Chapter 62 Trying to Short Me? I'll Use System Funds to Crush the Short Sellers

A hint of red tinged the corners of Shen Qingqiu's eyes.

She stared at the slouching man on the sofa, her breathing somewhat heavy.

A demand notice for three billion USD lay scattered on the coffee table; the black and white text looked like a death warrant.

Lu Jingming's fingers swiped rapidly across the screen.

"Swish—" A flash of silvery blade light swept past, the watermelon on the screen split into two, and the red juice special effects splattered everywhere.

"The house is on fire and you still have the heart to slice watermelons?"

Shen Qingqiu slammed her hand onto the phone screen, blocking Lu Jingming's view.

Lu Jingming took the opportunity to let go and tossed the phone into the corner of the sofa.

He rubbed his wrists and looked up at Shen Qingqiu.

"If the sky falls, use it as a blanket. What's there to panic about?"

"Three billion USD!"

Shen Qingqiu raised her voice, her high heels clicking sharply against the wooden floor.

"You know the foreign exchange controls in this country. If this money doesn't arrive by tomorrow, all seven overseas contract factories will have to shut down!"

Lu Jingming stood up and walked to the desk.

"Then we won't route it through domestic accounts."

He pulled open a drawer, fished out a pure black matte card, and dangled it between his fingertips.

This was, of course, a ruse.

Just a moment ago, the system in his mind had been buzzing like a pot of boiling porridge.

That previous press conference, which had shocked foreigners across the globe, combined with Apple being forced to neuter its system and facing a wave of returns.

The "break defense" value accumulated over these past few days had long since crossed the eight-million mark.

The number flashed with a blinding golden light on the holographic panel.

Lu Jingming didn't hesitate; he directly clicked on the [Wealth Exchange Pool] in the corner of the system interface.

As the "break defense" value was deducted like a waterfall, piles of absolutely clean offshore funds flooded into his secret overseas accounts.

"Take this."

Lu Jingming slapped the black card into Shen Qingqiu's hand; it felt icy cold.

"It's a Swiss bank black card; the password is the date our factory was founded."

Shen Qingqiu clutched the card, stunned, her brows knitted together.

"Where did you get an overseas account? How much is in there?"

Lu Jingming pulled over a swivel chair, sat down, and crossed his legs.

"Not much. Take three billion to pay off the final balance and make them shut up."

He paused, a bloodthirsty curve tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Take the remaining ten billion and bleed those vampires on Wall Street a little."

Shen Qingqiu's hand trembled, and she nearly dropped the card.

She adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, suspecting something was wrong with her ears.

"Ten billion? USD?!"

She hurried to the computer in her high heels.

She expertly logged into the Swiss bank's international online banking portal and entered the account number and password.

The page buffered for two seconds.

When that long string of numbers appeared, Shen Qingqiu felt her heart skip a beat.

Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands...

A full thirteen billion USD lay quietly in the current balance.

"Did you rob the Federal Reserve's vault?"

Shen Qingqiu turned her head, looking at Lu Jingming as if he were an alien monster.

This massive cash flow was thicker than the entire net worth of many established multinational giants.

Lu Jingming chuckled and lit a cigarette.

"Don't worry about where the money came from; it's perfectly clean. Tonight, take people to the financial operations room on the third floor."

He exhaled a cloud of blue smoke and looked at her through the haze.

"Doesn't Soros like to crash the market and short it?"

Shen Qingqiu's expression gradually changed.

Her background from Wall Street investment banking was awakened, and the wolfish nature in her bones began to stir.

"You mean we're going to counter-defend the market?"

"Defending the market is so boring."

Lu Jingming tapped his fingers on the desk, making a "tut-tut" sound.

"I want you to go long. Use this ten billion USD as leverage to squeeze the shorts."

He stubbed out the cigarette, stood up straight, and a cruel light shone in his eyes.

"Take those contract factory stocks they're shorting and squeeze them into oblivion for me."

"I want Soros to lose so much tonight that he'll have to pawn his own underwear."

Shen Qingqiu gripped the black card tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white.

She didn't waste any more words, turned around, and walked out the door, her silhouette exuding the sharpness of a female warrior.

"I'll take the job. I'll show you Wall Street's obituary tomorrow morning."

Late night in Donghai City.

On the other side of the ocean in Manhattan, however, it was a bright, sunny morning.

Wall Street, in the top-floor trading room of a top-tier hedge fund.

The scent of high-end cigars drifted through the air.

George Soros leaned back on a leather sofa, holding a glass of expensive champagne.

The large screen flashed pre-market data for the US stock market.

"Mr. Soros, the pre-market bidding for those Xinghai Technology contract factories has already fallen by ten points."

A suit-clad fund manager leaned in, his face full of sycophancy.

"Those Chinese people definitely can't come up with the three billion USD to settle the bill. As soon as the market opens today, these stocks will collapse."

Soros swirled his glass, the golden liquid clinging to the sides.

He took a sip and sighed comfortably.

"They expanded too quickly; they're just a bunch of upstarts with no financial common sense."

Soros stood up and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window.

Below was a crowd of people as busy as ants.

"Are the short positions all set up?" he asked coldly.

"All positions have been built, with five times leverage."

The fund manager wiped his sweat, his eyes gleaming with a smile.

"As long as we crash through the support level at the opening, we can make at least one billion in profit today."

"One billion is too little. I want to crash these contract factories until they are delisted."

Soros placed his champagne glass on the windowsill.

"Only then will Xinghai Technology's industrial chain in North America completely rot. The final payment from Apple should be coming soon, right?"

"Mr. Cook said that as long as Xinghai Technology cuts off supply, the money will arrive immediately."

The two exchanged smiles, as if they had already seen the image of Lu Jingming kneeling and begging for mercy.

The electronic clock on the wall clicked to nine-thirty.

The US stock market officially opened.

Soros turned around and looked at the big screen with composure.

He waited to watch those green K-line candles crash down like a waterfall.

(Note: In the US stock market, green means down, and red means up.)

"Crash the market. Throw out all the remaining chips in our hands."

Soros gave the order.

The traders' fingers flew across the keyboards.

Sell orders for millions of shares slammed into the market like stones.

The stock price did indeed drop a little.

But it only dropped for less than two seconds.

"Ding—" The trading system's alarm suddenly sounded once.

Soros frowned but didn't think much of it.

Immediately after.

"Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!"

In the entire trading room, the alarms of a dozen computers went off simultaneously like crazy.

Red warning boxes popped up all over the screens.

"What's going on!"

The fund manager lunged at the computer, staring intensely at the market data.

His face instantly lost all color, and even his lips were trembling.

On the board, massive buy orders appeared out of thin air.

Fifty million USD.

Two hundred million USD.

Five hundred million USD!

These long funds surged into the market violently like a reckless mudslide.

The short-selling chips Soros had thrown out were swallowed up whole without even making a splash.

The stock price, which had been falling just moments ago, shot straight to the sky like it was riding a rocket.

It pulled a long, large red bullish candle directly!

"What the hell! Where did all this money come from!"

Soros pushed the fund manager aside and leaned into the screen himself, his blue eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

"It's still rising! The support level is broken! The resistance level is broken too!"

The trader grabbed his hair and screamed.

"Mr. Soros! There is super-massive capital sweeping the market regardless of cost! They are squeezing the shorts!"

A short squeeze.

These two words hit Soros in the chest like a heavy hammer.

This meant that if the stock price continued to rise, they, the people who borrowed stocks to short, would have to buy them back at a higher price to close their positions.

"Suppress it! Use the reserve funds to crash it for me!"

Soros was getting desperate; his tie was roughly yanked askew.

"We can't crash it, boss!"

The fund manager's legs went weak, and he knelt directly on the carpet.

"The other side has dumped at least ten billion in cash! Our five-times leverage is about to be liquidated!"

The stock price on the big screen was still skyrocketing.

Ten percent.

Twenty percent.

Fifty percent!

Those contract factory stocks were forcefully dragged into becoming super-bull stocks by this influx of outside capital.

Donghai City, Xinghai Technology third-floor operations room.

Shen Qingqiu took off her suit jacket, wearing only a white shirt.

Her eyes were fixed on dozens of screens, and her fingers tapped on the keyboard so fast they left afterimages.

"Dump all one billion from account number three in!"

She gritted her teeth and issued the order coldly.

"Nobody is allowed to stop until we've forced these short-sellers to the rooftop today!"

In the Wall Street trading room, there was deathly silence.

Only the roar of computer cooling fans remained.

Soros slumped on the leather sofa, breaking out in a cold sweat.

In just half an hour, their short positions had been squeezed three times.

The loss figure on the books had rolled up to a level that made him dizzy.

"Bang!"

The door to the trading room was kicked open.

A risk control manager scrambled in, holding a liquidation notice in his hand.

"Mr. Soros! We've gone into negative equity!"

The risk control manager's face was pale, and his voice was shaking like a sieve.

Soros held the armrest of the sofa with trembling hands.

He stared fixedly at the liquidation notice, a wheezing sound leaking from his throat.

"How much... did we lose?"

The risk control manager swallowed dryly and looked at him in despair.

"The liquidation line has been breached. Including the margin and leverage losses..."

He paused, tears streaming down his face.

"Boss, we lost three billion USD in one morning. We're bankrupt."