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

Chapter 306 Hello, Mr. Prometheus

Henry Ford's words startled Larry.

The unassuming, overweight man in front of me is actually the great inventor Thomas Edison?
This is truly unexpected!
Despite the many criticisms leveled against this eccentric and arrogant inventor by later generations, Edison truly had the right to be arrogant! He had over 1000 inventions in his lifetime and was a pioneer in many industries.

Inventions like the light bulb and the phonograph are well-known and need no further explanation.

In fact, Edison also invented half of the telephone.

Before Edison invented the carbon transmitter, the telephone was extremely impractical. Edison licensed his invention to Western Union, which in turn sold the patent to Bell, thus perfecting the telephone. As a result, for many years, both Bell's and Edison's names were listed on telephone equipment.

In Edison's words: Bell invented the telephone receiver, but he invented the microphone!
Furthermore, the mimeograph machine, fluorescent glasses, alkaline batteries, dictation recorders, and movie cameras... all these things were invented by Edison! Therefore, without Edison, there would be no record industry or movies.

In addition, Edison made special contributions to mining, storage batteries, and cement concrete.

Although, based on Larry's previous experiences, Edison may seem like a villain.

But to be fair, this American inventor, who is only 45 years old, is absolutely great!
Now, facing Edison, Larry thought for a moment, then stepped forward and extended his hand to Edison, his face full of excitement, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prometheus!"

Upon hearing this title, Edison was a little confused and didn't know how to respond for a moment.

Henry Ford quickly corrected him, "Not Prometheus, but Edison! Thomas Edison."

“Yes! I know it’s Edison!” Larry feigned surprise as he looked at Ford, then turned to Edison and said, “You are the second person to bring light to mankind. You truly deserve the title of Prometheus!”

Henry Ford then realized that Larry was silently flattering Edison, and couldn't help but secretly give Larry the middle finger in his mind.

Edison paused slightly, understanding Larry's meaning. He didn't react much, but the coldness on his face when he reprimanded Ford had gradually faded.

"Hello! Are you Henry's friend?" Edison extended his hand and shook hands with Larry.

“Yes, we are very good friends,” Larry said with a smile.

Edison suddenly frowned, gently shook off Larry's hand, and said in a disgusted tone,

“Oh, no need to say more! You must be the one who lured Henry Ford away! He was one of my best engineers, but after spending a month in Boston, he suddenly resigned. He said a friend invited him to work on a great invention called the automobile.”

As Edison spoke, he turned to look at Henry Ford.

Before this great inventor, Ford, who was still very young and had no authority, lowered his head slightly, not daring to meet Edison's gaze.

Although Larry had been given the cold shoulder, he wasn't angry at all. He smiled and said to Edison,
“Sir, Henry and I were talking about you last night. As you can see, his car isn’t very advanced. When we were driving at night, we couldn’t see anything on the road at all… Henry said then that your incandescent bulb was a great invention! We must install incandescent bulbs in the front of the car as headlights so that we can illuminate the unknown road ahead.”

Edison's cold gaze softened again. He walked around to the front of the car, looked at the acetylene lamp that was being used as a makeshift headlight, and a mocking smile appeared on his face.
"Hey, Mr. Ford, are you really going to use this thing that could explode at any moment to light up your car?"

Henry Ford's face flushed slightly. He looked at his former boss and raised his voice a little.
“Mr. Edison, this is a temporary measure… but as you know, the internal combustion engine of a car cannot currently provide electricity, and naturally, your incandescent light bulb cannot be used!”

"Of course, that's why I'm telling you, electric cars are the future!" Edison said arrogantly.

"We can use lead-acid batteries..." Ford weakly argued.

Edison frowned, raised his voice as if reprimanding an employee, and said, "Lead-acid batteries?! My God, do you know how heavy these things are? They are absolutely unsuitable as a power source for electric vehicles. If you want to power a 200-pound car, the lead-acid batteries themselves would weigh 500 pounds!"

"No, I wasn't talking about electric cars..." Ford quickly protested.

"What I'm saying is, if you use your incandescent bulbs as headlights in a car, then I can use lead-acid batteries to power them!"

Edison listened without saying a word, but instead looked down at the acetylene lamp in front of the car. Clearly, his inventor's mind had instantly switched to problem-solving mode.

Larry grinned. He might not be able to speak for everything else, but when it came to arousing interest, or rather, manipulating people's hearts, he was a master!
Larry stepped forward and, feigning reluctance, said to Edison,

"Sir, I don't think it's as simple as Henry thinks. While the incandescent light bulb is a great invention, car headlights are for illuminating the road, and they are far more effective than indoor incandescent bulbs..."

Edison opened his mouth to refute, but after thinking for a moment, he shut his mouth.

Clearly, he thought so too.

Larry continued to frown, feigning difficulty, "That's only one aspect! When a car is driving, the road surface is very bumpy, and the filament is very easy to break. I think the most important performance of car lights is not brightness, but shock resistance and impact protection. This requires improving the filament material or the structure of the bulb."

Edison kept his eyes on the car and nodded almost imperceptibly.

Larry continued, “Henry just said that car lights need a stable power source, and lead-acid batteries will do, mainly because they are very cheap. But as you just said, if it is an electric vehicle, it needs a new type of battery with a higher energy density to power it.”

“Yes, that’s it!” Edison looked up at Larry and said with certainty, “I’m currently researching a new type of battery that will have a much higher energy storage capacity than those terrible lead-acid batteries… Hmph, to power a tram, we’ll need a new type of battery!”

Larry laughed. He actually knew that alkaline batteries were a later invention of Edison. However, these things required expensive nickel, hence the name nickel-iron batteries.

While alkaline batteries did increase energy density, they were too expensive! And they were far from achieving the high energy storage efficiency of later lithium batteries, making them a pipe dream for electric vehicles.

Inventing a practical electric car ahead of time is not something that can be accomplished in this era.

Larry didn't intend to share these ideas with Edison; he just wanted to flatter and entice the great inventor to follow his lead!
"You're absolutely right, Mr. Edison!" Larry's face lit up with a delighted smile.

"I believe that in the future, there will inevitably be a major battle between internal combustion engine vehicles and electric vehicles, focusing on efficiency and range! Whichever of these two types of vehicles wins the future and reaches every household will inevitably change the times! Of course, both types of vehicles need headlights... because illuminating the unknown road ahead is essential."

Edison turned his gaze away from the car, straightened his posture, and gave Larry a cold look. "Henry's friend, don't even think about using reverse psychology to force me to do anything... That won't work on me. You know I've already left my company..."

At this point, Edison suddenly remembered something sad: the Edison Electric Light Company, which he had founded with his own hands, had kicked him aside!
Thinking of this, Edison's facial muscles twitched, and he suddenly felt a pang of sadness, but he suppressed his emotions and continued speaking.
"No one knows more about electric lights than me! But why would I invent car lights for something as impractical as a car? Don't even think about it."

As he spoke, Edison walked to his assistant, took the cane and top hat the assistant had been holding for him, and after dressing, he glanced at Larry and Henry Ford, and said to Ford in an arrogant tone,

"Henry, give up on this unrealistic idea of ​​yours as soon as possible! This terrible invention can't possibly compare to an electric car! Come find me when you've figured it out; you're still welcome. I'm starting a new company in a while, and my engineering position will always be reserved for you!"

As he spoke, Edison raised his hat toward Ford as a farewell gesture.

“Sir! Could you please leave me your contact information? I have a lot of questions about inventions and would like to ask you for advice,” Larry said sincerely.

"I'm afraid I don't have the time!" Edison's face was indifferent, but after saying this, he hesitated for a moment before asking, "I didn't ask your name earlier, what's your name?"

“Larry Livingston!” Larry replied. “Well, goodbye, Mr. Livingston.” With that, Edison nodded his hat to him, turned, and walked away. His two assistants quickly followed him.

Larry watched Edison's retreating figure, a smile still playing on his lips.

Ford frowned and took two steps forward, sighing, "It's a pity you didn't convince him! If anyone could truly solve the car lights problem, I think he was the only one at the time."

"No! I've already convinced him."

Larry turned to Ford, a smile on his face. “For this great inventor, an idea is like a seed. Once planted, it will naturally sprout and bear fruit! Edison will keep thinking about that, my Mr. Ford. No need to rush, sooner or later he will contact us and tell us what his ideas are about car lights.”

Henry Ford raised an eyebrow. "Is that really so?" Clearly, Ford didn't believe it.

"Want to make a bet?" Larry laughed.

Ford shook his head at Larry; he wouldn't dare bet with Larry—the other was simply too devilish!

Finally, Ford remained in the driver's seat with the steering wheel in hand, Larry sat in the passenger seat, and Mr. K discreetly moved to the back seat to sit quietly.

The three of them drove off in their car, all smiles, toward the best restaurant in Lower Manhattan, New York.

Now it's time for Larry to keep his promise! He's going to treat the two of them to a nice meal at a Manhattan restaurant to celebrate this great long trip.

Five minutes after the car drove off, Peter Pan, a floor trader at Paine Weber, hurried out of the New York office and passed the street corner where Larry and Edison had just been talking.

He had previously come to the New York branch to borrow money from a friend.

Peter Pan is getting married at the end of the month and is looking for a suitable place to live in New York.

Some time ago, he found a house he liked in Brooklyn, but the price was slightly over his budget.

Peter Pan had intended to borrow $500 from a friend so he could buy the house. So, after the market closed this morning, he rushed to the New York branch.

But at that moment, his friend happened to be chatting with Mr. Porter, the general manager of the sales department. Peter Pan already knew of Mr. Porter's reputation, and now that he had unexpectedly run into him, he couldn't pretend not to see him, so he greeted Mr. Porter in a friendly manner.

Mr. Potter returned the greeting and asked him what business he had at the sales office that afternoon.
Peter Pan didn't hide anything and told Mr. Potter about his desire to buy a house in Brooklyn.

Mr. Potter frowned and voiced his opinion.

He argued that while Brooklyn houses were cheap, they were too far from Wall Street and required crossing a bridge, so it would be better to move to the Manhattan Peninsula.

Peter Pan laughed and said, "Mr. Potter, I know you mean well. But I can't afford a house in Manhattan!"

"You can rent an apartment first. By the way, a friend of mine asked me to help him rent out an apartment. He has a four-story apartment building right next to the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and the price is negotiable. You can live there for a few years as a temporary measure and save up more money before buying a house!"

Mr. Potter's suggestion appealed to Peter Pan. In addition, the friend who learned that Peter Pan had come to borrow money repeatedly urged him to rent an apartment first and buy a house later.

Peter Pan asked Mr. Porter about the price of the apartment. Mr. Porter gave him a figure.

To be honest, it's really not expensive!
Peter Pan was intrigued and planned to return to his office on Wall Street to assess his funds and then consult his fiancée. If all went well, they would first arrange to have Mr. Porter's apartment as their wedding home.

But when he walked back to Wall Street, he immediately saw a crowd gathered downstairs at the Morgan Trust Bank building.

The dense crowd was packed tightly together, whispering amongst themselves and looking up at the top of the Morgan Bank building!
Peter Pan frowned and looked up in the direction of everyone's gaze, only to see a man standing on the edge of the roof of the Morgan Trust Bank, like a wooden, terrifying gargoyle statue.

Peter Pan looked again and recognized the man—it was Michael Jackson!
Jackson is a well-known short-term trading expert at the NYSE. Some time ago, he shorted General Electric and suffered a crushing defeat.

Although he closed his short positions as quickly as possible, unfortunately, the soaring GE stock price had already caused him to lose a lot of money.

It is said that Jackson has gone bankrupt, and his wife has left him with their children.

Today, he stood on the roof of Morgan Bank, his face blank. It seemed he intended to jump from there and end his life.

Bit Pan watched Jackson standing on the edge of the building's rooftop, his heart pounding. Although he was powerless to change Jackson's situation, he didn't want to see Jackson actually commit suicide.

Peter Pan wanted to shout at the other person to come down and not do anything foolish! Or tell him that life is full of difficulties, but they can all be overcome!

But he couldn't bring himself to speak, because he knew that this was the logic of the Wall Street story!

It's either greed or fear; it's human nature. Some people go from being wealthy to being penniless overnight; some go bankrupt and never recover; and some even need to jump off buildings to end their tragic lives.

This is the story of Wall Street; suicide is another form of sacrifice. And the market needs this kind of bloody sacrifice.

The dark mass of people downstairs stared at Jackson standing on the edge of the rooftop. Most of the onlookers were there to watch the spectacle, but a small group of them, like Peter Pan, couldn't help but feel a sense of shared sorrow.

Morgan Bank security personnel stealthily approached Jackson, who was standing by the building, clearly intending to pull him down and tell him—die or not, but don't die here!

Just then, Jackson suddenly pulled out a pistol and shouted at the crowd below in a hoarse, desperate voice,
"God will punish you! Greedy, bloodthirsty J.P. Morgan! I hate you! I hate this world!!"

As he spoke, Jackson pointed the pistol at his temple and pulled the trigger...

With a loud bang, a beam of blood shot out from the other side of his head.

Then, this once-powerful short-term trader on the New York Stock Exchange ended his life, falling from the sky like a discarded rag doll.

The crowd downstairs let out a surprised scream and hurriedly made way, afraid that the idiot's blood would splatter on their faces.

Five minutes later, New York police arrived to examine the body and took it away.

Thirty minutes later, the head of security at Morgan Trust Bank and the security personnel responsible for the negligence were dismissed.

An hour later, the body had been removed, the bloodstains had been wiped clean, and the crowd of onlookers had long since dispersed.

Peter Pan stood alone beside the new puddle of water, sighed, and turned away.

Within three days, Jackson's suicide was still a topic of conversation; but three days later, no one would remember this loser, and the story of Wall Street would continue as usual.

(End of this chapter)