Autumn draped Manhattan in a tapestry of flame and gold, as if the city itself were a masterfully composed painting. Six moons had completed their cycles since Li Trum had pledged himself to Wang Wei Ke's tutelage. During this period, he had transformed like a cicada in darkness, silently metamorphosing while awaiting the moment to emerge in full glory.
The solar of House Trum Investment Advisors remained situated in midtown Manhattan, but its interior had undergone profound transformation. The walls no longer displayed common market analysis charts but a series of sophisticated data visualization screens, tracking minute fluctuations across global markets in real-time. In one corner, high-performance computational engines operated ceaselessly, executing the quantitative models Wang had imparted, capturing market anomalies invisible to the naked eye.
Li Trum sat at the chamber's center, attired in a perfectly tailored navy garment, fingers rhythmically tapping the table's surface with the precision of a master conductor's baton. His appearance remained youthful, yet his gaze had subtly transformed—deeper, more composed, like an unfathomable pool reflecting the financial world's constant shifts.
"Lord Trum, your visitor has arrived," Steward Chen's voice came from the doorway, interrupting his contemplation with perfect timing.
"Send him in," Li Trum continued reviewing the data streams without looking up.
Footsteps approached across the thick carpet, leaving barely perceptible impressions. Zhang Lei, an analyst from a modest securities house in midtown, stood before Li Trum. His expression revealed a mixture of reverence, curiosity, and most prominently, barely concealed anticipation, like a supplicant before a mysterious oracle.
"Be seated," Li Trum finally raised his eyes, gesturing toward a chair while offering a freshly poured cup of green tea, "Have you brought what I requested?"
Zhang surveyed the chamber cautiously, confirming their privacy before withdrawing a small data storage device from his case, "Everything is here—high-frequency trading flow data from five major brokerage houses, covering the past three moons, completely unprocessed raw information."
His voice remained hushed, as though conveying forbidden secrets. Under the surface realm's regulations, such data represented proprietary information belonging to the brokerages; its unauthorized transfer not only constituted breach of contract but potentially invited legal consequences.
Li Trum accepted the device with elegant composure, as though this were merely routine business rather than a clandestine exchange. "You've assumed considerable risk, Zhang Lei," his tone conveyed both appreciation and subtle warning, "Are you certain the reward justifies such peril?"
Zhang's expression shifted through emotions like an abstract masterpiece, revealing fear intermingled with determination. "This represents my entry token, Lord Trum. I've grown weary of existing as a common analyst, watching major institutions harvest the market through information advantages. I wish to join you, to become a rule-maker rather than merely a passive participant."
His words revealed a long-suppressed yearning familiar to everyone positioned in the financial system's lower tiers—the dream of breaking through invisible barriers separating insiders from outsiders, of crossing from prey to predator.
Li Trum acknowledged this with a slight nod, placing the device in a drawer before sliding an envelope across the table. "Your arranged compensation. Additionally," he paused, a meaningful smile playing across his lips, "I admire those with courage. Should this arrangement prove fruitful, House Trum might have a position befitting your talents."
Zhang's eyes brightened like a desert traveler glimpsing an oasis. He accepted the envelope, feeling the security its weight promised. "Thank you, Lord Trum. I shall not disappoint."
After Zhang's departure, the office returned to silence. Li Trum rose and approached the window, surveying the endless flow of humanity through Manhattan's canyons below. Six moons prior, he had been this system's victim; now, he was becoming a participant in its rules and eventually their rewriter.
He activated the internal communication device, "Chen, summon Zhao Ming and the team. The time has come to initiate 'The Invisible Hand' project."
Ten minutes later, within the council chamber, Li Trum faced his personally selected elite unit—Zhao Ming, his academy companion, now responsible for quantitative model optimization; Chen Yang, an artificial intelligence specialist overseeing sentiment analysis algorithms; Wang Xiao, a former Wall Street trader now executing core strategies; and Liu Ming, a network security expert ensuring the system's secrecy and integrity.
"My lords," Li Trum's voice carried quiet authority, like a precisely wielded scalpel cutting to the heart of matters, "We have prepared for six moons. Theory, models, data—all stand ready. Now we must put them into practice."
He activated the projection device, displaying detailed information about a mid-sized public company called "Star Tech Enterprises." "Our first target. Moderate market capitalization, appropriate liquidity, relatively dispersed ownership structure, and most importantly—an exceptionally active retail investor base."
Team members exchanged meaningful glances, understanding the implication—this represented a perfect "experimental arena," an ideal subject for testing their newly developed market influence models.
"The plan unfolds in three phases," Li Trum's finger traced an elegant price curve on the screen, "First, we establish positions quietly, through multiple accounts, at different time points, maintaining a low profile; second, we release a series of analysis reports through my newly established financial blog 'Investment Revelations,' emphasizing Star Tech's undervaluation; finally, when retail sentiment reaches our predetermined threshold, we gradually distribute shares, realizing profits."
Liu Ming frowned, "But this resembles standard market manipulation. The Securities Exchange Commission will scrutinize our activities."
Li Trum's lips curved into a mysterious smile, "Therein lies the Wang Model's distinctive feature. We aren't simply manipulating prices but guiding market psychology. Our reports will be entirely based on public data and reasonable inference, containing no false information. We aren't creating price movements, merely... anticipating and capitalizing on them."
He moved toward the chamber's center, his voice deepening with magnetic resonance, "Imagine possessing the ability to predict precisely when a group of retail investors will experience fear, when they will succumb to greed. With such knowledge, one could make perfect decisions at perfect moments. This isn't manipulation, but rather... a dance."
The chamber's atmosphere grew heavy with his words. Each member sensed a subtle ethical boundary being approached, yet simultaneously found themselves drawn to this unprecedented methodology. This transcended simple technical analysis or fundamental research, representing the sophisticated application of market social psychology.
"Month's end brings Star Tech's quarterly report. According to our model, they will slightly exceed market expectations, though not sufficiently to trigger significant price movement," Li Trum's gaze swept across each team member, "This presents our perfect entry point."
"And if... we fail?" Chen Yang inquired cautiously.
Li Trum's expression sharpened with cool calculation, "Failure represents an inevitable component of mastery. In this game, true masters aren't those who never fail, but those who learn from failure and swiftly adjust their strategy. This explains our commencement with smaller targets—controllable risk, maximized learning opportunity."
After the council disbanded, team members departed with mingled tension and excitement. Only Zhao Ming remained, Li Trum's earliest ally and among the few aware of the complete narrative.
"Li," Zhao's voice carried subtle concern, "Are you certain of this path? Once begun, retreat becomes nearly impossible."
Li Trum turned toward the window, where the setting sun gilded his profile while casting a deep shadow on the wall behind him, reflecting his inner complexity of light and darkness. "Years past, I believed markets were fair, only to be harvested without mercy. Then, I saw only two paths—remain perpetually harvested, or learn to become the harvester."
His voice remained steady yet laden with deeper meaning, "But now, I perceive a third way—understand the system, master its rules, then... rewrite the game."
Zhao fell silent briefly, "Is this worth the price you'll pay?"
Li Trum did not immediately respond. Outside, Wall Street's lights kindled one by one, like a sea of stars, each representing a dream, a story, a contest of wills and wits.
"I cannot say with certainty," he finally answered, his voice blending determination with barely perceptible uncertainty, "But I know that without trying, I would forever dwell in that rainy night's shadow, eternally the failed investor crushed beneath market forces."
As night deepened, only keyboard rhythms and computational device murmurs remained in the solar. Li Trum worked alone, immersed in the data ocean, meticulously weaving his first web. In the blue light of the display, his features resembled both a focused artist and a precise hunter, patiently awaiting the perfect moment to capture his prey.
Within New York's never-slumbering jungle, a meticulously designed financial game had commenced, representing merely the first move in Li Trum's grand strategy. None could foresee how this former retail investor would advance step by step toward the financial world's epicenter, eventually assuming a position capable of influencing the entire market's rules.
That position's name was President.