn’t this exciting?

"Aw! Aw!"

"F*ck! F*ck!"

Just then, everyone in the room started to go wild, jumping and throwing everything they could get their hands on into the air.

Sheets of paper, cups, ties, and even watches rained down like snowflakes as they let out animal-like howls.

"Dean! Dean!" Valentine ran over with his eyes as wide as saucers, "Thirty-six dollars! Thirty-six dollars!"

"Yes, double, double!" Marcus came running over, waving his arms, and then he started to throw Dean into the air.

"Oh! Oh!" Everybody hoisted Dean up, starting to play a game of toss.

"An opening price of thirty-six dollars..." Jimmy burped twice and began sliding down in his chair again.

Unfortunately, this time nobody noticed him as Dean was nearly touching the ceiling in mid-air.

"Alright guys, it’s time to head out and ring the bell!" Richard reminded everybody with a clap of his hands, hinting not to forget the important event coming up.

After intense competition, the price was finally set at thirty-six US dollars.

In the process, it had been hyped up to thirty-eight dollars, with sell orders only appearing in the last minute before the bidding ended.

With pre-market trading, there’s buying and of course, selling—some investment institutions had already cashed out in advance.

Now that the bidding was over, the actual listing was next, allowing Byte Company’s stocks to officially circulate in the market.

...

Nasdaq, a stock exchange focusing on the technology sector, was only established in the 70s.

Back then, the Times Square area in New York was already worth its weight in gold.

So the Nasdaq exchange, squeezed into a corner of Times Square, actually seemed a little cramped.

Especially today, with many of Byte Company’s senior and middle-level management along with countless media, the whole trading hall, including the area outside, was somewhat chaotic.

This was incomparable to the grand neoclassical New York Stock Exchange located a few miles away on Wall Street.

But who cared about that now? Inside the Nasdaq trading hall, Byte Company’s cheerleading team was screaming their slogans with all their might.

"BIT! BIT! BIT!" Their cries, mixed with a hint of an animalistic howl, echoed throughout the hall.

Their neck veins bulged as they stared fixedly ahead, not too far from where they stood.

There, beneath the marquee with the Byte Company logo and ticker symbol, was a giant electronic billboard.

Byte Company’s opening price was frozen at 36 dollars on it, that was the source of their relentless energy despite strained vocal cords.

They had purchased employee stocks at a cost of 5 dollars each, and in just half an hour, their investment had ballooned sevenfold.

Under the stimulus of money, they all strained their voices to scream louder and louder.

They hoped that once the market opened, Byte Company’s stock would rise just like their voices—higher and even higher.

When Dean and the others came out of the briefing room and walked towards the open studio, which doubled as the media area, the atmosphere reached its peak.

Microphones of reporters, flashes of cameras, and the lenses of photographers all chased after these emerging figures.

Each one of them was a multi-millionaire, and they had all just been minted in the past half-hour.

Everyone was clapping and cheering; everyone here worshiped wealth, and even more so, those who created it.

Byte Company executives, underwriter representatives, market-making investment institutions, along with media personnel made the studio very crowded.

Facing the many cameras below, people were just waving their arms meaninglessly or giving thumbs up from time to time.

Facing the multitude of microphones, they could only shout a couple of "Yeah!" and "Great!"

They were too excited to know what to do next.

"Dean, Marcus, David, you three stand in the middle."

Richard took over the direction of the event, starting to arrange the upcoming bell-ringing ceremony.

As the founders of Byte Company and heroes of wealth creation emblematic of Silicon Valley stars, they had to take center stage.

In front of the three of them was a small platform, on top of which was an eye-catching green button.

It was for the upcoming bell-ringing ceremony; once pressed, it signified that Byte Company’s stocks were officially open for trading and beginning to flow into the public market.

Nasdaq had long since implemented electronic trading; the so-called bell-ringing ceremony could not possibly involve an actual large bell.

Dean stood in the center, with Byte’s executives and the representatives of venture capital firms behind him, Valentine, Durell, David Morgentaler...

Towards the very edge were representatives from the underwriters and several key Nasdaq officials.

Since he was in the front row, Dean easily spotted Anna, Uncle Bill’s family, and Dave from MCI in the crowd; they had also come to the scene today.

He waved at them as a greeting, and just then, Nasdaq host Madoff stepped forward to begin his speech.

With only a few minutes left until the market opened, the schedule was very tight.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I’m delighted to welcome a special day.

Right now, I’m very excited and thrilled to share some good news with everyone..."

What the old man said actually didn’t concern many people; everyone was eagerly waiting for the market to open.

Following his brief speech, the microphone was passed to Dean.

He didn’t waste words, just expressed his excitement and gratitude in three sentences and ended this superfluous part.

Come on, everyone’s concerned about their own fortune now; who has the time to listen to your speech.

"10! 9! 8!..." As the countdown approached, everyone’s gazes were fixed on the large electronic screen.

"3! 2! 1!" Dean, Marcus, and David’s palms stacked together and then they pressed the green button.

"Bang!" Ribbons shot into the air above the trading floor and scattered down lazily.

"Oh~!" Cheers, applause, and chants from the cheerleaders all intertwined, even drowning out the music at the venue.

Dean was surrounded by many people, both familiar and unfamiliar, and then they took a group photo with Byte’s stock ticker symbol.

No one wanted to miss the opportunity to take pictures with these newly minted rich folks, especially Dean, who was now undeniably a billionaire.

"Anna, make sure I look good. Then frame the photo and hang it in the company’s front hall, haha~"

A triumphant Dean didn’t forget to flirt with Anna at this time.

Everywhere was a messy scene, Marcus and the others were surrounded by the media so tightly that there was no way out, and Valentine was spitting out his investment philosophies energetically.

In the more distant trading area, traders were everywhere, holding phones and gesturing nonstop, while clerks in high heels shuttled between trading stations, printing orders.

Suddenly, a burst of exclamations erupted from the crowd, and Dean and Valentine looked back at the large screen hanging in the air without any prior agreement.

As the stock market officially opened, Byte’s stock continued to soar upwards. It had already reached 37.6 US dollars before bouncing up to 38 US dollars.

Okay, nobody felt like posing for photos or answering reporters’ questions anymore; everyone returned to the screens.

"Dean, your net worth has exceeded one billion US dollars!!" Valentine, with envious red eyes, exclaimed in disbelief; it was just too damn surreal.

"This investment will also make you a household name!" Dean responded with a smile.

Funnily enough, to prevent Byte’s share price from falling below the offering price, Dean and his associates had even prepared a backup plan.

Morgan Stanley and Merrill Lynch, including Dean himself, had all quietly raised a fund.

If the share price fell below ten US dollars, they planned to enter the market to "prop it up."

Nobody wanted to see Byte’s stock price take a dive; it would also be a reputational hit for the underwriters.

After all, they had sold hundreds of millions of dollars worth of issued shares to their big clients.

If the stock fell too sharply, those big buyers in the primary market would also incur heavy losses.

Indirectly, Morgan Stanley and their kind would have offended their own important clients.

But now, that fund wouldn’t be needed; Dean and his associates just regretted setting the IPO price too low, which allowed the major banks to rake in an enormous profit.

"Dean! Green again! It’s green again!" Valentine’s excited shouts invigorated Dean anew.

Just moments ago, Byte’s stock had officially broken through the 40 US dollar mark, an incomparable figure.

Damn, it was too thrilling; Dean admitted his hands were also trembling slightly.

His net worth was rising by tens of millions of dollars, who could withstand that?

"God, I beg you again, let Byte’s stock price break through 50 US dollars!"

Dean turned around wordlessly to see Valentine fervently making the sign of the cross over his chest.

"I’m afraid that’s going to be tough~"

Dean thought the excitement of the stock price had fried his brain; could it really surge by ten US dollars at a time?

"I rarely ask God for anything," Valentine said, eyes glued to the screen, "maybe he’ll do us a favor this time."

"Fine, let’s hope so. But I think I need to rest for a bit..."

It was chaotic here, as many TV stations were still broadcasting live.

Dean had crawled out of bed at 4 a.m., and after this series of stimulations, he was starting to feel a bit weary.

"Anna, are there many missed calls for me?" Dean walked over to Anna outside the area, grinning.

"You guessed right, it rang at least a dozen times in my hands." Anna shook the Motorola in her hand.

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