After the Divorce, I Could Hear the Voice of the Future-Chapter 220 - 219: Shooting Oneself in the Foot

"Liang, I love you (๑′ᴗ‵๑)"

Little Wang received the message, brimming with enthusiasm, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. It was finally time for him to show off again.

These past few days, he constantly sneered at the adulterous duo Ma Song, yet he felt something was lacking.

It wasn't until he received a message from Lu Liang that Wang Xiaocong had his epiphany, realizing what that missing element was.

He fondly remembered how over a month ago, he spread his banners by the tens of thousands, planting the Red Flag across all major forums and accounts of celebrities and politicians in the United States.

To hell with them if they said it, he really did it, with such high spirits back then. After being accustomed to dining on an international banquet, he couldn't stomach the scraps of Domestic Entertainment.

With decisive action, Little Wang kicked aside the new girlfriend he had just met, hastily threw on some boxer shorts, and hurried to his study.

He fired up his computer, worth a million dollars and acclaimed as the fourth in the world and the first in Asia, and began streaming on Panda.

Lu Liang hadn't restricted him, only allowing him to send out tweets; with such a golden opportunity, he definitely had to help Panda boost its KPI.

Although live stock trading is not allowed by law, he wasn't actually trading stocks; he just wanted his brothers in the live stream to see how he showed off.

As the ancients said, one could skip meals or date fewer girls, but one must never stop showing off.

At half-past two in the morning, there was no shortage of night owls.

Once Little Wang's live stream started, tens of thousands of real viewers flooded in instantaneously.

After all, he was the second-biggest internet celebrity on the entire network, the son of First Rich, owner of the #10000 live room, with a room named "Tonight, We're Not Sleeping, Sniping the Dow".

The earlier gimmicks were all fake, the real reason that attracted viewers to stop by was the name of the live room.

Little Wang didn't have the ability, and those who did, both domestically and abroad, could be counted on one hand. Coincidentally, one of them happened to be an acquaintance of Little Wang, rumored to be partners in crime.

"Cong, is Lu God making a move tonight?"

"Holy shit, the Dow has been dropping since last night. Could it be the work of my bro, Liang?"

"That's enough, don't be so brainless. One Dow is worth at least ten Big A."

"Cong, will you say something?"

The moment Little Wang started broadcasting, he fell silent, opened the three sections of US stocks, and pretended to peruse them over and over again.

He learned that tonight's Dow Jones Index suspected of failing to breach twenty thousand points, currently at 19,120 points, had fallen by 4.32%.

He began to wonder – considering he had witnessed two circuit breakers in just four days at the beginning of the year – was this drop really significant enough to be called a crash? It wasn't even as much as a single dip in Big A.

Gradually, he also realized that the current drop of over 1060 points was the highest single-day drop since 2008.

Calling it a big drop wasn't an exaggeration.

The tens of thousands of viewers in his live stream surged to over a hundred thousand, all of them impatient and eagerly awaiting the close of the market in a little over an hour.

They were extremely eager to hear about Lu Liang's actions from Little Wang so they could get a piece of the action.

Leisurely, Little Wang used his phone to log into Twitter. Although he was banned for a week last time, his number of followers had soared as a result.

After a moment of hesitation, he followed Lu Liang's instructions and posted a photo of a short position index, not a large amount, just 50 million US Dollars, with a profit of 4.81 million.

After finishing everything, he turned his attention back to the live stream, continuing to feign sophistication while browsing international financial news.

He knew the difference between a one-time feast and a regular one. If his account got banned again, he wouldn't have such opportunities in the future.

Moreover, this trick – to speak half-truths and leave others hopping mad – was also something Little Wang learned from Lu Liang. The feeling was undeniably good.

However, he wasn't Lu Liang; at best, he was just a mouthpiece and predictably the viewers mocked him relentlessly.

"Piece of shit, pretending to act knowledgeable."

"Everyone, just disperse, Lu Liang is definitely short-selling the Dow."

"Tsk tsk, Little Wang is such a coward, streaming while quietly tweeting, and doesn't even talk, pretending to be a pro."

"I'm embarrassed to follow such a streamer."

"Come on, let's all unfollow and leave."

A screen full of mockery, what did it matter if he was the son of First Rich or the master of Panda? How about coming through the internet to punch them?

A little respect referred to him as Cong; devoid of respect, they called him a 'piece of shit,' and even that was holding back.

"For the love of god."

With a darkened face, Little Wang was so angry he could hardly find the strength to curse, as a surge of bile stuck in his throat.

At the same time, the picture of short-selling the index appeared on the desks of major institutions on Wall Street.

Liang was their major thorn in the side, and Little Wang was also included on their priority list.

"He, guessed right again?"

This sentence, emerging in the trading room, hung over everyone's heads like a dark cloud.

Old England's Brexit, an extremely rare political black swan event, he had predicted correctly; the issues down south, a significant international military event, the Li Gen approaching their doorstep, the brink of war, he had called that too.

Now he had shorted the Dow, and judging by the ratio of investment to profit, it was highly likely that he had preemptively entered the market and had already filled his position at an earlier stage of the movement.

A sense of helplessness flooded over everyone.

"Keep calm; don't listen to what he says; watch what he's doing," Wilson pondered deeply.

Over the past year, he had clashed with Lu Liang four times, from his perspective, two wins and two losses.

The two wins came from shorting the yen and going long on Tesla, the losses from going long on British Pounds and the yen.

Read lat𝙚st chapters at fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓ Only.

However, those two wins were when their goals aligned.

It was like a man boasting that at home his word was law when in fact they were of the same mind if the man spoke, it was decided; if opinions differed, what the woman said went.

If you looked at it from Lu Liang's perspective, he had been victorious in all four battles and had yet to taste defeat, an unbeatable opponent.

But they didn't necessarily have to oppose each other.

Wilson was a professional fund manager; he didn't need opponents or allies, only profits.

The losses in the two encounters had caused the fund he managed to see negative growth, and he was facing an annual settlement in three months.

He had to turn losses into profits within the next three months, delivering a satisfying report to investors to retain his clientele.

Following the principle "if you can't beat them, join them", this time he decisively chose not to oppose Lu Liang, becoming part of the group that shorted the Dow and went long on London Gold.

Meanwhile,

There were many others who shared the same thought.

"Others sleeping beside the couch cannot be tolerated,"

Though angry, they had not lost their reason.

The finance world was vast; as long as Lu Liang remained active on the international finance stage, they would inevitably cross paths again.

Should the timing and location be just right, they could pull the internet plug, lock up funds, and make Lu Liang cough up principal and profits.

In an instant, a massive number of institutions and retail investors poured into the Dow, shorting the index, causing the stock index to fall even further.

Lu Liang was confused and abruptly halted his accumulation of stocks.

With the Dow about to fall below 18,500 points, currently down 1,300 points, it seemed almost headed for a circuit breaker.

He couldn't understand why no one was on the other side, not pushing up stock prices; what then was the point of accumulating stocks?

Lu Liang stopped all buying and selling activities and took out his phone, planning to check the foreign websites to see what was really going on.

First, he saw a tweet from a businessman: "If the Dow falls more than 1,000 points in a single day, then the current officeholder should be stuffed into a cannon and shot toward the sun at an astonishing speed! No excuses!"

Next, Lu Liang saw Little Wang's tweet, no tricks, just a simple, unadorned picture.

After a quick round on the outside, Lu Liang returned to his Twitter and finally understood where the problem lay.

In the comments section, one after another expressed their gratitude, hands pressed together thanking Lu Liang for leading them to riches.

They shared their profits from shorting the Dow, varying from tens of thousands to millions of US dollars.

Though the amounts were small, the numbers were vast.

A few thousand people had already become a force that could not be ignored in the financial market.

Lu Liang pulled up the recent transaction details of the Dow, only to find the net inflow of market funds to be pitifully small.

A sea of short-sell orders flooded the market, and it seemed no one was interesting in salvaging the market; everyone was short selling.

Lu Liang's face darkened as he realized the reason.

Following the principle "if you can't beat them, join them", Wall Street institutions were all shorting the Dow alongside him.

No one was opposing him, which meant stock prices weren't being driven up; instead, he and the market were on opposing sides.

Lu Liang accessed his back-end account, excluding the $618.2 million profit from previously shorting the Dow.

Subsequent bottom-fishing behavior in blue-chip stocks had resulted in a loss of $115 million.

The only consolation was that the blue chips were relatively resilient, and the harvest from London Gold was not insignificant.