The emergency sirens on the bridge of the Taichu Golden Sky-Cruiser continued their shrill, rhythmic pulse.
Red warning strobes washed over the polished brass bulkheads and crystal consoles. On the central holographic display, Victor Sterling’s sneering face filled the main screen. He adjusted his silk necktie, looking directly at the international press cameras with venomous arrogance.
“Look at him,” Tie Niu growled, his thick arms crossed over his chest like tree trunks. “His hair has enough pomade to lubricate a diesel locomotive. He talks entirely too much for a man with such fragile collarbones.”
Su Wan stood before the central terminal, her slender fingers typing rapidly across the keyboard. Multiple financial data streams cascaded down the monitors in flashing green and crimson columns.
“Sterling isn’t just boasting, Chairman,” Su Wan said, her professional tone growing sharp and intensely focused. “Twelve premier Wall Street vulture hedge funds have formed a dark-pool alliance under Ouroboros Capital. They have pooled five trillion US dollars and one billion High-Grade Spirit Stones in synthetic derivatives.”
“What does synthetic derivatives mean in plain speech, Su Wan?” Lin Mo asked, leaning casually against the navigation table.
“It means they are selling shares that do not exist,” Su Wan explained clearly. “They are borrowing phantom shares through unregulated offshore dark pools. In the last thirty minutes alone, they dumped two billion counterfeit shares of Taichu Global Medical and Taichu Logistics onto the New York Sovereign Exchange.”
