"Goldman Sachs thinks this price is very stable." Frank rubbed his temples, trying to clear his head. "George and his people say that, considering the internet is a new concept, even though Netscape has hyped it up, it still doesn't have a profit model. And while we do make money, Wall Street's conservatives still need time to digest a business model based on selling virtual items. Set it a little lower, make the first-day gain look good, and everyone's happy."
"That's so their big clients can make the spread in the secondary market, and make Goldman Sachs's underwriting report card look a little prettier while they're at it." Nakayama Takuya tossed the document back onto the table with a crisp smack.
Tom raised an eyebrow and walked over to the small bar to pour himself a glass of water. "You think it's low?"
"It's not just low. It's practically charity." Nakayama Takuya leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. "Frank, you've been in this industry long enough. You should know the momentum right now. We're not selling software. We're selling tickets to a new world. And this ticket comes with a casino and a shopping mall built in. Look at Nasdaq right now. What it lacks is exactly this kind of story, one that can tell a tale and also produce cash flow."
"But if we set it too high, what if it breaks issue price—"
"It won't break issue price." Nakayama Takuya cut off Tom's worry. "Look at our financials. ICQ's user stickiness has already proven that we are the one and only giant in online social networking. And then there are those cash flows they can't understand. Those fund managers aren't stupid. They can tell what kind of company is a money-printing machine.