Invasion of America

Chapter 95: Warming up?

On the fourth day after the stock market crash, Zhou Qingfeng was still hiding in Mrs. Grey's country villa, as if he had found an isolated island in the storm-ravaged world.

Apart from driving to a nearby supermarket to bring back enough food supplies to last him half a month, he hardly moved from his nest. Like a hibernating bear, he deliberately kept himself away from the chaos of the outside world.

Because the situation outside is too chaotic, changing too quickly, it is extremely confusing and it is impossible to see the direction at all.

Wall Street's two major stock indexes triggered circuit breakers twice in four days. The indexes jumped like the dying struggles of a dying person, and the decline curve was as steep as a crack on the edge of a cliff.

On social media, retail investors were like wild beasts trapped in a trap, howling miserably.

Someone posted a screenshot of their account being cleared to zero. The red number “-98%” on the screen was like a sharp knife stabbing into their heart.

Someone uploaded a video, in which the camera shook and swept across the streets of Wall Street, with torn reports and crushed coffee cups scattered on the ground.

The trader in a suit and tie squatted on the side of the road, his head in his hands, his eyes empty as if he had lost his soul.

Someone in the live broadcast room hysterically shouted at the camera: "This is a robbery, this is the end of the world, our property has been looted!"

In the background, on this person’s computer screen, the K-line image of a falling meteor drew a shocking red line.

Meanwhile, news websites are refreshing their headlines faster than anyone else:
"Global stock markets are in a bloodbath: over $10 trillion evaporated", "Hedge fund giants go bankrupt and liquidate", "The Federal Reserve's emergency meeting is fruitless, investor confidence plummets to freezing point".

Every time the post is refreshed, hundreds of curses and cries appear in the comment section. Some people predict that this is a "repeat of 1929", while others simply declare that "civilization is over."

The TV host feigned calmness in front of the camera. "*** Bank has suspended withdrawals. Please remain calm... Don't run on the bank... Financial experts say..."

On the fourth day, market pessimism reached its peak.

The two major stock indexes fell by more than 30%, and just when everyone thought the end was coming, the wind direction suddenly changed.

At the urging of the White House and Congress, the U.S. Treasury Department suddenly issued a special $2 trillion treasury bond.

America cannot lose its financial hegemony, and the "yellow-haired" in the White House cannot tolerate a continued decline in the stock market.

The Federal Reserve activated its "nuclear-powered printing press" to buy the treasury bonds, and the US dollar flooded into the market, forcibly propping up the shaky stock market.

Financial institutions that have lost all their money have been eager to get the money and have been exchanging their stocks for US dollars from the Treasury.

The red line of stock trading suddenly turned green, like an electrocardiogram being pulled back from the death line by an electric shock, and the jumping numbers made people dizzy.

At the close of the fourth day, the Dow Jones soared more than 10 points, the Nasdaq jumped 500% as if it had taken stimulants, and the S&P curve seemed to be boosted by a rocket, piercing the sky directly.

The global financial markets reacted quickly to the news. Europe's DAX and Asia's Nikkei 225, like a group of awakened wild horses, followed the US stock market and ran wildly.

The retail investors who had just been crying and wailing in the live broadcast room were celebrating together. Someone sent a screenshot of their account, and someone shouted "miracle of saving the market."

News headlines instantly changed from "rivers of blood" to "miracle reversal," with public opinion enthusiastically praising it: "MAGA! Long live the Federal Reserve!"

It was like a financial doomsday blockbuster that was forcibly twisted into a redemption drama.

Amidst a bunch of 'big news', the news that 'Todai' resumed commercial flights but required incoming passengers to be quarantined for fourteen days was completely drowned out.
-
In this chaotic carnival, Jeff Connolly, who hadn't been able to go to Dongda, called Zhou Qingfeng like a banker who had won the bet and said proudly:

"Victor, I have two pieces of news for you. Do you want to hear the good news first, or the bad news?"

Zhou Qingfeng said indifferently: "Listen carefully first."

Jeff's tone was as cheerful as a prodigal son who had just returned from the casino with a splurge: "The good news is that I guess the Ministry of Finance will step in to rescue the market.

On the day of the crash, I shorted the market with the funds from Pioneer Holdings and made a huge profit.

Then I started waiting for insider information, building up positions for three consecutive days, preparing to go long. Today the stock market soared, and guess what?

He paused, his voice full of undisguised boasting, "As the chairman of Pioneer Holdings, I solemnly inform our distinguished investors.

Victor, your personal bank balance has increased by another 30%, more than when you won the lottery. You now have over $ billion in your account."

Zhou Qingfeng glanced at the financial statement on his mobile phone. The densely packed numbers looked like a string of jumping musical notes, making it difficult to count the specific amount at a glance.

The money is really being spent more and more.

Jeff's voice continued to chatter in his ears: "This wave of volatility isn't over yet, but it's too dangerous to stay in the stock market. I suggest taking advantage of this crazy surge and cashing out. What do you think?"

"Okay." Zhou Qingfeng responded.

Jeff chuckled and continued, "Then here comes the 'bad news'—you have so much money in your hands, what are you going to do with it?

It's a shame to keep it in the bank; the interest rate is too low. The funds need to be flowing, otherwise they'll just be a bunch of dead numbers."

Zhou Qingfeng had no idea about this and was silent for a while before he slowly said, "Buy gold, physical gold.

The stock market is so crazy, gold is bound to rise. Also, I need some US dollars in cash, about a million, have someone deliver it to me."

On the other end of the phone, Jeff Connelly was sitting in a conference room in Miami, with the endless city skyline outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Ah... this coincides with my point. The chaos isn't over yet. Gold is the best safe-haven asset, so its price is bound to soar.

By the way, do you want to invest in some more cryptocurrency? I’m optimistic about Bitcoin, what do you think?

Jeff rarely asked Zhou Qingfeng for his opinion. In his eyes, the guy had predicted the excess deaths and must have some inside information, so his opinion was already valuable for reference.

"No." Zhou Qingfeng refused without even thinking.

After the collapse of U.S. stocks and bonds, a large amount of safe-haven funds had nowhere to go and flocked to the virtual currency market like a panicked flock of sheep.

But this trend is a game of "pass the parcel", and the last fool to enter the market is destined to be penniless.

Especially on the eve of the outbreak of the "X" virus, what's the point of having a lot of virtual currencies? It's better to hoard US dollars - at least the latter can really be used as toilet paper to wipe your butt.

"I see. Virtual currency is not safe." Jeff picked up a pen and drew a thick line on the line "Purchase virtual currency".

There were seven or eight financial professionals in suits gathered around the conference table. Behind their glasses, they stared at the notebook in Jeff's hand and crossed out the same options on their tablets.

Jeff cleared his throat and his tone became serious: "Victor, besides gold, do you have any other suggestions for hedging funds?"

"What... asking me about capital hedging?" Zhou Qingfeng was stunned and thought to himself: "How would I know this?"

For him, the more than 1.3 billion US dollars was a pie in the sky. He had spent more than 800 million a few days ago, and now it has inexplicably risen again.

"That's it..." Jeff paused, then decided to get straight to the point. "You have over $1.3 billion in your account now. What are you going to do with it?"

Zhou Qingfeng didn't bother to think about things he didn't understand. He always threw financial issues aside, "Leave it all to Kelly. Let her handle it."

Jeff Connolly on the other end of the phone was stunned for a moment, his pen hovering above his notebook, and his tone was a little surprised: "How much?"

"About one billion US dollars." Zhou Qingfeng is not a financial expert and doesn't understand investment portfolios or risk hedging.

Kelly was willing to go to Dongda to manage Electric Flight for him, working tirelessly, so he put his trust in her. It was that simple. Jeff's mind raced, "Victor, you mean to give the funds to Electric Flight managed by Kelly? Investing in corporate bonds?"

The seven or eight financial professionals around him pricked up their ears, like a group of jackals on the African grasslands, discovering the traces of prey.

Zhou Qingfeng frowned and asked, "Is my bank account regulated now? Can it be transferred to Dongda?"

"It's indeed regulated, but there must be a way." Jeff answered quickly, his mind already starting to think about offshore accounts and tax loopholes.

"Then let Kelly take charge."

The shelter Zhou Qingfeng built was not a doomsday fortress that was hollowed out of a mountain and sealed for decades. It was just some rented remote abandoned factories and warehouses to store some supplies.

His biggest expenses are buying canned food, medicines, accessories and the like, which is far from enough to cost a billion dollars.

The money in the account will get moldy if kept, so it is better to send it back to "Todai". Even if it is used to pay employees more and make everyone happy, it is worse than leaving it in the bank account.

Jeff immediately scribbled the words "Electric Flight Corporate Bond" on his notebook. "Okay, I understand what you mean. Would you mind if the corporate bond issuance was a bit larger?"

"Don't mind. Let Kelly decide."

When the call ended, the conference room fell silent.

When the call ended, the financial professionals around Jeff felt unfathomable - a true financial giant decided to invest billions of dollars casually.

But there was also a troublemaker who spoke up first, "Mr. Connery, your investor doesn't seem to understand the business very well. Isn't his decision too hasty?"

In the investment banking circle, this phrase refers to "big fat sheep".

If you encounter such an investor who knows nothing, it would be a shame for the professional qualities of a professional manager not to take advantage of him.

They put the clients' money into their own pockets, and then later throw out a bunch of fancy performance reports, saying that the losses are due to the bad environment, and no one will really pursue it.

To be honest, Jeff Connally had similar thoughts. But just think about Governor Ellison Parker who died on the street.
"If even the Department of Homeland Security can't handle this guy, why don't you try to figure out his limits? I'd love to hear the results."

Everyone looked at each other in bewilderment, and the greed that had just risen in their hearts was replaced by a chill - this investor may not understand finance, but he obviously understands the means of "eliminating finance" better than anyone else.

Jeff looked at the notebook in his hand and finally put a heavy "check" on "Electric Flight Enterprise Bond".

"If Victor is truly willing to invest real money, I can follow suit. As for Kelly, she's my daughter, so she should give me a good interest rate on the bond."

Everyone present looked at each other in bewilderment, not quite sure whether the chairman of Pioneer Holdings was just being mysterious or really planning to invest heavily.

But now the U.S. Treasury is "flooding the market with money," and Wall Street's financial capital has just been untied, and the group is in a collective "frightened" situation.

The background of the stock market crash is that some people have discovered the secret of "excess deaths" and hope to escape before the economy collapses.

Now a lot of hot money is flowing into nowhere, and a peaceful "reservoir" is urgently needed - at this time, it seems that there is only one place in the world that is relatively peaceful.

"I still need to go to the University of the East," Jeff sighed and called his secretary over. "Book a flight and go to the University of the East. I want to do a field trip to see 'electric flight'."
-
Zhou Qingfeng turned on his computer, connected to the private domain server set up by Grey Shark, and received emails to handle some work.

First of all, it’s the Congers family. Zhou Qingfeng hasn’t met them for almost two months since they were wanted.

After being caught and interrogated by Monica for no reason, Zhou Qingfeng asked Director Carl Vinson of the FBI Miami Branch to help take care of him.

Monica once suspected that Karl and Zhou Qingfeng were still in contact, and she was not wrong - the two sides had always had a tacit secret connection.

The Director said that he would never give up the hunt for Zhou Qingfeng, but he was willing to protect Zhou Qingfeng's friends who had no criminal record.

After falling out with the "Tree of Justice", Carl arranged for the Congers and their family of three to leave Miami and go to the nearby Bahamas to take charge of the "electric flight" business.

At first, Carl Vincent felt a little grateful for this "care," as if he had to repay the life-saving grace.

But as Zhou Qingfeng was wanted longer, his network of contacts became wider and wider, and the fame of "Electric Flight" became greater.

Director Vincent's mentality also changed accordingly. He felt that having such a "legendary friend" was not a bad thing, and he even secretly felt a little "proud of it."

During the stock market crash, Carl Vinson sent Zhou Qingfeng a brief email. It had no title or signature, just a few simple words.
"Thank you for the news. The family of three is safe."

'Thank you' is a reminder for Zhou Qingfeng.

Americans love to invest in the stock market or buy financial products. This is why the "yellow-haired" president prioritizes the stock market. If the stock market is unstable, the US will literally collapse.

Anyone who avoids the stock market crash will be grateful, especially when they see other people's life savings go to waste, while they have escaped by luck, they will thank God and Victor.

As for the "family of three", it refers to the Congers family, indicating that the director will continue to take care of them, which can be regarded as a tacit understanding and reward.

The next email was sent by Xiao Jinlang, with just two words "Thank you" - Zhou Qingfeng sent out the news that Marco might be a carrier of the super virus.

Lao Ma's research value is higher than Zhou Qingfeng's - whether it is the healer's serum or the gene that matches the 'X' virus, they are both priceless treasures.

The next email was from Kelly, talking about the sudden flight ban issued by the University of the East and the revised mandatory entry quarantine.

Zhou Qingfeng did mention the "billion-dollar corporate debt" and replied, "Double the wages of all Electric Flight employees and shorten the payment cycle for suppliers."
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Currently, Marcos is staying at a five-star hotel in Washington, D.C. He met with several members of Congress last week to discuss some business matters.

But after the meeting, the company seemed to have forgotten about him and did not assign him any follow-up work.

Marco had nothing to do all day, and with his considerable daily travel allowance, he simply wandered around the capital of the United States.

He toured Capitol Hill, wandered the National Mall, saw the white marble steps of the Lincoln Memorial, and drank an outrageously expensive latte in a Georgetown alley.

These days are leisurely and really enjoyable.

The only thing that made him uneasy was the series of strange things that had happened in the hotel in recent days.

The German diplomat I met last week was hospitalized; the room lady I met five days ago was unwell and asked for leave to rest; and yesterday, the Japanese friend in the suite next door was suddenly sent to the ICU in the middle of the night.

Hotel room occupancy rates are quietly declining.

"It's so scary. Something big happened in the United States." He went downstairs to the restaurant for dinner.

The restaurant was originally brightly lit with waiters running around, but tonight it was deserted like an empty shell, with only a few tables occupied.

The pianist in the corner was too lazy to play and just sat there with his head down, scrolling through his phone.

He ordered a steak, but when he cut it, he found the meat was a little cold. The waiter explained perfunctorily, "The chef is short-handed today."

Marco sighed, stabbing his plate with his fork, thinking, "This stock market crash has affected so many people; even the place where we ate collapsed. That chef must have lost a ton of money."

Just as he was sighing, a figure suddenly appeared in front of him. It was a strange man wearing a black mask, staring at Marco coldly.

The man stopped and spoke in a low voice, "Hello, Mr. Ma, my name is Xiao Jinlang. Mr. Zhou introduced me here. Is it convenient for us to chat?"

(End of this chapter)