After I stopped trying, a rich woman trained me into a demon emperor.

Jiangcheng Financial Center, press conference hall.

The air was so murky and sticky.

Hundreds of people were crammed into the enclosed space like sardines in a can.

The expensive cologne couldn't mask the stench of sweat seeping from under his armpits, mixed with the hot, pungent smell of paper just expelled from the printer drum, which wafted straight into his nose.

On the giant LED screen directly in front, two ghastly green curves plunged into the abyss like a precipice.

Those are the stock prices of Xiao's Group and Chen's Building Materials.

The number of sealed orders was astonishing; those were tombstones piled up with hundreds of billions of real money.

Have you heard?

Old Xiao passed away last night, and Chen Guodong was hacked to pieces. Now both families are just empty shells.

"Tsk, two beautiful widows trying to save face, how pathetic."

"Pitiful my foot!"

The one who's really in charge is that pretty boy surnamed Zhou.

I heard she used to sell classes at a gym. Isn't she afraid of choking on her own money?

The whispers below the stage coalesced into a restless buzz, as if waiting to devour the carrion.

Chen Ya stood in the shadow of the curtain, her neatly trimmed nails digging deep into the tender flesh of her palms.

She specially changed into a pure black suit, her makeup was cold and sharp, like a black rose with thorns.

But looking at the alarming numbers on the big screen, her eyes still twitched nervously twice.

This is no business war.

This was a public execution.

"Scared?"

A man's voice came from behind me, steady and without any discernible emotion.

Chen Ya turned around.

Zhou Ran wore a well-tailored dark gray suit with broad shoulders and a narrow waist.

That ferocity that emanated from his very bones gave his refined appearance the feel of armor.

"Of the 500 media outlets outside, at least half are hired guns arranged by the Song family."

Chen Ya straightened his tie, her fingertips icy cold.

"The moment you open your mouth, they'll pounce on you like mad dogs and tear you to pieces."

Zhou Ran took her hand in return.

"Since it's a funeral, someone has to lie in the coffin."

He let go of her hand and pushed the door open to go out.

The noise in the hall abruptly stopped the moment Zhou Ran appeared.

Then came the sound of a camera shutter.

Click, click, click.

The continuous barrage of spotlights illuminated the hall in a stark white light, like countless bolts of lightning striking down simultaneously.

Zhou Ran walked slowly on the marble floor tiles.

However, his butt hadn't even touched the chair yet.

In the very middle of the first row, a man wearing gold-rimmed glasses jumped up.

The microphone was thrust straight at him, almost into his mouth.

Mr. Zhou!

As a "special advisor" to both companies, please explain the current collapse in trust!

The man spoke extremely fast, his spittle almost splashing onto Zhou Ran's face.

"There are rumors that you used improper relationships to rise to power and illegally seized assets, causing the elders to turn against you. Is this true?"

Are you trying to exploit someone who has no descendants?

This question is sharp and tricky.

They directly labeled Zhou Ran as a "femme fatale," a "gold digger," and a "fraudster."

Zhou Ran stopped in his tracks.

Turn your head to the side.

Her purplish-gold pupils shifted slightly, locking onto the man.

This person had a wisp of musty, grayish aura around his head; he was a typical example of someone who would do something for money.

Little did he know that the Song family's money was not so easy to take.

Within three days, this person will die without a burial place.

"What's your name?"

Zhou Ran spoke up.

The volume wasn't loud, and there was no amplifier, yet it made the eardrums of several people in the front row bulge.

The man with gold-rimmed glasses straightened his chest forcefully:

"I am the chief reporter of Wealth Magazine, and I have the right—"

Snapped!

A loud bang.

No one even saw whether Zhou Ran raised his hand.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses flew sideways.

He spun around in the air two and a half times before his back slammed into the speaker, making the several-hundred-pound enclosure wobble precariously.

When he landed, half of his face was swollen, shattered lenses were embedded in his flesh, and his face was covered in blood.

The hall was completely silent.

The only sound was the buzzing of electricity passing through the microphone.

The chat in the live stream paused for a second, then went on a frenzy, almost crashing the server.

"They...they hit someone?!"

Several security guards behind them reacted and were about to rush onto the stage.

Zhou Ran slightly raised her eyelids.

hum-

The pressure of the Foundation Establishment stage cultivator's divine sense crashed down without reservation, enveloping the entire hall.

The burly security guards' knees buckled, as if their spines had been removed, and with a few thuds, they knelt down in a neat row.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through their uniforms, making it impossible for them to even lift their heads.

Zhou Ran walked up to the reporter who looked like a dead dog.

He lifted his foot, and the sole of his leather shoe ground against his chest.

"I'm here to inform you."

Zhou Ran scanned the entire scene, and wherever his gaze fell, those long guns and short cannons seemed to shrink back like startled quails.

"I'm not here to explain to you."

"How much dog food did the Song family give you to make you bark like this?"

If you want to see the Xiao family go bankrupt, you'd better get lost.

"On my turf, I can take what others have, and no one has the right to touch me."

He pushed off with his feet, and the reporter let out a bloodcurdling scream like a pig being slaughtered.

Zhou Ran loosened his grip and walked straight to the front of the podium.

On the table was the PR statement that Chen Ya had prepared for him.

In his eyes, it was just a few dozen pages of nonsense.

hiss-

Zhou Ran didn't even glance at it, grabbed the manuscript, tore it to shreds, and tossed it away casually.

"Now, let's talk about the stock price."

Zhou Ran braced himself on the podium with both hands, leaning forward with an aggressive air.

"Many people say I'm just a lousy course seller who doesn't understand finance."

He chuckled and pointed to the large screen behind him.

"Xiao's stock price hit the daily limit down, at 14.5 yuan."

The Song family, in league with three groups of speculative capital in Beijing, pooled together 30 billion yuan, planning to forcibly liquidate my positions when the price fell below the collateral threshold, leaving me completely wiped out.

Am I right?

Below the stage, several senior executives of the Song Group, who were mixed in with the crowd, looked pale.

This is a core secret of the Song family. Even the traders had their phones confiscated. How did this kid know it down to the last decimal point?

"The script is well written."

"Creating panic, inducing retail investors to sell at a loss, and then triggering the debt crisis of Jinghong Construction."

Zhou Ran raised his hand and tapped his temple, his eyes filled with amusement.

"Unfortunately, you guys aren't very bright and overlooked two things."

"First, the legal representative of Jinghong Construction has been taken into custody by the authorities."

"He vomited everything out; he confessed everything about how the Song family laundered money and falsified accounts."

Ten minutes ago, all of the Song family's affiliated accounts in Jiangnan Province were frozen at level two.

Zhou Ran flashed a smile revealing a set of white teeth, a smile that concealed a dagger.

"Simply put, the 30 billion you were planning to use to dump shares now belongs to the Zhou family."

wow——

The crowd erupted.

This is hardly a financial war.

This is like trapping a dog by closing the door!

With 30 billion yuan in cash flow frozen, it means that the Song family's financial chain in Beijing will break instantly!

"impossible!"

Someone in the audience screamed:

This is a rumor!

There has been no official announcement...

"What's the rush?"

Zhou Ran interrupted him.

"The second thing is, do you want to know where Xiao Zhenguo and Chen Guodong, whom you've been looking for, are?"

Snapped.

The snap of the fingers was crisp and clear.

The large screen flickers and switches rapidly.

In the scene, Xiao Zhenguo is dressed in a Tang suit. Although his face is pale, he stands straight and holds two iron gallbladders in his hands.

On the hospital bed next to him, Chen Guodong held a teacup and slightly raised it towards the camera.

"We're not dead yet."

Grandpa Xiao's voice, amplified by the speakers, reverberated throughout the hall.

"From now on, Zhou Ran will be in charge of the Xiao family's business!"

"The same as the Chen family."

This powerful blow shattered the dam of rumors that the Song family had built up over half a month.

Those capitalists in the audience who were originally waiting to get a piece of the pie now looked even uglier than the green line on the screen.

It’s over.

The two old fogies are still alive, and their funds have been frozen again.

This isn't bottom-fishing, this is ransacking!

Zhou Ran looked at the pale faces below the stage and slowly raised a finger.

"From this moment on, any funds that short the stocks of Xiao and Chen will be regarded as a declaration of war against me."

His voice, imbued with demonic energy, pierced through eardrums and went straight to the brain.

"I will make you lose everything, down to your last pair of underwear."

"I'm putting my words right here."

Zhou Ran turned around, his back to everyone, leaving behind an arrogant and domineering silhouette.

"If these two stocks don't hit their daily limit before the market closes."

"I, Zhou Ran, will bring you my head."