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

Chapter 297 You want to harm Mr. Livingston? You'll die first!
Also on Friday morning, a group of uninvited guests arrived at Reading Securities' New York branch.

As the front desk manager, Bernard Baruch sat behind the counter and saw three gentlemen in top hats walk in with serious expressions.

“I’m looking for your sales manager. I work for the head office,” the first person said, handing Baruch his work ID.

Baruch politely accepted the document and looked at it; it really was someone from headquarters.

“Welcome, three colleagues. Please come in. The manager is in his office,” Baruch said with a smile.

The three men walked silently into the office area one by one. Baruch suddenly noticed that the man at the very back had a bandage on his nose and his face was covered in purplish-black bruises, as if he had just been beaten up.

The three men knocked and entered the office. The sales manager looked surprised when he saw them.

Bernard Baruch peered out curiously, but the office door was then closed.

Baruch turned away to attend to his own business, despite the strange expressions and preoccupied looks on the three men's faces. He didn't take it to heart, after all, it had nothing to do with him.

However, things changed ten minutes later.

"Bernard, come in here!" The sales manager opened the door and called out to him loudly.

Baruch hurriedly entered the general manager's office and saw the general manager standing by his desk with his hands folded in front of his chest and a very solemn expression.

The three guests sitting on the opposite sofa all had calm expressions.

"What brings you here, sir?" Baruch asked the general manager with a smile.

The general manager hesitated for a moment before saying, "Do we have a client... named Larry Livingston? I'm talking about a major client..."

"Yes, sir." Baruch raised an eyebrow, wondering why the general manager had thought of this person.

The general manager nodded and turned to look at the person sitting upright on the sofa, the one who had previously said he was a colleague from head office.

"Mr. Bush said that this client had significant investment risks and that it was necessary to immediately remove all of his leverage and liquidate his accounts."

Bernard Baruch paused, glanced at the person sitting on the sofa, thought for a few seconds, and then calmly said, "Mr. General Manager, this client has always been very fair and efficient, and has generated a lot of commission revenue for us... I don't see any risk in this person's account?"

As he spoke, Baruch turned to look at his colleague; the rest of his words were directed at him.

"Mr. Livingston is a very important client of ours. His value goes far beyond his trading volume because he is a truly high-quality client who can make money through trading. If you try to liquidate his account based solely on rumors—we will not only be sued by his lawyers, but we will also permanently offend him."

The colleague from headquarters smiled, a disdainful smirk on his face, and slowly said, "Oh, you know, huh? Do you know where this guy got his money? Can you vouch for his so-called quality?"

"I can!" Baruch's answer was simple and firm.

"This is fucking ridiculous..." The injured man suddenly laughed, saying sarcastically, "What do you know about him? Are you a tapeworm in his stomach? A premium customer, my foot!"

“Sir, I don’t know who you are, but please show some respect!” Baruch turned his gaze to the man, his tone unfriendly.

The air in the room suddenly froze, and the three people sitting on the sofa suddenly felt an unsettling solemn atmosphere emerge from Baruch's cold gaze.

The man with the injury on his face opened his mouth slightly, hesitated for a moment, and continued, "Am I wrong? He's not your New York client, so how can you vouch for his qualifications?"

“Tell me your name and position. Unless you are a manager in this company, I will not answer your questions.” Baruch maintained his serious tone and calm gaze as he met the man’s gaze.

Seeing the tension between the two, the person from head office stepped in, "Are you the front desk manager? I need to explain, Livingston is a very high-risk client. We've heard many rumors that he's a fraudster who cheats in the stock market..."

He frequently uses his stocks for illegal activities. Therefore, we plan to require him to deposit the full amount as margin; you could consider it a standard risk management measure.

“This client is almost fully leveraged right now! If you remove his leverage, he’ll be liquidated!” Baruch roared.

The person at head office shrugged. "Who told him not to use a small position? We canceled his leverage, but he can still make up the margin call!"

"Where are we supposed to find this client? And make him pay more margin? I'll say it again, doing this will cause him to lose all his money."

"Well, there's no other way; we have to be careful about risk control..."

Bernard Baruch frowned. He turned to his branch manager and earnestly advised, "Sir, Livingston is one of our branch's most valued clients. And I don't know where he is. If you let him lose everything, he'll have his lawyers sue you!"

The general manager, who had already crossed his arms and looked resistant, frowned deeply upon hearing Baruch's words. "Mr. Bush, as my front desk manager said, this is a valuable client. If anything goes wrong, I must report your dereliction of duty to the president."

Bush hesitated for a moment, then turned to look at the injured man, his eyes seeming to ask, "Do we really have to do this?"

The guy with the injury on his face suddenly raised his voice, "Hurry up! What the hell are you hesitating for? Didn't we already agree on this?"

Bush, somewhat helpless, turned to the general manager of the business department and said, "On behalf of the headquarters risk control department, please do as I say right now!"

The general manager of the sales department blushed and paled in turns. Theoretically, the other party did have this authority, but he did not intend to obediently give in.

After thinking for a few seconds, the branch manager took a contract from his desk and placed it in front of the person at headquarters.

“Mr. Bush, this is a disclaimer. I can ask the client to pay the full deposit as you have suggested, but if the client sues, you will be responsible for all legal consequences.”

Bush glanced at the disclaimer; clearly, the branch manager was prepared for this kind of incident. He hesitated, then looked again at the injured man beside him.

“Hey Quincy. Are you sure? If I sign this statement and they find no problems after checking, they will sue us in court.”

Quincy, with his injured face, snorted, "If he goes bankrupt, he won't have a single penny left. How will he sue us then?"

Bush hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said to the general manager, "I'm sure he's involved in something wrong. Freeze all his shares now!"

As he spoke, Bush took the disclaimer and pen and wrote his name on it.

Quincy stood up impatiently, a smile spreading across his face. "If I remember correctly, the brokerage should have notified him to increase the margin today, otherwise they would have liquidated all these stocks, right?"

“…Yes,” the branch manager looked at the other man, “if Mr. Bush requires us to do this immediately, then Mr. Livingston will only have one trading day left to replenish his margin…”

"Then hurry up! Hurry up, Bush, get up and announce your decision. I want to see how he can raise so much bail in one day... Haha, so happy." Quincy's face was full of smiles.

At this moment, Baruch also took a half step forward, his face cold and ashen. He first looked at his general manager, then at Mr. Bush, the headquarters risk control specialist whose face was full of hesitation, and finally focused his gaze on Quincy's face. "I understand! This is a trap. You want to destroy him... If we raise his margin and he can't add margin in time, all his stocks will be sold to realize cash... Do you really want to do this?"

“Don’t put it so harshly…” Quincy’s face was full of mockery. “Who would want him to die? He’s just paying the price for his recklessness.”

Bernard Baruch frowned at him, said nothing more, then turned back to his general manager. "General Manager, on the advice of a loyal colleague, please don't let them do that. Otherwise, you'll regret it..."

He turned to Bush at headquarters and continued, "You'll regret this!"

The general manager hesitated for a moment, then exchanged a few glances with Mr. Bush from headquarters, and both fell silent.

Ultimately, however, the general manager relented, saying, "These are all decisions made by headquarters; what can I do?"

"Hurry up! Remove all leverage and notify him to deposit margin... If he cannot deposit margin, or if we cannot notify him, for the sake of the company's funds, you must liquidate all his positions by this afternoon," Mr. Bush said coldly.

"Fine!" Baruch's face showed a cold smile, not anger, but rather a calm demeanor.
"Then I will proceed with the proper procedures to revoke account access and create a record. At this moment, I will be representing my clients in transactions with you… Let me repeat, you will regret this!"

Quincy, standing to the side, shouted, "What's there to regret? Hurry up and get back to your senses!"

……

Over the next 40 minutes, Bernard Baruch will represent his client, his branch manager, and the risk control expert from headquarters to conduct the account downgrade and settlement.

Under the securities trading system at that time, the headquarters of securities companies did indeed have the authority to temporarily increase risk control requirements, which would also affect customers' accounts.

But as Baruch said, this is a terrible move that will alienate customers to the core. If their risk control reasons don't hold water, customers can hire lawyers to sue the securities firm.

The securities company or related responsible persons may have to pay ten times the amount in compensation...

However, Bernard Baruch knew in his heart that things would never get to that level... Mr. Livingston would certainly keep his shares, and they would not succeed.

In short, they will definitely regret it!
At this point, Bush was still making a routine announcement on behalf of the headquarters' risk control department.

"...Bernard Baruch, since our client Larry Livingston is not present, you, as his account manager, need to have him sign off on our increased risk notification being delivered... Do you understand?"

“Understood! And I have no way to contact the client right now. You can proceed with the procedure.” Baruch said coldly.

“Okay, I announce… the Larry Livingston account is now de-leveraged, and the other party needs to deposit the full margin, totaling $79.35. Mr. Baruch, you may inform the client of this notice.” Bush went through the motions of a routine procedure.

This is an extremely unfair trial in absentia!
Bernard Baruch knew what was going on, but seeing the cold smiles on their faces, he simply followed the script and acted accordingly.

“Sir, you are very meticulous and from headquarters. I am currently unable to contact the client. Congratulations, you can do whatever you want now,” Baruch said calmly.

Bush's facial muscles twitched, and he announced like a judge, "Now, I formally declare that the client needs to pay the full margin, totaling $571,500, effective immediately! If the client fails to pay the full margin before the market closes, we will sell all of his shares..."

At this point, Bush glanced at the records and added, "...a total of 24 shares of American Tobacco Company stock."

After making the announcement, Bush signed the notification, which meant that the legal document was officially effective.

“Okay!” Baruch accepted the notice on behalf of the client, his face a mixture of disdain and a smile. “As you wish, let’s wait for the market to close and see if Mr. Livingston can pay his margin on time.”

At this point, Quincy interjected, "It's not 3 p.m., it's 2:50 p.m. There has to be time to sell the shares, unless... you're willing to sell me those 24 shares. Otherwise, you can't possibly dump so many shares in ten minutes... Of course, I'd be happy if you sold them to me."

Baruch glared at him coldly but didn't say anything.
.
Time passed slowly, and everyone sat quietly in the general manager's office, waiting for 3 p.m. to arrive.

Among them, Mr. Keane's trader Quincy was the most anxious. He was thinking that as long as it reached 3 o'clock, he could bankrupt the other party—because Mr. Keane had finally managed to drive the stock price of American Tobacco down to around $1.2...

If Reading ultimately sells all of Livingston's stock at this price, not only will it bankrupt the guy, but Reading itself can also buy at the bottom. Because they also have traders on the floor...

After all, he had lost a lot of money on General Electric before. If he could get these 24 shares of Larry Livingston, he would be able to recover his losses.

Now, Quincy's only worry is that Larry Livingston might suddenly appear and make up for his margin call.

Then all of Mr. Keane's plans failed... American Tobacco's performance had improved so much that it was impossible to keep its stock price at such a low level for long.

So, that guy absolutely mustn't arrive in time!
Quincy almost wanted to kneel down and pray to God!
With a mix of trepidation and unwavering confidence, Kunxi finally waited until 2:50 PM...

There wasn't a soul in sight outside the office.

“Great! That brat didn’t come. Now, Mr. Front Desk Manager, hurry up and sell all his stocks… If it’s not convenient for you to place an order, you can sell them to me. I’m not kidding, I’m serious!” Quincy grinned.

During this time, Bernard Baruch did not leave the house; he simply sat quietly in his office chair...

But after Quincy finished speaking, a smile appeared on his face...

“I’m sorry! Mr. Larry Livingston has already paid his full deposit.” Baruch smiled at Quincy. “Not only will you not be able to take his 24 shares, but you and Mr. Bush will also have to wait for Mr. Livingston’s lawyer’s letter.”

“Impossible! Absolutely impossible!” Quincy jumped to his feet. “I’ve been waiting here, and I haven’t seen him! He couldn’t possibly have paid back all his bail! That’s a whopping $60!”

“Impossible?” Bernard Baruch stood up, took a document from the safe in the general manager’s office, and tossed it to Quincy.

"Look, this is a $120 million bank draft from the National City Bank of New York, which Mr. Livingston left here long ago! He knew someone was trying to cheat him. Now, gentlemen, not only have you not gotten a penny, but you'll also have to wait to compensate him for his losses!"

Mr. Bush turned green with rage. All his hopes, as Quincy had said, lay in bringing Larry into bankruptcy so that he wouldn't be able to sue himself...

But who knew that the client had actually prepared for today's events? They even left behind a bank draft worth 120 million?
How could this be! How could he do such a thing?

Bush quickly grabbed the document and examined it closely—it was indeed a bank draft for $120 million, and it was definitely from the National City Bank of New York…

"It's over! Everything's over! I'll lose my life. Damn it, it's all that devil Quincy's fault!"

Bush glared angrily at Quincy, only to see Quincy's face ashen, his jaw clenched and teeth clenched.

My teeth are practically ground to dust!

(End of this chapter)