Chapter 1055: The Collapse and The Salon

Ultimately, Ross's "courage" failed to overcome his "cowardice." He was not as formidable as he imagined himself to be.

"General Ross" was destined to become a hilarious joke!

...

At this moment, the eyes of the world were drawn to the political upheaval in Dantra, but one group of people had their eyes firmly fixed on Rapa: for instance, Cooper.

"Hsss..." Cooper inhaled a lungful of Devil Smoke, leaning back on the sofa, his lower body unclothed while two beautiful young women were tending to him.

Devil Smoke was a highly popular cigarette in Deterland. It was based on ordinary cigarettes but contained special ingredients that, upon entering the body, produced intense pleasure and even hallucinations.

Many people knew what it contained: the spores of Ghost Face Mushrooms. This fungus was mildly poisonous, but as long as one didn't consume too much at once, there wouldn't be serious problems.

As the indigenous people's "sacred medicine," the indigenous people, through countless years of evolution, had also mastered a way to neutralize the toxins by chewing the roots of a certain plant and swallowing the juice.

Therefore, Devil Smoke and the "Finger of God" (the root) needed to be used together: while smoking the spore-laced cigarette, one vigorously chewed the small, white, tender root to achieve a stronger, more intense satisfaction.

Cooper was currently soaring through the air, his mind somewhat unclear. At this moment, even if God appeared before him, he would have to take a few punches before leaving.

He was that unreasonable, and his power felt unreasonably absolute.

He could fly through the heavens, traverse the cosmos, and with a mere wave of his hand, he could wipe out an entire nebula and the bizarre alien species on its planets.

In this moment, God had to step aside, for he was the one and only true deity!

Pleasure was his overriding feeling right now. Since the stock price began its relentless surge—Hope Mining had recently submitted an authorization document to shareholders and the three major exchanges regarding the management of all Rapan state-owned assets.

President Diego, the supreme ruler of Rapa, had authorized the transfer of nearly all state-owned assets to Hope Mining for operation. This was absolutely massive news!

The moment the news spread, Cooper, whose wealth had recently jumped from over 100,000 to over 200,000, saw his stock holdings surge again, close to 500,000!

This was the allure of the financial market. As long as one was bold enough, had good foresight, and wasn't too unlucky, doubling or multiplying one's wealth in a short time was as common as chatting with friends or colleagues after work.

Here, doubling was no miracle; multiplying ten or a hundred times—that was a miracle!

Cooper also heard a rumor: someone who used off-exchange margin financing saw their net worth multiply over ten times in an instant, nearly making them one of Deterland's nouveaux riches!

He yearned for that life. He continued to increase his investment in the stock because everyone believed it would continue its phenomenal rise.

As investors in the stock salons would explain, once Hope Mining completely took over Rapa's state-owned assets, it essentially monopolized an entire country's resources.

They gained pricing power in that country, outside of the contract price negotiated with the government. Simply put, they signed an agency contract with the government, stipulating that Hope Mining only needed to provide the resources listed in the inventory and quantity specified by the Rapa government each quarter.

The surplus could be sold on the market. After deducting management fees and Hope Mining's profit, only the remaining profit would go to the Rapa government.

Someone calculated the figures: out of $100 worth of ore, after removing other costs, about $70 remained. Out of that $70 , the Rapa government only received seventeen or eighteen dollar ; the rest was all income for Hope Mining!

This was an astonishing figure because Rapa's resources were incredibly abundant, and Hope Mining was monopolizing the resource supply within the Rapa region.

At the same time, they could sell these resources to Federal enterprises.

Coupled with favorable policies granted by the Federal government, such as subsidies and tax rebates for importing key materials and specialized goods, their profits were actually even higher.

Spurred by such immensely positive news, the stock might not just double again—it could conceivably multiply several times or even tenfold!

After all, it was the resources of an entire country!

Cooper finally experienced the joy of revenge and, led by his stockbroker, began attending several private parties, where he quickly became deeply entrenched.

Few normal people could resist the lure of such... debauchery. Beautiful female stars, or male celebrities—they never knew how to refuse in these moments.

Whatever you demanded of them, they complied, devoid of dignity or self-respect, solely driven by the rawest desires being unleashed!

The hazy Cooper suddenly felt a chilling sensation. He had been flying through the sky!

Suddenly, some mysterious force brutally dragged him back to the ground. He slammed into the earth, leaving a massive crater, like the one left by a meteor striking a planet.

At that moment, God suddenly ran up to him and unleashed a furious storm of punches on his face, "sobering" him up instantly.

He opened his blurry eyes and saw his stockbroker standing before him. After a brief moment of confusion, a smile appeared on his face. "Did you come to join the fun?"

The stockbroker's face was deathly pale. "Something's happened!"

Cooper was about to take another drag of the Devil Smoke, but before the mouthpiece touched his lips, the stockbroker slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor.

Watching the Devil Smoke fall and slowly extinguish, Cooper grew agitated. "F***, what are you doing?"

He stood up. The two girls, their eyes glazed over, continued their "services." Such a scene was minor to them.

As long as they provided satisfactory service, they could earn in a day what others earned in a month or even a year.

Earning enough money in their youngest, most vibrant, and most attractive years to enjoy life later—that was the ultimate goal of these new-generation youths.

The stockbroker slapped the newspaper hard against Cooper's chest. "Have you been immersed in this the whole time?"

"Look at the paper! Something's happened!"

Cooper rubbed his face. "You better not be lying to me. I scare myself when I get angry!"

He unfolded the newspaper and was immediately drawn to the front-page headline: 《The Century's Biggest Financial Disaster》

Below the headline was a large, colored photograph showing a group of desperate people dumping their stocks, while in the background, workers were removing Hope Mining's "top listing" from the display board.

Seeing this, Cooper suddenly snapped wide awake. He rubbed his eyes vigorously and slapped his cheeks, beginning to read the report seriously.

Because he was so high, he couldn't stand steadily; his body was swaying constantly, threatening to fall over at any moment.

The stockbroker gave the two girls some money, allowing them to end their work early, then pushed Cooper onto the sofa.

Cooper's attention was entirely focused on the newspaper; he didn't even realize he had fallen.

It was a silent few minutes, punctuated only by his increasingly heavy breathing.

A few minutes later, he fiercely looked up at the stockbroker. "So, how much money do I have left now?"

The stockbroker's expression was also terrible. "About... 170 to 180 thousand left."

170 to 180 thousand was still a significant sum. Even if the stock price was immediately halved, Cooper was still profitable, having made a substantial gain.

His total capital investment, including later additions, did not exceed 150,000.

A profit of 20,000 to 30,000 was still a decent amount.

If he had never possessed 500,000, he might have been satisfied now, but this amount no longer satisfied him.

He had spent a lot of money during this time. Deducting a bit here and a bit there, even if he sold all his stock now, he might end up with a slight loss.

Those who haven't experienced heaven don't realize how unbearable hell is.

He gasped, looking at the stockbroker. "What do we do now?"

The stockbroker looked at him. "We have two options."

"First, liquidate your position immediately, regardless of whether you've won or lost."

"Second, wait and watch."

He prepared to sit down, but seeing the stains on the sofa and Cooper's naked lower half, he covered his forehead and turned away. "Motherf****r, put your pants on, man!"

"This place is awful. We need to go somewhere else, let's go to the exchange!"

Although he had seen plenty of "bananas," seeing that while discussing serious business was still somewhat off-putting.

Cooper finally realized his state. He quickly found a pair of trousers and hastily put them on. He sighed, tidied himself up, and left with the stockbroker.

At the door, he presented his "Lucky Card" and signed the bill.

He didn't have much cash on hand, but he held high-value stocks in the market, so the bank was willing to offer him some convenience.

This applied to the bar, and some restaurants and malls.

These commercial establishments that had a relationship with his bank had signed a cooperation agreement: the bank would first pay the merchant for "Lucky Card" users.

Then, periodically, the bank would collect these debts from the users and charge a service fee.

The current service fee was fifteen percent—a not-insignificant percentage.

Although the "cut" was high, many people were still willing to use it because they had little cash available.

These clients were not poor people without money; for example, Cooper had $500,000 worth of stock. Possessing that much money certainly placed him in the top fifteen percent, if not higher.

But he had no cash, and he needed to consume. What to do?

The Lucky Card played a vital role.

He glanced at the bill. It read $1,170, with the change rounded off.

He signed his name without thinking, and the manager personally saw him out.

He got into the stockbroker's car. Both were silent on the way to Deterland, either lost in thought or trying to process the reality of the situation.

After intermittent congestion, they finally returned to Deterland. Just as they parked the car and prepared to enter the exchange, the stockbroker saw a familiar face heading toward a nearby office building.

The office buildings surrounding the exchange were the most expensive in Deterland and even the entire New Gold City. Whether buying or renting, the prices were ridiculously high—a true measure of prime real estate.

The reason for the ridiculously high property prices here was their proximity to the exchange.

Investors needed social venues outside the exchange, and investor clubs or stock salons were excellent choices.

Operating these venues didn't require high overhead but yielded immense profits.

Salons hosted by certain celebrities, for example, could cost several thousand yuan per session, and this business wasn't just occasional; it happened almost daily.

After the close of every trading day, investors, unable to resist, wanted to sit down and chat with others. What to do?

Previously, they might have gone to public venues like bars, ordered drinks, and chatted while drinking.

Now, most bars were closed, and considering their own security—getting caught drinking might mean missing a trading day—they needed more discreet locations. These closed salons were a perfect choice.

The stockbroker hurried after his acquaintance, waving. "Where are you going?"

The man turned his head. "There's a salon about Hope Mining going on inside. I heard there's insider information. I need to listen."

The stockbroker's eyes lit up. "Take me with you. We want to go too."

His friend glanced at Cooper, then back at the stockbroker, and didn't refuse.

The three entered the nearby office building, took the elevator up to a certain floor, and were guided by staff into the salon.

The room was already packed; there were no seats left.

Cooper had often attended such salons before, and usually, they were half-empty.

But today, there were too many people. He could barely squeeze in!

"...We are now at a very critical juncture!"

A man in the center of the crowd was presenting his views. This was common at salons: hosts or organizers would inject their views and ideas into the group, which would then be discussed.

They called this "fierce intellectual collision," but the salon was essentially a place for mutual brainwashing: whoever could persuade the other was the one who was brainwashed.

The room was relatively quiet now. Cooper could sense that people highly trusted the man in the center of the room.

"Why do I say this?"

"Because the situation has shifted again. The remaining tribal states have announced their goal to reclaim Zhuolan and eliminate the rebel army; they are marching toward Zhuolan."

"They themselves represent the legitimate ruling class of Rapa. If they can drive the anti-government forces out of Zhuolan, or even completely annihilate them..."

"Then there is still hope for this matter!"

"As long as they continue to acknowledge the agency documents signed by Diego, the stock price will soar again!"

"Of course, this isn't absolute. It's possible they won't recognize the documents signed by Diego, in which case the stock will take a heavy blow!"

The room suddenly erupted into noise. Everyone seemed to want to voice their opinion at this moment, creating a ruckus.

The host pounded the microphone several times. The piercing sound from the amplifier managed to calm the excited crowd.

"Listen to me first!"

"I called everyone here today to analyze the true situation, so that you, including myself, can look at the entire matter rationally."

"If anyone shouts or argues loudly again, please leave. You are not welcome here!"

"Right now, if you leave yourself, we can maintain mutual dignity. If you don't plan to leave, then you had better learn to respect me, otherwise it will be embarrassing when I throw you out!"

"Everyone gathered here today is an elite of Deterland. If I throw you out, you'll be the laughingstock of all Deterland tomorrow!"

He finished speaking and waited a moment. The room was quiet. Cooper looked toward the door; no one was leaving.

"Good. Since none of you are leaving, then be a civilized person, and don't you dare interrupt me until I finish speaking!"

He smoothed his hair. "I said the stock will take a heavy blow—I didn't mean from its current basis, but rather in relation to the ultimate goal we have in mind."

"In reality, gentlemen, before Hope Mining announced it was taking over Rapa's state-owned assets, the stock price was even higher than it is now."

"Because we all have confidence in Hope Mining's development in its primary business, and its enormous growth potential is why we invested in it."

"The current sharp drop in price is mainly due to panic selling."

"Once people come to their senses, the price will inevitably rise again to a reasonable level."

"I mean, even if it loses the Rapa state-owned asset agency contract, its price will still be much higher than it is now."

"So you don't need to worry about that at all. Earlier at the exchange, I saw many 'hyenas.' They are buying up your shares at an unreasonable, extremely low price."

"These hyenas want to profit immensely from our momentary emotional collapse and loss of rational thought!"

"Therefore, gentlemen, the most important thing you need to do now is stop the panic selling."

"This is really no big deal. As long as Hope Mining's foundation remains solid, we are still the big winners!"

Cooper, who had been extremely tense, immediately felt his body and emotions relax upon hearing the host's words.

He and the stockbroker exchanged glances, both seeing hope reflected in the other's eyes.