It was 3:47 AM. Not London time. Singapore time. He’d been on the desk for thirty-one hours straight, mainlining Monster and the faint, rotting hope that Eric Tao might finally say “Good job, kid.”
“I’ve blown the book.”
He didn’t know yet if that meant the axe or the anointing. But as he walked, legs numb, he realized: in this industry, season 2 wasn’t about surviving the trade. It was about surviving the walk across the carpet. industry s02 dthrip
Silence. Then the faraway screech of a janitor’s cart. Then—the door to Eric’s office swung open. The old lion emerged, shirt untucked, eyes like a shark who’d smelled blood three miles off. It was 3:47 AM
His screen flickered. A fat-fingered trade. A mis-click on sterling futures—short instead of long. The position bled thirty grand a second. He’d been on the desk for thirty-one hours