122: Chapter 122 Argentina's Default Triggers a Financial Tsunami

Finally, the year 1890 arrived.

With pockets cleaner than its face, the Argentine government shamelessly made a public announcement: sovereign debt default!

To put it simply, "I have no money to pay you back, so deal with it!"

Over the next two years, these South American rogues completely gave up, repeatedly announcing their inability to repay maturing debts.

This directly led to the complete bankruptcy of Argentina's sovereign credit in the international financial market, causing its reputation to plummet to something worse than dog shit.

This absolutely devastated the super-funders far away in London.

The oldest commercial bank in the British Empire, Baring Bank, became the biggest sucker because it had bet heavily on Argentina.

Faced with bad debts, Baring Bank instantly fell into a liquidity crisis, pushed to the brink of bankruptcy!

One must know that Baring Bank at the time was the undisputed banking hegemon of Europe, even reverently referred to by outsiders as the "Sixth Great Power of Europe"!

The sudden collapse of such a giant instantly dealt a heavy blow to the credibility of the entire British Empire's banking industry.

Panicked London citizens went mad, rushing desperately to major banks to demand full cash withdrawals, immediately triggering a deadly bank run that swept across Europe.

Thus, when this earth-shattering financial tsunami was transmitted to the USA via transoceanic telegraph...

...this hellish scene in the New York Stock Exchange became inevitable!

All investors were like startled birds. No matter what high-quality assets they held, only one thought remained in their minds: sell! Sell at all costs! Just convert it to cash!

Panic selling caused the book value of stocks to plummet like a waterfall.

However, before this group of red-eyed gamblers could catch their breath...

A senior NYSE trader dropped another bombshell:

"Latest news! 'Cordage Trust Company' has just formally filed for bankruptcy liquidation!"

*Buzz—*

In an instant, the stock of the Cordage Trust Company, which countless retail investors and institutions had viewed as a money-printing machine, turned into scrap paper too stiff even to wipe one's bottom!

One must know that this stock had been a superstar on Wall Street, dominating the charts for a long time!

Who knows how many people had listened to the sweet-talking of those elite Wall Street stockbrokers, selling everything they owned and even taking out high-interest loans to go all-in on this stock.

Yet now, it had suddenly gone bankrupt without any warning!

In an instant, the crowded NYSE spiraled completely out of control, turning into a literal Asura arena.

Wails of despair, sobs of collapse, and heart-wrenching curses intertwined, echoing through the sky and shaking dust from the ceiling.

And so...

The Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, which had not long ago opened with grand pomp in New York, inexplicably became the preferred sacred ground for these bankrupt souls to gather and jump to their deaths.

The reason was simple: this thirty-story landmark building was high enough to guarantee absolutely no chance of survival upon jumping.

Accompanied by a continuous series of dull thuds, bodies in suits fell like dumplings, smashing onto the hard pavement in front of the hotel.

This spectacle left the hotel's female receptionists deeply traumatized.

Later, whenever they saw a guest in a suit walk in, their instinctive first words even became:

"Sir, are you here to check in, or are you heading to the rooftop?"

For the next two full months, the economic state of the entire USA could only be described in two words: utterly devastating!

Following the collapse of the Cordage Trust...

The two major railroad giants—the Northern Pacific Railway and the Union Pacific Railroad—also declared bankruptcy one after another due to a complete break in their capital chains.

As long as one wasn't a fool, everyone realized: an unprecedented Great Depression had truly arrived!

With money kept in the bank, both principal and interest could go up in smoke at any moment!

Consequently, the completely maddened populace surged like a tide toward bank branches across America, frantically demanding to withdraw all their savings.

During those dark days, walking down any street in New York, one could see dense, endless queues of people snaking outside major banks.

In the face of this devastating bank run, even powerful financial giants like Citibank and Wells Fargo were not spared; their branches were packed to the brim.

...

Meanwhile...

Inside a secret underground facility that even the US intelligence agencies couldn't detect...

The layout of the entire hall was as solemn and majestic as the supreme court of ancient Rome.

On the circular tiered seating, several figures sat scattered, shrouded in the dim light.

"President L, in the face of this economic tsunami sweeping the nation, shouldn't our Umbrella Committee step in to intervene?"

A man sitting at the lower end of the hall, wearing a cold silver leopard mask, respectfully asked the superior for instructions.

"Everyone, since you have the privilege of being part of the Umbrella Committee, there is absolutely no need to panic over a crisis of this level."

The man sitting in the highest seat spoke slowly, his voice artificially processed to carry an imposing sense of authority.

He wore an exquisitely crafted pure gold panda mask on his face.

Below him sat over twenty men in an orderly fashion, all wearing silver masks.

The only identifying mark for these absolutely confidential big shots was a strange red-and-white Umbrella badge pinned to the left breast of each of their sharp suits!

At this moment, the man sitting to the left of the 'Gold Panda Mask', wearing a majestic pure gold lion mask, took over the conversation with his signature steady voice:

"Rest assured, gentlemen. As long as you remain formal members of Umbrella, the organization will use every means to provide you with unlimited interest-free commercial loans to help you sail through this crisis smoothly!"

"Please always believe in the strength and foundation of the organization! Do not forget, our Umbrella is a top-secret society personally founded by the great founding father, Lord George Washington, to guard the USA from the shadows!"

...

Chicago.

William Wrigley was an entrepreneur struggling in the sea of commerce.

He had originally started out by producing a low-quality soap under the brand name 'Wrigley'.

Later, seeing that the soap business was about to go under, he decisively pivoted and went into the more popular baking powder trade.

In 1892, Wrigley had a sudden inspiration and ran a buy-one-get-one promotion: as long as a merchant bought a can of baking powder from him, he would give them two packs of chewing gum for free.

To his surprise, this seemingly loss-making giveaway plan turned out to be a massive success in the market!

What surprised him even more was that this accidental promotion allowed him to see the terrifying potential hidden in the promotional chewing gum, which far surpassed his main baking powder business.

In that era, there were already at least a dozen chewing gum manufacturers popping up in the US market.

But the entire industry was still in a phase of wild, exploratory growth, with no true industry leader in sight.

With his sharp businessman's intuition, William Wrigley firmly believed that chewing gum was the code to wealth he had spent half his life searching for!

Thus, he resolutely abandoned the baking powder business, registered his own name as a trademark, and began to devote himself entirely to the production and distribution of chewing gum.

However, while his ideals were grand, reality dealt him a heavy blow.

How could it be so easy to gain a foothold in such a brutally competitive industry?

His 'Wrigley' chewing gum had zero brand recognition, whereas his established competitors' products had long since made a name for themselves in this territory.

In the early days of his venture, William Wrigley practically put his life on the line, handling all aspects of the business personally.

He racked his brains, constantly putting himself in the customers' shoes, trying to win over merchants with ultimate service.

Unfortunately, in an era that only recognized brands and capital, his approach simply didn't work. His products consistently failed to sell, and the warehouse was piled high with unsold inventory.

Just when he was on the verge of despair and preparing to file for bankruptcy liquidation...

One morning...

A mysterious black invitation strangely appeared on his desk.

On the envelope, an extremely eye-catching red-and-white Umbrella logo was printed.

Opening the letter, there was only a single, incredibly arrogant sentence:

"Do you want to bring your business back to life and have your chewing gum completely monopolize the global market?"

On the back of the letter, a remote address was attached.

Under normal circumstances, William Wrigley would have definitely dismissed this as a malicious prank by some competitor and thrown it into the trash without hesitation.

But this time was different.

On one hand, the material of this invitation was extremely exquisite, and the colored gold-stamping printing process on the cover was of a top-tier quality he had never even heard of; it didn't look like a prank an ordinary person could pull off.

On the other hand, he was truly pushed to the brink now. His products couldn't break into the market, and his entire life savings, which he had poured in earlier, seemed to have vanished without a trace.

If he couldn't secure funding or orders, William Wrigley would have to jump off a building by next month at the latest.

This sudden, mysterious invitation was like a lifesaving straw dangling in the dark. Even knowing there were risks, he couldn't help but want to reach out and grab it.

So, gritting his teeth and adopting a 'do-or-die' attitude, he went looking for the address written in the letter.

Following the map's guidance, his route grew increasingly remote.

When he arrived, the first thing that met his eyes was a large, abandoned forest with weeds reaching up to his knees, surrounded by a tall, rusty iron fence.

On the iron gate fence, a weathered warning sign hung: 'Private Property! No Trespassing! Violators Will Be Prosecuted!'

The dilapidated scene looked exactly like the ruins of a suburban chemical plant that had been abandoned for decades.

Seeing this eerie scene, William Wrigley's heart instantly sank.

He had originally fantasized that even if the headquarters of the mysterious organization capable of backing him wasn't magnificent, it should at least be a heavily guarded, high-class club. But this dump?

He turned around, cursing himself for being so desperate as to seek help anywhere, and prepared to head home, chalking it up to a prank.

But after taking just a couple of steps, he stopped again.

The feeling of unwillingness welled up inside him: *Since I'm already here, I might as well go in and see what's going on!*

In the bones of the Americans, there was always a bit of a daredevil spirit.

So, summoning his courage, he walked up to the rusty iron gate that was left ajar with a chain.

The iron gate wasn't locked. He pushed it open with force, making a harsh scraping sound, and cautiously stepped inside.

However, just as his feet stepped onto that weed-choked land, before he could even make out his surroundings...

A heavy blow struck the back of his head. His vision went black, and he instantly lost consciousness, collapsing limply to the ground.

A split second before his consciousness faded completely into darkness, he faintly heard voices speaking near his ear:

"Target identity confirmed. He has the invitation on him."

"Target level verified: B4-grade potential talent in the business sector!"

"We got the right guy. Pack him up, load him into the vehicle, and bring him back to the castle for interrogation!"

Immediately afterward, William Wrigley fell into a deep coma.