The frenzied rise in Galeel’s market these past few days has brought Bupen back to life. As a potential international financial center, it attracts a multitude of financial investors both dostic and foreign.
Everywhere brims with a vitality reminiscent of a few years ago. People wear genuine smiles, exchanging investnt insights and exploring new tips.
A man observing the passersby turned around, walked to a reclining chair, and sat down, wearing only a robe.
In his hand, he held a pure silver Kleve, and a bottle of expensive high-end liquor was placed on the table beside him.
Everything in the room exuded luxury!
He exhaled the rich smoke that circled in his mouth, then asked a question, "Is it possible for Galeel to crash?"
Besides him, there were others in the room.
So girls attentively served these people, most of whom weren’t from the Federation. They hailed from all over the world, yet shared the sa moniker—foul-slling international speculators.
The only thing that brought joy to these people was making money. In the process of earning, they never considered whether their speculative behavior might have dire impacts and consequences on certain regions or families.
Sotis, they even gleefully discussed bankrupting families or how many people jumped from rooftops due to their actions.
They didn’t care; they only cared about how much the numbers in their accounts increased. That’s all they focused on.
Two years ago, they went wild in the Federation, inflating the financial market to a dangerous level. Despite various announcents from the Financial Managent Committee warning people about risks in the financial sector, it was useless.
These people drove prices up insanely by continually exchanging hands, arousing people’s deepest desires, and trapping them in their carefully crafted snare.
In fact, these techniques weren’t that clever, nor did they require imnse power or preparation—just a coordinated start to this ga of hot potato among them, which is precisely the simplest way for international speculators to hurt a country’s financial system.
Speculator (A) sells their financial products at ten dollars to Speculator (B). Speculator (B) sells them back at eleven dollars, then Speculator (A) sells them at twelve dollars to (B).
The financial market follows the real-ti transaction price basis, so by switching hands like this continuously, the prices keep rising to frightening levels.
This is rely a simple description, as the organizers of this hot potato ga aren’t just two people but thousands of international speculators who create a false prosperity in the financial market, which many people fail to see through!
No amount of external persuasion seems to work; they create a scene where bending down could earn money, and everyone joining in madness makes money!
No matter how calm soone is, they lose reason when faced with such frenzied price hikes. As soon as they get involved, they beco a part of the cycle.
Prices rise endlessly, and when they deem it appropriate, they pull out, leaving all the buyers buried.
Sothing worth ten dollars is hyped and exchanged to fifty, a hundred dollars, and they reap multiple, even tenfold, profits, leaving others to fill the void.
Without these unreasonable, market-ignorant speculators, an overheated market would quickly cool down. Yet this cooling is unlike the usual, likened to pouring a bucket of ice water on red-hot steel!
Once panic selling begins, everyone will fall into Hell.
This thod is neither rare nor new!
Auction-focused groups do the sa. Before starting a project, they pick an artist historically noteworthy but whose works are not costly. They purchase all accessible pieces and use dia power for hype.
Then, they auction off so pieces at major auctions. Initially, the prices are indeed low, but they aren’t in a rush.
They bid and buy their own items once, twice, three tis...
Newspapers buzz with reports of this artist’s works suddenly gaining market traction, prices climbing to absurd levels. Subsequently, novice investors, lured by high returns, enter, becoming the new holders.
Yet, once these people buy, they struggle to sell. After the hype, the market eventually regains sanity and calmness.
The current situation mirrors the Federation’s financial market from two years ago. Galeel’s high turnover rate and climbing prices excite yet terrify people.
Another person in the room chuckled, "Whether or not it crashes, it doesn’t matter much to us. The facts have proven this once already."
Others in the room chuckled softly. They did a similar act in the Federation before. Even if so warned investors of potential giant issues, greedy people existed. As long as there’s a hint of greed, they could profit.
"The Federation is still wealthy!" One couldn’t help but laugh, saying, "Two years ago, their finances took a hit but look now, behind every lit window on the streets likely is an investor. Here is like a never-exhausting gold mine. As long as you wield your pickaxe, you’ll surely strike gold!"
People roared with laughter, and soon their conversation shifted from finance to other topics, discussing things that left the girls blushing, further lifting their spirits.
After a chaotic night, they slept deeply in a villa, bought at a very low price during the financial tsunami in the Federation two years back.
The Federation’s financial market was becoming more sophisticated, more prosperous, allowing trading of most global financial products. This enlarged the Federation’s financial environnt and industry influence, attracting people there.
Many international financial workers began shifting focus from Gafura and other countries to the Federation. The Federation’s naval victory was a crucial factor, suggesting it might beco the world’s financial core.
Thus, investing early in real estate seed very necessary, as those properties could yield huge profits later.
As long as the returns were high enough, these speculators didn’t mind investing in slow-return industries.
Just when everyone in the room relished the remnants of yesterday’s madness, there was a thunderous knocking on the door. The villa owner casually donned a robe, grumbled, and crawled out from the heap of bodies, heading to the door to open it.
The sunlight outside imdiately pierced into the space, illuminating their pale faces. A night of indulgence had sapped much of their energy and vitality, making everyone look terrible.
Shielding his eyes, he irritably asked, "What’s going on? Can’t you see I’m still sleeping?"
His assistant stood silhouetted against the light, highlighting bleakness on a face he couldn’t see until the assistant stepped closer, revealing his panic.
That made him realize sothing was amiss. He quickly grasped the assistant’s arm, standing at the doorway, and asked, "What happened?"
His assistant’s eyes brimd with uncontrolled fear. He gulped and whispered, "Sothing major happened..."
"A Provincial Governor in Nagariel has declared independence from the Nagariel United Kingdom, becoming the ngwu Neutral Country..."
Tinnitus is a strange phenonon, with so doctors believing it stems from changes in brain pressure. A sudden shift in brain pressure can compress certain neural tissues, leading to hallucinations, tinnitus, or even visual hallucinations.
Such phenona disappear when blood and brain pressure normalize.
Previously, this man had never experienced tinnitus, but at this mont, the world suddenly fell silent, with no sound but a persistent buzzing in his ears.
It resembled a TV without a signal, with an endless siren blaring from the buzzer.
Black spots appeared in his vision, his balance faltered, nearly causing him to fall. Last night’s exertion combined with such a severe shock overwheld him, and he fainted.
When he awoke, he found himself in a hospital. None of his friends were there, just his assistant pacing in worry.
Seeing him awake, the assistant hurried over, inquiring about his condition, but he ignored it, gripping the assistant’s hand tightly and straining to ask, "Did you clear the stocks?"
The assistant’s face turned grim, indicating it’s more complicated than anticipated. He asked again, "Where’s the Federation’s fleet?"
He asked, suddenly inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as a piercing headache made him cry out.
He held onto a sliver of hope, certain the Federation wouldn’t allow chaos in Nagariel. The Federation had too many interests there and sent a fleet, presumably now off Nagariel’s coast.
If the fleet reached Nagariel and took an aggressive stance, everything could potentially be salvaged.
But his assistant’s next words chilled him to the bone, "The Federation’s Minister of Foreign Affairs just... held a press conference, announcing to the worldwide audience that the Federation won’t interfere in other countries’ dostic affairs..."
"The Federation fleet is there solely to ensure the safety of Federation investors and workers, deterring the Nagariel people. They... aren’t there to help the Nagariel royal family ’quell the rebellion’!"
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