The first oo ask questions was Bob, obviously ied in iments and their implications. Surprisingly, Warren Lynch promptly answered every teical question from Bob.

  "Iing long-term in solid panies allows you to take advantage of the steady market growth," Mr. Lynch expiedly while showing Bob a chart. Judging by Bob's intrigued expression, it was clear he couldn't grasp the information.

  After answering Bob's question, Mr. Lynch fell silent. With a smile, he read one of his charts. A moment ter, Lynch, losing his smile, started shuffling through papers on his desk with growing ay, searg for something amid the disorder.

  The etri's as heightened Bob's existing . Gng at me with a worried look, Bob silently oward the office door.

  Uanding Bob's , I nodded i. My pns involved starting to i at this moment in my life. It ity that the first person we entered was someone as etric as Warren Lynch. This would only dey all my opportunities.

  Looking at Mr. Lynch, who seemed to have found whatever he had been searg for among his papers, I decided I had nothing to lose by asking.

  "Mr. Lynch, if you had an initial capital of a huhousand dolrs, where would you i it?" I asked, testing the man.

  Upon hearing his name, Mr. Lynch lifted his head from his desk. "Well, young man, that depends a lot on how willing I am to risk my money," he cheerfully said. "A huhousand dolrs may sound like a lot, but it really isn't. So, I'll assume I don't want to risk that capital," he tinued while quickly grabbing a piece of paper from his desk.

  "If I think of a safe long-term iment, I might sider real estate, usually a moderately priced residential property. Taking into at property taxes and traaxes iate of Texas, possibly, and being generous, I could buy two properties that could double or triple their value in the ing decades," he expined while writing on the paper without pausing.

  "Now, if we want to take a bit more risk for better gains, we could ihe capital iock market, looking for a pany with a solid financial history to ehat, despite being somewhat riskier than buying and selling real estate, it is retively safe," he tinued while speaking and scribbling on the paper at a fast pace.

  "Then we have the riskiest of all, short selling," he said, pausing slightly in his scribbling. "With a huhousand dolrs, this option might not be the best to take. I would wait for my capital to grow before delving into short selling," he cluded, handing over the paper he had been w on i few seds with a small smile.

  Bob took the paper, frow it for a few seds, then ha to me, shrugging, apparently not uanding Mr. Lynch's scribbles.

  The paper tained many calcutions that I could reize as probability calcutions, along with a variety of charts divided into three ses. It wasn't really plicated to uand that the subdivisions referred to short, medium, and long-term, as well as the risk of each option.

  "If I wao i iock market, whipanies would you reend?" I asked the smiling man again, making him extend his smile even further as he quickly stood up.

  "That's a great question. Many would reend 'safe' iments, trusting in the overall ey of the try, oil, metals, gover bonds," he said while shuffling through a stack of papers on one of his furniture pieces. "Ahey are certainly iments with a great potential frowth," he tinued, now carrying aack of papers to his desk. "But I lean more towards betting oure," he said, leaving the dots on his desk.

  "Teology?" I asked, feeling more fident as I watched the man smile broadly.

  "Exactly, my teenage friend," the man affirmed excitedly. "There has never been such a boom in an eic sector like teology before – unications, transportation, medie, sce, many more things that I'm sure we haven't seen anything of yet," he ented with a growiatic smile. "Personally, I've ied a signifit portion of my own ine in various teology panies," he said, ign Bob and handing me dot after dot piling numbers and stock prices of different panies. Names like IBM, Intel, Sun Microsystems appeared promily on eaent until one caught my attention.

  "What do you think of this pany, Microsoft?" I said, setting aside one of the dots.

  "You have a good eye," the man nodded vigorously. If possible, he widened his smile even more. "Sis IPO in eey-seven until this year, its annual stock price has grown by two hundred pert," surprisingly, without needing to chey notes, he said with great excitement.

  "Although Microsoft is definitely a pany worth iing in, if I only had an initial capital of a huhousand dolrs, I would allocate no more thay pert for those shares. The rest I would divide among these others," much more serious than Bob and I had seen him before, he pushed two dots into my hands.

  Cisco Systems and Oracle read at the top of the pages.

  I had never heard of them.

  Before I could ask, Mr. Lynch began to expin, "it went public a few months ago, Cisco Systems is a teology pany that focuses on the development of w equipment and teologies. Unlike Microsoft, which focuses oing system development, Cisco Systems is w on what seems to be the future – mae-to-mae unication," cryptically, the man decred. "Imagialking to someone in another try within minutes," he expined dreamily, causing Bob to involuntarily snort.

  "What they're w on is the creation of a work system. It may seem futuristic, but it's real," feeling the o speak again, the man expio Bob.

  Looking at one of the papers in my hand, I didn't know how to react. If what Mr. Lynch said was true, Cisco Systems ossibly a great option to i in.

  "Oracle, oher hand, is focused on developing database ma systems. For several months, I've been trying to vihe bank to purchase this product because, as I mentioned before, I always like to bet oure," smiling, the man leaned ba his chair, crossing his hands.

  Seeing the multitude of papers in his office, I was sure why the man insisted on the baing a database manager.

  Previously unsure due to his etric behavior, with the st data he cimed, for someone like Bob, it might seem like sce fi, but for me, it was an obvious choice – Warren Lynew what he was talking about.

  Excited about what I could achieve with someone like Lynch managing my money, I was about to accept and hire him as my stockbroker until I remembered Bob by my side.

  " we discuss it for a moment?" I silently asked Mr. Lynch, requesting that he give Bob and me space to talk.

  Uanding the silent request, the man got up from his chair, "I think I fot something; I'll be ba a moment," unfortably, he left his own office, stumbling and almost falling with a bunch of papers in his path.

  "What is there to discuss, PJ? The man is clearly insane," immediately as Mr. Lynch left his office, Bob

  , shaking his head, stood up.

  "His attitude may be a bit etric," I said, trying to stop Bob. "Well, quite etric," I corrected myself, seeing the look of disbelief on Bob's face, "but I think he knows what he's talking about," I quickly tinued.

  "I don't know, PJ," Bob was saying, "no, Dad, listen to me. Right now, what he says exists, but it's still retively small, eg only a few puters to each other. I'm pletely sure that in a few years, there will be a very rge work of es all over the world. If what he says is true and these panies are preparing for this, we have to take advantage of it," I interrupted.

  "I don't think it's safe, PJ. We o think about it and—" still uain, Bob was saying, "I have a feeling," I interrupted seriously, hoping that it would be reason enough to vince him.

  Seeing how Bob still wasirely vinced, "Dad, it's a on-a-lifetime opportunity. I know it's not a great reasoning, but it's the same feeling I had with the bet," I said calmly, "if we don't do this, I'm sure we'll regret it iure," I quickly tinued, preventing my statement from b him.

  Deep in thought, Bob nodded. "Okay," he finally said after releasing a sigh, making me ch my fists in celebration. "But," he tinued immediately, interrupting my small celebration, "I have ditions."

  Nodding quickly, I nervously said, "Yes, whatever."

  "Yrades will stay perfect, enough to get one of those incredible schorships at a medical school. You will also finish a degree. If you lose i in medie, then in something else," the man said seriously.

  "It would be hypocritie to deny you this. This money did, although the way you acquired it won't happen again; it still belongs to you, and you deserve to do with it as you please," he admitted, defeated. "At least I'm relieved that you use it thinking about your future," he added with a small relieved smile.

  "Thank you, Dad," I thahe man, feeling a weight I didn't know I had on my shoulders disappear. With this, I was sure to secure my future.

  "You're wele, PJ. Now that he's back, I have a few more questions for the man, and then you do whatever you want," he ordered, leaving no room fotiation.

  Gratefully nodding, I waited with Bob for Mr. Lynch to return.

  A few mier, Lynch returned with a small gss in his hands.

  "I have a few more questions for you, Mr. Lynch," Bob asked as soon as the man took a seat behind his desk.

  With much more serioushan before, Lynch prepared in his seat to ahem.

  Bob asked dozens of questions, all reted to the security of my money if we decided to i in the pahe man spoke about.

  "I assure you, Mr. Dun, if you allow me to be your stockbroker, I will eo execute the orders you give me to the letter. I will also provide you with the best financial advice that my education allows. I research the market every day; you be sure that I will do everything possible to grow your money," surprisingly professionally, the man affirmed.

  "Good," Bob agreed seriously.

  "Perfect," Mr. Lynch cheered, "let me expin what it means for me to be your broker," he was saying.

  "Oh, no, it would be a service for PJ," Bob expined proudly.

  "Ah, then, my young friend," excitedly, the man nodded.

  Pulling out several papers from his portfolio, Mr. Lynch began to expin the fees and issioed to managing a portfolio, as well as reted taxes and a bunch of teical things that we simply had to trust.

  "Since my young friend is still underage, the tray services as well as the bank's services must be signed by a guardian," the man expined, handing the tract to Bob, who slowly began to read it. "It's basically written there what I just expio you with many legal teical words. This tract is valid for a period of ten years; then we draft another one, but until then, you be sure that the fees will not ge," while Bob read the tract extensively, Mr. Lynch expined.

  With the pen in his hand, Bob looked at me seeking approval, and nervously, I nodded quickly.

  "Perfect," Mr. Lynch celebrated with a big smile, "you are my first ts. Let's get rich together," he decred excitedly.

  The revetion surprised Bob, making him start coughing vigorously.

  Uo help it, I ughed at his rea. I, too, had been a bit surprised until I thought about the way the man behaves. It's not strahat people don't have enough fiden his words; if I didn't e from a few years iure, I'm not sure I would have trusted him either.

  "So, how do you pn to i your money?" the man asked, pulling another bnk sheet from his desk.

  After outlining what would be my iment pn, dividing the two huhousand dolrs into the panies Mr. Lynch had reended, as well as Microsoft, just to be sure, we bid farewell to Mr. Lynch with two huhousand dolrs less in my savings at.

  "Well, you still have fifteen thousand dolrs quite good in your at," Bob ented amusingly as we walked out of the hallway where the stockbroker's office was located.

  "We have to withdraw moo pay for the car and buy ice cream for Teddy and her friends," I reminded Bob.

  "True," with a pained expression, Bob nodded, probably calg the remaining money in my at as we walked towards one of the tellers.

  Quickly with the at passbook in hand, Bob withdrew two thousand dolrs from my savings at.

  Upon leaving the bank, Bob checked his wristwatch, "look at that, we took lohan I could expect. We go get your brother now," Bob said, opening the door to his awful truck.

  Still with many papers specifying my iments in my hands, I got into Bob's truck.

  The trip to Gabe's new "music school" was quite fast, in a house not far from the bank. Bob quickly got out and, a few seds ter, returned with a smiling Gabe carrying his backpack.

  "PJ!" the excited boy shouted my name as soon as he got into the car.

  "Hello, buddy, how was your first day?" I asked.

  "It ectacur," the ecstatic boy affirmed. "My teacher is great; he has a guitar that ects to a bck box called an amplifier, a me py it. He said I have the greatest talent he has ever seen. He also knows how to py the piano and said he would teach me that too," the boy quickly expined with excitement, demonstrating his age.

  "I'm happy for you, little one, but just because yood at it doesn't mean you shouldn't make an effort," I expined, supported by Bob.

  "Yes, I know; Mr. Ray said the same thing," Gabe seriously affirmed.

  A few mier, with Gabe still expining everything he learned with his teacher, we arrived at the ice cream shop. "And ice cream too?" Gabe asked cheerfully. "Today is the best day ever," he asserted, quickly getting out of the car as soon as Bob parked.

  Following Gabe into the store after receiving Bob's orders, "choose whatever you want, little one, my treat," pushing Gabe slightly, who seemed surprised by my statement, I ehe shop.

  After buying a few liters of ice cream, we returo the truck, Gabe happily lig his own ice cream.

  When we arrived home, "I'll go with Gee to get the car; you go and deliver the ice cream," Bob ordered as he walked towards the Cooper's house.

  Following Gabe into the house, I separated from my little brother, who ran to our room, probably excited to put into practice what he had learned in his csses. Leaving the ice creams on the dining table, I walked to Teddy's room.

  After knog on the door, I waited a few seds until my sister allowed me to enter.

  "Hello, Baja, Bianca, how are you?" I greeted Teddy's friends, who seemed surprised after I remembered their names.

  "How's your sister, Bianca?" seizing the opportunity, I asked after receiving responses from both teenagers.

  "She's fine, I guess," the teenager responded without seeming very sure.

  "I'm gd," I affirmed

  , unsure about her response. "Well, there's ice cream on the dining table; help yourselves befabe remembers there's more ice cream," I tinued while saying goodbye to the teenagers, leaving the house again.

  Outside the house, Bob was already chatting happily with Mr. Cooper o his truck. "There you are. Let's go; Gee offered to give us a ride in his truck," ughing, Bob friendly hit Mr. Cooper's shoulder, opening the passenger door of Mr. Cooper's truck. Bob indicated for me to get in.

  The jouro Brock's uncle's house was, in one word, cramped. Being sandwiched betweewo burly men while guiding Mr. Cooper from memory to Brock's uncle's house, where I would buy the car, was an experience I wouldn't want to repeat, ever.

  "It's there, where the 'sold' sign is," I said, pointing to Brock's uncle's house.

  After Mr. Cooper parked his car, the three of us got out, me leading the way ahead of the two adults, who stayed back to reveal the car. I knocked on the door, stepping back a pad waiting for the man to e out.

  With a big smile, which was immediately wiped off his face, Brock's uncle opehe door. "It's you, kid. I thought you wouldn't e," he said defeatedly as he stepped out of the house, looking at where his car was. "Debbie," I overheard him whisper longingly.

  "Yes, sorry for the dey, Mr. Kingman." We hadn't actually agreed on a time, but seeing his mood, I'm sure this approach is much better.

  "Ah, it's okay," the man sighed, still staring at the car.

  "No way," we suddenly heard Mr. Cooper say. "Jet Kingman," the man tinued as he approached.

  Brock's uncle quickly wiped his eyes from what seemed like tiny tears before ging his expression to a bright smile, cheerfully approag Mr. Cooper with a big ugh.

  "Do you guys know each other?" Bob asked while greeting Mr. Kingman with a firm handshake. "Bob Dun," he introduced himself, receiving Mr. Kingman's name iurn.

  "Oh no, Jet here was in his senior year wheered high school. The best rag record this town has ever seen," Mr. Cooper pointed out with excitement, gesturing to Brock's uncle, ted the words with false modesty. "Yes, that was a great time," Mr. Kingman admitted with false humility. "Now, I don't know what the current coach is doing. If it weren't for the game these kids won, I would bet the coach either doesn't know how to do his job or just doesn't want to do it," the man tinued mogly, surprising everyone present, especially Mr. Cooper, the current coach, who began to cough bitterly.

  "So, the car, PJ told me about it," Bob quickly ged the subject, fog attention on the now uncovered car a few steps away.

  "Ah yes, Debbie. Unfortunately, my wife doesn't want us to take her to ada with us, and I couldn't do anything else but sell her," the man approached the car with sadness, lightly caressing the top of the car. He leaned slightly, apparently whispering words to the car.

  "Well, I just wao make sure PJ isn't making a mistake," Bob expined as he approached the car. " we start it?" he asked.

  Mr. Kingman, who had kept his face close to the car, took a few seds to respond. "Sure," he said as he moved away from the car, walking back to the house.

  "It seems like you have a mag for etric people," Bob ughed as Mr. Kingmaered his house.

  "I don't do my job well," the offended Mr. Cooper snorted as he also walked he car.

  "Don′t hear that Coach. You do your job very well," I assured the annoyed man.

  Shaking his head with a small smile, "thanks, son," Mr. Cooper said, lightly patting my back.

  "Okay, let's hear Debbi roar," Mr. Kingmaurned outside with the car key in hand, a sad expression on his face.

  Bob and Mr. Cooper started testing the car, iing both the exterior and the interior. Surely, Mr. Cooper, not pleased with Mr. Kingman's opinion about the way he does his job, articurly meticulous in all aspects of the car, even seriously cheg the engine.

  "How much did you agree on?" Bob asked calmly.

  "Fifteen hundred," Mr. Kingman replied with pain.

  "All right, that seems like a fair price," Bob nodded, givihe go-ahead to proceed with the payment.

  "I've got your money here, Mr. Kingman," as I pulled out the small stack of bills, I tried to hand it to the man, who tightly held the key in his hand.

  Seeing that he didn't accept the money, I was about to lower my hand until, "Kevin!" from the doorway, Brock's aunt, whom I had met a few days ago, came out swiftly. "How are you, dear? How's Joey doing?" as she passed by me, maintaining a friendly smile, she asked while snatg the key from the relut man's hand.

  "He's doing fine," I assured the woman.

  "Well, that's perfect. Please keep an eye on him," the woman kindly requested, and then, turning to Kevin, she said, "and you, Kevin, go get the damn papers," immediately gititude, the woman ordered her husband, who quickly nodded and ran into the house.

  "There you go," the woman said, handing the car key while keeping her palm open, waiting for the money, which I quickly handed over, somewhat intimidated by her abrupt ges in attitude.

  A moment ter, Mr. Kingman came out of the house carrying a small folder in one hand and a pen iher.

  Still relut and with teary eyes, Mr. Kingman seemed not to want to open the dots. "Oh, drop the act, Kevin," exasperated, the woman snatched the papers from her husband's palm, opening the papers for the property transfer. "You just have to sign this, and that's it, dear," gititude again with a friendly smile, the woman handed me the papers.

  After Mr. Kingmaantly forced by his wife, and I sighe papers, we bid farewell to the couple as Mr. Kingman was dragged by his partner into the house.

  "That's not something you see every day," Bob joked, nodding along with Mr. Cooper, who was getting into his trud mog the couple.

  "Let's go," Bob said, walking up to the car. "Your mom says you know how to drive; let's see if that's true," he tinued, getting into the passenger side.

  Upourning home after parking the car and having Bob thank Mr. Cooper, I ehe house to do my pending tasks and study the book House had left me.

  While Gabe pyed one of his guitars, I was entirely focused on studying the book. "Patrick John Dart Dun!" suddenly, my name was shouted by an obviously upset woman.

  ---

  Author's Thoughts:

  As always, I'm not Ameri, Not a Doctor AND not a Brocker/Eics/Banker/Nothing (thats a new one).

  The first chapter of the year.

  So, I ged the name from Warren Buffett to Warren Lynch (Lynch apparently being anreat ior in history, so I just bihe two hink of "Warren Lynch" as an OC). The character will essentially be a prodigy in iments and a person with great work ethic, so from now on, I must say there won't be a subplot involving issues with iments. Money is just something that will facilitate things in the development of the story, pletely separate from the general idea of the plot.

  Having said that,

  I think that's it. As always, if you find any errors, let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

  Thanks for reading! :D

  PS: LEAVE A REVIEW, please.