Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 233 Danger? No danger?
The telephone receiver was pressed against my ear, emitting a buzzing, hollow sound, like some kind of unsettling background noise.

Larry's fingers unconsciously twirled the rough telephone cord as he looked out the window; the New York sky still looked bright.

A few short clicks came through the receiver, followed by a slightly tired but still composed voice, with that tone unique to an old family, a perfect blend of politeness and aloofness: "I am Astor."

“John,” Larry said, inspired by Henry Goldman, skipping the pleasantries as if their relationship was so close that formalities were unnecessary, “It’s me, Larry. Listen, there’s something you need to know.”

Larry presented the events that had just occurred in the stock market as concisely as possible, stripping away all emotional speculation and leaving only the cold, hard facts.

The market's short selling was unusually precise, with several stocks associated with Astor Industries being targeted. Moreover, this was not the first time this had happened; at the same time last Saturday, the day he was assassinated, these stocks also experienced a concentrated decline.

The other end of the phone remained silent, and this silence seemed to urge Larry to continue.

In conclusion, Larry stated his own conclusion—someone was placing a heavy bet on a major catastrophe targeting his business empire.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by the very faint, velvety friction sound of a cigar being inhaled.

After a long while, King Astor IV's voice came through the microphone.

“Mr. Livingston… I think what you say makes sense. In fact, I’ve already increased security at the manor these past few days. I’ve even borrowed many officers from the NYPD to carry out the protection duties. This shouldn’t happen again, right?” he said, his tone carrying a reassuring tone that left Larry feeling powerless.
“I am very grateful for your… vigilance. Really. It proves that I made the right choice to work with you; you have an eye for detail.”

Larry frowned, sensing Astor IV's skepticism. However, Larry reconsidered and thought that if a top billionaire was well-prepared for defense, the chances of an assassin succeeding in his mission wouldn't be much higher than breaking into the White House to assassinate the president.

Am I worrying too much?

There was another soft breath on the other end of the phone. King Astor IV said reassuringly, "But please rest assured. I won't ignore your kind advice. As for the market fluctuations you mentioned?"

He smiled casually. "It's not surprising that greedy sharks swim around Wall Street every day, trying to sniff out a bit of blood from the waves. They may just have caught a whiff of what they perceive as an opportunity."

Larry gripped the receiver tightly, his knuckles turning white. He wanted to argue, to point out that the decisiveness and precision of that sell-off were far from ordinary speculation.

Larry also wanted to ask him—couldn't he see that the spear was aimed precisely at him?

However, Larry thought again and realized that the other person might not really be able to feel it, because it was just based on his own sensitivity and intuition about the stock market, how could others possibly empathize?
Just as a person with rheumatism can sense an impending downpour through joint pain, an ordinary person will only look at the sky they are most familiar with.

Larry thought for a moment, then softened his tone and instructed, "Okay, then be careful. And at least keep a secretary by the phone; I might need to contact you again."

King Astor IV stated gently and confidently, “My security team is one of the most professional in the country. They have assessed all the risks. And I myself…”

He paused, his voice revealing an almost arrogant confidence, "I believe that in this country, no one has been able or dared to impose the kind of script you're imagining on me. The price would be far beyond anyone's imagination."

These words acted like a soft yet solid wall, blocking all of Larry's worries.

The opponent's logic was impeccable: a person inside a fortress would naturally find it hard to believe that an assassin was already at the door. Moreover, he was Astor, and his name itself was a kind of talisman.

Larry thought to himself, "You almost became Christmas roast turkey at the same time last week, what are you pretending for?"

However, Larry is now almost convinced that someone could possibly harm King Astor IV under such tight security.

“I understand,” Larry finally said, his voice much clearer. “Perhaps I was overthinking it.” “It is caution, my dear friend, precious caution,” Astor IV’s tone lightened again. “Keep it! By the way, I received an invitation from Mr. Saul Porter to a cocktail party for a new fund. I’m very interested; I’ve been looking to make some investments.”

"Oh? He sent you an invitation too?"

"Of course, my family's stock accounts, as well as my personal ones, are all with Paine Weber Securities... Mr. Porter told me this himself. Actually, it's you who's been working hard for this fund company!"

Larry exchanged a few more words with the other party about the details of the dinner, and then the call ended in an atmosphere that seemed harmonious but was actually tense.

The receiver was put back into the fork spring with a crisp "click." The room fell silent, broken only by the faint noise of the city outside the window.

Larry stood there, motionless for a long time.

King Astor IV's composure and confidence were not without reason.

His words did have an effect; Larry is now genuinely considering something—perhaps he was overthinking it?
Perhaps it was just a crazy, coincidental resonance in the market?

Astor's safety was the most powerful counter-evidence. A feeling of relief, almost like the receding tide, slowly washed over me.

Maybe, nothing really happens.

Larry tried to convince himself.

But then, another sharper, colder sensation, like a needle hidden under a wool blanket, pierced through this brief respite.

It's a logical discomfort.

Larry walked to the window and looked at the bustling streets filled with carriages and crowds. Everything seemed orderly and prosperous.

But he knew that beneath this prosperity, two forces were vying for power in an extremely bizarre way: one was the static confidence he had just heard on the phone, based on traditional power and personal protection; the other was the dynamic killing intent he was plotting on the market price board, based on financial logic and cold-blooded calculations.

Henry Goldman watched Larry finish his call, then cautiously took a few steps forward and carefully asked Larry beside him,
"Mr. Livingston...nothing terrible is going to happen, is it?"

Larry looked at him, a self-deprecating smile on his face, and said, "Just call me by my name, since I've already called you Henry."

“Okay, Larry.” Goldman’s face also showed a relaxed expression.

Larry stood there for a moment, thinking to himself that since he had already informed King Astor IV, what happened next was up to fate.

In the afternoon, as planned, I still needed to go to Mr. Morgan's place to explain the new custody business of the fund and the specific ideas for acquiring Bausch & Lomb.

However, before that...

“Henry!” Larry turned to Henry Goldman and said, “Let’s go to the trading floor and look at today’s market. I want to see if I’m overthinking it or if there’s something wrong with the market itself.”

(End of this chapter)