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

Chapter 141 The Gaze of the Superior
Saturday, April 2.

The cold fog, carrying the moisture of the Potomac River, soaked the bricks of Pennsylvania Avenue.

At 5:30 a.m., gaslight was already shining from the second-floor window of a red-brick apartment building on 17th Street.

Theodore Roosevelt threw off the heavy wool blanket and sat up in bed. He didn't like wearing pajamas, and the cold air made his bare upper body instantly tense up like a taut bow.

As a teenager, Roosevelt suffered from asthma, which not only caused him to have a sunken sternum, but also a slight convexity left by early respiratory spasms.

However, he did not succumb to the torment of his illness. Theodore Roosevelt had heard from the older generation that exercise could cure asthma and strengthen the body to forge an iron will, so Theodore Roosevelt trained hard every day. In addition to running, he was proficient in boxing, horseback riding, and wilderness hunting.

So the Roosevelt of today, though his ribs are as clearly defined as a fence, has tendons that are as gnarled and twisted as the roots of an old oak tree.

Theodore Roosevelt walked shirtless into the bathroom, turned on the gas light, closed the bathroom door, moved around for a while until his body warmed up, and then took a bucket of ice-cold water and poured it over his head!

When the cold water stimulated his skin, he let out a low growl that was half pain and half pleasure.

Theodore Roosevelt looked at himself in the mirror, water rolling down his chestnut-brown curly hair, his mustache stiff and upturned like badger hair, revealing a classical beauty.

"A good person needs to be in good health, otherwise how can they deal with bad people!"

Theodore Roosevelt smiled at his reflection in the mirror, grabbed a towel, and began to scrub his body vigorously until it turned red. Only then did he take a dry towel and wipe the water off his body.

At 6:10, Roosevelt, wearing metal-framed glasses and his three-piece pinstripe suit, walked out of the apartment.

The moment he pushed open the oak door of the apartment, the still very cold early spring wind rushed into the corridor, and Roosevelt took a breath, his chest heaving like a bellows—as if he were savoring the taste of freedom.

Stepping out of the apartment building, Roosevelt did not choose to take a carriage, but instead strode towards the U.S. Civil Service Commission located in the Federal Building, carrying his cane.

In fact, his apartment was a full nine blocks from the Federal Building, but Roosevelt deliberately rented it there so he could exercise on his way in the mornings. Roosevelt walked quickly, his cane not for support, but rather like a weapon he carried at any moment, ready for a fight. The tip of the cane occasionally struck the stone ground, producing a dull thud.

A housewife wearing an apron had just pushed open the bakery door when she was nearly knocked over by this "human hurricane." By the time she came to her senses, the owner of the loud apologetic voice was already ten yards away.

As Roosevelt passed a newsstand, he noticed there were new newspapers there. He took out a five-cent coin, tossed it to the young man who was still busy carrying newspapers, and then picked up the Washington Sun and read it as he walked.

The front-page headline was very eye-catching: "Assassination of Senator Kennedy solved, killer brought to justice!"
Roosevelt raised his eyebrows, then simply stood on the street corner and began to read the newspaper.

The content of this report is actually quite bizarre. It says that because of rampant gang activity in the Boston Harbor, Monk Rothstein, the leader of the Rothstein gang, harbored resentment towards the righteous Massachusetts Senator John F. Kennedy. So he set a trap and plotted to assassinate Senator Kennedy on Wednesday morning.

Fortunately, the senator had brave bodyguards protecting him, otherwise the Rothschild gang would have succeeded.

On Wednesday night, a private investigator who had been tracking the killer's movements, along with police, discovered the hideout of Monk Rothstein's gang. The private investigator was spotted by the gang while attempting to gather information. A shootout ensued between police and the gang.

After a fierce gunfight, Monk Rothstein, the leader of the Rothstein Gang, the most notorious gang on the East Coast of the United States, was shot multiple times and executed.

Roosevelt frowned after reading the report. On Wednesday afternoon, he sat in Mr. Adams' carriage and did not go up to make a presumptuous visit to Congressman Kennedy. However, according to Mr. Adams, Mr. Kennedy was not as righteous as the newspapers portrayed him to be, but rather involved with gangs.

However, the leader of the Rostan gang is dead, that much is certain.

Although Roosevelt wasn't exactly a seasoned veteran, his family background in education and his own extensive reading of history and politics meant he knew not to be swayed by one side. He wouldn't easily believe Mr. Adams or the exaggerated portrayals of Kennedy in the newspapers.

The rest of the newspaper was filled with local news, such as Congress passing the bill to abolish sugar amnesty, which would cause sugar prices to soar; and Democratic presidential candidates attacking Republicans for condoning state governments' suppression of workers' petitions, and so on.

Roosevelt turned to the next page, where there was another article related to Boston: the Boston Police Department was cracking down on illegal gambling dens in the area and had shut down one of the largest chain gambling dens in New England, uncovering numerous members of the Rothschild gang. The police had already imprisoned those gang members, who would await a just trial by a judge.

Roosevelt glanced at the newspaper and, finding no other news, neatly folded it and placed it on the balcony of a shop facing the street. He then strode on towards the Federal Building.

On the way, Roosevelt's mind was still replaying the news from the newspaper, especially the remarks by Democratic presidential candidate Cleveland accusing Republican governor of favoring steel magnate Carnegie.

Although Theodore Roosevelt was a Republican, he deeply disliked big capitalists, or rather, monopoly trusts, who exploited workers. When news of the New Holmesburg massacre first broke, Roosevelt initially thought it was a journalistic attack, but after investigating, he discovered that the actual situation was far more serious and egregious than the news reports suggested.

Roosevelt felt a tightness in his chest whenever he thought about how the workers were being exploited by these cold-blooded capitalists in a seemingly legitimate way!
"Sooner or later, they'll get their comeuppance!" Roosevelt muttered under his breath.

After walking for a while, Theodore Roosevelt remembered the price explosion in the American sugar industry due to the cancellation of the tariff exemption for American sugar! This was also the group of people Roosevelt hated the most: those who did not engage in production but only speculated in stocks or hoarded and manipulated futures and spot markets.

Roosevelt was furious when he thought that ordinary Americans couldn't even afford a cup of coffee with sugar, while those who speculated in stocks were making a fortune.

Roosevelt secretly vowed that if he ever became an official in a regulatory agency, he would definitely go to great lengths to punish those damned stock speculators!
At 7:00 a.m. sharp, Roosevelt entered the Federal Building, went to his office, and began to immerse himself in the preparations for his work.

Half an hour later, his secretary arrived... Seeing his superior personally organizing the documents, the secretary couldn't hold back and hurriedly started organizing the documents for Mr. Roosevelt.

Finally, the secretary came in with an official letter and respectfully said to his superior, "Mr. Roosevelt, you have an opportunity to exchange and learn from the departments of state affairs. Where would you like to go?"

Roosevelt frowned, suddenly remembering the morning paper and Mr. Adams's incessant complaints about the immigrants in Boston on Wednesday night...

Roosevelt looked up at his secretary and said, "Tell them I plan to visit the Boston Police Department for a study tour. I'll be leaving early next month. Make the arrangements!"

.

Meanwhile, James Keane was sitting at his desk below his quote machine, drinking red tea and reading the newspaper.

He also saw the news in the newspaper that Monk Rostan, the leader of the Rostan gang, had died.

Keane nodded, a slight smile appearing on his face, picked up the black tea, and took a small sip.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Please come in!"

Keane glanced past the newspaper toward the door and saw that his trading team had arrived at the office early. After greeting Mr. Keane, they went into the trading and telegraph cubicle to prepare today's stock market news briefing and check whether the quotation machine and the trading caller were in good working order.

Keane ignored them and continued reading his newspaper.

Not long after, someone knocked on the door again.

Keane looked up and saw that it was his butler, who walked in with Quincy, his floor trader at the New York Stock Exchange.

Quincy still sports his signature slicked-back hair and that smug smile.

Upon seeing James Keane, Quincy slightly removed his hat in a gesture of respect and said with a smile, "Mr. Keane, I've found the information you asked me to investigate..."

"Oh? Is it about that trader who placed an order at $110 in the US sugar market?" Mr. Keane took off his glasses and asked seriously.

Quincy replied solemnly, “Yes, sir! The floor trader at the time was from Reading Securities. I later asked my friends at Reading to find out that the limit order placed at $110 came from the Boston branch, specifically from an account named Larry Livingston.”

“Larry Livingston? Never heard of that name before…” Keane muttered to himself.

He thought to himself that since even someone with a photographic memory like himself had never heard of this name, it probably wasn't anyone important, and it might all just be a coincidence.

However, Quincy's next words startled Keane.

"My friend's information indicates that the guy named Larry Livingston is only 14 years old. He put in more than $2 of his own money to speculate on the US sugar industry that day, and made $11 in the morning. After selling before the market closed, he bought back in at $110 in the afternoon and sold again before the market closed that day... His total profit for the day exceeded $50!"

"Cough cough..."

Keane was drinking water and almost choked when he heard this.

He slammed the teacup down on the table, frowned in thought, and looked displeased.

The butler knew that his master was good in every way—shrewd, decisive, and hardworking—but he had only one major flaw: he was extremely petty and vindictive.

The butler coughed lightly and said softly, "Mr. Keane, perhaps this is just a lucky little trader, you don't need to take it to heart. Besides, Monk Rothstein is dead... let's just leave it at that, you don't need to waste your time on this sugar stock anymore!"

Keane stood up, walked to the window, gazed at the scenery outside, and waited for a full three minutes before turning back and resolutely saying,
"No! There shouldn't be someone like that in Boston. Quincy, have your friend keep an eye on him. Let me know if he places another order, and I'll give him a little stock market shock!"

“Yes, sir!” Quincy nodded emphatically.
.
Meanwhile, in Boston.

Larry Livingston didn't stretch and sit up in bed until 7:40. He wasn't going to work today; instead, he was going to take the Browning brothers to Walden Pond to find the address of the gun company, as they had agreed beforehand.

Larry rubbed his eyes, and just as he was about to reach for his pocket watch to check the time, he suddenly felt a tingling sensation in his nose, and then he sneezed seven times in a row, "Achoo! Achoo!"

Larry was stunned after sneezing, thinking to himself, how could I have caught a cold and sneezed so early in the morning without even getting out of bed?
very strange!

(End of this chapter)