Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 157 Occupy Wall Street

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds, dappling the floor.

Zhou Yi sat in front of the computer, typing slowly and deliberately, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"What are you writing?" Natalie asked curiously as she came out of the bedroom.

She was wearing a beige cotton shirt tucked into her jeans and was barefoot on the carpet.

She took a few steps forward, put her hands on the back of the chair, and peered out.

Do you still remember the declaration of "eating up the rich" that day?

Zhou Yi flicked his cigarette ash and then typed out the last two sentences.

The cursor kept blinking as he began to check the spelling and formatting from the beginning.

“Abundant Monetary Funds, Tight Fiscal Policy,” Natalie read out the title. “That’s an interesting title.”

Zhou Yi tapped a few times to enlarge the text so she could see it more clearly:

—"Monetary Abundance and Fiscal Tightening: Neoliberal States in the End of Liquidity"

Natalie frowned and began to read the summary carefully.

After a long pause, she asked, "Are you writing a battle cry against the central bank?"

"Almost." Zhou Yi finally took his hands off the keyboard, turned around, and leaned back in his chair.

"To be precise, it is about dismantling a governance structure that disguises itself as technological neutrality."

Natalie took the cigarette and commented with a smile, "Your statement is a bit too structural functionalist."

“No.” Zhou Yi shook his head seriously. “This is about automating the exploitation mechanism.”

"After 2008, the Federal Reserve saved the entire asset class through unlimited liquidity."

Do you know what the most direct result of buying bonds, injecting capital, quantitative easing, and refinancing is?

"Let everyone keep buying houses? Investing in stocks?" Natalie said.

Zhou Yi tapped the screen sarcastically.

"The result is the creation of a political issue that cannot be addressed."

"As a result, everyone is forced to conform to the logic of fiscal discipline, accepting austerity, cuts, discipline, and rationing."

As he spoke, he pointed to the section title in bold font in the article:
—"A market republic, not a citizen republic."

“This is not a policy failure,” Zhou Yi said. “It is a successful counterrevolution.”

Natalie looked at him, her smile gradually fading.

“So,” she said, “you’re not accusing the Federal Reserve, you’re challenging the entire financial system.”

“Exactly.” Zhou Yi nodded slightly.

"What we are seeing is not that technocrats made mistakes, but that the anonymization of power within the system has been too thorough."

"When democracy is dethroned by credit rating, and when fiscal rules are written as non-negotiable budget caps, politics is no longer a form of governance, but a risk management framework."

Zhou Yi paused here, then took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

He took two deep breaths and then said:

"Actually, I started paying attention when I saw the slogan 'Eat up the rich' on the rooftop that day."

"Not because it's radical, but because it's back, after a seventeen-year hiatus."

“In the past few years, there has been a contraction in private credit, cuts to local education budgets, urban fiscal deficits, and the aftereffects of M2 inflation.”

"Combined with local strike rates and the debt ratio of low- and middle-income groups, emotions are building up, but they haven't found a place to settle yet."

Do you think there will be a second Occupy Wall Street-style movement?

"Maybe."

Zhou Yi said meaningfully, "But this time, the situation will be very different."

Natalie looked down again and found that the last part of the article had been formatted and signed by her.

"Are you sure you want to use my name?" she asked in surprise.

“You are a successful journalist,” Zhou Yi said calmly. “You have sufficient public influence.”

Upon hearing this, Natalie remained silent for a few seconds before finally asking softly, "Will they be able to read it?"

“Yes,” he said. “They will understand, whether it’s those in charge of the budget or those who wrote the petitions.”

"Then, you spend ten times the effort to prove you wrong, or that it doesn't matter at all."

Natalie nodded, about to say something, when a yellow notification popped up in the upper right corner of the computer screen.

Zhou Yi's heart skipped a beat, and he tapped his fingers several times. The window switched, and the surveillance footage appeared.

Four men arrived at the apartment building.

He was dressed casually, with a walkie-talkie hanging behind his ear, and had no number or badge.

The movements were unhurried, but the spacing between them and the order in which they entered the arena revealed obvious signs of training.

“The federal government has sent people,” Zhou Yi said. “Just as I predicted, they’re not going through the motions of issuing an arrest warrant.”

He quickly opened the content publishing program on his desktop and loaded the pre-configured news distribution interface.

The interface flickered, and the progress bar filled up instantly.

Natalie took her coat from beside the sofa and handed it to Zhou Yi: "How long until they knock on the door?"

"Two minutes at most," Zhou Yi said, getting up and walking towards the balcony.

"Remember what I taught you. In a few days, they will welcome you back as a hero."

As he spoke, he opened the French windows, and a gust of wind immediately rushed in.

The outside is a makeshift emergency escalator with peeling paint, but the structure is still quite sturdy.

Goodbye, Natalie.

As soon as she finished speaking, Natalie stood there, gazing in the direction the man had disappeared.

After a while, she calmly walked over, closed the French windows, locked them, then turned back to the sofa and sat down.

The computer screen also displays the user's personal homepage.

After refreshing, the article's readership had jumped to three digits.

Natalie closed her eyes and gently exhaled.

Morgan stood in front of apartment number 303, turned to his team members behind him, and gave them some instructions:
"Be gentle when you move, and don't touch her unintentionally."

"Our mission is to take people away, not to create a second crime scene."

"It's not about arresting people."

As soon as he said it, Morgan realized that it would be interpreted as ambiguous stance in other contexts.

But he doesn't care.

It's better to have a vague stance than to offend someone outright.

The team members looked at each other, but still agreed.

He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

A dozen seconds later, the sound of shoes scraping against the floor came from inside the room.

Then, the chain was pulled open.

Half a face peeked out from under the door.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Ms. Natalie Watts?"

The woman's gaze moved from Morgan's face to the badges, folders, and earpiece behind him, before returning to his face.

“I am,” she said. “Who are you?”

“I am Morgan, from the Joint Counterterrorism Investigations Unit.”

As the man spoke, he opened his identification book, flipped to the page on law enforcement authorization, and showed it to her.

"You are needed to assist in the investigation of a federal security incident."

“Federal security?” Natalie frowned, her tone slightly raised. “I’m not a terrorist, and I haven’t handled weapons. What do you want with me?”

Morgan opened the folder and took out a sheet of printed paper.

"We have not made any charges against you."

"This action is based on a multi-agency mandate initiated by ODNI."

"Can I refuse?" Natalie was still trying her best to play the role of someone who knew nothing.

“Of course you can.” Morgan put his things away. “But please understand, ma’am, this is not a press interview or a congressional hearing.”

“I am standing here today with full authority. If you refuse to cooperate, I cannot guarantee who will come next time or how.”

He paused briefly, then leaned closer and added in a low voice:
“Listen, Natalie, I really don’t want to hurt you.”

"But many things are beyond an individual's control."

(End of this chapter)