Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 136 Monk Rostan's Last Move

By 11:30 a.m., U.S. Sugar's stock price had soared to $172.25, a jump that greatly surprised Larry.

Although he believed that the US sugar market might continue to rise, a large portion of the new margin deposit Larry sent to Reading Securities was intended to be held as a reserve fund by his holding company. Now that the stocks had already generated excess returns, Larry decided to take profits and close out his positions.

Anyway, he still has other shares in Paine Weber Company.

This small profit is enough to recoup the money I was planning to invest in Ford Motor Company. It's a pleasant surprise!

Larry tapped the table, turned to the trader, and said, "Please inform the telegraph office to close all my positions in U.S. Sugar. I will then send you a replacement trading order!"

The trader nodded in agreement and immediately ran to the telegraph room to give orders to the floor traders at the New York Stock Exchange.

Larry then took one of his trading slips, filled in his trading instructions, and handed it to the trader after he came out of the telegraph room.

"Sir, congratulations on making a fortune! Your trading skills are truly amazing, and we are all humbled by your abilities!" The portly manager stepped forward and flattered him.

Larry smiled faintly, glanced at the ceiling, pointed to the sky, and said calmly, "Maybe God is on my side today..."
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Meanwhile, in New York.

Monk Rothstein, the leader of the Rothstein gang, paced back and forth in his spacious office. Since the market opened at 10 a.m. this morning, he had heard one piece of bad news after another.

Clearly, someone is looking for trouble!

Rostan's 43 branches were simultaneously targeted this morning with numerous malicious long positions in US sugar futures, which happened to be surging today. If payouts were made at the current price, the metropolitan betting company would go completely bankrupt today.

The Rothschild gang, which had been running the business with Mr. Adams of Boston for so long, would have their wealth wiped out in an instant.

The key issue is that there's no way to stop the other party from paying compensation right now, because they didn't cheat. Even if this matter goes to court, they'll be in the right.

Moreover, betting companies operate in a gray area, and if the matter goes to court, the betting company itself will also be ruined.

Unfortunately, I wasn't in Boston today, and Mr. Adams was in Washington, so I was powerless to stop them from launching an attack.

Monk Rosstein was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back.

Just then, a man wearing silver-rimmed glasses walked in and said hurriedly, "Monk! Something bad has happened! The gambling den has called the police, but the police are on their side..."

Monk Rothstein gritted his teeth and said viciously, "...Mr. Kennedy, you're really ruthless this time! You're trying to drive us to our deaths!"

The man with the silver-rimmed glasses muttered, "Did Mr. Adams plant a bomb in his bar and really scare him...? This guy's ready to fight to the death!"

Monk Rothstein scoffed, “The net may break, but the fish won’t die… Didn’t you notice? He’s coming for us! Just like when we dealt with the Stone kids, he’s showing off to Mr. Adams!”

The man with the silver-rimmed glasses remained silent, lost in thought.

Monk Rosstein turned and asked, "Haven't you heard from Mr. Adams yet?"

The man with the silver-rimmed glasses scoffed. "He's in Congress, and the meeting probably won't end until 2 p.m.... Besides, what can you expect from him? They own a huge stake in American Sugar, and he'd love for American Sugar stock to skyrocket..."

Monk Rothstein stared out the office window in silence for a long time. After a while, as if making a decision, he suddenly turned to the man with the silver-rimmed glasses and said…

How much cash do we have on hand right now?

The man with the silver-rimmed glasses paused for a moment, then said, "Cash, gold, and all the securities—it adds up to at least $60."

"Take them all! We're leaving in five minutes..." Monk Rothstein waved his hand, his face contorted with a resolute grimace. "It seems we have no choice but to visit him. Only he can possibly solve this problem for us... There's no one else in all of America who can help us..."

The man with the silver-rimmed glasses paused for a moment, then walked out of the room without hesitation, ordering his men to retrieve all the cash and securities from headquarters and prepare a carriage.

After making the arrangements, the man with the silver-rimmed glasses returned to his office and asked Monk Rostan, "Monk, who did you say you were looking for?"

Monk Rothstein lowered his head and thought for a few seconds before answering, "The greatest stock trader in the world today—James Keane!"
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At 12:15 p.m., two horse-drawn carriages stopped in front of a gray office building on Wall Street in New York.

Monk Rothstein flung open the carriage door, jumped down, tucked his cane under his arm, and waved to the people inside, shouting, "Hurry up! You all better hurry up!"

Soon after, four men carrying boxes jumped off the carriage and followed closely behind Monk Rostan as they entered the office building.

Ascending the red maple wood staircase, the group of five soon arrived at the office area on the second floor.

The armed security guard at the entrance saw a group of people rushing towards them aggressively and quickly raised his hand to signal them to stop.

A man who looked like a butler stepped forward, frowning as he looked at the five men in black suits. His expression was grave as he asked seriously,

"Gentlemen! What can I do for you?" Monk Rostan, devoid of his usual arrogance, smiled ingratiatingly, removed his top hat, and politely asked.

"Please inform Mr. Keane that Mr. Adams's men are requesting an audience!"

Upon hearing Mr. Adams' name, the butler's face turned serious, and he specifically asked, "Is it Mr. Adams from Boston?"

Monk Rosstein nodded in reply, "Yes!"

The Adams family is the largest political family in the United States and is known as the "first royal family" of the country.

Samuel Adams, the ancestor of John Adams, personally participated in the initiation and organization of the Revolutionary War. His cousin, John Adams, was the first Vice President and the second President of the United States. Furthermore, John Adams' son, John Quincy Adams, became the sixth President of the United States.

Among the old money in Boston, the Adams family is the most famous, and they are also the leaders of the entire Boston financial group.

The current head of the Adams family is Charles Francis Adams II, a well-known American billionaire and politician.

Upon hearing that the other party was one of Mr. Adams's men, the butler hurriedly went to his office to inform his master. Three minutes later, the butler came out and gestured to the five men.

"Sir, please come in!"

Monk Rosstein gestured to his men, and a group of them entered the office one after another.

But this was a suite, and outside sat a secretary responsible for relaying messages and answering the phone, as well as two security personnel.

Monk Rosstein waved for his men to stay put, took two steps forward, took a deep breath, tapped his fingers twice, and said softly,
“Mr. Keane, we are Senator Adams’s men and we need your help. May I come in and speak with you privately?”

"Come in!" a voice came from inside the door.

Monk Rosstein carefully turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. Inside a tall office with a 3-meter-high ceiling, a tall, thin man with graying temples stood in the middle of the office, looking straight at the paper tape on the quotation machine.

The tall, thin man's stock quote machine was also quite special. It was a stock quote machine with a brass casing, which was specially installed on a wall frame 2.5 meters above the ground. The paper tapes that the machine spewed out cascaded down onto the mahogany desk like a waterfall.

Apart from the quotation machine, the desk, and the dark Persian carpet on the floor, there was nothing else in this spacious office.

Monk Rosstein even noticed at a glance the two distinct parallel dents left on the carpet by the tall, thin man's frequent pacing.

For some reason, Monk Rostan, a gang leader who had come through countless battles, suddenly hesitated when facing the tall, thin man.

Only after the butler coughed lightly behind him did he step into the office, bow deeply to the tall, thin man's back, and say, "It is an honor to visit you, Mr. Keane! My master needs your help with something."

The tall, thin man suddenly turned around, his eyes like those of a hawk. He glanced at the person who had spoken and then smiled.
"You are not Mr. Adams's subordinate, you are Monk Rothstein!"

Monk Rosstein paused, looked up, and asked, "How do you know my name?"

The tall, thin man gave a faint smile. "I saw you once back when you were fighting for territory in Brooklyn... It's been almost 20 years! I heard you're doing better and better now, so why are you saying you're Mr. Adams's man?"

Monk Rothstein was stunned, thinking to himself, "People say James Keane has a photographic memory. Could it be that he really remembered me after just one glance from over a decade ago?"

However, this surprise was only momentary. Monk Rosstein, with a smile on his face, bowed again and said...
“I am indeed working for Mr. Adams right now. Besides, I wouldn’t dare bother you if it weren’t for an emergency.”

"Is it about stocks?" the other person asked.

Monk Rothstein nodded and said respectfully, "Mr. James Keane, you are the greatest trader of our time. Only you can solve the problems we are facing..."

As he spoke, Monk Rothstein opened the door and had four of his men carry in the briefcase. He opened the briefcase in front of Mr. Keane, then turned it around to reveal its contents to Mr. Keane…

The four suitcases were filled with stacks of US dollars, gold coins, various bonds, and other securities.

James Keane frowned, waved his hand dismissively, and said, "Tell me what you want me to do first!"

"American Sugar! Sir, if you can drive down the stock price, all this money is yours!"

James Keane scoffed and said curtly, "I'm not taking this job!"

"Why?!" Monk Rosstein asked.

James Keane stared at him, his eyelids drooping noticeably, forming a sharp triangular crease. When his gaze fixed on Monk Rothstein's face, the latter immediately felt uncomfortable...

After a few seconds, James Keane slowly said, "Because I was the one who was in charge of this stock... 3% of the rise in U.S. sugar stocks that you can see today was bought by me."

(End of this chapter)