Kaka's Twins

The whole world was shocked.

Argentina had played beautifully before, yet they had not looked like champions.

This Argentina side was very pragmatic. Their attack was somewhat constipated, but their defense had performed superbly.

Before this match, not even Ramos and William Hill, who trusted Huang Kaiwen more than anyone, had expected Italy to massacre Argentina at Corinthians Stadium.

7-0—a bloody scoreline.

The greatest humiliation in history.

Today, Argentina's players would all have to bear the fans' fury. Even Sabella, the veteran coach who had announced in advance that he would step down after the World Cup, could not escape it.

The Argentina players lay on the grass for a long time, unwilling to get up. Their fans sat blankly in the stands, their eyes empty.

This match had nearly crushed Argentina.

Not the team, but the country.

Still, Huang Kaiwen felt that a country where organ and drug trafficking were legal, and which acted as the United States' fuck toy, would be much the same whether it collapsed or not.

Just look at Japan.

Even if Huang the Ball King did not reap them, Wall Street would.

The yen's exchange rate was entirely up to its American daddy.

You knew it would fall, they knew it would fall, and there was no problem making a little money by following them in. But if you added even a little leverage, they would immediately create some volatility and reap a small fry like you in minutes.

So even if you knew the trend, it was hard to short under those circumstances. Unless you truly had enough capital, they only needed to control a slight rebound and your money would evaporate. Capitalists were not running charities for you. You wanted to drink a little soup with them, but every cent you took