America's No. 1 financial conglomerate

Chapter 578 Finally, they made their move.

Early morning of December 11, inside a luxury mansion on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, New York.

As Ernst, dressed in a custom-made dark gray wool robe, slowly walked into the dining room, Daphne Barnes strode in, clutching a freshly printed copy of the New York Post, her expression grave.

"Sir, you need to take a look at this first." Daphne handed the newspaper to Ernst.

Ernst glanced at it, and the headline on the front page immediately caught his eye.

A 14-year-old boy died suddenly from an epileptic seizure after playing Counter-Strike for 16 hours straight! The game Counter-Strike is suspected to be the culprit.

Below the title is a blurry photo showing a messy bedroom with remnants of the Counter-Strike game on the computer screen.

He slowly picked up the newspaper and read the text word by word: "According to the latest preliminary investigation report issued by the Rochester Police Department, 14-year-old Tyler White had no prior history of epilepsy. On the evening of December 10, after playing Counter-Strike on his computer in his bedroom for 16 consecutive hours, he suddenly experienced convulsions and foaming at the mouth. His parents rushed him to the hospital, but after three hours of intensive care, he was pronounced dead early this morning."

The report continued, "Taylor White's clinical symptoms are completely consistent with the characteristics of photosensitive epilepsy, and it cannot be ruled out that his onset is directly related to the screen flickering of the game he was playing."

"I've made my move." Ernst put down his newspaper, his voice calm to the point of indifference, but Daphne could sense the thunderous rage hidden beneath that calm.

Ernst was indeed furious; he hadn't expected Wall Street to be so ruthless in its disregard for human life.

Although he wasn't a good person, the child was innocent, a vibrant life, yet in the eyes of Wall Street, he was nothing more than a tool to short-sell stocks. A teenager with no prior history of epilepsy suddenly died from photosensitive epilepsy, and the timing of this death is far too coincidental; it's hard not to suspect something fishy is going on.

This tragedy was like opening Pandora's box for the gaming industry. When the TV in the living room was turned on, Ernst felt a sense of déjà vu, as if a pack of wolves was about to pounce on him.

All media outlets were broadcasting this breaking news, using sharp language to directly target Jump Games.

"According to news just received by this station, Tyler White's parents have retained a lawyer and are preparing to file a lawsuit against YueDong Games, demanding that they bear corresponding civil liability. At the same time, we have also received anonymous tips from several viewers who claim that they or their family members experienced symptoms such as dizziness, nausea, and blurred vision after playing YueDong Games' products..."

Ernst walked into the living room, his eyes fixed sharply on the television screen.

"At least you have some brains." Ernst sneered, his tone full of disdain. "You know how to first create buzz by having a print media outlet break the story exclusively, and then have major television stations follow suit, forming an overwhelming media offensive. You're quite adept at this combination of tactics."

He turned to Daphne and said, "I bet the editors of other media outlets have already written their articles smearing Leap Games, right? They're just waiting for the next issue of the newspaper to come out, and then Leap Games will be the absolute protagonist."

Daphne paused for a moment, as if mentally calculating, "At this rate of public opinion fermentation, this matter will spread throughout the United States in less than three hours, and may even attract global attention."

At this moment, a rapid ringtone rang from the cell phone.

Ernst picked up his personal cell phone from the coffee table; the screen displayed the name Ryan Ruiz.

"I already know about it," Ernst said, pressing the answer button first.

Ryan Ruiz on the other end of the phone stopped explaining and quickly reported on situations not yet reported by the media: "The situation is more serious than we anticipated. According to the information I just received, the FTC received 13 complaints against our company, Leap Games, this morning all alleging physical discomfort after playing our games. Nine of these complaints directly target Counter-Strike." "That's fucking ridiculous," Ernst muttered, his gaze sweeping over the European-style wall clock in the living room. "Is the Federal Trade Commission even open at this hour?"

Thirteen complaints are a drop in the ocean for a game company with tens of millions of users in North America.

Which major gaming company in North America doesn't receive hundreds of complaints a year?

The key issue is not the number of complaints, but the timing of the complaints.

At the same time that Tyler White's death was exposed, 13 complaints about the health risks of games suddenly appeared. This was obviously deliberately manipulated behind the scenes to put pressure on regulatory agencies, force them to intervene and investigate, further amplify negative public opinion, and deal a fatal blow to YueDong Games' stock price.

"There's something even more pressing," Ryan said with a hint of seriousness. "Harlan Perry of the Rochester Police Department just gave an exclusive interview to CNN."

"In the interview, he claimed that after analyzing the graphics of several products under YueDong Games, he found that most of these games used a red-blue alternation mode of 16 frames per second. This frequency happens to be in the dangerous range of 15-30 Hz that can induce photosensitive epilepsy when processing sudden flashing graphics."

He also stated bluntly that as an industry giant, YueDong Games was aware of the health risks associated with this visual mode, yet it disregarded user safety in pursuit of visual effects, which is playing with users' lives.

"Harlan Perry..." Ernst repeated the name softly, his fingers tapping lightly on the back of his phone. "Check this guy's background, see which institutions on Wall Street he's connected to."

He paused, his eyes sharpening. "Forget it, I'll investigate myself."

Harlan Perry's remarks are completely misleading to the public.

The 16-frame alternating red and blue image transitions are common even in high-definition movies, let alone games. This is exploiting the public's complete lack of knowledge in this area to forcibly smear YueDong Games.

"Should we formally submit an application to the Rochester Police Department to intervene in the investigation?" Ryan asked on the other end of the phone. "According to relevant laws, as a party involved in the incident, we have the right to know the detailed progress of the investigation and can also provide relevant evidence to prove the safety of the company's products."

"If evidence can be found to prove that there are other hidden circumstances surrounding Tyler White's death, it might be possible to reverse the public opinion."

Ernst hesitated for a moment, then decisively refused, "No, there's no point in doing that."

"The main battlefield of this war has never been the police investigation room, but the financial markets." His voice carried a confident air of masterful control. "As long as we can sweep through the financial markets, those guys on Wall Street will push Harlan Perry out as the scapegoat."

Ernst walked to the French windows, pushed aside the heavy velvet curtains, and looked out at the view of Central Park and the towering buildings in the distance.

The rising sun shines on the towering skyscrapers, reflecting a dazzling light, but beneath this light lies countless unseen battles.

"Just handle it according to the normal public relations procedures," Ernst continued. "We can offer some condolences and sympathy to the deceased's family."

"A press conference was held to emphasize that all of YueDong Games' products have undergone rigorous safety testing and meet globally accepted audiovisual product safety standards."

"As for the FA, I expect this matter will escalate, and a hearing is inevitable. Be prepared."

"So what's next?" Ryan Ruiz wondered what Jump Games needed to do in the financial markets.

Ernst turned to Daphne, who was standing by the sofa, nodded slightly, and gestured to the armchair next to her, indicating that she should make herself at home. Daphne paused for a moment, then nodded her thanks and sat down.

Ernst then calmly said to Ryan Ruiz on the other end of the phone, "I estimate that our stock price will definitely suffer a heavy blow today."

"I saw it; the pre-market decline has already exceeded 4.7%," Ryan Ruiz replied.

"That's really fast," Ernst said.

Nasdaq's pre-market trading no longer starts at 4 PM, but rather from 8 AM until the market opens.

It's not even 8:30 yet, and the stock has already fallen by 4.7%, which shows how fierce the sell-off on Wall Street is.

With few shares in circulation and few shares held by retail investors, the price drop has already been significant.

Seeing Daphne Barnes holding a phone and waving at him, Ernst's expression turned serious and cold. "In this play, we'll give the first half of the stage to Wall Street and let them show off to their heart's content."

"Following the previous plan, you should enter the market when the stock price drops by 15%."

"You're the main character in this second half of the show. Whether you can fool Wall Street depends on your acting skills."

"Don't worry, I have enough chips and tools to attract Wall Street's attention to Jump Games," Ryan Ruiz said with a hint of excitement.

This is a hunt for Wall Street, it's hard not to be excited. After hanging up, Daphne Barnes immediately handed the phone to him.

The call was from Perkin Houston, and it was about this matter.

"The other side has already made their move. We just need to observe and proceed according to plan."

After a brief chat, Ernst hung up, casually tossed the phone onto the sofa, and headed towards the dining room.

Daphne Barnes paused for a moment, then saw Ernst walk into the restaurant and start eating heartily with Muller and several other bodyguards.

To be honest, the fact that a super-rich person could sit at the same table with their subordinates or servants, eating and chatting, had already shattered some of her preconceived notions.

And now, facing his company being shorted, and by Wall Street no less, he remains so calm and composed.

How so?

Am I stupid?

Ernst is clearly not.

Confident and well-prepared?

This is Wall Street, after all. Daphne watched Ernst sit at the table, elegantly cutting the fried eggs on his plate with a knife and fork, as if the earth-shattering crisis before him had nothing to do with him.

He was like an observer, as if he were standing from God's perspective, with everything under his control.

Although a plan was made in advance, we are dealing with Wall Street after all. No matter who it is, we have to go all out, right?

Daphne Barnes voiced her question, something she couldn't quite understand.

Ernst looked up at Daphne. "Remember this: in the capital markets, the most dangerous places are often the safest."

"Wall Street wants to panic us, to throw us into disarray, so they can take advantage of the situation and fleece us. But as long as we remain calm, the final outcome is still uncertain."

"Don't idolize Wall Street so much. They are just ordinary people who bleed."

Ernst put down his knife and fork, picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth, took a sip of warm water from his glass, and continued, "Besides, all their actions in this game were part of our plan."

Looking at his calm and composed demeanor, Daphne Barnes found him quite charming and hoped that he wouldn't end up being too clever for his own good and become the one who was left naked when the tide went out.