Chapter 529: What I Want

September 26, 1991, Thursday, 9:40 AM.

New York, Midtown Manhattan.

In the main banquet hall of the Waldorf Astoria, only the last twenty minutes remained until the official start of the temporary shareholders’ meeting of Salomon Brothers.

The sound of conversation in the venue was gradually growing louder.

Hundreds of chairs were neatly arranged along the dark red carpet, and the crystal chandeliers overhead illuminated the entire hall brightly.

Hotel waiters were still weaving through the aisles, occasionally stopping to refill a guest’s cup of coffee before quickly retreating to the side with their trays.

The front-row seats were almost fully occupied.

Representatives from the public pension funds of California, New York State, and Pennsylvania had all been dispatched, and the heads of several large life insurance companies and mutual funds had also arrived one after another.

Quite a few of them knew each other.

However, today was clearly not an occasion suitable for catching up on old times.

Some people were lowering their heads to flip through thick financial materials, while others held fountain pens, making final modifications to pre-prepared question lists.

Several institutional representatives gathered together, discussing something in lowered voices, casting their gazes toward the direction of the podium from time to time.

In contrast, individual shareholders sitting further back did not have as many inhibitions.

An elderly man was holding The Wall Street Journal from the day before yesterday, pointing to one of the columns of reports to the companion beside him.

The two seemed to have differing opinions on a certain number above, and their voices gradually grew louder until someone nearby turned around, causing them to restrain themselves slightly.

The edges of that newspaper had already been crumpled with several folds.

And at the very back of the banquet hall, the area specially reserved by the hotel for the media was equally busy.

Dozens of video cameras had already been set up, and staff members were taking advantage of the last bit of time before the meeting started to check the equipment.

Someone stood in front of the lens trying to adjust the picture, and someone else held an interview outline, inquiring among peers about which directors would actually be present today.

Everyone was waiting for the meeting to begin.

At this moment, the most watched person today was standing behind the curtain on one side of the podium.

John Gutfreund looked through the gap left between the curtains at the banquet hall outside that was gradually filling up, reaching out to tidy his cuffs.

Today, he had specially changed into a dark charcoal-gray three-piece suit, paired with a crisp white shirt inside, and his burgundy silk tie was tied very properly.

At least from outward appearances, this helmsman of Salomon Brothers still did not look much different from back in those most glorious days.

Gutfreund lowered his head to look at his watch.

Nine-forty AM.

He looked outside again, then turned around and looked at Williams, who had been waiting to the side all along.

"Where is Buffett?"

"His office called this morning," Williams stood behind him, "saying that Mr. Buffett has a temporary change in his itinerary and may not be able to attend."

Gutfreund was silent for two seconds.

Then, his shoulders, which had been tense all morning, relaxed slightly.

Warren was not coming.

As the largest shareholder and the heaviest-weighted director on the board, Warren Buffett’s absence from such a shareholders’ meeting was in itself a signal that could not be any clearer.

He was evading.

After the joint statement was released, the stock price rose by 11 percent, and the commercial paper renewal ratio returned to 45 percent.

Warren could not possibly not see these numbers.

The market had just stopped bleeding, and making public trouble for the management at this time would only cause the wounds to tear open again.

With Warren’s personality of always calculating accounts clearly first, he would not do such a deal where the losses outweighed the gains.

At least not today.

"What about Miss Saionji’s side?"

"It has been confirmed. She will attend as agreed, and her entourage is currently checking the admission arrangements with the hotel."

"That’s good."

Gutfreund nodded, the expression on his face relaxing by a few more degrees.

"Tell the hotel that after Miss Saionji arrives, invite her directly inside. Greet the media side in advance as well, and don’t let those reporters block people at the entrance."

"Understood."

Gutfreund raised his hand and pushed the Windsor knot of his tie upward.

Warren not coming indeed left him with one less person to worry about.

And Satsuki’s willingness to attend meant that his most important arrangement today had already succeeded by at least half.

The joint statement the day before yesterday had already allowed the market to see hope once again.

If today he could let the shareholders see with their own eyes that Saionji Satsuki herself was still willing to stand on Salomon’s side, then what he had to say next would naturally carry even more weight.

Gutfreund looked toward the outside of the curtain again.

He was even somewhat looking forward to what kind of reaction the shareholders down below would have when Satsuki walked into this banquet hall later.

...

At the same time.

Waldorf Astoria, twenty-first floor.

Satsuki stood before the suite’s full-length mirror, letting Chizuru tidy the cuffs of her suit jacket for her.

Today’s outfit was specially prepared for the shareholders’ meeting.

A deep black custom women’s suit, paired with a pure white silk shirt inside, her long hair neatly coiled at the back of her head.

To avoid being too conspicuous, she even omitted the jewelry she occasionally wore normally, leaving only a delicate Saionji Family crest emblem.

Satsuki looked left and right in the mirror.

"Will it be too serious?"

Chizuru looked up at the mirror, examining carefully for a moment.

"I think it’s very appropriate. However, Young Miss, the kimono was also brought. If you want to change, it’s still not too late."

"Kimono?"

Satsuki froze for a moment.

She imagined that scene slightly.

Hundreds of American shareholders wearing dark suits sitting up straight and waiting to discuss the life and death of a Wall Street investment bank.

Then, wearing an exquisite furisode, stepping on geta wooden clogs, walking leisurely in through the door...

Satsuki decisively shook her head.

"Let’s not deepen other people’s stereotypes about Japanese people."

She glanced at her cuffs again, confirming there was nothing that needed adjusting, then turned around and picked up the schedule on the table.

The things to do today were actually very simple.

Gutfreund was responsible for going on stage first.

After he finished saying everything that should and shouldn’t be said, it would be her turn to make an appearance.

As for Buffett’s side...

Satsuki glanced at the time, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

Hopefully that old gentleman won’t come too early.

"Young Miss."

Dojima Gen stopped at the doorway.

"The banquet hall has already been inspected. We have confirmed with the hotel that later entering from the side door, you can go directly to the front row without passing through the media area at the main entrance."

"Mhm, thank you for your hard work."

"In addition, there are more media than expected. The hotel is increasing staff to prevent anyone from blocking the aisle when dispersing."

"Understood. When dispersing, still take the original route, and leave the media side to Frank to arrange."

"Yes."

Dojima Gen nodded, and after confirming there were no other instructions, turned around and left the suite.

Satsuki closed the schedule, put it back on the tabletop, and took one last look in the mirror.

Everything that needed to be prepared for today was already prepared.

As for what Mr. Gutfreund would actually say on stage later...

She was rather looking forward to it.

Chizuru stepped back half a step, looked at her clothes again, and only then nodded.

"It’s ready, Young Miss."

Satsuki picked up her small handbag.

"Then let’s go."

...

Ten o’clock sharp in the morning, the meeting began.

For the first half hour, Gutfreund spoke extremely steadily.

He did not evade the scandal.

On the contrary, he proactively laid out the process of the Treasury bond bidding violations, the progress of the company’s cooperation with the investigation, and the situation of customer loss and capital pressure over the past two months item by item in front of everyone.

His tone was heavy, but not flustered.

Every time he reported a loss figure, he would immediately explain what measures the company had taken.

Down below, some people buried their heads in taking notes, some crossed their arms over their chests, and others remained expressionless from beginning to end.

Until he spoke to the second part.

Gutfreund picked up a copy of The Wall Street Journal from the podium and held it up toward the audience below.

"Just two days ago, S.A. Investment, one of Salomon’s most important strategic partners, jointly released this statement with us."

A slight commotion rippled through the banquet hall.

"Saionji will continue to fulfill all cooperation agreements with Salomon, and launch formal negotiations with us regarding long-term capital arrangements."

"On the day the statement was released, our commercial paper renewal ratio rebounded to 45 percent, and institutions that had previously suspended authorization have already begun contacting us again."

"Everyone has also seen the performance of the stock price."

He put the newspaper back on the podium, braced both sides of the podium with his hands, and leaned forward slightly.

"I would like to ask everyone to pay attention to one matter."

"Miss Saionji Satsuki herself flew from Tokyo to New York personally. She personally walked into 7 World Trade Center, personally sat in our conference room to flip through Salomon’s account books, and personally visited every core department of the trading floor."

"After seeing all of this, she decided to stand on Salomon’s side."

Gutfreund’s gaze slowly swept across those cold and hard faces in the front row.

"You might as well think about it. If she did not believe in this company’s current direction, did not believe this team has the ability to lead Salomon out—"

"Why would she do this?"

The banquet hall was silent for a few seconds.

Then, a few people in the front row nodded gently.

Gutfreund saw it.

He had not said a single false word.

Saionji had indeed come, had indeed looked at the books, had indeed met the people, and had indeed signed that statement.

He had simply rearranged these facts in the order most advantageous to himself.

During the Q&A session, the first to raise a hand was the representative of the New York public employees’ retirement fund.

That gray-haired man in his fifties stood up directly without waiting for the staff member to hand over the microphone.

"Mr. Gutfreund, I have only one question."

"Please go ahead."

"According to reports, the company management knew about the irregular bidding months ago, yet chose not to report to the Treasury."

The man’s voice was cold and hard, "If this is true, why on earth should we continue to hand our money over to the same group of people to manage?"

The commotion was greater than before.

In the media area, the lenses of several cameras turned toward the podium at the same time.

Gutfreund did not dodge.

"This is a very fair question."

"Regarding the timing of the report, the management indeed made a mistake. I do not deny this point, nor will I push it onto anyone else."

His hands braced on the edge of the podium slowly tightened.

"But I would like you to consider a more realistic question. What does Salomon need the most right now?"

"Is it to make this company lose its entire leadership team at the same time while the investigation is halfway through and the credit crisis has not yet been resolved?"

"Or is it to let the people who are most familiar with every department, every client, and every position of this company clean up the problems, retain the clients, and bring in new capital under everyone’s supervision?"

He did not give the other person room to interject.

"Saionji has already made her judgment."

"I believe that everyone present will also make the correct judgment."

That representative opened his mouth, but ultimately sat back down.

The atmosphere in the banquet hall began to tilt bit by bit in a certain direction.

Standing behind the podium, Gutfreund clearly felt this change.

Over the past few weeks, he had hit walls everywhere in Washington, had been repeatedly questioned at board meetings, and had endured countless nights in his office facing increasingly ugly figures.

Until today, the situation finally returned to the rhythm he was familiar with.

As long as he survived this session.

As long as the shareholders raised no objections to the management today, the board side would—

"Click."

The brass handle of the banquet hall’s side door was turned from the outside.

The sound was not loud.

Yet in this silence, the rows of shareholders closest to the door still subconsciously turned their heads back.

Then, they never turned back around.

The commotion started from the side door, spreading forward row by row like ripples stirred by a stone thrown into the water.

The media area at the very back was the first to burst into a dense flurry of shutter clicks, with flashes lighting up one after another, connecting into a patch of blinding white light.

Gutfreund looked over along everyone’s line of sight.

And standing beside him was precisely the person Gutfreund most hoped to see today—

Saionji Satsuki.

The Eldest Miss was wearing a dark custom-made suit, with her long hair neatly pinned up at the back of her head.

Facing the cameras that suddenly turned over, she merely paused slightly, then smiled and nodded at the few shareholders who recognized her.

Yet Gutfreund froze.

How was this possible?!

He certainly knew Satsuki would come today, and had even prepared a seat for her.

But Warren’s office had only told him in the morning that today’s itinerary had temporarily changed and he might not be able to attend.

As a result, now these two people actually appeared together?

That Saionji Satsuki whom he had gone to every length to win over, and that Warren Buffett whom he least hoped to see today, were standing side by side in front of the same door.

Gutfreund’s mood, which had just relaxed, tightened up again in an instant.

However, he quickly felt that he was probably overthinking it.

Satsuki had originally promised to attend, and Warren was also a major shareholder of Salomon.

He changed his mind and decided to come over and take a look, what was so strange about that?

As for the two of them entering together...

Perhaps they knew each other to begin with?

Perhaps they just happened to bump into each other at the hotel and came in together along the way?

Very normal... Right, this was very normal.

There was completely nothing worth making a fuss over.

Gutfreund went through these reasons in his heart, and finally felt that the inexplicable unease just now had faded slightly.

He straightened his body again, casting his gaze toward the two people walking down the aisle.

Warren coming was just coming.

As long as Satsuki was still willing to support Salomon, today’s shareholders’ meeting still had enough room.

Besides, she looked to be in a pretty good mood just now.

Gutfreund even recalled two days ago what Satsuki looked like when she agreed to issue a joint statement in his office.

She had always been so polite, so willing to cooperate.

Surely she would not suddenly change today, right?

Buffett and Satsuki walked forward along the middle aisle, with people standing up from time to time to greet them along the way.

Gutfreund watched the two of them, adjusted the expression on his face, and when they walked to the front row of seats and stopped, he had already put on that poised posture once again.

"Sorry, John."

Buffett looked up at the podium, his tone no different from a casual chat, "I am a bit late."

Gutfreund swallowed hard.

"...Warren. Your office said you had other arrangements today."

"I do have other arrangements."

Buffett nodded.

"This is it."

A few low-suppressed laughs sounded in the banquet hall.

Gutfreund did not laugh.

Buffett did not look at him anymore either, turning around to face the audience below the stage.

"Just when entering the door, I happened to hear John mention Miss Saionji. Since everyone cares so much about Saionji’s attitude—"

He stepped aside by half a step.

"I think it is better to let her speak for herself."

Hundreds of gazes fell upon that Eastern young girl at the exact same instant.

Gutfreund stood behind the podium.

Facing all the shareholders and dozens of cameras, he could not find a single reason to refuse.

A few seconds later, he took half a step back, yielding the position in front of the podium.

"Of course."

His voice was still relatively steady, just a bit dry.

"Miss Saionji, please."

Satsuki nodded slightly to him, and then walked up the steps beside the stage.

Gutfreund stepped aside, watching her pass in front of him.

When the two brushed past each other, the young girl even politely thanked him, her expression no different from when they met in his office a few days ago.

This instead made Gutfreund even less certain of what she was actually planning to say.

He retreated to the side of the podium, watching Satsuki walk up to the microphone.

Hundreds of gazes below the stage followed her movement, and the cameras at the very back also turned around one after another.

She walked to the front of the podium, first slightly bowed to the audience, and then reached out to adjust the microphone.

The stand slid down a small fraction, but suddenly got stuck.

Satsuki tried pressing down on it again.

It still did not move.

"..."

She glanced at that microphone which was more difficult to deal with than she expected, and then looked up at the audience.

"Sorry, this thing does not seem to cooperate with me very much."

Someone in the front row laughed out loud.

A staff member hurried up the stage to lower the stand for her.

Satsuki thanked the other person, and after the staff member retreated, she stood back in front of the podium.

"Thank you. It seems that before coming next time, I should confirm the microphone’s height with the hotel first."

Laughter came even from the back.

Satsuki waited for the sound to subside slightly, her gaze sweeping over the institutional shareholders in the front row.

The pension fund representative who had been sitting opposite Gutfreund just now was also looking up at her.

"Good morning, everyone. I am Saionji Satsuki."

"This is my first time attending an American company’s shareholders’ meeting. If there is anything inappropriate in what I say, I ask everyone to bear with me."

She bowed slightly, her tone modest and gentle.

"First of all, thank you Mr. Gutfreund for the introduction just now."

She turned her head slightly, nodding toward Gutfreund who was standing to the side.

"Most of what he said just now is the truth."

"I did indeed come from Tokyo to New York, did indeed personally look at Salomon’s materials, and did indeed meet the traders and department heads here. Saionji did indeed issue that statement together with Salomon."

"Saionji has also indeed decided to support Salomon."

Gutfreund stood in place without moving.

"However, regarding that statement, there is a small detail that I feel is necessary to add for everyone."

Satsuki’s voice remained soft.

"In the original draft of that joint statement, there was originally another sentence."

"’Salomon’s current management team will continue to advance the company’s recovery plan and work closely with the Saionji side to ensure operational continuity.’"

She paused for a moment.

"This sentence is the one I asked to be deleted."