35: The view from the rooftop

North America.

The press conference hall at Verlander Biotechnology Headquarters.

The venue was brightly lit and packed with people, with the cameras and microphones of major global media outlets aimed at the main stage.

Anderson, the newly appointed Vice President of Verlander, stood behind the podium, his face radiating a confident smile, clearly high-spirited and immensely successful.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

"Thank you all for attending Verlander's press conference on this important day."

"The purpose of this conference is very clear: to explicitly respond to the baseless malicious rumors circulating on the internet recently."

A meticulously prepared PPT was displayed on the massive screen behind Anderson.

"Today, we will release more core data from the Phase II clinical trials of the [Dawn] project, including a more detailed scale analysis of cognitive function improvement."

"This data has been verified by multiple independent third-party institutions and is absolutely authentic."

Every word he spoke drew bursts of applause and a frenzy of camera flashes from the audience.

This press conference was intended to send the market the strongest possible signal.

Verlander is unbreakable, and all speculators will be ruthlessly squeezed out of their short positions.

The hundreds of billions of dollars staked on short positions in the market will become a feast for Verlander and its long-term investors.

"Please look at the big screen."

Anderson turned sideways, preparing to display the first set of crucial data.

"This data set clearly shows..."

However, just then.

An unusual commotion arose from the media seats below the stage.

Initially, it was just scattered whispering, but it quickly escalated into widespread discussion.

Many reporters looked down at their phones, their faces showing extreme shock and disbelief, and some even gasped aloud.

"Oh my god!"

"What?"

Anderson’s speech was interrupted, and a flicker of displeasure crossed his face.

This was completely different from the scene he had envisioned, one of total focus and widespread attention.

What was wrong with these reporters?

What could possibly be more important than the Dawn data released by Verlander?

Just as he tried to regain control of the room with a louder voice, an assistant, pale-faced, scurried onto the stage and urgently whispered a few words into Anderson's ear.

The confident smile on Anderson's face instantly froze.

A trace of confusion and deep anger appeared on his face.

In his view, Xinghai was merely a fledgling startup, no different from an ant compared to Verlander.

Yet, Xinghai had actually chosen to hold a press conference simultaneously with Verlander.

Moreover, the content of their conference was utter nonsense—claiming to completely cure alzheimers disease was simply ridiculous.

But he had no choice but to take Xinghai's conference seriously, because Xinghai had invited Chen Guoyuan himself to preside over the event and provide endorsement.

Anderson could no longer care about the press conference or the short squeeze plan.

He rudely shoved the assistant aside, and without even pausing to apologize to the audience, he stumbled away, vanishing into the backstage corridor as if fleeing a plague.

Magic City.

The top-floor observation deck of Star Tower.

This area had been temporarily converted into a press conference venue.

On the main stage, Chen Guoyuan personally sat in the center, flanked by several top scientists renowned in the field of neurology.

Their presence alone served as the most substantial endorsement for the conference.

The conference was hosted by Chen Wanwan.

She was dressed in a sharp business suit, her demeanor elegant and composed.

She possessed both the family's academic heritage and the sharp ambition of a young executive.

On the large screen behind Chen Wanwan, the high-tech product name [Memory Tracing Clear] appeared.

The meaning was: tracing clear memories and clearing the fog of cognition.

Chen Wanwan had chosen the name because time was too pressing.

Halfway through the conference, led by Chen Guoyuan, team members took the stage one by one.

Several prominent scientists used extremely rigorous academic language to detail the core mechanism of action of [Memory Tracing Clear], the astonishing data from preclinical studies...

Below the stage, the expressions of the media reporters, who had initially harbored some skepticism, had long since changed from scrutiny to shock.

The camera flashes went from sporadic bursts to nearly a continuous sheet of white light, frantically capturing the moment each scientist spoke, recording an instant significant enough to be written into the annals of medical history.

As the conference drew to a close, Chen Wanwan returned to the front of the stage with a relieved smile.

"Based on our fully mature synthesis process, [Memory Tracing Clear] will achieve mass production within three months, and the first batch of medicine will be prioritized for domestic clinical needs..."

Before she could finish, the audience erupted!

Mass production in three months!

This meant that this was not just a theoretical PPT presentation, but an accessible reality.

"Thank you all for coming; the press conference is now concluded." Chen Wanwan smiled, bowed, and then elegantly left the stage.

However, the crowd below the stage did not disperse.

Reporters surged toward the main stage like a tide, hoping to obtain more details.

The moment the press conference ended.

On Verlander's stock chart, a silent massacre had already begun.

Those who always sense the earthquake first are the deep-sea leviathans with the sharpest senses.

Half an hour before the Xinghai press conference even began, some top family offices had already learned the significance of the data being released by Chen Guoyuan's team through confidential channels.

Thus, before the Xinghai conference... an astonishingly large-scale triumphant escape officially commenced.

Massive sell orders began to hammer Verlander’s bid like hailstones.

Next came the hedge funds and quantitative institutions that had been closely monitoring the live streams of both press conferences.

When Chen Wanwan uttered the name [Memory Tracing Clear], and when Academician Chen Guoyuan displayed the core data that could not be faked, their risk control systems instantly sounded the highest level of alert.

Traders didn't even need to wait for orders from their bosses; their fingers were already flying across the keyboards, executing preset stop-losses... and even initiating large-scale shorting programs.

As more sell orders joined the battle, Verlander's stock price plummeted from a slow decline into a precipitous drop.

The chart displayed terrifying bearish candlesticks.

However, the tragedy and absurdity of the market lay in the information gap that constructed an invisible chasm.

Just as top-tier capital was frantically fleeing and professional institutions were decisively cutting their positions... a completely different, fervent scene was unfolding on retail trading platforms.

"This crash is the perfect opportunity to buy the dip, brothers!"

"Trust in Dawn, financial freedom is right around the corner..."

... Caught in the immense rift between calm retreat on one side and frenzied buying on the other, Verlander's stock price accelerated its descent into the abyss.

Wall Street District.

Inside a luxurious office.

Shen Lin froze in his leather chair, like a statue from which the soul had been extracted.

His pupils were unfocused, reflecting the precipitous drop of Verlander Biotechnology's candlestick chart.

His finger hovered unconsciously above the sell button, but he couldn't bring himself to press it.

"It's useless. What difference does selling make now..."

Shen Lin had used five times leverage, staking his entire fortune, along with massive mortgage loans, on Verlander's Dawn project.

At this moment, the stock drop had long since breached his liquidation line.

This meant that the massive margin deposit Shen Lin had invested had already vanished.

Even more terrifying, due to the leverage, he likely now owed the broker huge debts that he could never repay in his lifetime.

Nearby, Zhou Xuan’s face was equally devoid of color, but he gritted his teeth and rapidly worked the keyboard, frantically selling the remaining Verlander stock in his account at any possible price.

Every transaction meant a painful loss, but at least he could salvage a tiny, insignificant remnant.

"Lin Ge, don't just stare! Save whatever you can!"

Shen Lin paid no attention to Zhou Xuan’s shouts.

He slowly stood up, his movements as stiff as a puppet on strings.

He even had the presence of mind to walk over to the coffee machine and pour himself a scorching hot black coffee.

Holding the cup of coffee, he silently walked out of the office like a zombie.

He entered the elevator and pressed the button for the highest floor.

The wind on the rooftop was fierce, messing up Shen Lin’s carefully groomed slicked-back hair.

He walked step by step toward the edge of the rooftop, below him the dizzying, prosperous panorama of the Wall Street District.

Skyscrapers stood tall, and traffic flowed endlessly.

This was the kingdom he had once wanted to conquer.

Finally, Shen Lin gave a bitter laugh and took a sip of the coffee.

It was extremely bitter.