"Slander! This is blatant slander!"
Lin Hao righteously refuted him. "The reason I, the stock god of S.P.E.A.R., have dominated the market all these years is because of my foresight, sharp instincts, and extensive theoretical knowledge."
Zheng Xian rolled his eyes furiously in the video. "Planning which company boss to kidnap first, then shorting the stock with leverage—that's foresight."
"Buying the dip after driving down the share price, then releasing the guy and claiming it was all a misunderstanding before pumping the stock and cashing out at the peak—that's sharp instincts."
"You still can't deny that I have extensive theoretical knowledge. Otherwise, how could I kidnap one after—" Lin Hao stubbornly argued. "Pah! I mean, stake one out every time!"
"By theoretical knowledge, do you mean knowledge of how to make slow-acting poison?"
Zheng Xian glared at Lin Hao. "Other people fleece a sheep once and call it enough. You, on the other hand, keep shearing it until it's dead!"
"The bosses you kidnap go to the hospital for examinations and initially nothing is wrong. Then, after you cash out at the peak, all sorts of problems suddenly show up, letting you short them hard one more time!"
That was Lin Hao's plain and unadorned secret to stock trading.
Zheng Xian solemnly warned him, "Shanghai and Shenzhen put you on their blacklist ages ago. Hong Kong stocks are practically our own people now, so we can't let you mess around any—"
"U.S. stocks. Stark Industries. You in?" Lin Hao could not be bothered to argue further.
"I'm in!" Zheng Xian made his decision at once. "I'll have the institutions under my control prepare the funds immediately."
Who would turn down money?
S.P.E.A.R. had one hundred and fifty thousand mouths to feed. With people and horses consuming supplies every day, no amount of funding was ever enough.
"Stop dawdling. Just follow my moves when the time comes." Lin Hao hung up.
After leaving Tony Stark's villa, Lin Hao headed for Wall Street, America's financial center.
Along this street, only one-third of a mile long and eleven meters wide, stood the offices of banks, insurance companies, shipping firms, railroads, and other enterprises established by financial groups such as the Rothschilds, Morgans, Rockefellers, Goldman Sachs, and DuPont. It was also home to the famous New York Stock Exchange.
Financial conglomerates gathered here. It was the headquarters of the great predators of international capital.
With his current identity, Lin Hao could only be considered modestly wealthy on Wall Street, barely qualified to enter the VIP lounge. During the five years the androids had operated in America, Lin Hao had come to the New York Stock Exchange under several identities, making him a somewhat familiar face.
"Mr. Lin, I've been expecting you."
Alber Ellis was a somewhat renowned stockbroker on Wall Street and one of Lin Hao's regular proxies over the past few years.
When they first met five years ago, Alber Ellis had not thought much of this young Asian man and had merely received him out of professional courtesy.
He had assumed Lin Hao was some rich young heir relying on family wealth to prove himself on Wall Street, someone who would soon be taught a harsh lesson by reality before obediently returning home to eat, drink, and have fun.
To his utter surprise, this man's predictions of the financial markets were nothing short of miraculous. After several trades, the initial capital had grown nearly a hundredfold.
Alber no longer dared underestimate the young rich heir. Instead, he secretly followed Lin Hao's trades, multiplying his own assets dozens of times over the years and making a name for himself on Wall Street in one stroke.
After learning that Lin Hao was of Chinese descent, Alber put great effort into teaching himself Chinese in order to better serve this god of wealth. By now, he could communicate normally.
Unfortunately, this god of wealth did not visit Wall Street often, sometimes only once a year, leaving Alber longing for him day after day.
Still, whenever the god of wealth came, he generally made money. It was only a matter of how much. The few losses had all come when major players suddenly hammered the market, but Lin Hao had escaped quickly, suffering no real harm.
Alber did not know that he was merely one of Lin Hao's proxies. Those losses had been staged by Lin Hao himself, who had made the money back through his other proxies.
Otherwise, winning without ever losing would have drawn too much attention.
Lin Hao maintained many identities, and S.P.E.A.R. controlled even more accounts. Every market entry was spread out across multiple operations, ensuring America's financial regulators could find nothing unusual.
Today, the moment Alber received Lin Hao's call, he turned away appointments with his other clients and waited solely for the god of wealth's arrival.
Once they entered the VIP lounge, Alber attended to him eagerly and cautiously asked, "How do you plan to operate this time, Mr. Lin?"
"Five million dollars, tenfold leverage, short Stark Industries," Lin Hao said casually.
"What?" Even knowing Lin Hao's past record, Alber was still astonished. "Short Stark Industries?"
"Stark Industries has been rising continuously for the past six months. Its stock has barely fallen at all."
Alber found Lin Hao's choice unbelievable and hurriedly shared the intelligence he had gathered. "Although Tony Stark did not attend the military's awards ceremony last night, and news has come from The Pentagon that the Air Force intends to reduce next year's orders from Stark Industries—"
"Other companies simply cannot compare with Stark Industries, which has Tony Stark, a genius, in the field of high-tech weapons."
Never underestimate Wall Street stockbrokers' information channels. Something that had happened only last night was already known to them before the market opened this morning.
"Are you telling me how to do my job?" Lin Hao glanced at Alber.
"I wouldn't dare..." Alber gave an awkward smile.
Naturally, he did not dare offend the god of wealth. But Stark Industries was green across the board, without even a hint of red in sight. To be safe, Alber did not dare follow him this time.
Alber soon completed the necessary transactions, and Lin Hao left in satisfaction.
There should still be more than ten hours before the news broke. Once the market opened tomorrow, Stark Industries' share price would surely collapse like an avalanche.
Stark Industries' strength rested entirely on Tony Stark. His unparalleled talent allowed the company's high-tech weapons to far surpass those of other firms.
But that was also Stark Industries' greatest weakness. The more investors trusted Tony Stark, the more intense their panic would be once they learned something had happened to him.
After getting into a car and leaving, Lin Hao soon changed his appearance again. Under another identity, he entered the exchange and made the same trade.
"Sir, are you looking to invest?" A stockbroker approached Lin Hao and rapidly pitched him. "I have several excellent stocks here. It's a great time to buy them."
The man before him was already middle-aged, but he lacked the common obese build of American middle-aged men and instead appeared thin.
His shirt was of a decent brand but old, with signs of wear on the inner sides of the cuffs. His suit had the typical boxy American cut, visibly too loose, and likewise bore the obvious marks of time.
"Hey, Adam!"
Another stockbroker hurried over, dressed head to toe in Armani. The lines were sleek and the tailoring structured; even an ordinary person could see at a glance that it looked expensive.
"You're an old broker too. Don't tell me you need me to explain Wall Street's rules to you?"
"Sorry!" Adam Smith finally realized Lin Hao was someone else's client. He bent at the waist and turned to leave.
After driving away the colleague trying to steal his business, the man put on an enthusiastic smile and said to Lin Hao, "Mr. Kurosaki, this way, please."
Lin Hao looked back at the unfortunate man and heard a great deal of whispering around him.
"Poor old Adam. The last thing he should be doing now is selling stocks. He should be getting a divorce. His wife is his biggest bad asset."
"He doesn't dare. If he divorces her, the court will award her half his property, and he'll have to pay child support too. Then the other half of his assets will be finished as well. And the daughter isn't even his."
"But Mrs. Smith really is smoking hot!"
"You tried your luck too?"
"'Too'? You little bastard! No wonder you got Adam drunk at the last gathering and even volunteered to take him home."
"Hehehe..."
No one saw Adam Smith, leaving with his head lowered, clenching his teeth as fury burned in his eyes.
Lin Hao gave him another look, then went to the VIP lounge and completed the transaction.
On his way out, he deliberately detoured past Adam Smith's desk and casually slipped a black videotape into his briefcase.
Before you continue