Chapter 517: How to Save

When the motorcade drove away from 7 World Trade Center, it was already past four in the afternoon.

The setting sun shone across the Hudson River, dyeing the glass curtain walls of the high-rises in Lower Manhattan a warm gold.

Satsuki leaned back in the backseat, watching the streetscape flitting past outside the window, her mind still sorting through her impressions after today’s talk with Gutfreund.

Salomon’s situation was more serious than publicly reported, but it had not rotted beyond rescue.

This was her most direct judgment after reading the first batch of core data.

Credit was collapsing, liquidity was tightening, and clients and counterparties were slipping away, but the truly valuable assets were still there.

It was like a house with cracked exterior walls and a leaking roof—scary to look at, but the foundation and load-bearing structure hadn’t collapsed.

As long as the cracks could be patched and the leaks fixed, this house could still be lived in for many years.

The question was, who would fix it.

And after the repairs, who would the house belong to.

Thinking of this, the corners of Satsuki’s mouth twitched.

Gutfreund performed very well today.

He didn’t start by crying poor, nor did he paint Salomon as a wreck ready to sink at any moment. Instead, he focused on the "credit crisis" and the "continued existence of business value," trying to make Saionji believe that entering the market now was a great opportunity to buy at the bottom.

And he cleverly avoided mentioning the matter of "changing management."

He even added a sentence at the end: "Hope to maintain continuity in operations and management."

Translated, it meant: "I want to keep sitting in this seat."

Satsuki could understand.

If Buffett were really allowed to take direct control of the board and drive a management reshuffle, Gutfreund would most likely be the first to be taken down.

That was why she chose to find Saionji first.

A financier from Japan who possessed massive capital but was unlikely to interfere in the specific governance of an American company was obviously a safer choice for him.

It was just a pity—

Satsuki withdrew her gaze from outside the window.

From the very beginning, she never intended to let Gutfreund stay in that position.

A CEO who had already lost regulatory trust and might even face criminal investigation simply did not have the capability to lead Salomon out of the crisis.

The motorcade turned into Park Avenue and stopped in front of a hotel that looked somewhat aged.

This wasn’t the kind of landmark building that appeared on the covers of travel magazines, nor did it have exaggerated gilded doors and red carpets.

This was an established five-star hotel located on the south side of Central Park, some distance away from Wall Street.

Satsuki didn’t like living in the financial district; there, once night fell, it was either bars or empty streets with completely no sense of livelihood.

Moreover, this hotel was relatively quiet in location and its security conditions were strict enough.

The car had stopped, but Satsuki still hadn’t gotten out.

Due to security considerations, all itineraries in the United States would have Dojima Gen lead people in first to confirm the situation.

"Mm—it’s still a bit tiring after all..."

Satsuki stretched lazily in the car.

Flying all the way from Tokyo to New York today, after the plane landed she went straight to Salomon without even entering the hotel, and then sat through hours of negotiations.

Even though her body had recovered fairly well, this kind of schedule could definitely not be considered relaxing.

She was already prepared to take off her shoes and dive straight onto the bed the moment she reached the room later, passing out for a few dozen minutes first.

After about ten minutes, Dojima Gen came out from the lobby, walked over to Satsuki, and lowered his voice to say:

"Eldest Miss, Mr. Buffett is already waiting for you upstairs."

Satsuki was stunned for a moment.

"Now?"

"Yes, he arrived about half an hour ago."

Dojima Gen glanced at his watch.

"The other party only brought one assistant, with no other accompanying personnel."

Satsuki stood in place and thought for a few seconds.

She had indeed called Buffett yesterday, mentioning that she would go see Gutfreund this afternoon.

At that time, Buffett said he happened to be in New York too, and they could meet if convenient.

She just didn’t expect the other party to wait directly in the hotel.

"Understood."

Satsuki pouted, silently mourning the brief life of her "grand rest plan" for a second in her heart, but still tidied her coat and got out of the car.

The elevator rose to the twelfth floor, the hallway was paved with dark carpets, and several landscape oil paintings that looked somewhat historical hung on the walls.

Dojima Gen led her to the door of a suite at the end of the hallway and knocked twice.

The door was quickly opened.

Opening the door was a woman looking to be in her forties, wearing a dark suit, with a professional and polite expression.

"Miss Saionji, Mr. Buffett is waiting for you inside."

Satsuki nodded and walked in.

The suite wasn’t particularly large.

The living room held a set of light-colored sofas and a coffee table, and the floor-to-ceiling windows provided a view of the tree canopy of Central Park in the distance.

Warren Buffett was sitting in that single-person sofa by the window.

He was wearing a somewhat aged gray cardigan, with a white shirt underneath, its collar loosely open.

His trousers were ordinary dark casual pants, the leather shoes on his feet were wiped very clean, but the style probably hadn’t been popular for a decade.

A newly delivered evening paper was spread across his knees, and a can of cherry-flavored cola was placed on the small table next to him.

When Satsuki came in, he was lowering his head to read the newspaper, and only raised his head upon hearing the sound of the door opening.

"Oh, Miss Saionji."

Buffett smiled, put the newspaper aside, and stood up, walking toward Satsuki.

"Sorry, I came a bit early."

"I originally wanted to wait in the downstairs lobby first, but your hotel people insisted on inviting me up."

"It’s because I came back a bit late."

Satsuki slightly bowed, a polite smile on her face.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, please forgive me if there has been any poor hospitality."

She also went up to meet him, while looking at the person before her whom she had only seen in data in her past life.

Buffett was already sixty-one years old.

His hair was already somewhat graying, and the wrinkles on his face were obvious, especially at the corners of his eyes and forehead.

His height was visually estimated to be a little over 1.7 meters, his figure tended to be plump, his belly slightly bulging, and the whole person looked just like a retired accountant who had just walked out of some ordinary middle-class community in Omaha.

Compared to Gutfreund whom Satsuki had seen today, almost little trace of the "Wall Street" flavor could be seen on him.

If she hadn’t known his identity in advance, Satsuki would probably have thought the other party was just some out-of-town businessman who came to New York on business and dropped by to catch up with old friends.

But she knew.

The seemingly inconspicuous old man in front of her controlled Berkshire Hathaway—an investment company whose market value already exceeded ten billion dollars and was still continuously growing.

And more importantly—

Satsuki of her past life had once spent a long time studying every shareholder letter and every interview record left behind by this person, trying to find his understanding of capital, enterprises, and value from them.

He was not the "God of Stocks" deified only later in the internet era; back in 1991, he was already a pivotal figure in the American financial world.

Satsuki instinctively straightened her back, a standard "Miss Saionji-style smile" appearing on her face.

"Mr. Buffett, we finally meet today."

She reached out her hand.

Buffett shook her hand, with moderate firmness, without that deliberately displayed exertion, nor perfunctory lightness.

"Indeed."

He smiled.

"The last time I talked to you on the phone, I forgot several times that I was talking to an eighteen-year-old girl."

Satsuki laughed.

"Is this supposed to be a compliment to me?"

"Of course."

Buffett motioned toward the sofa opposite.

"Being eighteen is not a problem, it’s just that rarely is someone at eighteen already making me consider whether to join her in saving a Wall Street company."

Satsuki sat down on the opposite sofa.

Chizuru and Frank stayed not far away, while Dojima Gen guarded the corridor outside the door. Buffett’s accompanying personnel likewise tactfully retreated to the side, and the large living room quickly quieted down.

The hotel service staff were still waiting nearby.

Buffett glanced at the cherry cola on his table, then turned to ask Satsuki:

"What would you like to drink?"

"I wouldn’t dare recommend the tea here to a Japanese person, but the coffee is quite good. Of course, if you want to drink some alcohol today, I imagine they have it fully prepared."

Satsuki followed his gaze to the can of cola on the table.

"Then I’ll have the same as you."

Buffett was clearly somewhat surprised.

"Same as me? Cola?"

"Mm."

Satsuki smiled and nodded.

"Just right to taste the product of the company Mr. Buffett invested in."

Buffett lowered his head to look at the cola in his hand, as if seriously considering this statement.

"Sounds good."

"It’s a pity Coca-Cola won’t give Berkshire an extra dividend just because I helped them sell one more can today."

Satsuki burst out laughing.

The service staff quickly brought another glass of cherry cola with ice.

Satsuki took it and tasted a sip.

The cherry flavor was much more obvious than ordinary cola, and the sweetness was heavier too.

It couldn’t be said to taste bad.

But if she were to drink five cans a day...

Satsuki glanced at Buffett opposite her, feeling that some things probably truly belonged to the realm of personal talent.

Buffett at this moment had picked up the newspaper on the table again.

The unfolded page happened to publish the news photo in front of 7 World Trade Center this afternoon.

In the photo, Satsuki was shaking hands with Gutfreund, surrounded by reporters and cameras.

"When I was looking at the newspaper just now, I was wondering."

Buffett raised the newspaper and shook it slightly.

"Whether I should make an appointment first to see ’the busiest person in New York today.’"

Buffett smiled.

"As a result, you actually came back on time; it seems Wall Street is quite punctual after all."

Satsuki laughed.

"If I knew you were waiting for me, I probably would have had Mr. Gutfreund say a few words less."

"Ha, what a pity."

Buffett put the cola back on the coffee table.

"I was quite curious to know what he told you today."

The atmosphere suddenly relaxed.

The slight restraint Satsuki felt originally due to meeting her "past life research subject" also dissipated a lot along with it.

She leaned back, her hands resting on the armrests.

"He said a lot."

"I figured as much."

Buffett nodded, the smile on his face gradually fading.

"So, Miss Saionji."

He looked at Satsuki.

"What do you think after reading it?"

This question came very directly.

Satsuki thought for a moment.

"It can be saved."

"And it’s worth continuing to investigate."

Buffett gently nodded, but didn’t show much excitement because of it.

He just looked at Satsuki, paused for a few seconds, and asked again:

"Is your judgment ’the company still has value,’ or ’the market won’t allow it to fall’?"

Hearing this question, Satsuki’s expression became a bit more serious.

"The company still has value."

She briefly recounted the core judgments obtained from Salomon today.

The renewal ratio of commercial paper was declining, but cash reserves could still hold out for a while.

Clients were slipping away, but the core business team had not left on a large scale.

Regulatory pressure was huge, but the Treasury Department and the Federal Reserve temporarily hadn’t shown any intention of directly stripping away primary dealer qualifications.

"Salomon’s problems now are more serious than publicly reported, that’s true."

"Yet its core business capabilities and organizational structure have not been completely damaged."

"The real danger is the chain reaction formed after the collapse of credit. As long as the three problems of regulation, management, and liquidity can be controlled, it is still an institution of very high value."

After listening, Buffett slowly nodded.

"Mm, I think so too."

He paused.

"However, these two matters are best kept separate."

Satsuki raised her head.

"’Prices have fallen a lot’ and ’things are cheap’ are not the same thing."

"When something drops a lot, it only shows that fewer people are willing to bid now than before. It cannot prove that it is already cheap."

"If a company’s value has also dropped by seventy percent along with it, then its stock dropping by sixty percent might actually still be expensive."

Satsuki gently nodded.

In crisis investing, the most core problem was this.

Many people saw stock prices plummeting and felt they had picked up a bargain, rushed in to buy at the bottom, and finally found that the gold they caught was actually just a falling knife.

Even if that knife was truly gold, it would only chop off the hands of the bottom-fisher.

They only saw "cheap prices."

Without confirming "whether the value is still there."

Satsuki looked at Buffett again.

This person was pretty much the same as his image in her past life data.

He wouldn’t obsess over those complex financial instruments and Wall Street jargon.

What he always cared about were just a few simple questions—

How much this thing was worth.

How bad things could get at worst.

Whether the person managing it was trustworthy.

What one would actually get for investing a dollar.

The reason she respected Buffett in her past life truly landed on this person in reality for the first time.

"Then does Mr. Buffett think Salomon is still worth saving now?"

"Worth it."

Buffett’s reply was equally straightforward.

"Berkshire itself is a shareholder of Salomon, I have no reason to watch my investment go under with open eyes."

"And I’ve also read the internal data, it’s about the same as your judgment."

He picked up the cola and took another sip.

"The only question is, how to save it."