Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 127 The Naked Choke Project Begins
"loan?"

Upon hearing those two words, Aaron's previously suppressed sense of superiority surged back into control.

Ha, so it turns out he was just putting on a brave face!

Instead of staying put in her muddy place, this poor widow is trying to emulate city dwellers and engage in advance consumption.

That's absolutely stupid!

Aaron straightened his back ramrod straight: "Marlene, I'm not trying to be mean, but it's not easy for a woman like you with a child. Why not just live a peaceful life? Why do you have to take out a bank loan?"

"Do you know how high the interest rates are, those bloodsucking banks? This house looks like it cost a lot of money, right? How are you going to pay it off? With the potatoes that grow on your few acres of rotten land?"

Sophia tugged at her husband's sleeve, signaling him to say less, but Aaron impatiently brushed her off.

"Don't worry!"

Aaron glared at his wife, then turned to Marlene with a "I'm doing this for your own good" attitude.

“Marlene, your brother-in-law is at least a decent man.”

He lit a cigar and took a deep drag.

"I work at NPC Company, and I'm currently the regional manager of the Sausalito docks, overseeing dozens of people. Even the big boss, Mr. Rutham, has personally praised my abilities!"

“I’m not telling you this to brag. I’m telling you that in our upper-class circle, credit is the most important thing. What you’re doing is called excessive debt. Once your cash flow dries up, the bank will immediately take your house and land. Then, you and Lucy will be sleeping on the streets!”

His veiled and sarcastic lecture was delivered with great enthusiasm, and he seemed extremely self-satisfied.

Lucy stood behind Marlene, her pretty face flushed with anger.

She pouted. If it weren't for her aunt Sophia's sake, she would have wanted Uncle Er Gou to hang this fat, foul-mouthed bastard right from the beam in the stable!

Mr. Lawson is right. There are always some self-righteous fools who like to flaunt their stupidity as experience!

Sophia's face was extremely embarrassed. She tried desperately to signal to her husband with her eyes, but to no avail.

"besides……"

Sofia abruptly changed the subject, pointing to the Chinese people over at the stables.

“Sister, are those people your employees? I think I saw several more on the way. They looked, oh God, they looked so strong, it was dangerous. Those Chinese guys, they…”

"They are not employees."

Marlene interrupted her sister with a serious expression: "They are Mr. Lawson's servants."

"Mr. Lawson?"

Sofia and Avril asked in unison.

"Correct."

Marlene's tone unconsciously carried a hint of pride and gentleness: "He is our tenant."

"tenant?"

Sofia was confused again.

Why would someone who can afford such a dangerous servant come to her sister's remote farm as a lodger?
"Mr. Lawson is a good man!"

Lucy couldn't hold back any longer and proudly interrupted, "Mr. Lawson is a nobleman from the Far East, he's not like those, those..."

She was at a loss for words; she couldn't think of any words to describe the railway workers.

"He just likes the environment here, so he's staying with us temporarily. Besides, Mr. Lawson is super nice. He's handsome, has a good temper, and is very generous!"

Lucy's eyes lit up again when she mentioned all the good things about Lawson.

Pure admiration cannot be faked by any language.

Avril Fanning's eyes lit up slightly.

A wealthy Eastern nobleman?

She subconsciously straightened her collar, and her heart, which had been dormant since her husband's death, began to stir a little again.

Only Aaron Bryant scoffed dismissively and frowned.

An aristocrat? A Chinese guy?

Damn it, that's the funniest joke he's heard all year!
These country women are really short-sighted; they were completely fooled by the lies concocted by a yellow-skinned monkey.

"Nobility? Damn it! Even if the Qing emperor came to California, he'd have to obediently lay railroads for me!"

Just as Aaron was about to give the mother and daughter a good talking-to, Marlene's eyes suddenly lit up as she looked toward the entrance to the manor.

"what!"

She smiled brightly: "Mr. Lawson is back."

Sophia and Avril both followed Marlene's gaze and looked over.

……

Three fine horses, arranged in a triangular formation, slowly strolled over from the nearby slope.

On either side stood two towering figures, Er Gou and San Gou.

They silently controlled their horses, and their imposing presence made Aaron Bryant instinctively take a half-step back.

The man walking in the very middle...

"Oh my God..."

Avril Fanning quickly covered her mouth to prevent herself from screaming!

Sofia was stunned.

He rode on his horse, his posture upright.

He was wearing only a simple linen shirt, which perfectly outlined his hormone-fueled physique, creating a strong visual impact!

With broad shoulders and a narrow waist, his tall figure came from behind the light. It's hard to imagine what it would feel like to be held in someone's arms by such a physique!
Sofia's face flushed instantly, turning bright red all the way to her ears.

She dared not look any longer and hurriedly lowered her head.

Avril Fanning, on the other hand, is a completely different story.

A pair of large eyes were staring intently at the man.

"Ahu!"

Lawson approached the group and reined in his horse.

"Yes!"

Ah Hu immediately dismounted and took the reins from Lawson's horse.

Lawson then nimbly flipped over and jumped down.

"Have the guests arrived?"

"This must be Miss Sophia, right?"

Lawson turned to Sophia: "Marlene has been waiting for you for a long time. She always says she has the kindest and prettiest sister in all of California."

He made a casual remark, yet subtly praised both sisters at the same time.

"Hello, Mr. Lawson."

Sofia's face turned even redder, and she nervously clutched the hem of her skirt.

"Hello, Mr. Lawson."

Avril Fanning immediately stepped forward and extended her hand.

With what she considered her most charming gesture, she slightly curtsied: "My name is Avril Fanning, and I'm Sofia's best friend. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Lawson glanced at her indifferently, then took her hand.

"Mrs. Fanning".

Polite, distant, and quick to part ways.

"Who is this?"

Lawson's gaze finally settled on the fat man who looked displeased.

“This is my husband, Aaron Bryant.”

Sofia quickly introduced herself.

“Oh, Mr. Bryant.”

Lawson nodded politely.

"Humph!"

Aaron Bryant snorted and looked Lawson up and down with his small eyes.

It's just a yellow-skinned monkey.

No matter how well you pretend, you're still just a yellow-skinned monkey.

How dare he touch my female companion? Even though Avril is just my wife's best friend, she'll be his sooner or later!

"Aaron!"

Sofia pinched her husband hard.

"Oh, Hello."

Aaron reluctantly reached out, but only touched Lawson's palm perfunctorily before taking out a handkerchief and wiping it vigorously.

That arrogance and disdain were no longer concealed.

“My name is Aaron Bryant, and I’m the newly appointed Regional Manager for the Sausalito Terminal of the Northern Pacific Coast Railroad!”

After he finished speaking, he glanced at Lawson smugly.

Did you hear that? Hillbilly, Chinaman, this is the job of the upper class!

But he didn't see the slightest bit of annoyance from Lawson; instead, Lawson smiled. "Oh? An NPC? What a coincidence."

"is it?"

Aaron was taken aback.

"Congratulations, Mr. Bryant."

Lawson's smile turned genuine: "That's a lucrative position. Sausalito Wharf is the gateway to the North Bay. For Mr. Rutham to entrust such an important position to you, you must have something special."

Aaron was immediately elated upon hearing this.

This Chinese guy has a good eye!

He was about to boast a few more words when Lawson turned to Marlene and said:

“Marlene, I’m all sweaty, I’m going to take a shower first. You take good care of the guests, and have Ah Hu and the others bring out that good stuff from the stable for Mr. Bryant to try.”

After speaking, he nodded politely to everyone and walked straight into the two-story building.

……

The bathroom on the second floor.

Wow…

Cool well water was poured over his head.

The bone-chilling cold instantly washed away the heat and sweat, and also cleared his mind considerably.

Within the water curtain, Lawson gave a cold smile.

Sausalito Pier, Aaron Bryant, haha.

It's better to come early than to come by chance.

This foolish, arrogant, and unlucky fellow happens to be in a crucial position.

He was practically the perfect scapegoat sent to him by God.

Lawson's naked chokehold plan has been underway for almost a month.

The execution point of this plan, the physical node that tightens the winch, is the Sausalito terminal!
He had also arranged for assassins to stage an accident at a crucial moment and kill the dock manager.

Now it seems that it's no longer necessary.

A foolish, arrogant manager who is eager to make a name for himself is far more useful than a dead man.

Aaron Bryant, your special talent is being a scapegoat, a hapless scapegoat.

at the same time.

Thousands of miles away, on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

London.

The heart of global finance.

A thick fog enveloped the city completely.

At the intersection of Rue Lombardy and Rue des Threads, beneath the blackened stone walls of the Bank of England, carriages and people flowed in a constant stream.

This is a temple of money, and also a purgatory of greed.

Every gentleman who enters or leaves here, and every number they discuss, could determine the blood and fire in a colony thousands of miles away.

In an inconspicuous brokerage firm.

A German man named Günther Schmidt had just signed his name on his bank draft.

He was one of Lawson's assassins.

He was a steel merchant from Essen, Prussia, rude, rich, but completely ignorant of finance.

"Mr. Schmidt."

The British agent across from him was trying hard to hide his smile.

Are you really sure you want to do this?

Phelps felt like he'd hit the jackpot today!
This German stormed into his office with a bank draft of $10,000, and immediately declared he was going to short the North Pacific Coast Railroad.

"Yes."

Schmidt slammed his hand on the table in frustration.

“That Rasham, he stole my rail business last month, damn it, I’m going to bankrupt him, I’m going to short his stock!”

"Yes, sir."

Phelps cautioned, "Short selling, also known as securities lending, requires a huge margin. And Mr. Rustam himself is a banker; once he discovers someone is attacking his stock, he only needs to..."

Phelps made a gesture of pulling up.

"He will immediately mobilize all the funds in his vault to drive up the stock price in the opposite direction. In finance, we call this a short squeeze. At that time, sir, your margin will be wiped out, and we will also be forcibly liquidated by the exchange. Your money will be completely wiped out."

Of course, Lawson's assassins knew all this.

This is precisely why Lawson rejected traditional short-selling strategies from the very beginning.

That wasn't short selling; that was sending dinner to the financial tycoon, Latham.

"I don't care about short squeezes!"

Schmidt feigned anger and said, "I want him to be finished. I've heard you Londoners have a gambling game, what's it called, options?"

Phelps' eyes lit up.

Oh, it's a clever fat sheep!
"Sir, options are not gambling; they are contracts of rights. Are you referring to put options?"

"Yes, that's it!"

Schmidt waved his hand dismissively: "I don't care what it's called, I'll pay for the right and bet on that damn Rasham's stock price will plummet within a month!"

This is the core of the Lawson naked choke plan.

A perfect lever that can be called the financial nuclear weapon of this era!
In 1878, although there were no standardized options exchanges like those in later years in London and New York, these private put and call contracts were already very common among speculators and bankers.

This is the only way for Lawson to achieve high returns with low investment and keep the risks under control.

"Well then, Mr. Schmidt."

Phelps smiled sincerely: "Let's talk about the details."

NPC's current share price is stable at fifty dollars per share.

"I think NPC's stock price is overvalued."

“I’m willing to pay a premium to purchase a contract. Thirty days from now, regardless of NPC’s share price, I have the right to sell it to you forty-five dollars per share, Mr. Phelps!”

Phelps is probably laughing to himself right now!
Sell ​​it for 45 silver dollars?
This means that this German idiot will only start making money when the stock price falls below 45 pesos.

Phelps, on the other hand, had to hold his nose and buy those stocks at 45 eagles a share.

But, how is this possible?

Latham's banking reputation speaks for itself; its stock price has been stable at fifty eagles for almost half a year, and recently it has even shown an upward trend.

This is practically free money!

"Of course, of course."

Phelps rubbed his chin with feigned difficulty: "But Mr. Schmidt, you know that taking on such an obligation also carries risks for me. This royalty is not cheap."

"Name your price, you Englishman!"

"For Deutsche Steel's sake."

Phelps held up three fingers: "One dollar and fifty cents per share. You pay the same amount for the rights to the number of shares you want. This money is non-refundable, regardless of whether the share price goes up or down in thirty days."

"Okay, deal!"

Schmidt, as if afraid he might change his mind, said, "I'll give you all ten thousand dollars!"

Ten thousand US dollars, divided by the royalty of one and a half taels of silver per share...

Phelps quickly calculated on the paper: "That's 6666 shares of put option! Very good, Mr. Schmidt, you're a shrewd businessman. We need to sign a contract."

……

London, in different locations.

At another, more prestigious private bank.

A debonair French banker, who calls himself Étienne Du Bois, is enjoying fine cigars with a nobleman's broker.

Lord Covington.

Du Bois said in a low voice, “I have no intention of offending Mr. Latham. I have only heard a little bit of a rumor from my sources in Paris.”

"Oh?"

Lord Covington raised an eyebrow.

"NPC seems to have a substantial bond to pay at the end of the month."

Du Bois smiled and said, "And I happen to suspect that their cash flow may not be so healthy right now."

"You mean..."

"I bet they can't pay."

Dubois shrugged: "A little gambling is fun, isn't it? I'm willing to pay a premium of 1.25 US dollars for a put contract with an exercise price of 44 US dollars. Consider it a prize for our afternoon tea."

"Deal. For the sake of French friendship."

Ten thousand US dollars, divided by the premium of 1.25 Eagle dollars per share, equals eight thousand shares of put option.

(End of this chapter)