The richest man started taking advantage of loopholes after joining Alibaba.

Manhattan.

Sequoia Capital headquarters, 42nd floor.

The air in the conference room was thick and sticky.

"15% off".

Mark Stevens toyed with the Montblanc pen and casually uttered a number.

It's like buying a rotten cabbage at the market.

Lin Che's hand froze in mid-air.

My fingertips were only one centimeter away from the "Asset Transfer Agreement".

"Mr. Mark."

Lin Che's voice trembled.

It wasn't an act.

He really wanted to laugh, but he had to control himself.

"What they said on the phone yesterday... was a 10% discount."

"That was yesterday's price."

Mark shrugged.

Behind him stood six top lawyers, like a row of vultures in Armani suits.

"Lin, take a look at the news."

Mark pressed the remote control.

The television screen on the wall lit up.

A CNBC host is passionately analyzing the latest geopolitical risks: "As May 15th approaches, the White House is intensifying its scrutiny of Chinese technology companies like never before..."

"The market is in a state of panic."

Mark spread his hands.

He looked completely innocent.

"We have to take on huge compliance risks, and 15% off is the bottom line that Sequoia can offer."

"If you don't sign."

The chief lawyer, who wore gold-rimmed glasses, stepped forward and closed the folder.

It made a dull "snap".

"The door is over there."

Dead silence.

The air conditioner vents made a hissing sound, like a snake's tongue.

Lin Che stared at the contract.

15% off.

The original $4.5 million worth of high-quality assets evaporated by nearly $7000 million in an instant.

Any normal businessman would have flipped the table at this moment.

Lin Che suddenly stood up.

The chair screeched as it scraped across the floor.

"This is robbery!"

He grabbed the pen in front of him and slammed it to the ground.

"Snapped!"

The pen broke.

The ink splattered on the expensive Persian carpet looked like a drop of black blood.

Mark didn't even lift his eyelids.

He simply looked at Lin Che quietly, a hint of amusement even playing on his lips.

That's the look in a hunter's eyes when he sees his prey making its final struggle in the trap.

"Have you vented?"

Mark asked casually.

"Lin, I know you're in a hurry to return to China to put out the fire, but your creditors back home don't have as much patience as I do."

"I'm not selling it anymore!"

Lin Che gritted his teeth, his eyes red-rimmed.

He turned and left.

step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

He counted silently in his mind.

As he reached the door, he grasped the doorknob.

There was no sound behind me.

There was no attempt to persuade them to stay.

This was a psychological game. Mark was convinced he had no way out.

The veins on the back of Lin Che's hand bulged.

He stood there for a full five seconds.

Those five seconds felt like watching a wonderful silent film to everyone else in the conference room.

finally.

That hand loosened its grip on the doorknob.

Lin Che turned around.

Like a person whose spine has been removed, he dragged his heavy steps back to the table.

"Pen."

He said in a hoarse voice.

Mark's secretary handed him a new pen.

Lin Che took the pen.

My hands are still shaking.

He signed his name next to the "15% discount" clause.

Every stroke felt like it was carved into one's own bones.

"That's right."

Mark smiled.

He stood up and patted Lin Che on the shoulder.

"Lin, don't feel wronged. On Wall Street, the ones who can leave with cash are the winners."

Lin Che didn't speak.

He looked down at the signature.

In his heart, he was applauding Mark.

wonderful.

That was absolutely amazing.

If I hadn't known that these stocks would be halved in value three days later due to the "Entity List," I might have really felt bad about losing 7000 million.

but now……

Thank you for the 15% discount, Mark.

You just spent $3.8 million to buy a bunch of bombs that will soon become worthless.

……

Ten minutes later.

Funds settlement.

This was a rapid-fire battle of plunder and counter-plunder.

As the bank's confirmation sounded, $3.825 million in cash was transferred from Sequoia Capital's account to Microlight Technology's offshore account.

Mark breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the successful transfer notification on the screen.

Those Nvidia and Apple stocks now belong to him.

Once the political turmoil subsides in a few months, these assets should bring him at least a 30% return.

This was a perfect bottom-fishing move.

"alright."

Mark was in a great mood and reached out his hand.

"Lin, although the process was a bit unpleasant, business is business."

Lin Che sat opposite him.

A black ThinkPad was placed in front of me.

His fingers flew across the keyboard.

He completely ignored Mark's outstretched hand.

"Hold on."

Lin Che didn't even look up.

"I'm processing a transfer."

"Back to China?"

Mark withdrew his hand, not embarrassed, and took a sip of his coffee.

"As you know, foreign exchange controls have been very strict lately..."

"No."

Lin Che pressed the last Enter key.

A line of green code flashed on the screen.

That was a complex route taken through a three-shell company.

First floor, Singapore.

The second layer, Bermuda.

The third floor...

Cayman Islands.

A secret account called "Ark Fund" was instantly filled with a huge amount of money.

This money is not for "going back to China to put out fires" at all.

These are bullets.

It's the fuse that will detonate a nuclear bomb on Wall Street next.

"alright."

Lin Che closed his laptop.

Remove the dongle and put it in your inner pocket.

He stood up.

The dejection and anger on his face vanished without a trace in that instant.

Instead, there was a calm that was hard to understand.

It's like a bottomless pool of stagnant water.

"Mr. Mark."

Lin Che looked at Mark.

Reach out.

"It's a pleasure working with you."

Mark paused for a moment.

He suddenly felt that something was wrong.

Where did that irritable, desperate, and cornered young man go?

The person in front of me had eyes as cold as ice.

"...It's a pleasure working with you."

Mark hesitated before taking the hand.

It's cold.

dry.

There wasn't a trace of sweat on him.

"Lin, tell the truth."

Mark loosened his grip, attempting to regain control of the game.

"The American Dream isn't for you. The rules here are too harsh; it's not for someone who lets their emotions get the better of them."

"yes."

Lin Che picked up his briefcase.

I straightened my collar.

Her movements were as elegant as if she were attending a banquet.

"Sometimes, waking up too late from a nightmare is also a sin."

"What do you mean?"

Mark frowned.

"It's nothing."

Lin Che smiled.

The smile was faint.

But it sent a chill down Mark’s spine.

"I just wanted to remind you."

Lin Che walked to the door and stopped.

Look back.

I glanced out the window at the bustling Manhattan skyline.

"The weather has been nice these past few days. Perfect for sightseeing."

"But it's also suitable for... jumping off a building."

Done.

The door closed.

Mark was left standing there, his brow furrowed.

"madman."

Mark cursed.

He turned and looked out the window.

The sun shines brightly, and the stock market continues its upward trend.

Where are the signs that someone is about to jump off the building?

……

downstairs.

The clamor of Wall Street instantly overwhelmed Lin Che.

The aroma of hot dog stands, the exclamations of tourists, and that pervasive, restless, and greedy atmosphere.

Lin Che stood by the roadside.

I took a deep breath.

That's the smell of free air.

It also has the feel of a killing battlefield.

He raised his head.

Looking at the towering Sequoia Capital building.

On that reflective glass curtain wall, he seemed to see countless distorted numbers jumping around.

That was the Tower of Babel, which was about to collapse in three days.

He touched the Bluetooth earpiece on his ear.

Press the call button.

His expression froze completely at that moment.

Gone was the humility and anger from before.

There is only a divine indifference.

"I am Lin Che."

He spoke softly into the microphone.

The sound traveled through the radio waves, reaching a secret hideout several blocks away.

"The money has arrived."

"Activate Plan B."

"Target: Nasdaq 100 Index."

"Direction: Go all in, short."

"besides."

Lin Che paused.

I glanced at the bronze bull that had been polished to a shine by tourists.

A bloodthirsty glint flashed in his eyes.

"Increase leverage by five times."

"I want Mark to know."

"What is...the real hell?"