American Hunting: Starting with Solitary Life in the Wilderness

Chapter 274 Beaver DHC-2 Aircraft
Sunday, July 1, 2022.

The morning in Alaska was still dark. But unlike the bluish darkness of the previous days, a faint white light had quietly appeared on the eastern horizon.

The long polar night is coming to an end. More than twenty days have passed quietly in peaceful study and waiting.

Lin Yu'an is finally able to begin practical flight training. He has not only thoroughly mastered the two thick flight textbooks, but has even begun to study instrument flight courses online.

The world outside the window had already undergone a complete transformation.

As he predicted, GameStation's stock price underwent a crazy spectacle that left the world in awe over the next three weeks.

Starting from $22.5 when he bought it, the price fluctuated upwards, breaking through the $40, $60, and $80 levels in succession.

Wall Street giants are finally feeling the pain. Citron Research, a well-known short-selling firm, brazenly announced its surrender yesterday, adding fuel to the fire of retail investors' jubilation.

Lin Yu'an only glanced at the news for a few minutes each day, then stopped paying attention. He was waiting, waiting for that final, and most crucial, trigger signal!
A few days ago, when the first signs of the polar night coming to an end appeared, the familiar roar of a snowmobile broke the tranquility of the cabin.

Lin Yu'an put down the book in his hand and went outside. He saw his old friend Stan jumping out of the car. Stan was wearing a thick deerskin coat and his weathered beard was covered with white ice crystals.

"Stan, is there trouble?" Lin Yu'an asked bluntly. He knew that Stan wouldn't have come over in the freezing cold at this time unless it was something urgent.

Stan stepped into the warm cabin, took off his hat, brushed the snow off his clothes, took the hot coffee Lin Yu'an handed him, and drank it all in one gulp. His face bore the seriousness characteristic of a hunter, and his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's.

"Lin, the sun will be back soon," he said in a deep voice; this was no ordinary greeting.

“This is good news for us. But for the wolves that have been starving all winter, it means their good days are coming to an end.” Stan slammed his empty coffee cup down on the table.

He took something wrapped in oilcloth from his pocket, opened it, and inside was a tuft of grayish-black, slightly coarse hair, with a faint smell of blood.

“It was found in the snow in Billy’s backyard.” Stan’s expression turned serious. “The Billy family’s blizzard, their strongest sled dog, went missing the night before last.”

“This morning, Billy and I followed the tracks to the edge of the woods, and all that was left was this, along with some bone fragments that had been gnawed clean.”

Arya and Emily looked somewhat frightened upon hearing this.

"The long night is their best cover; they have become accustomed to approaching the town in the dark."

"Now, dawn is approaching, and the darkness of each day is shortening. For these starving beasts, this is their last chance to use the cover of night for a frenzied hunt! They will become bolder and more dangerous than ever before."

"They want to stock up on as much food as possible before the daytime fully returns and human activity increases. Their tracks have already been found around the town, and judging from the footprints, there are at least five or six adult North American gray wolves."

Stan's eyes gleamed with the cold light of a hunter. "We must seize this opportunity, when they are at their most active and daring, and strike them hard!"

“They need to remember that Wiesman is not their canteen. Otherwise, once spring arrives and they get a taste of the benefits, they will become more difficult to deal with and may even threaten children who go out alone.”

This is the true face of Alaska. It not only boasts magnificent scenery, but also the most primitive and brutal laws of survival.

Lin Yu'an's expression also turned serious. He completely understood Stan's logic. This was like a battle for a window of opportunity.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked directly.

Stan looked at him, a hint of approval in his eyes: "I need you, Lin. You're the best tracker here, and the most accurate shot. Our operation tomorrow will be much more successful if you're there."

He paused, then asked hesitantly, "But...you've been so busy lately. I heard from Hank that you signed a big...what contract? If you can't get away, that's okay, we can..."

Lin Yu'an raised his hand to interrupt him.

He looked at his respectable old friend and said calmly, "Stan, protecting our home is the responsibility of every man here. So, let me know when it's time to leave."

Looking into Lin Yu'an's deep and confident eyes, Stan could feel the powerful aura of a top hunter who controlled everything.

“Okay! I’ll come find you at 7 a.m. tomorrow.” Stan nodded heavily, all his worries turning into trust.

After saying that, he put on his hat, turned around, and walked into the snowstorm outside. The roar of the snowmobile started again and quickly disappeared into the distance.

Lin Yu'an stood at the door, watching him leave until the light was completely swallowed by darkness.

He returned to his study, closed his eyes, and pondered. He had two wars to fight: one in the virtual digital world, where he would use billions of dollars to hunt down the greed of Wall Street.

In another scene, in this real world of ice and snow, they use their hunting rifles to protect the peace of their homes.

Emily, carrying a steaming cup of coffee, tiptoed into the study. "Darling, Arya and I have picked out a few farms. Would you like to come and take a look?"

She immediately sensed something unusual. The study was dark, with only the cold, bluish light from the laptop screen illuminating Lin Yu'an's face and outlining his sharply defined profile.

He sat ramrod straight, like a statue poised to strike, motionless. He seemed not to hear her question.

But the air around him seemed to become thick and tense, filled with the oppressive atmosphere before a storm, because of some invisible aura emanating from him.

Emily slowed her pace, even her breathing unconsciously becoming lighter. She noticed that Lin Yu'an wasn't looking at those complex flight theories, nor was he analyzing candlestick charts.

He was simply staring at an extremely minimalist social media interface—Twitter.

On the screen, a tweet that had been posted less than ten minutes earlier was like a nuclear bomb dropped into a calm lake, unleashing a digital tsunami.

Its number of reposts and likes skyrocketed at a terrifying rate of thousands per second; with each refresh, the number would jump up wildly.

Emily's gaze fell on the tweet.

Posted by: Elon Musk.

The content consisted of only one word and one link: "Gamestonk!!"

She could understand the name of the person who posted it, and the power that name represented—power that could shake the world.

At that moment, Lin Yu'an, who had been motionless, finally made a move.

He let out a long sigh of relief, as if releasing the pent-up frustration of more than twenty days of waiting and all the pent-up emotions.

Lin Yu'an subconsciously spoke in her native language: "The butterfly effect... it really did come. Only, it arrived a full three days earlier than I remembered!"

Lin Yu'an didn't look at the green candlestick chart on the computer screen anymore, which was rising vertically like an electrocardiogram. He knew that the final euphoria had begun.

Countless greed and dreams will be ignited to their peak at this moment, while the guillotine, honed by regulators and Wall Street giants, has quietly risen.

He turned to the side and looked at Emily, who had been standing quietly at the door.

At that moment, their eyes met. Emily felt that she was no longer seeing her gentle and considerate husband. His eyes were sharp as an eagle, deep as the sea, and beneath his calm surface lay absolute confidence in controlling everything!
A slow, gentle smile curved Lin Yu'an's lips. There was not a trace of nervousness in that smile, only an overwhelming sense of excitement and composure.

“Darling,” he smiled gently at her, his voice soft, “I might have lunch a little later. After lunch, we can go take a look at the farm together. The farm you’ve chosen might significantly increase your budget.”

"The war is about to begin."

Without hesitation, he picked up the encrypted satellite phone he always kept by his side and dialed the first number.

Los Angeles, CAA headquarters, top-floor conference room.

The skyscrapers outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows reflect a metallic sheen in the sunlight, forming a steel jungle in this city of desire.

Inside the meeting room, however, the atmosphere was serious and tense. Around the long conference table sat a dozen or so core executives from CAA's music division; each one a powerful figure in the glamorous world of Hollywood. Scout Braun stood before a huge screen, outlining CAA's strategic plan for the global music market in the coming year. Dressed in a well-tailored Italian bespoke suit, he was radiant and clearly articulated the company's vision.

His voice was confident and powerful, full of a sense of control over the future.

Just as he was explaining the key points of an important collaboration with Universal Music Group, his personal phone, which he never left behind, suddenly started vibrating violently.

All the executives in the conference room instinctively turned their gazes toward him.

Scout frowned slightly, a hint of displeasure flashing through his mind. He didn't know many people with this number, but everyone who did should understand what it meant to disturb him at this time.

He calmly took out his phone and glanced at the simple name "Lin" on the caller ID.

In an instant, Scout's pupils contracted sharply.

All his displeasure was replaced in a fraction of a second by a feeling that was a mixture of extreme excitement and unease.

"Excuse me, everyone." He raised his hand to the group of executives in the conference room, his expression unchanged, but his tone was unquestionable, carrying a natural authority, "The meeting is paused for a moment, I have to take this call."

Without offering any further explanation, he strode out of the conference room and stood before the empty floor-to-ceiling window. Using his broad frame to block the view from the conference room, he took a deep breath before pressing the answer button.

His voice was extremely low, as if he were conducting a secret deal concerning life and death.

"Hello?"

On the other end of the phone, only a cold and brief word came through, yet it seemed to strike his heart with immense force.

"retreat."

“Now?” Scout’s voice rose slightly for a moment, then he immediately covered the microphone with his hand, turned his back to the conference room, lowered his voice, and said urgently in a breathy voice, “But the stock price is still skyrocketing!”

"Lin, my trading software shows it just broke through $150! The whole market is going crazy! All the buying is pouring in, and there are almost no selling orders! Retreating now? That's like throwing away the biggest piece of the pie that's about to be in our hands!"

His voice was filled with the instinctive greed and hesitation of a gambler witnessing their chips multiply wildly. All his experience and reason told him that now was the time to fight to the bitter end!

However, the voice on the other end of the phone was like a Siberian cold front, instantly freezing all his wishful thinking.

"Scooter, have you forgotten our original agreement?"

Lin Yu'an's voice was calm and unhurried, yet carried a coldness: "What you see is the jubilation on the candlestick chart, the triumphant shouts of countless retail investors."

"What I saw was an emergency liquidity meeting in the back office of Robin Hood and Interactive Brokers, and calls for help from Wall Street giants to Capitol Hill."

Scout's heart stopped abruptly.

"The party's over, Scout. Those left here are just pigs waiting to be slaughtered. Do you want to be one of them?"

These words were like ice water poured over Scout's head, instantly sobering him up.

"What...what should I do?" He gave up all struggle, his voice filled with absolute obedience.

"Immediately, clear out all stock. Ignore the price, use market orders, sell at any cost!"

"I understand!"

After he finished speaking, the phone was immediately disconnected, leaving only a cold busy tone.

Scout, gripping the scalding phone, dared not hesitate any longer. He turned and returned to the conference room, facing the scrutinizing eyes, and said in an unquestionable tone, "The meeting is suspended for ten minutes! Everyone stay here and wait for me to return!"

Then, without looking back, he practically jogged towards his office, leaving the entire conference room filled with bewildered executives.

They guessed that something huge must have happened.

A private ski resort in the Swiss Alps, not open to the public.

The sky was a near-transparent azure, so pure it contained not a single impurity. Sunlight streamed unhindered onto the boundless snow slopes, making every snowflake sparkle like a diamond.

A black figure, like a precise bolt of lightning, glided down a highway covered in powder snow. His movements were fluid and powerful, and with each turn, the snow spray he kicked up drew perfect arcs in the sunlight.

At the end of the ski slope, beside the cable car station, a man dressed in equally professional but more understated ski attire, wearing a headset, waited respectfully like a statue. He was David, Brian Lord's chief assistant.

With a graceful screech of brakes, Brian Lord came to a smooth stop in front of David. He removed his helmet and snow goggles, revealing a face sculpted by the sun and cold wind, his breathing steady, showing no sign of fatigue from the strenuous activity.

For him, conquering this level of ski slope was as easy as taking a walk in his own backyard.

“Sir.” David immediately stepped forward and handed over a cup of hot drink at just the right temperature.

Brian took the hot drink, and just then, David handed him a specially made, equally encrypted satellite phone.

“Mr. Lord,” David’s voice was calm and even, as if he were reporting the weather, “it’s Mr. Lin on the phone.”

A barely perceptible smile appeared on Brian's lips.

He took the phone, not even bothering to avoid David, and simply hummed in response into the receiver. He knew Lin Yu'an would call, and he knew what he would say. This call was merely a ceremonial confirmation.

"Signal has appeared, let's close the net." Lin Yu'an's familiar and calm voice came through.

“Understood.” Brian’s reply, like his expression, was calm and unwavering, as if confirming a trivial matter that had long been on his agenda.

He hung up the phone, handed it back to his assistant, and then leisurely took a sip of his hot drink, his gaze fixed on the majestic snow-capped mountain covered by glaciers in the distance.

In his retina, the outline of the snow-capped mountain seemed to eerily overlap with the wildly rising bullish candlestick on the distant Wall Street chart.

David waited quietly for instructions, knowing that the real decision-making process was just beginning.

“Notify Group Nine,” Brian finally spoke, his voice exceptionally clear against the crisp air, “Activate the harvest protocol. Tell him not to rush to sell.”

David was slightly taken aback.

"Let the retail investors' victory fly a little longer. When market sentiment reaches its most frenzied and liquidity is at its peak, we will use our financial advantage to liquidate our positions in batches at multiple price levels."

Brian's eyes gleamed with a cold, calculating light. "What we want is not a good price, but the safest and most profitable exit without causing a market crash."

“Yes, sir.” David immediately began to transmit this more detailed instruction through his headset to the trading team on the other side of Switzerland.

Brian put on his snow goggles, and his assistant immediately stepped forward to re-fasten the bindings on his skis. "Also, notify the CAA legal department that you can begin drafting the donation contract for that aircraft."

"The model will be the de Havilland Beaver DHC-2, brand new, with turbocharger upgrades and the most advanced avionics system. Have Gulfstream's interior design team customize the most comfortable cockpit for him."

David was surprised again; the value of the plane far exceeded Lin Yu'an's demands.

Brian's voice came from behind the goggles, tinged with amusement, "Tell the legal department that the donor on the contract should not be CAA, but my personal name."

Having said that, he offered no further explanation, leaned slightly forward, and once again slid into that boundless expanse of white snow.

David stood there, watching his boss's figure disappear into the snowstorm, his heart filled with turmoil.

(End of this chapter)