Hong Kong films: From street thugs to Hong Kong financial tycoons

Victoria Harbour, glittering at night, with a gentle sea breeze.

On this bustling sea area known as the Pearl of the Orient, a super-luxury three-story yacht worth hundreds of millions of Hong Kong dollars and measuring 60 meters in length is slowly cruising.

The yacht was brightly lit, filled with elegantly dressed people, as an extremely extravagant top-tier capital banquet was underway.

This place is a gathering of the most powerful people in Hong Kong today. The taipans of long-established British trading companies, the presidents of several major Chinese banks, and even several senior executives of the Hong Kong Stock Exchange are all holding expensive champagne and chatting and laughing on the deck.

"Oh, Sir Arthur, congratulations! The Hang Seng Index broke through the historical mark of 3900 points today. Your Far East British Mutual Fund must have earned at least another three billion in the past two weeks!"

A Chinese bank president with a Mediterranean hairstyle toasted the yacht owner with a fawning expression.

This British gentleman, known as Sir Arthur, was in his sixties and wore an extremely exquisite handmade tailcoat with the Order of the British Empire pinned to his chest.

He is currently the largest foreign fund manager in Hong Kong, controlling over 100 billion Hong Kong dollars, making him practically a local tyrant in Hong Kong's financial circles.

"Haha, you're too kind, President Wang."

Sir Arthur took a sip of champagne with extreme arrogance, his deep blue eyes gleaming with greed.

"Hong Kong is truly a blessed land. Money from all over the world is flowing here. I bet the Hang Seng Index will break through 4500 points in less than three months."

"The capital of our Great British Empire will establish an everlasting golden empire here!"

"Jazz are wise!"

A group of sycophants around him immediately echoed his sentiments.

Just then, a white British assistant in a fine suit strode onto the deck and whispered a few words in Sir Arthur's ear.

"What? A super short position with 50x leverage?"

Sir Arthur raised an eyebrow, as if he had heard an extremely funny joke. "You mean, in the past week, hundreds of offshore accounts hidden in the shadows have been frantically accumulating short positions in the futures market, with funds amounting to tens of billions?"

The white assistant wiped away a cold sweat: "Yes, Sir, this fund is very secretive and extremely ruthless. Without double leverage, the principal is probably around one billion."

"But the other party is a complete madman, using the maximum leverage of fifty times for all their betting agreements, targeting our core blue-chip stocks held by British companies. Peregrine even has a large portion of their betting agreements in the future!"

"Pfft—Hahaha!"

Sir Arthur showed no panic whatsoever; instead, he burst into extremely arrogant laughter, as if watching a monkey show.

The bigwigs around them all cast curious glances their way.

"Everyone, I have some incredibly stupid news to tell you!"

Sir Arthur raised his glass, tapped it, and loudly mocked, "Just when we're enjoying the bull market feast, some fool who doesn't know his own mortality has taken a billion dollars, leveraged it fifty times, and tried to short our entire Hong Kong market."

"boom--!"

There was a moment of silence on the deck, followed by a burst of uproarious laughter that seemed to overturn the yacht.

"Shorting a 1 billion yuan market capitalization by shorting a 100 billion yuan market capitalization? That's utterly insane!"

"Fifty times leverage? If the market opens next Monday and the index just jumps two points, this idiot's billion will be wiped out instantly!"

"I bet it's some African nouveau riche who just struck gold and knows absolutely nothing about finance, Sir Arthur. This is practically a billion dollars handed to him by God!"

Sir Arthur thoroughly enjoyed this feeling of being in control, and a venomous glint flashed in his eyes.

"Go and notify the trading department."

Sir Arthur instructed his men, "Next Monday morning when the market opens, gather 10 billion in funds and give the market a huge boost."

"I want to push the market up by 3% in the first hour after it opens. I want to make this arrogant clown lose everything and have his account wiped out instantly. I want him to jump off the tallest building in Central in despair."

"Cheers! To our chance to win a billion dollars for free next Monday!"

On the yacht, these capitalists, who believed they controlled the lifeline of the world's economy, arrogantly raised their glasses, as if the short sellers hiding in the shadows were already dead corpses.

……

At the same time, on the 48th floor of the Far East Finance Centre in Central, was the headquarters of Yiu Shing Capital.

Compared to the extravagant revelry on Victoria Harbour, the atmosphere here was so oppressive it was almost palpable. In the sprawling 20,000-square-foot penthouse, the main trading room doors were locked tight.

Twenty top traders, poached by Chen Zheng with high salaries, were sitting around the dozen or so Bloomberg terminals, their eyes bloodshot and their foreheads covered in cold sweat.

Two of them, who were a little less mentally strong, were frantically biting their fingernails, almost biting them off completely.

Tension, an extremely terrifying tension, because their accounts held a staggering 50 billion in short-selling chips.

This isn't just five hundred dollars! This is five hundred billion dollars, and tomorrow is Monday!

All day today, financial news around the world has been frantically touting that the super bull market is still going on and that the Dow Jones Industrial Average will reach a new all-time high. In everyone's eyes, shorting is tantamount to suicide.

"Boss... I had a dream last night that the stock market opened 10% higher, and we all owed the brokerage firm hundreds of billions of dollars, and were sold to Africa to mine coal..."

A young trader spoke to Chen Zheng, his voice trembling with tears.

Chen Zheng himself was actually quite flustered; the back of his shirt was already soaked with cold sweat, but as the leader of this group, he had to pretend to be calm.

"What's the panic? Even the boss isn't worried, why are you all in such a rush!"

Chen Zheng slammed his hand on the table, forcing himself to bolster his courage. "The boss is a living saint who can predict the market miracles in ten minutes. Working for him means you'll be starving for three days straight... I mean, you'll be living the high life! Everyone keep a close eye on the screen and check the concealment of the sub-accounts repeatedly!"

"drop--!"

Just then, the extremely heavy soundproof door of the trading room was pushed open from the outside by someone swiping a card, and an extremely tempting aroma mixed with the smell of money wafted out.

Lin Yao walked in, dressed in a pure white haute couture casual suit and wearing an extremely dazzling Patek Philippe diamond watch, looking extremely languid.

Behind him followed a dozen or so five-star hotel chefs pushing food carts.

"Brothers, stop staring blankly, the last meal... cough, the victory celebration is here!"

Lin Yao snapped his fingers in an extremely flamboyant manner.

"Whoosh!"

The silver cover on the food cart was simultaneously lifted.

Holy crap!!!

The eyes of the twenty traders widened instantly, as they saw that the long food cart was filled with exquisite delicacies that ordinary people had never seen or even heard of.

Fresh, live double-headed abalone flown in from Australia, Alaskan king crab legs thicker than an arm, top-grade Japanese A5 Wagyu beef sliced ​​like works of art, and jars of Russian Caspian black caviar chilled on ice, a single spoonful of which is worth a year's salary for an average person!

Not to mention the neatly stacked box of 82 Lafite next to it, worth hundreds of thousands of yuan. This isn't eating a midnight snack, it's practically eating raw gold bars!

"Boss... this is far too lavish..."

Chen Zheng swallowed hard, feeling his stomach convulsing violently.

"Eat, eat as much as you want. My brothers have suffered a lot of mental torment with me these past two weeks, we have to make up for it tonight."

Lin Yao casually picked up a king crab leg, took a bite like he was gnawing on sugarcane, and then pointed at the group of traders who were still in a daze.

"What, you're afraid to eat? Afraid that if the market goes up, we'll be wiped out and won't have anything to eat next?"

The traders looked at each other, their mouths watering at the sight of the delicious food, but the enormous sword of Damocles hanging over their heads—a sum of 50 billion—made it hard for them to eat.

Lin Yao threw the half-eaten crab leg into the trash can and pulled out an extremely expensive silk wet wipe to wipe his hands.

He slowly walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window and looked down at the Hong Kong night view, which was decorated with neon lights and resembled a galaxy.

"I know what you're afraid of."

Lin Yao's voice was devoid of its usual playfulness and languor; instead, it exuded an extremely cold, profound, and terrifying pressure that seemed to see through the torrent of a century of history.

"The whole world is bullish. The English, Americans, even the old lady selling tea eggs downstairs think the stock market will keep rising to the sky."

"Do you think that we are trying to use this 1 billion yuan principal to leverage 50 billion yuan in short selling? It's like an ant trying to shake a tree, or courting death."

Lin Yao turned around, his eyes like two sharp scalpels, sweeping over everyone present.

"But do you know that the current prosperity is a false paradise built on an extremely fragile bubble!"

"The United States has extremely severe twin deficits, the dollar has depreciated wildly, and those greedy capitalists on Wall Street have invented so-called portfolio insurance."

"Once there is even a slight sell-off in the market, the computer will automatically dump more shares to stop the loss, which is an extremely terrifying chain reaction."

"And the bomb's fuse was lit last week!"

Lin Yao slammed his hand on the desk next to him with a loud bang that made everyone's heart tremble.

"Tomorrow, right tomorrow, when the sun rises and the opening bell rings, you will see what an epic collapse is, what a purgatory of capital is."

"Those foreign devils who are still drinking champagne on yachts and embracing female celebrities will find in despair tomorrow that their proud billions of dollars in capital have vanished overnight."

"And you!"

Lin Yao pointed to the group of traders who were completely shocked by his speech and whose blood was boiling wildly.

"You will be the executioners of this massacre, you will personally sever the backbone of Wall Street, and every Enter key you press will unleash a bloodbath in this world."

"Tell me, would you rather be a spineless coward spending your whole life worrying and earning a pittance in transaction fees, or would you rather follow me and rake in billions in this epic tsunami, becoming a god among men!"

Lin Yao's highly inflammatory speech, which sounded like he was possessed by Hitler, completely ignited the most insane flames deep within the hearts of these top gamblers.

"To be deified and made an ancestor!!!"

Chen Zheng's eyes were bloodshot. He suddenly grabbed a bottle of Lafite from the table, bit off the cork with his teeth, and gulped down half of it.

"To hell with the bull market, to hell with margin calls, let's do it! Let's follow the boss and smash Wall Street!"

The twenty traders, like wolves on steroids, howled and rushed toward the food truck, grabbing Wagyu beef and caviar and stuffing them into their mouths. Even if the sky were to fall, they wouldn't bat an eye now.

Because they firmly believe that the man in front of them is the only god in the stock market.

Just then.

"drop--!"

The trading room door was pushed open again.

"Oh, are you eating?"

Thirteen Sister, dressed in an extremely dashing Hung Hing Hall Master's battle robe, strode in with an extremely arrogant gait.

She had just gone to Victoria Harbour to enjoy the sea breeze and gave her men in suits a lecture; she was in an absolutely fantastic mood.

"Sis, come and have some king crab."

Lin Yao resumed his lazy, lifeless demeanor, leaning back on the sofa.

"I'm not eating anymore, I'm too angry to eat!"

Thirteen Sister roughly tugged at her tie, grabbed a bottle of ice-cold soda and downed it in one gulp. "Ah Yao, guess who I ran into at the dock? A bunch of foreign devils dressed like penguins!"

"foreign devil?"

Lin Yao raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, some damn Sir Arthur is throwing a party on his yacht!"

Thirteen Sister cursed angrily, "I was taking the brothers for a walk at the dock when that old dog was laughing on the deck with a megaphone, saying that some idiot had shorted the market with 50 times leverage using 1 billion, and that he was going to crush that idiot tomorrow and make 1 billion for free."

"Damn it! I wanted to lead my brothers aboard that ship and knock that old foreigner's gold teeth out. So what if we shorted the market with a billion dollars? Did we eat his rice? Money can't buy my happiness!"

Thirteen Sister slammed her fist on the table, fiercely protective of her own brother. Little did she know that the incredibly stupid idiot Sir Arthur was talking about was none other than her own younger brother.

Upon hearing this, Chen Zheng and the others, who were frantically devouring crabs, froze in their tracks, and the entire trading room instantly fell into an eerie silence.

"Sir Arthur, that old codger from the Anglo-Chinese Mutual Fund in the Far East?"

Chen Zheng swallowed hard and turned to look at Lin Yao. As a fellow professional, he knew all too well the terrifying power Sir Arthur wielded in Hong Kong.

That's a super-big player who can mobilize hundreds of billions of foreign capital. If he really does drive up the market at the opening tomorrow, then their leverage of fifty times...

"hehe."

Lin Yao wasn't angry at all; instead, he laughed in an extremely perverse way. His laughter echoed in the empty trading room, sending chills down everyone's spine.

"Sis, it wasn't a wasted trip. You brought back extremely valuable intelligence."

Lin Yao walked to the huge Bloomberg terminal, placed his hands on the keyboard, and looked at the static Hang Seng Index on the screen.

"So you're planning to use 10 billion yuan to pump up the market and force me to liquidate my account when it opens tomorrow, right?"

"This is like a pillow delivered just when you're about to fall asleep."

Lin Yao suddenly turned his head, his eyes flashing with an extremely bloodthirsty glint, like a capitalist demon.

"Old Chen, the plan has changed. Tomorrow when the market opens, however much he dares to push the price up, you just need to place short orders to absorb that amount of his upward movement, making him think he can drive us to the brink!"

"Once all of his billions are trapped..."

Lin Yao made an extremely cruel throat-slitting motion.

"I'm going to lock the door and beat him to a pulp, smashing him and his entire savings into mincemeat!"

The time was 11:59 p.m. on October 18, 1987. The second hand of the wall clock slowly slid toward 12.

"when--!!!"

The midnight bells rang with a dull thud, and there were only nine and a half hours left until Black Monday arrived.

Capitalists around the world are sound asleep, dreaming of getting rich, but no one knows that a grim reaper from Kowloon Walled City has raised his blood-red scythe worth 50 billion.

The storm is finally coming!