147: Chapter 147 The Australians' Counterattack

Shanghai, Jinjiang Hotel.

In the meeting room of the China Iron and Steel Association (CISA) special meeting, the long table was filled with people on both sides.

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Baowu, HBIS, Shagang, Ansteel—the top domestic steel mills that mattered, all their procurement heads had arrived.

Cheng Beixiao sat at one side of the long table, with a thick stack of documents in front of him.

Director Li presided over the meeting, with Zhang Xiangyang sitting next to him, his palms drenched in sweat.

He was nervous for this young man.

Sitting opposite were all industry giants; pick any one of them, and their experience would outweigh Cheng Beixiao's age.

"Director Cheng." Baowu's procurement director, Cha Guoliang, put down the documents in his hand and adjusted his glasses, his tone indifferent. "You mentioned 65% high-grade ore with an annual capacity of 20 million tons... starting from that, why should we believe you can provide a stable supply?"

"If you cut off the supply and our blast furnaces stop, can your DYB afford that loss?"

All eyes in the room focused on Cheng Beixiao.

It wasn't that they were being unreasonable; it was because the other party had initially claimed they had "as much as you want." With a "test the waters" mentality, they had decided to start with a "minimum" standard of 20 million tons for the cooperation.

Cheng Beixiao did not panic.

He didn't look down at his phone or wait for Fu Haoran's instructions.

He stood up, opened his folder, and placed the documents on the table one by one.

Mining rights documents from the Colombian government.

Port berth agreements.

The bill of lading for the first batch of 50,000 tons of ore.

Inspection reports from a third-party international testing agency.

"Director Cha, the first batch of 50,000 tons of ore will arrive at Caofeidian Port in 15 days; you can inspect the goods on-site. If the grade or impurities don't meet the standards, I'll give this batch for free."

He flipped to the key page of the mining rights document and tapped the numbers with his finger.

"The mine has proven high-grade iron ore reserves of 1.2 billion tons, which can be stably mined for fifty years. In the future, production can be expanded to an annual supply of 40 million tons."

Then he flipped to the last page of the draft contract.

"An annual supply of 20 million tons, with a price lock for ten years, 30% lower than the Australian long-term agreement price. Additionally, we have included ironclad compensation clauses for supply disruption in the contract, enough to cover your costs until your blast furnaces restart."

The meeting room fell silent for a few seconds.

Director Li picked up the bill of lading, examined it carefully, and then leafed through the inspection report.

Having done iron ore negotiations for twenty years, he had never felt this confident and emboldened.

Finally, they no longer had to endure the whims of the Australians.

He nodded slowly and looked at Zhang Xiangyang.

Zhang Xiangyang took a deep breath, slapped the pen in his hand onto the table, and was the first to state his position.

"Tangshan Iron and Steel will sign! I've had enough of the Australians' attitude. We're signing this contract!"

The other steel mill representatives looked at each other and then nodded one after another.

Before the signing ceremony, Cheng Beixiao glanced down at his phone.

Fu Haoran had sent a message: "Add a clause to the contract to prioritize supply for Hebei Steel and Tangshan Iron and Steel."

Cheng Beixiao calmly added a line to the supplementary terms of the draft contract before completing the signing with the steel mill representatives.

Although there were no reporters or photographers present due to confidentiality, Cheng Beixiao still couldn't hide his excitement.

After the signing ceremony, the person in charge of Ansteel pulled Cheng Beixiao aside and handed him a business card.

"Director Cheng, our Ansteel Group includes the Shenyang Heavy Machine Tool Factory. If your mine needs mining equipment or precision machine tools later, we can provide a complete set. We can coordinate on this later."

Cheng Beixiao took the card, tucked it away, and immediately took a photo to send to headquarters.

On the other side of the ocean, Fu Haoran quickly received the message.

For matters like this, Fu Haoran always handed them over to Tech-Priest Kallen to handle.

Kallen was still frantically complaining about the parameter sheets, the red light of his mechanical eye flashing incessantly: "My Lord, even as educational aids, machine tools of this precision are only fit for apprentices in the Underhive to practice on!"

Fu Haoran smiled and didn't respond.

He knew in his heart that the Adeptus Mechanicus's thousands of years of technological accumulation was indeed not something domestic machine tool factories could catch up with overnight.

But he knew better than anyone how terrifying the Chinese people's learning ability and iteration speed were. As long as they were given a benchmark sample, it wouldn't be long before they could produce products that would make Kallen's jaw drop.

...

Imperial Capital, National Security Bureau confidential meeting room.

Old Zhou slapped DYB's signing documents onto the table, his brow furrowed deeply.

"Old Qin, look closely. 20 million tons of iron ore from South America, a ten-year price lock, 30% lower than the Australian long-term agreement. This is simply not something a new energy vehicle company could pull off."

Qin Zhengfeng adjusted his glasses, leafed through the mine's inspection report, and stared at the "65% grade" figure, remaining silent for a long time.

"The waters behind this kid are much deeper than we thought." He paused. "But one thing is certain: what he's doing is helping the country break the Australian monopoly. It's not a bad thing."

Less than two hours after the news of the signing broke, Harris appeared at the meeting room door again with the Australian delegation.

Director Li frowned. "Mr. Harris, our contract has already been signed."

Harris waved his hand, his tone surprisingly amiable.

But there wasn't a hint of a smile in his eyes.

"Director Li, I'm here to discuss cooperation. Our new quote is 130 USD per ton, which is 15 USD lower than before. And we can sign a three-year price lock agreement."

He knew very well that this price could not possibly sway the Chinese side, who had already signed a contract.

All he wanted was to stall for time. Headquarters' three-pronged counterattack had already been deployed in advance, just waiting for the confirmation of the signing to press the start button.

Zhang Xiangyang almost laughed out of anger.

Where were you earlier?

Director Li pushed a copy of the DYB contract in front of Harris and said indifferently, "Mr. Harris, we have a more suitable supplier now. We won't be accepting your quote."

The smile on Harris's face stiffened for a moment but quickly recovered.

"Director Li, that's not how business is done. Long-term cooperation is about stability. Are you sure you want to trust a South American mine that just popped up?"

Director Li didn't say a word; he just pushed the copy of the contract another inch forward.

Harris stood up and left with the delegation.

His leather shoes clicked loudly on the marble floor.

But as soon as he stepped out of the meeting room, his expression darkened instantly.

He didn't return to the hotel but dialed the Australian headquarters directly.

"Execute as planned. Three lines, activate simultaneously."

The Australians' counterattack was divided into three routes, advancing simultaneously.

The first line: Political pressure.

Lobbying the Australian government to file a lawsuit in the Colombian Supreme Court on the grounds of "suspected money laundering of illicit funds," requesting the freezing of all the mine's assets and the suspension of ore exports.

Meanwhile, they bribed the Vice Minister of the Colombian Ministry of Mines, preparing to revoke the mine's mining license by next week.

The second line: Financial shorting.

Collaborating with Wall Street capital, they dumped 1.5 billion USD to short iron ore on the platts index.

As the news spread, the platts index plummeted by 12% within an hour.

Market panic was spreading.

The third line: Public opinion rumors.

Bribing domestic financial media and self-media to spread rumors that "the DYB South American mine is suspected of illegally encroaching on indigenous land and having financial ties with illegal groups; the Colombian government is about to revoke the mining rights, and subsequent supply cannot be guaranteed at all."

All three lines were launched simultaneously.

On the surface, they were showing goodwill with price cuts, but secretly, they were pulling the rug out from under them.

These were the tactics of old-money monopoly capital: not fighting a head-on price war, but attacking from three sides—political, financial, and public opinion.

That night, overwhelming negative news appeared on social media platforms at home and abroad, with titles more shocking than the last:

“Exclusive Investigation: The Drug Lord's Blood Debt Behind DYB's South American Mine”

“Colombian Government to Revoke Mining Rights; 20 Million Tons of Iron Ore Turn to Dust”

Internet water armies flooded the comment sections, driving the narrative wildly.

Cheng Beixiao scrolled through his phone, his face grim, but he didn't panic. Headquarters had already predicted that touching the Australians' cake would lead to a wave of backlash.

...

A private port by the Caribbean Sea.

Manuel stood on the pier, supervising the loading of the second batch of ore.

The conveyor belts roared as iron ore poured into the ship's hold, kicking up a cloud of dark red mist over the sea.

His deputy, González, ran over quickly, his face pale.

"Boss, people from the Ministry of Mines have suddenly arrived. They say they need to re-examine our mining rights qualifications, and the ship cannot leave port for now."

Manuel frowned. "What's the reason?"

"They said..." González swallowed hard. "They said our mining rights are suspected of illegal asset liquidation and need to be re-examined."

Manuel didn't panic.

He scanned the layout of the pier and tilted his chin up.

"Go, invite the people from the Ministry of Mines to the office and treat them well. Don't let them touch any documents."

González nodded and led his men away.

Just as Manuel was about to turn around, he caught a flash of reflection from the roof of the building across the pier.

"Get down!"

He grabbed the guard next to him, and both dove to the ground.

A bullet whizzed past his scalp and struck a container behind him, sending a shower of sparks flying.

The pier instantly fell into chaos. Workers scattered in all directions, loaders dropped their tools, and port managers ducked into the control room.

"Sniper, on the roof of that building across the pier." Manuel pulled out his sidearm and ordered into his headset, "Team One, clear the area. Team Two, block the roads. Don't let them escape."

González led a few veterans and crept around from the flank. Manuel crouched behind a container, pulled out an encrypted phone, and dialed Fu Haoran.

"Boss, there's a situation at the port. The Ministry of Mines is here to shut us down, and there's a sniper."

His voice was level, without a trace of panic.

"I've already sent people to clear out the sniper, and I've detained the people from the Ministry of Mines while waiting for you to coordinate at the government level. The ship can't leave for now, but the mine is fine."

On the other end of the line, Fu Haoran was silent for two seconds.

"Got it. Secure the port, don't let anyone escape. I'll handle the government side."

Manuel hung up, stood up, and spoke into his headset: "Team Two, what's the status?"

"Boss, we caught one alive. The other two got away."

"Interrogate him. Find out who sent them."

Ten minutes later, González's voice came through the headset: "Boss, he talked. It was a sniper hired by the Australians through the Colombian opposition. The target was you."

Manuel gave a cold laugh, said nothing, and turned to look toward the port.

Back when he was fighting as a guerrilla in the Black Panther Brigade over a decade ago, what he feared least was this kind of back-alley assassination.

If the Australians wanted to play dirty, he would play along to the end.

...

In the headquarters meeting room in Perth, Australia, Harris watched the news from Colombia, a sinister smile curling on his lips.

"Want to steal our business? First, let's see if you're alive to take it."

In Fu Haoran's hotel room, he had just finished a call with Director Li.

Two messages arrived on his phone at the same time.

The first was that the first batch of advance payments from domestic steel mills had arrived—30 million USD.

The second was a phone report from Jimmy: "President Fu, Wall Street has teamed up with Australian capital to short the platts index, dumping 1.5 billion USD already."

"Two small and medium-sized steel mills called wanting to break their contracts. I've already sent them the price-lock compensation clauses according to your previous plan, and they don't dare move for now."

"As far as I know, many traders are stuck with spot goods; prices dropped by 80 USD per ton in a single day, and all previously negotiated orders have fallen through. In the futures market, long positions are being liquidated constantly, retail investors are panic selling, and the entire ferrous metal industry chain is in a complete mess."

Fu Haoran didn't panic.

He set the news aside for a moment, picked up his encrypted phone, and dialed his old CIA acquaintance, Miller.

"Miller, I need a favor. People from the Colombian Ministry of Mines are moving against my mine. You have people there; help me coordinate."

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds before Miller's voice came through, sounding a bit dry: "Mr. Fu, this isn't going to be easy..."

"Haven't you had enough of the political credit from the last anti-drug operation?" Fu Haoran's tone was very calm. "Help me settle the people from the Ministry of Mines, and you'll take the top credit for the next operation in South America."

Miller gritted his teeth. "...Fine, I'll try. But Boss Fu, I can only help you coordinate with the Ministry of Mines. You'll have to handle the Australian government's lawsuit yourself."

"That's enough."

Fu Haoran put down his phone and dialed Jimmy again.

"Regarding the public opinion, have the PR department issue a statement. Make all the mining rights documents, government approvals, and third-party inspection reports public."

"Boss, do we need to arrange an exclusive interview?" Jimmy asked.

Fu Haoran thought for a moment and said, "No need. Our buyers are all in East Asia; as long as they believe us, that's enough. Let the overseas media say whatever they want; they're not the ones paying."

"What about the financial shorting?" Jimmy asked.

"Don't worry about it. Let the short sellers dump; we'll enter the market once they've run out of steam."

Jimmy acknowledged and hung up.

Fu Haoran put down his phone, not showing the slightest bit of confusion.

He had already anticipated these three lines of counterattack from the Australians long before the signing.

The Australian giants, who had monopolized the iron ore market for over a decade, would never stand by and watch their cake be taken away. Dirty tricks and underhanded schemes would only continue to emerge.

Thus, Fu Haoran had prepared a full set of contingency plans for Jimmy, left the CIA as an escape route for Manuel, and even had the PR department write the responses to the rumors in advance.

A three-pronged attack?

A joke.

The corners of Fu Haoran's mouth curled up slightly.

"The descendants of convicts just can't change their old habits."

"Since they want to play, let's show them who the real hunter is."

"A mere 'Straya, does it really think it's a superpower?"

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