106: Chapter 106 Stock Market Crash, Countless People Jumping to Their Deaths, I'm Opening Champagne

The clouds over Manhattan seemed lower than usual, gloomily pressing down on the spires of the skyscrapers.

A chill radiating from the bones penetrated the reinforced bulletproof glass and permeated the spacious office.

Chen Yuan stood with his hands behind his back.

He looked down at Broadway below; the once busy and orderly traffic had long since descended into chaos, and the shrill sound of sirens echoed wildly between the buildings.

The sound was desolate.

But to Chen Yuan's ears, it was the most beautiful funeral knell for a crumbling empire.

"Bang."

A dull thud came from the distance; it was the sound of a heavy object striking the roof of a car.

Another one.

Chen Yuan lifted the tulip glass in his hand, watching the pale golden liquid swirl against the sides of the glass.

"How many is that?" he asked softly.

Alice stood behind him to the side, the red light in her eyes flickering in the dimness.

"The seventeenth."

Her voice had no inflection, calm enough to make one shudder.

"This is the seventeenth person on Wall Street in the last ten minutes to choose to end their life via freefall."

Chen Yuan took a sip of champagne.

The delicate bubbles burst on the tip of his tongue, carrying a cool, fruity aroma.

"These old foxes, when they are harvesting the public, always love to talk about bearing your own risks."

"When it's their turn to lose, their ability to cope is surprisingly poor."

He turned around, leaning his back against the floor-to-ceiling window that offered a view of the hellish scene.

At this moment, Wall Street had become a massive, bloody slaughterhouse.

The stock of the Johnson & Johnson Group, after experiencing several meaningless circuit breakers, had turned into waste paper.

It was the savings of thousands of middle-class families.

It was also the foundation upon which countless capital tycoons relied for survival.

But what did that have to do with Chen Yuan?

He was only responsible for lighting the fire.

As for whose house burned down, that depended on the direction of the wind.

"Boss, should we withdraw our capital?"

Alice walked forward, holding a real-time updated financial weekly report in her hand.

Chen Yuan shook his head.

"No, now is the best time to scavenge."

"In the wreckage of those smashed empires, there are many interesting technologies hidden."

"The Johnson & Johnson laboratories, their patent libraries, and even those scientists who have nowhere left to turn."

He extended the champagne glass into the air, and Alice refilled it with tacit understanding.

"We must be like vultures, patiently waiting for the scent of decay."

"When they are completely desperate, I will be their only God."

The chaos outside the window continued to escalate.

Protesting crowds began to storm the buildings, and flames faintly appeared in certain corners.

Yet Chen Yuan smiled happily.

The thrill of controlling everything made the genes in his body tremble slightly.

"This is Wall Street."

"Yesterday you were God, today you might be a pile of mud."

He walked to the sofa and sat down, his posture wild and uninhibited.

"How is the situation with Andrea?"

"She has taken over all the prime-time slots on the television stations."

Alice swiped the tablet screen, projecting the images onto the wall.

"All of America is discussing the scandals of Johnson & Johnson; no one cares who the mastermind is."

"The scales of public opinion are now completely tilted in our favor."

Chen Yuan closed his eyes in satisfaction.

This feeling of manipulating the threads of fate from behind the scenes was more addictive to him than killing directly.

"Boss, Victor is outside the door."

"Let him in."

Chen Yuan opened his eyes.

Victor walked in; the fat man's face was full of the excitement of having survived a disaster.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, clutching an envelope in his hand.

"Boss, we won! We won so thoroughly!"

He was somewhat incoherent, the fat on his face trembling as he spoke.

"Those old guys at Johnson & Johnson can't even get in line to commit suicide now!"

"All of America is looking for trouble with us, but all of America is also begging for our medicine!"

Chen Yuan glanced at him coldly.

"There is no need to run over here to tell me such nonsense."

Victor shrunk his neck and hurriedly handed over what was in his hand.

"Yes, boss."

"This was just delivered to the front desk; they specifically requested it be handed to you personally."

It was an all-black envelope.

The envelope had no mailing marks.

The only decoration was a dark gold wax seal at the opening.

It was an ancient crest, the pattern being crossed spears and a shield.

Chen Yuan took the envelope; it felt somewhat heavy.

It had the texture of expensive parchment.

He gently sliced it open with his fingertip.

Inside was only a similarly pitch-black hard card.

The dark gold handwriting was vigorous, carrying an arrogance that had been baptized by centuries.

"Mr. Chen:"

"A brilliant hunt."

"But in the forests of New York, there are not only a few sickly Johnson & Johnson sheep."

"Tomorrow night at eight, Sagamore Estate."

"I hope to discuss with you the distribution of 'tomorrow'."

There was no name at the bottom of the card.

There was only a surname that would make all of America, and even the world, tremble.

—Rockefeller.

Chen Yuan looked at those letters, rubbing them gently with his fingers.

Rockefeller.

The family known as "the family built on oil."

The shadow behind the scenes that truly controlled the underlying logic of America.

Compared to them, a so-called giant like Johnson & Johnson was indeed just a sheep waiting to be slaughtered.

"Boss, this is a trap."

Alice leaned over, saw the signature, and her tone revealed a gravity never seen before.

"They must have discovered the existence of the type-z ore."

Chen Yuan threw the card onto the table.

The card spun and stopped on top of the stack of data sheets regarding the short-selling profits.

"So what if they discovered it?"

He stood up and walked to the liquor cabinet behind his desk.

It contained a bottle of vintage 19th-century whiskey.

He poured a little, his eyes becoming extremely sharp.

"In this world, all invitations are actually only of two types."

"One is to treat, the other is to bury."

Chen Yuan downed the whiskey in one gulp.

"If they want to invite me to dinner, I will bring my appetite."

"If they want to bury me..."

He turned to look at Alice.

"Boss, what needs to be prepared?"

Chen Yuan curled the corners of his mouth into a cruel arc.

He looked out the window at the devastated Wall Street.

His gaze was like that of someone looking at a massive cemetery.

"Prepare."

"Since we are attending a banquet of this caliber, we cannot lose our manners."

"Call Ada Wong."

"Bring along the batch of 'big guys' we just cultivated."

"I want to make these old foxes understand one thing."

Chen Yuan said word by word.

"In this era, the one who can determine the distribution rights of 'tomorrow'..."

"Is neither oil nor gold."

He walked to the door and suddenly stopped.

"Victor, go write a line for the reply to this letter."

Victor hurriedly pulled out a pen.

"What should I write? Boss."

Chen Yuan turned his head.

"Just say..."

"I will arrive on time to attend my own 'funeral'."