Chapter 373: Wolves of capital and the divine weapon's sequel
Late November, Wall Street, United States.
In stark contrast to the efforts of the World Anti-Dark Tide Convention Alliance's member nations to protect their citizens by every means available, an air of depression lingered here.
The financial system was still holding together, but the stock market had been bleeding red, with several crashes already behind it.
Almost anyone with even a little financial knowledge was pessimistic about stocks and securities. How could shrewd traders and market manipulators possibly fail to understand the current situation?
Had they fled, then?
In fact, things were a little different.
Wallef Wood, a fifty-five-year-old Wall Street financial magnate, not only excelled at stocks and futures but also enjoyed earning his wealth by breaking up and acquiring bankrupt companies.
Financial businessmen like him were hardly rare on Wall Street. Wood was merely one of the better-known examples.
At that moment, he stood before his office's floor-to-ceiling window, a glass of red wine in one hand and a cigar between his lips, gazing at the view outside.
The pedestrians on the street were still dressed in sharp suits, but they all seemed to be hurrying somewhere.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock sounded at the door.
Without changing his stance, Wood took a sip of wine.
"Come in."
"Sir, fifty percent of the funds from your overseas investments have been recovered. I'm afraid recovering the rest in the short term isn't very realistic."
The newcomer was Wood's secretary, a young man with exceptional financial talent.
"Mm. Fifty percent is already very good. Put ninety percent of that in. Buy up as much as we can!"
The secretary understood what Wood meant. They had done this several times before. He hesitated, puzzled but reluctant to speak.
The gray-haired Wood