Eh? You want to try the humanoid girl's iron fist too?

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“Correct,” Raphael began his sermon: “Nassim Taleb describes it as an outlier with extreme influence.”

Pascal argues that the rudiments of economic globalization can be traced back to the Silk Road—the exchanges between the Han Dynasty and Rome, and even earlier, the trade between Mesopotamia and the Indus River Valley.

However, it developed rapidly starting in the 20th century, accelerated after World War II, and the blockchain communication network and decentralized banking, which emerged fifty years ago, further propelled the spread of economic exchange networks.

“I don’t quite understand what you mean,” Pascal frowned slightly.

"This is a prerequisite. Once this prerequisite is met, when you have the power to actively induce black swan events, such as providing armed and intelligence support to organizations that launch large-scale terrorist attacks to disrupt the supply chain, then a coalition of elites can seize the opportunity to gain more power."

“Speak like a human being,” Pascal repeated angrily.

"I'll give it a try."

Raphael wore a confident smile. But for some reason, after exchanging a glance, Pascal and HK416 still had a very bad feeling.

The global derivatives market is several times larger than the underlying assets it tracks.

Swaps, options, futures, and other instruments can be used to buy or sell anything at any price at any time in the future…

“Commander!” HK416’s hand clenched tightly under the table.

“Hmph…you’re really ignorant,” Raphael said. “Instead of buying oil, you should speculate on oil futures—that is, the obligation to buy oil at a set price on a future date. If the price of oil rises, you make a profit; if it falls, you lose money.”

Furthermore, trading with derivatives only requires paying a partial margin to the broker. This is considered a down payment, but it significantly amplifies profits and losses. The risk is extremely high, but the potential for huge profits is immense—like that bad horse. If the outcome can be manipulated, there is no risk. Just find a market maker who can secretly manipulate the market.

Of course, there have been failures in history as well.

The most famous example is the Hunt brothers' silver manipulation case of 1979-1980. They first hoarded one-third of the world's physical silver, while simultaneously going long on futures contracts to squeeze out short sellers.

However, the Federal Reserve's change to margin rules caused their funding chain to break, silver prices plummeted by 50% in a single day, and the Hunt brothers went bankrupt.

"After all that talk, you mean that only after having enough power and wealth can one become a manipulator operating in the shadows."

"More importantly, they can diversify their funds globally and then use carefully selected encrypted blockchain technology to reduce the risk of being traced. Thus, the theoretical untraceability of cash flow is achieved."

“Anonymity is key,” Pascal nodded.

HK416 recalled the jobs 404 had previously taken on, and kept the entire process anonymous and silent.

"You two both know how to resell, right? Buy low and sell high."

The two nodded again.

"When this most basic concept enters the futures derivatives contract market, it becomes the core of wealth transfer across generations."

The two who had nodded earlier now looked completely bewildered.

"What you are buying and selling are paper contracts, betting on the value of a commodity on a future date. If the price rises, you can sell the contract even before the expiration date."

But you never actually handle or own the actual oil, gold, wheat, etc.; you only buy and sell contracts. With proper manipulation, you can profit billions.

“The premise is that we can foresee the future,” HK416 said.

Raphael reiterated: "If you can foresee the future, you can first hoard goods to drive up spot prices, go long on futures contracts, release reserves to lower prices, and then short futures contracts to reap profits from both sides. Take Russia and Ukraine as an example: after a black swan event that you artificially created, you dump your goods on the market when you need to lift sanctions."

Let me sort it out.

Pascal activates his financial brain, which he hasn't used for years.

"The first round was sanctions, and the Russians sold their inventory to partners for high-priced futures to make money because they knew the oil price but couldn't sell the oil for profit. But that didn't matter—the contract was already set, and the sanctions were cleverly circumvented when settling with their partners."

The second round involves betting on futures contracts, because they control the outcome and know that prices will continue to rise.

The third round involved signing futures contracts at market peaks, with the intention of dumping oil and betting on a price drop, selling the right to buy oil at that price in the future. Because they controlled oil and the war situation, they could manipulate the timing of sanctions lifting, dumping oil to drive down forward prices, rendering their contracts worthless to buyers.

“But all the profits went to them,” HK416 commented.

"That's the nature of it. They knew when they signed the futures contracts that they could sell off reserves and drive down prices at any time, because buying and selling futures is essentially making assumptions about the future, and it's hard to guarantee accuracy—unless you manipulate the market."

"Knowing that the war will lead to an oil shortage, of course one should place long contracts when stockpiling oil—a sure win every time."

“I understand,” Pascal said. “If you invest in wheat futures but don’t know the future, and there’s a bumper year with good weather leading to a price drop, you could lose a lot of money. But if there’s a disaster year, the crops are destroyed by nature, or there’s a war on Europe’s breadbasket, you can turn millions into hundreds of millions, billions into tens of billions, right?”

“They learn quickly,” Raphael said. “If you can create black swan events, you can manipulate the market.”

She stared at Pascal and said in a low voice, "You've definitely never been to a supermarket."

“They all deliver to your door,” Pascal replied immediately.

"Global wheat supply has decreased by 20%, and the Black Sea route has been disrupted again. The rich have become richer. Thus, a simple and brutal answer emerges: money equals power, and the more money you have, the more power you have."

Pascal pressed further, "Why are you targeting me?"

“To ensure the next black swan event is not affected, Pascal,” Raphael asserted. “Since they know that we know they have formed a tacitly approved alliance of officials, financiers, businessmen, and politicians, they may not be able to control Europe or the world, but in Germany they are powerful enough.”

"How can we stop it?" HK416 asked.

"The German Reconstruction Opportunity Fund (DWCF) is a fund that introduces private capital to participate in reconstruction while trying to maintain control over key areas. The management team comes from diverse backgrounds, including former military technocrats, bankers, and retired government officials. Ask them, and you'll get all sorts of results."

"Commander, what's the most recent commission you've issued?"

"It's to purify the surrounding environment," Raphael told her bluntly. "I won't allow any hybrids to appear."

"So what is your goal?"

“Vedak Vorhovacs”.

"How do we find him?"

"Coincidentally, early next month, he will be going to the West Berlin border guard post to attend the signing ceremony for the 400 million euro Berlin Yellow Zone cleanup and perimeter wall expansion project."

Raphael connected the fax machine, and Vidak's half-body photo slowly appeared. Then, she used a magnet to attach it to the whiteboard and connected the crime syndicate leader to him with a double arrow.

"That's the goal."

Volume 5 Dancing in Shackles: Chapter 48 Hello, Mr. Flöhwatz

Frankfurt, eastern suburbs, the Stasi headquarters building that was put into use four years ago.

Adrian von Habsburg sat in his imposing black leather chair, his back to the thick bulletproof glass window.

This glass pane allows the deputy director to overlook his territory at the National Security Agency headquarters.

He spun around in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the treetops outside the window. In the distance, car headlights flashed by on the highway, like shooting stars streaking across the night sky.

Under the cover of night, the building resembled a silent fortress.

The shadows of the trees swayed in the breeze, blocking most of the lights, leaving only a few cold rays of light leaking from the building's windows.

Headquartered in a dense woodland near the A661 highway ring road east of Frankfurt, it is sometimes called "the forest," while those who live in the shadows call it "the Grand Hotel."

It's perfectly normal for an intelligence agency built on the worship of the Cheka to have such an ironic name.

Upon entering the main building's foyer, one can immediately see the portrait painting hanging on the wall—Felix Edmundovich Dzerzhinsky, the founder of the Cheka—without needing to adjust their gaze.

The oil painting hangs in the center, its frame gilded, and Dzerzhinsky's gaze is cold and aloof, as if it can penetrate the hearts of every passerby.

The lobby floor was marble, polished to a shine, and footsteps echoed in the spacious room.

Despite a century of trials and tribulations, its core mission has remained unchanged: to protect the motherland from threats.

Over the past 20 years, the Security Bureau has more than doubled in size.

Before the war ended, this place was a wasteland with only a few abandoned factory buildings and overgrown open spaces.

Now, the office buildings have sprung up, occupying a vast area and heavily guarded.

Adrian von Habsburg's office was located at the top of the complex, on the tenth floor.

The ground floor is far from the hustle and bustle, and is quite far from the government departments that handle routine administrative affairs.

His window faces the woodland, overlooking the entire area, like a king surveying his domain.

All of the previous owner's personal belongings had been cleared out, but the lingering smell of cigarette smoke remained. Even with brand new desks and chairs, the musty smell of tobacco still haunted the office like a ghost.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table, which held an old-fashioned telephone, several folders, and a pen for signing documents.

The phone on the desk beeped, and the secretary transferred the call to someone outside the door.

"explain."

"A call from Leipzig, Director." The secretary omitted the word "Deputy" from "Deputy Director," speaking respectfully.

"Bring them in."

Although this is the building where the National Security Agency's Special Communications Bureau uses its resources to ensure communications security, in this day and age, it is best to assume that all calls are being monitored at one end or in multiple locations.

He glanced down at the encrypted phone on the table; the green light was on, indicating that the line was temporarily secure.

External security or internal security?

Unable to make a decisive judgment.

Since he can extend his tentacles over there, the other side can extend theirs over there too. Leipzig is different from other parts of Germany.

“It seems to be a serious matter,” he said into the microphone.

“Otherwise, this call wouldn’t have happened,” the other party replied.

"Speak the key."

"The task you assigned me."

The other person paused for a moment, as if considering their words.

"..."

"The plan has gone astray."

"continue."