Chapter 1068: Heaven and Hell

If it were peacetime, Cooper's stockbroker might have exchanged heated words with them to prove he wasn't weak.

But the situation was different now. He scanned the trading floor. People were watching the board for changes. Before the market opened, notices were publicly displayed, including the announcement that Hope Mining's trading was suspended pending review.

This made the stockbroker's face turn even paler. In that moment, he looked completely lifeless!

Every person holding Hope Mining stock had the same expression right now.

The stockbroker's eyes were utterly devoid of hope. He turned and left the trading floor. Cooper merely glanced at him before turning his attention to a spot in the distance where a crowd had gathered.

He walked over. Officials from the Financial Security Management Committee were there, explaining the situation to the angry and terrified investors.

"...What I can tell you is that we have immediately begun investigating this incident. Any progress will be disclosed to you and the public immediately."

"Before that, I was just notified by the commission, like you. They gave me a statement to read; I don't know what happened."

"As for your questions regarding compensation, I can hardly give you any answers. The purpose of locking the trading now is to better help us tally the victim group and the amount involved."

"Furthermore, this stock and its company have clearly violated the Financial Security Act and the Trading Act. Therefore, even after we complete the registration and statistics, we will not reopen trading for it."

"We are currently tallying all the assets Hope Mining still possesses. Once the process is complete, those assets will be liquidated and paid out based on the percentage of circulating shares you hold."

Cooper wanted to ask something, but when he opened his mouth, he realized he didn't know what he should ask. The official had already covered everything he wanted to know.

The official even mentioned things Cooper hadn't thought of. What else could he say?

He didn't know what to say.

After a long wait, he finally asked, "Roughly how much compensation will we get?"

The official looked at Cooper, perhaps finding him more agreeable, or perhaps because Cooper's question was what everyone wanted to know. He smiled. "We will announce that later. The asset valuation and payout will all be done publicly. Please keep an eye on the public notices in the Trader's Report and Finance Magazine."

An investor standing next to Cooper, who had also bought Hope Mining stock, turned to him. "Don't expect them to give you much money."

"Maybe a few cents, or perhaps not even a few cents."

Cooper found this hard to believe. He wasn't a veteran investor and hadn't experienced anything like this. Seeing his blank expression, the man continued, "A scam company like this might only have tens of thousands of dollars in assets, or perhaps not even that much."

"But that money has to be divided among many people, split into tens of thousands of portions."

"You'll receive compensation based on your percentage of circulating shares, which might be a few tenths of a percent. It will only be a few cents, no more!"

This wasn't the first time such an incident had occurred. The Financial Management Committee had mature procedures, and based on past cases, this protocol was highly effective.

Cooper's heart sank continuously. He opened his mouth. "Is there a possibility... that this is all just a mistake, that we misunderstood something?"

The person next to him shook his head. "Highly unlikely, friend."

"If it were just a misunderstanding, the Financial Management Committee wouldn't have intervened."

"Once they intervene, it signifies the final outcome."

The man then asked curiously, "How many shares did you buy?"

Cooper laughed twice. In moments of disbelief, people truly feel an impulse to laugh. He shook his head. "Not many. And you?"

The man also smiled. "Actually, I didn't buy any."

He saw the confusion in Cooper's eyes and explained, "They will serve us lunch later today, perhaps even dinner. You know..."

"Even Deterland's fast food is much better than elsewhere!"

Cooper vaguely understood what this guy did: he was a professional moocher.

There were many such people on this street in Deterland. Since the entire street was filled with financial firms, the living standards and demands of these financial elites were much higher than elsewhere.

Take the hot dog stands here, for instance. The hot dog sausages were bigger, longer, and contained more meat chunks, though the price was also higher than elsewhere.

Financial elites didn't care about spending a little more; they only wanted the best!

Various celebration events often occurred here. Someone was always making huge money, and after making money, they wanted to vent their emotions by treating strangers to food or hosting celebrations. These were great opportunities for moochers.

Furthermore, many companies held roadshows and promotional events on the street, offering prizes and food.

There was even a book once called How I Became a Millionaire, whose author and main character started as a young man running errands for spare change on this street, eventually becoming a millionaire!

This bestseller gave many people a comprehensive understanding of Deterland's unique ecosystem.

Hearing that the man was merely a moocher, Cooper's mouth twitched. He couldn't muster much of a smile now.

He had previously thought the man was a victim like himself; now he realized the man was just a spectator.

He glanced at the noisy crowd again, then slowly walked away toward the outside. He needed silence; he needed to figure out how to solve his current predicament.

All his assets had turned into scrap paper overnight. How was he supposed to tell his wife? How was he supposed to explain it to his family?

Furthermore, he needed to find the stockbroker and discuss any potential remedies or solutions.

Meanwhile, at an estate in the suburbs, a celebration banquet was underway.

The upper-class spent their non-working hours either hosting banquets or attending them.

The impeccably dressed ladies and gentlemen, holding expensive golden sparkling wine, toasted and drank heartily!

Today was a good day!

CEO Edward set down his champagne glass. He looked at the guests attending the banquet, his face radiant with a triumphant smile that seemed to emit light!

"Ladies and gentlemen, this time, we harvested over two hundred million dollars ($200,000,000) in profit from the market..."

The ladies and gentlemen immediately erupted in applause, which lasted like thunder. Some even whistled. The scene was less like a formal banquet and more like a sports arena, with spectators cheering for their team.

CEO Edward was smiling broadly. After the applause continued for a while, he raised both hands, signaling for silence.

"So, the only requirement here today is: happiness!"

As numerous young men and women entered the hall, fast-paced, passionate music filled the air, turning the entire venue into an ocean of joy!

Lance stood off to the side, holding his wine glass, observing everything happening here.

The whiskey served at tonight's banquet was Gold Label Whiskey, the best whiskey available from his liquor company.

This was also a form of... cooperation?

Driven by the most primal desires, and stimulated by alcohol, tobacco, and even Ghost Face Mushrooms, many people donned simple masks and exposed their most unrestrained side!

It was a massive, unprecedented orgy!

Of course, some people, like Lance, chose to observe from the sidelines.

You could dislike it and choose not to participate, but there was no need to stop others from enjoying themselves.

CEO Edward approached Lance after attending to some of the guests.

Lance nodded slightly in greeting.

CEO Edward looked at the scene around them and asked with a smile, "Not interested?"

Lance didn't deny it. "Lust is the lowest form of desire, Mr. CEO."

This answer surprised CEO Edward. He paused, then laughed heartily. "A very interesting way to decline. Perhaps I can use it next time."

"Our cooperation this time was perfectly executed. I tallied the figures: we collectively gained over $370 million in profit."

"How much do you think you'll get?"

Lance took a sip of his wine. "I don't know. Around twenty to thirty million?"

This wasn't complex math. He could estimate a rough range, but the more detailed figure required calculation.

"Twenty-eight million dollars ($28,000,000)," CEO Edward said, his smile still spanning his face. "I rounded it up for you."

CEO Edward added, "This is legitimate investment income. I've already taken care of the taxes for you. You can transfer it into any account you wish to deposit it in, at any bank."

The New Golden City was the Federation's largest financial center and also its largest money laundering hub. Money laundering through stocks and private equity funds was commonplace and difficult to trace.

In fact, the bearer bonds issued by the Federal government were themselves a channel for money laundering, though these traditional methods were now less effective compared to financial investments.

The standard tax rate for capital gains tax currently implemented by the Federation was 12.5%, but this rate could be reduced further. This involved tax reduction policies and conflicts between certain local states and the Federation.

When local law conflicted with Federal law, provided it didn't violate the Constitution, the local law of the place where the case occurred was taken as the standard.

In other words, if a local law stipulated a lower tax rate—for example, only a 7% tax on financial investment profits under $1 million (the old tax law)—

Coupled with "long-term holding" tax reduction policies, the final tax paid on the money might be only about 4% to 5%.`

Federal states were inherently prone to such problems and loopholes. Some states, to attract capital to pay taxes within their borders, establish companies, and create jobs, would sometimes implement these policies, even knowing that, in a sense, they were exploiting Federal law loopholes.

The 5% tax might not seem like much, but what if the base figure was in the hundreds of millions?

Five percent of one million is only fifty thousand, but five percent of ten billion is five hundred million. To save the other 750 million dollars in taxes, those capitalists would exhaust every means to finalize their settlements in low-tax states.

Once this money was taxed and became clean, it was wired into designated bank accounts, thereby evading at least 7% of the tax burden.

How to legally avoid taxes in the Federation was always a major topic, sometimes involving economic maneuvering at the state government level.

Lance also smiled faintly. "That's good news!"

CEO Edward seemed surprised. "Do you think it's too little, compared to our total income?"

Lance shook his head. "No, it's actually a lot. But for me, whether it's clean or not doesn't really make much difference."

CEO Edward suddenly realized what Lance's business was: the largest, perhaps, private liquor producer in the Federation. It was rumored that Lance's daily profit exceeded a million dollars!

In that light, such an income stream truly wouldn't excite him much.

"Sometimes I truly envy your businesses. The presses at the mint might work around the clock and still not produce that much money."

"If you have any business cooperation opportunities in the future, consider me, even if I have a smaller share."

CEO Edward wasn't joking, but he wasn't desperate either, because finance was also one of the most lucrative businesses right now.

As long as one completely abandoned their personal moral bottom line and possessed the resolve to break the law, harvesting investors could also yield astonishing incomes.

Lance nodded. "If there are good projects, I will."

CEO Edward took a deep breath. "I need to talk to the others. They are also waiting for this good news."

Lance toasted him. "Please do."

CEO Edward then took a sip of champagne, nodded, and departed.

The entire banquet hall was saturated with an atmosphere of surging desire. Even with closed eyes, one could feel the endless desires of the people intertwining and merging here.

No one cared about the problems the investors would face after this harvest of several hundred million dollars. For these elite, it was merely something that happened to "others" and had nothing to do with them.

All they cared about was the constant flow of figures into their accounts, even if those figures no longer held much tangible meaning for them.

But the essence of life was just this, and everyone was eagerly pursuing the change in numbers, and enjoying every moment of it.