Age Fubao: Be a group pet in the cannon fodder home

Chapter 1011 Exclamation point

Wilson's office on Friday.

Precious wines are placed on the table.

This is a treasure that the Wilson family has kept in the cellar for many years, and it is difficult to buy in the market.

Wilson unceremoniously pulled out the wine cork, raised his neck and drank down his throat, choking himself to cough again and again.

Then the interest came, he stood up abruptly, jumped onto the table, and smashed the wine bottle down.

The wine, which exudes the rusticity of oak and the sweetness of grapes, twists and turns, staining the floor of the office.

Wilson couldn't hide his excitement on his face, and he didn't feel that he was reckless at all.

"I'm a billionaire now!" Wilson laughed loudly, "My face should be printed on the family crest in the future!"

Compared with Wilson's madness, Qiu He seemed calm and indifferent.

With the coffee cup in his hand, he blocked it with the other hand, as if afraid of being splashed by Wilson's saliva, and gave him a warning sideways glance.

Wilson suddenly felt as if he was a monkey, jumping off the table embarrassingly.

"Qiu, this time you made no less money than me, maybe even more."

"Those are not my money, I borrowed them."

Qiu He told the truth, but in exchange for Wilson's big laughter.

"Don't be kidding, even if it wasn't yours before, part of it must be yours now."

Even if the money is calculated according to the lowest commission, Qiu He can still get a lot of money.

Qiu He drank the last sip of coffee in the coffee cup and put it on the table.

"I'm not interested in money, it's just numbers."

If this sentence is said by others, it will appear too pretentious.

But when Wilson heard what Qiu He said, he felt logical.

Before, the loss was almost liquidated, and Qiu also had the same expression, and it hasn't changed much now.

Are there really people in the world who don't care about money?

But Qiu He didn't care, Wilson cared, he cared terribly.

Picking up the phone is going to mock that old Matisse.

However, there was an unfamiliar voice on the other side of the phone.

"He...he's not in the office."

At this moment, Mattis is standing on the rooftop of the headquarters.

The wind blew his crumpled coat like a flag, more like a bird's wing.

All of Caput's funds were lost by him, and Matisse could not afford to pay, or even recover a little loss.

All his personal assets were mortgaged by him and put into the stock market on the eve of the avalanche.

Now Matisse is worse than a pauper.

At least the poor don't have such huge debts.

Matisse thought a lot. He thought of the time when he was complacent, and thought that he thought he could see the stock market clearly forever.

He once started from here, earning a lot of money from the commission of selling inferior stocks, and made countless middle-class families go bankrupt because of his wealth.

That's why Ace jumped off the stairs.

Matisse didn't fluctuate when he knew it, let alone feel guilty, he just thought the other party was a clown who couldn't afford to lose.

It was only at this moment that Matisse finally realized that the clown was actually himself.

A month ago, he was ambitious to enter the Chinese market, overwhelming the local companies there.

A month later, he stood on the rooftop and ushered in the final ending.

"He who sells his soul to money becomes a slave to money."

Mattis forgot where he heard this sentence, it may be a competitor, or it may be a homeless man.

But Mattis remembers hearing it with disapproval.

He always thinks that Lady Luck will always be on his side, and he will become the master of money.

"Fuck the money!"

These were the last words Matisse left to the world. The man jumped down like a bird with its wings broken.

Finally hit the ground hard.

Like a bloody exclamation point.

(End of this chapter)