After the Divorce, I Could Hear the Voice of the Future

"Tell me your plan."

"Play it by ear."

"Play it by ear?"

"Exactly, play it by ear."

Lu Liang's smile remained unchanged. With a casual greeting, that was enough. Mr. Su Shimin and the others would know to play it by ear.

He still had two trump cards up his sleeve. If he exposed them, even he might get bundled up, just like Nai Zi, always making room for more.

"Working with you, Mr. Lu, hasn't been particularly pleasant." Mr. Su Shimin sighed, expressing his disappointment in Lu Liang.

"This is our first collaboration. I also hope it will be the last."

Lu Liang looked displeased, wondering where Mr. Su Shimin got the nerve to say that.

As long as the plan went smoothly, the Blackstone Group basically reaped the rewards without effort.

In contrast, they were taking on the greatest risk, yet their profits were only monetary.

Making money right now was already trivial to Lu Liang. The reason he worked so diligently every day was because he had an ambition yet to be realized.

Is Wall Street really that important?

Is it true that an outsider can't conquer it?

Life is fleeting, and if one becomes just a tool for making money, it would be very sad.

Can't let it be that by the time of death, all that's left is a bank account number that's even longer than an ID number?

Lu Liang found this unacceptable!

Old Ma's disinterest in money seemed genuine, but only if you added the adjective 'now' before it.

"The Bund Financial Summit..."

Lu Liang suddenly recalled the invitation on his desk. Just as anticipated, Modu's Bund Financial Summit organizers had extended an invitation to him.

"What?" Mr. Su Shimin was slightly dazed, at one point suspecting he had misheard.

They were having a good chat, and suddenly, the topic shifted to some summit—such clumsy tactics.

"Nothing, I'm hanging up. Play it by ear."

With that, Lu Liang directly hung up on Mr. Su Shimin's call, showing no regard for his feelings.

They had come together purely for interests. If there was a chance to backstab Lu Liang, Mr. Su Shimin would not hesitate.

And Lu Liang was the same.

Meanwhile, at JPMorgan Chase's investment department.

"BlackRock, Vanguard, Blackstone, Goldman Sachs, Citibank... what about their funds?"

JPMorgan had been steadfast on the front lines of shorting gold, but their funds weren't infinite.

In just one hour, before dawn, Tianxing had deployed at least $18 billion. As the counterparty shorting, they had used more than twice that amount.

With $37.4 billion already in play, they'd surpassed 70% of JPMorgan's cash flow red line, nearing the limit of their authorization.

Yet the reinforcements Wilson had hoped for were yet to enter the arena, giving him a sudden sense of foreboding.

He felt like a lost dog, shaking his head, trying to shrug off all the bad thoughts from his mind.

"The $1,700 level remains unbreakable."

Someone shouted, panic evident on his face because he knew the implications of prolonged unsuccessful attacks.

But how did things come to this? Tianxing wasn't the one trapped; it was they who were deeply mired in.

Just 12 hours ago, they were brimming with confidence, with some even planning how to use the project bonuses.

Nine of Wall Street's most powerful conglomerates had come out in full force, led by an unprecedentedly strong group at their historical peak.

How in just one night—more accurately, in just one hour—since the Yuan breached 6.9, had the entire situation transformed?

He dared not imagine the consequences of a loss.

Perhaps it would be like standing stark naked, unarmed, abandoned on the African savanna at the end of the dry season.

Facing alone the famished hyenas, wild dogs, leopards, lion prides, and even wild boars.

When one whale falls, all things will thrive.

Ten years ago, it was Lehman Brothers, twenty years ago, the East Asian countries. Was it now their turn?

He instinctively looked at Wilson with a look of pity. If they lost this time, the worst-case scenario would be the entire department being laid off, and he'd just have to find a new job, maybe struggling for a year or so.

But Cameron Wilson, the planner of this event, was the one with the greatest responsibility, bar none.

It wasn't caused by a sudden black swan event, but purely human influences leading to massive company losses.

He needed to provide an explanation to the upper management of the group and those Squid Clan conglomerates supporting him.

Suddenly, in the next second, Wilson erupted like a mad beast, eyes emitting a bloodthirsty gleam.

He suddenly lunged, pinned his assistant to the desk, pressing a pen against his eye, and shouted fiercely, "Open your eyes, look at me directly."

The sudden crisis instinctively made him close his eyes, but hearing Wilson's words, he dared not open them.

Feeling the stabbing pain in his eyelid, and as this pain intensified, tears streamed from his other eye.

"Kamon, what are you trying to do?"

Terror was written all over his face. Though tears blurred his vision, he could still see the ferocity in Wilson's eyes.

Adrenaline spiked his cerebral cortex, reminding him of an anecdote from many years ago, involving his predecessor, also Wilson's assistant.

One day, they were found dead at home under mysterious circumstances. The police's conclusion was death by overdose, leading to asphyxiation.

But by chance, he saw a detailed case report on Wilson's desk, complete with scene photos.

The predecessor's neck bore visible ligature marks, and the right eyelid had several cuts likely inflicted by a sharp object.

He was familiar with the ligature mark, knowing it was caused by someone tightly pulling a tie from behind.

It was just that he didn't want to recall those dark memories, which was why they had been intentionally forgotten until now.

Perhaps the predecessor's death had hidden truths.

Wilson was meticulous, like a master wood sculptor, carving lines with the pen across the eyelid.

As he engraved the cross, he whispered, "Dear, don't look at me with such eyes next time, okay?"

Seeing him nod, Wilson smiled slightly, picked up a tissue to wipe the wound, gently caressing this handsome face.

The commotion there attracted the attention of the traders. Suddenly, Wilson changed his expression, smiling as if victory was assured.

He tossed away the bloodstained tissue, dashed onto the podium, transformed into an accordion master, exclaiming excitedly, "Get your spirits up, victory is beckoning us!"

"According to reliable information, Tianxing and their counterparty funds are already limited. Just hold on a little longer, and we can blow up their position."

"By then, luxury cars, beautiful women, flowers, they'll all belong to us."

"To hell with mortgage and car loans, and nagging spouses."

Wilson knew his emotions were a bit off, but he hadn't yet completely lost his sanity.

The outcome was not yet determined. Anything was possible, provided they didn't show the signs of a defeated army.

As long as they believed in the light, miracles would happen.

"F*ck~"

He was skilled at stirring emotions. With a few words, he roused the crowd's spirits, sweeping away the heavy atmosphere.

Wilson stepped down from the podium. The assistant, his eyelid hastily taped with a band-aid, stuttered, "Kakameng, we've already used 70% of the group's cash flow. To continue matching their position, we may need your authorization."

Wilson nodded, took out the USB key to input the password and verify his iris, softly saying, "Lar, you know I come from the slums. Sometimes I care too much about people's gaze. I'm sorry, I apologize for what just happened."

He behaved like an abuser—a demon before, a saint after—expressing guilt with sincerity and promising never to do it again. T#h$is c.h-a&p^t#e#r* f$ir!s&t a-pp!e&are-d# on M&|V-|L.^EMPYR.

Doug had already left him. If Carl also grew discontent, he would simultaneously lose both his right-hand men, making the ensuing work very difficult.

Carl heard this, remained silent.

The fear in his eyes slightly dissipated, but when reporting work matters, he dared not look Wilson in the eye again.

He cautiously said, "Mr. BlackRock Walton, Mr. Vanguard Binger, and Mr. Blackstone Su Shimin—all of them haven't connected with us..."

The so-called Sky Alliance was as fragile as paper in the face of interests. Unsurprisingly, they had either been abandoned or had become targets for others to besiege and hunt.

Wilson maintained a calm expression, pondered briefly, and dialed the phone numbers for the responsible persons at State Street and HSBC: "I need you to take action."

He had no way back after pouring in over $30 billion unless Lu Liang was blown up, forcing him to trigger the forced liquidation line.

Then a massive number of long positions would be released, enabling their escape. There were no other options.

This was truly an all-or-nothing bet; he would wager everything for the final battle. It was either Lu Liang's fall or his own demise.

"What about Mr. Su Shimin?"

The assistant couldn't help but worry, fearing Wilson's defeat because he had witnessed his ruthlessness.

If he truly ended up in complete ruin,

with his temperament, he would undoubtedly bring a few down with him.

Wilson contemplated, deciding to take a gamble, "Don't worry about them; they're still foolish enough to jump in early."

"They'll only help the winner."