At two thirty in the morning, the train finally ca to a slow stop outside the Bupen Central Train Station. Erging along with the sparse crowd from the station, Lynch took a deep breath.
Amidst the polluted air, there was a sll that excited every cell; it was the scent of a big city!
In Sabin City, after eight p.m., the streets were so dark you could hardly see anything, even in better neighborhoods, and the dim streetlights were unsettling.
Except for a few central districts that remained brightly lit overnight, most areas beca as silent as water once night fell.
But look at this place; the whole city seed to be glowing. Though, undoubtedly, there were so very dark spots, the sky over the city center was as bright as day.
"Sir, need a ride?" one of the taxi drivers waiting outside the station proactively asked.
Lynch glanced at him and couldn’t help but chuckle. Big cities are indeed different from small ones; even taxi drivers have different attire.
Taxi drivers in Sabin City don’t have any uniform accessories; they just need to pay for an operating permit from a taxi managent company to start their taxi service.
No one had any strict requirents for them, let alone dress codes, so when you took a taxi in Sabin City, you’d see many drivers dressed oddly, especially in the sumr.
It’s said that once a passenger complained about a driver not wearing pants and demanded compensation from the driver and the managent company for her ntal damages. Yes, a female passenger, she felt insulted in a certain sense.
Look at this place; taxi drivers wore black uniforms, had wide-brimd hats, and even wore white gloves. They looked reassuring.
Lynch nodded and opened the car door for Vera.
Lynch carried no luggage, though Vera had a suitcase. After getting into the car, Lynch gave an address, Bupen Grand Hotel, and the taxi driver imdiately started the vehicle.
Bupen Grand Hotel is one of the best hotels in Bupen, primarily used to accommodate important political figures and celebrities, and also hosted so foreign guests. Many believe, whoever stays at Bupen Grand Hotel is definitely soone of status.
Such stereotypical notions persist today. Even the taxi driver, upon hearing Lynch was staying at Bupen Grand Hotel, treated him better.
After about a twenty-minute ride, the whole street had turned from dark to bright. Looking at the bustling street outside the window, Vera was a bit curious, "Is the security here good?"
Lynch then looked at the driver, "Perhaps the driver knows sothing."
Upon hearing this, the driver took a hand to adjust his hat, he had been holding back from talking for ten to twenty minutes, almost suffocating him, and he finally felt comfortable, "Sir, ma’am, Bupen used to be relatively safe, but recently..."
Through the rearview mirror, Lynch saw a solemn expression on his face, "There have been more people roaming around the streets, and recently many robberies occur daily. It was heard that soone even died so days ago."
"If it’s unnecessary, I suggest you two not go out at night."
After hearing this, Vera sighed a bit, "Didn’t expect it’s the sa everywhere!"
The driver seed to sigh too, "Life is getting harder nowadays, it’s the sa here as anywhere else!"
The taxi driver liked to talk a lot, and upon Lynch’s inquiry, he spoke about so unknown news in Bupen recently, like those bond victims from across the country.
These victims gathered together outside City Hall, exchanges, and so financial companies to rally and protest, creating quite a scene.
As they spoke, the car stopped outside the magnificent Bupen Grand Hotel, and the doorman imdiately opened the car door and the luggage compartnt to retrieve passengers’ luggage.
After paying the fare and a tip, Lynch said goodbye to the taxi driver and entered the hotel lobby. Watching Lynch and Vera’s backs, the taxi driver couldn’t help but sigh, that’s deanor.
So passengers began picking faults upon getting into the car and tried to reduce the fare. They would boast too and not respect drivers, let alone give tips. The driver had seen many of such people.
But those who proactively gave tips and still smiled saying "Goodnight" were rare. Maybe these two were so VIPs, only VIPs would have such deanor. Perhaps this could be a bragging topic among him and his peers.
The next morning, thanks to the hotel’s wake-up call, Lynch woke up on ti, and to his surprise, Vera was even earlier and waiting in the lobby.
After eting, they enjoyed a Bupen-special breakfast in the restaurant, Lynch brought up the main task for this visit to Bupen.
When Vera heard he was buying bonds, she couldn’t help but be shocked, "Are you crazy? Those things are just waste paper now. Did you get sothing wrong?"
While laughing, Lynch said, "That’s why it’s a good ti. I can buy these things with waste paper prices; then wait for it to beco valuable again."
Vera froze, "How much are you planning to buy those bonds for?"
Lynch smiled more, "How much money? No, no, dear. You misunderstand the aning of ’acquiring’ I said earlier. I plan to calculate by pounds."
"Didn’t you say it’s nearly waste paper?" Lynch swallowed a cheese ball in one gulp and patted his hands, "Then give it a price fitting its status!"
Vera’s mind couldn’t catch Lynch’s ideas and pace at all. She felt this couldn’t succeed, for a simple reason.
No matter how worthless those bonds beca, they still had a "face value". Who knows if one day they might suddenly be redeemable again? Even if there’s a one-in-ten-thousand chance, people probably wouldn’t truly treat them as waste paper and dispose of them.
This was also a mainstream thought: since those bonds are worthless now, why not keep them?
If it were an isolated incident, naturally Lynch wouldn’t act this way, he’d recover those bonds at a very low price by face value.
But the situation was different now because the disaster had just begun. People hadn’t realized that the two crashes this month were not the end, they didn’t even count as the beginning.
Avoiding this topic, Lynch wiped his hands and stood up, "Anyway, let’s first look at the situation; maybe things might not be as smooth as I imagined."
On Monday, the three major exchanges hadn’t opened yet, a lot of people gathered out front. Last Friday’s crash made smiles disappear from these people’s faces; they stood solemnly at the entrance of the exchanges, murmuring.
The content was nothing more than whether to continue observing or to cut losses promptly.
This ti everyone suffered greatly. Facing a market crash, be it ordinary people or the wealthy, their losses were severe.
Ordinary folks might have lost their savings, maybe so loans too, while the rich lost a percentage of their wealth.
These people concealed a sort of black fear within them, so even slightly trembled. Human insignificance and powerlessness manifested vividly at this mont; faced with such an obvious man-made disaster, there was no way out.
At nine, the exchanges opened, trading personnel first entered the market, followed by all investors, everyone focused on the bulletin board.
At nine twenty, the bulletin board began to flip, pre-market trading started, but everyone’s faces began to change drastically.
Pre-market trading refers to trading behaviors during non-opening tis, affecting a stock’s opening price of the day, foreshadowing to a large degree the day’s trend of a stock.
At nine twenty-nine, the continually flipping bulletin board made the trading hall resemble a funeral. In the last ten seconds, a stock was delisted, intensifying the pessimistic atmosphere further.
At nine thirty exactly, nearly all brokers frantically sold all stocks in their brokerage accounts, offering nine dollars for stocks previously ten dollars a share with no takers, then eight dollars, seven dollars...
As long there were takers, any low price wasn’t impossible; within less than fifteen minutes, the Federation Industrial Index, and three major trading indexes nearly cliff-plunge dropped.
The shock caused by financial markets was far more than physical economic recession. By ten o’clock, everyone in the Federation already knew what happened in Bupen via various channels.
Disaster descended!
Shredded paper waste, scattered everywhere, these stocks beca worth even less than waste paper; angry traders and investors completely lost reason.
Bottomless trends made hearts increasingly uneasy, no one knew when they might hit bottom; panic selling already ford.
At ten ten, the President’s Cabinet issued an ergency presidential order, requiring the three major exchanges to imdiately halt trading, to slow down irrational panic mass selling behaviors.
The Cabinet press spokesman held ergency press conferences, listing so counterasures, including the Federation Governnt utilizing so reserve funds to support the market, preventing a greater disaster.
Perhaps due to the President and Cabinet’s decision giving investors so confidence, after reopening in the afternoon, no significant dive occurred; after briefly leveling off, the Federation Industrial Index, and three major indices rather saw brief upturning.
The increased turnover induced a delusion among people, as if everything would truly beco better, and they were willing to believe that.
Yet all of this halted abruptly amid a fierce commotion...
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