Blackstone Code

Chapter 187:

At 2:30 AM, the train finally came to a slow stop outside Bupayne Central Station. Emerging from the station with the sparse crowd, Lynch took a deep breath.

The smoggy air carried a scent that excited every cell in his body—this was the smell of the big city.

In Sabin City, most of the streets were pitch black after 8 PM, with barely anything visible. Even in better areas, the dim streetlights would make people feel uneasy. Except for a few central districts that remained brightly lit all night, most areas fell silent as water after dark.

But the city before Lynch at the moment seemed to be glowing. Admittedly, there were indeed some places that were very dark, but the sky above the distant city center was as bright as day.

"Sir, need a ride?" A taxi driver waiting outside the station asked proactively.

Lynch glanced at him and couldn't help but smile. The big city was indeed different from the small city, even the taxi drivers dressed differently.

In Sabin City, taxi drivers didn't have any uniform or specific attire. They just needed to buy an operating license from the taxi management company to start their business.

There were no strict requirements for them, let alone dress codes. So in Sabin City, people could often see many oddly dressed drivers, especially in the summer.

It was said that a driver was once complained about by a passenger for not wearing pants, and the passenger demanded compensation from the driver and the management company for emotional distress. Yes, it was a female passenger who felt she was insulted in a certain way.

Lynch nodded and opened the car door for Vera.

Lynch didn't carry much luggage, but Vera had a suitcase. After they both got into the car, Lynch gave the address of the Bupayne Grand Hotel, and the taxi driver immediately started the vehicle.

The Bupayne Grand Hotel was one of the best hotels in Bupayne, mainly used to host important dignitaries and celebrities, and it had also received some foreign visitors. Many people believed that staying at the Bupayne Grand Hotel indicated one's status.

This stereotypical view persisted to this day. Even the taxi driver's attitude improved when he heard Lynch was staying at the Bupayne Grand Hotel.

After about a twenty-minute drive, the entire street had turned from dark to bright. Looking at the bustling streets outside the window, Vera was curious, "Is the security here good?"

Lynch looked at the driver, "Perhaps Mr. Driver knows something."

Hearing this, the driver adjusted his hat with one hand. He had been holding back from talking for about twenty minutes, almost suffocating. Now he was finally able to speak. "Sir, ma'am, Bupayne used to be relatively safe, but recently…"

Through the rearview mirror, Lynch saw a serious expression on his face, "There are more people wandering the streets these days, and there have been many robberies happening every day. It's said someone was killed a few days ago. So if it's not necessary, I suggest you both stay indoors at night."

Vera sighed after hearing this, "I didn't expect it to be the same everywhere."

The driver also sighed, "Life is getting tougher everywhere, not just here, but everywhere else too."

The taxi driver seemed to love talking. Under Lynch's questioning, he mentioned some recent incidents in Bupayne that were not known to outsiders, such as those nationwide victims of bond fraud.

These victims would gather together, protesting and demonstrating outside the City Hall, stock exchange, and some financial companies, making quite a scene.

While talking, the car stopped outside the magnificent Bupayne Grand Hotel. The doorman immediately opened the car door and the trunk to retrieve the luggage.

After paying the fare and a small tip, Lynch bid farewell to the taxi driver and entered the hotel. Watching the backs of Lynch and Vera, the taxi driver couldn't help but admire their demeanor.

Some passengers would start picking faults after getting in the car, trying to reduce the fare. They would brag and show no respect for the driver, let alone tip. The driver had seen many such people.

But those who proactively gave tips and smiled while saying "Good night" were rare. Maybe these two were important figures. Only big shots would have such grace, which might become a topic for him to brag about with his colleagues.

The next morning, with the hotel's wake-up service, Lynch got up on time. To his surprise, Vera was already up and waiting for him in the lobby.

After meeting, they enjoyed a Bupayne-style breakfast in the restaurant. Lynch then discussed his main purpose for coming to Bupayne.

When Vera heard that he planned to buy bonds, she couldn't help but exclaim, "Are you crazy? Those things are just waste paper now. What are you thinking?"

Lynch chuckled, "That's why it's a good time. I can buy these things at the price of waste paper and wait for them to become valuable again."

Vera was stunned, "How much are you planning to spend on those bonds?"

Lynch smiled even more, "How much? No, dear, you misunderstood my use of the word ‘buy'. I plan to pay by the pound."

"Aren't you saying it's almost waste paper?" Lynch swallowed a cheese ball and clapped his hands, "Then let's give it a price that matches its status."

Vera couldn't keep up with Lynch's thinking and pace. She felt this plan was unlikely to succeed, and the reason was simple.

Even if those bonds were worthless, they still had a "face value." Who knew if they might be redeemable someday; people wouldn't just discard them as waste paper even with a one in ten thousand chance.

This was the mainstream thought: since the bonds were already worthless, why not keep them?

If it were an isolated incident, Lynch wouldn't be doing this. He would buy back the bonds at a very low price based on their face value.

But the situation was different now. The disaster had just begun. People hadn't realized that the two market crashes this month were not the end; they weren't even the beginning.

Shifting the topic, Lynch wiped his hands and stood up, "anyway, let's first assess the situation. Perhaps things won't be as smooth as I imagine."

On Monday, before the three major exchanges opened, a large crowd had already gathered outside. Last Friday's crash had wiped the smiles off their faces. They stood silently outside the exchange, whispering.

The discussion was mainly about whether to keep watching or to cut losses.

Everyone had suffered heavily in this market crash. Whether they were ordinary people or wealthy individuals, the losses were severe.

Ordinary people might have lost their savings and perhaps taken out loans, while the wealthy saw their net worth, calculated in percentages, evaporate.

Everyone harbored a dark fear. Some were even trembling slightly. Human insignificance and helplessness were vividly displayed at this moment. Faced with such a clearly man-made disaster, they were powerless.

At nine o'clock, the exchanges opened. The traders entered first, followed by all the investors, their eyes fixed on the announcement board.

At 9:20, the board began to turn, and pre-market trading started. Everyone's expressions began to change drastically.

Pre-market trading, transactions outside of regular trading hours, would determine the opening price of a stock and largely indicate its trend for the day.

At 9:29, the rolling announcement board made the trading hall resemble a mourning venue. In the final ten seconds, a stock was delisted, exacerbating the pessimistic atmosphere.

At exactly 9:30, nearly all traders frantically sold all the stocks in their company accounts. Stocks that were ten bucks a share recently couldn't find buyers even at nine bucks, then eight bucks, seven bucks…

As long as there were buyers, even low prices were considered. Within less than fifteen minutes, the Federal Industrial Index and the three major indices saw almost cliff-like declines.

The shock caused by the financial market was far greater than the decline in the real economy. By ten o'clock, everyone in the federation knew through various channels what was happening in Bupayne.

Disaster had struck.

Countless shredded paper scraps were everywhere. These stocks had become worthless, even less than waste paper. Angry traders and investors had lost all reason.

The bottomless trend deepened people's panic. No one knew when it would hit bottom. Panic selling was in full swing.

At 10:10, the President's Cabinet issued an emergency presidential order, demanding the three major exchanges stop trading immediately to curb irrational panic selling.

The Presidential Cabinet's press secretary held an emergency press conference, listing countermeasures, including the federal government using part of its reserve funds to support the market and avoid a larger disaster.

Perhaps because the President and the Cabinet's decisions gave investors some confidence, there were no significant declines when trading resumed in the afternoon. After a brief stabilization, the Federal Industrial Index and the three major indices even saw a short-lived rise.Please vote for this novel at /series/blackstone-code/There are advance chapters available nowAccess will be granted 24 hours after the donationTier 1: 7 Advance chapters Link

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