Chapter 246: Financial Crisis
"Thank you, Mr. Rastig! Thank you so much!"
A slightly plump, luxuriously dressed wealthy businessman tightly clasped Klein's hand, his face glistening with oil from excessive excitement.
Because he listened to the other party's "inside information," several stocks he purchased soared in a short period, earning him thousands of suile, which almost equaled half a year's profit from his factory.
"You're welcome, Mr. Sean." Klein wore a polite smile, calmly withdrawing his hand. "Rather than thanking me, you should say you have a discerning eye and seized this opportunity."
"Do you have any other stocks to recommend, Mr. Rastig? I'll listen to you again this time!" The wealthy businessman Sean asked eagerly, as if afraid of missing the next opportunity to get rich.
"Since you're so interested, Mr. Sean…" Klein deliberately paused, showing just the right amount of hesitation, before saying in a relaxed tone, "I do have some stocks here that I'm very optimistic about…"
"Good, good! Please wait a moment!" Sean quickly pulled out an exquisite fountain pen and a small notebook from his pocket. As Klein spoke slowly, he jotted down notes rapidly.
Just as the two were chatting happily about stocks, and other guests around them cast envious and curious glances.
"Sir, you have a telegram."
A soft, pleasant female voice came. Irin, dressed in an expensive gown and adorned like a true lady, gracefully swayed over and handed a telegram to Klein.
"Alright, I'll be right there." Klein understood, stood up, and requested to leave Mr. Sean.
"Mr. Sean, I wish you all the best on your path to wealth."
"Thank you, Mr. Rastig, I will never forget your kindness!"
Backlund, inside a top-tier luxury suite in a hotel.
Having shed all his disguises and changed back into ordinary clothes, Klein sighed tiredly. He glanced at Irin, who was sprawled on the sofa, exuding an aura of laziness and temptation.
She seemed to sense his gaze, lifting her head. Her eyes, shimmering like water, looked at him, and a captivating smile played on her lips.
Klein's heart inexplicably trembled, and a wave of heat rose uncontrollably.
Calm down! I need to calm down! She is a Demoness—think of Rosell's jokes, Klein, you absolutely cannot repeat his mistakes—
He frantically admonished himself in his heart. After forcibly calming down, he turned his gaze to the other side, to Charles, who was sitting on the sofa, quietly reading a report.
"How is it?"
"Everything went smoothly." Charles nodded, closing the report. "We will now begin to repurchase that stock at a price of five suile per share."
"This—the increase has already exceeded forty percent, is the funding really not an issue?" Klein couldn't help but ask.
"Hmph—don't underestimate our economic strength." Charles's voice was full of confidence. "However, you, Mr. Rastig, have been doing very well recently."
"Sigh—" Klein sighed again.
This was his recent mission: to disguise himself as a wealthy businessman named "Rastig" and, as an investment genius, enter Backlund's stock market.
The specific job was to act as a successful person, attending various high-Society salons and gatherings, and "selflessly" recommending stocks to other wealthy businessmen and stockbrokers in Backlund.
Initially, few people believed him. Only a scattered few, with a mindset of testing the waters or simply watching for entertainment, followed his advice and bought some stocks.
Who knew that within just a few days after those people bought in, the value of these stocks began to grow rapidly, and the increase quickly exceeded thirty percent. Those who had approached it playfully made a fortune.
So, when he recommended stocks for the second time, many who had been waiting on the sidelines also entered the market. As expected, the stock prices soared again.
After this repeated several times,
The nature of the matter fundamentally changed.
The entire upper circle of Backlund knew that there was a man named Rastig who held inside information, and following him would lead to wealth.
Thus, "Rastig," played by Klein, became a highly sought-after person to befriend. Countless wealthy individuals and nobles tried every means to visit him, hoping to get his "guidance."
In fact, Klein was well aware that behind those stocks, the Society was secretly manipulating them. The Society first sold those stocks at a low price, luring targets into the market, and then bought them back at a high price, artificially creating an illusion of market prosperity.
For this, the Society had already incurred costs of hundreds of thousands of suile.
He could roughly guess the Society's objective: through massive initial investment, to make the snowball grow bigger and bigger, attracting enough capital to enter the market, and then, at the moment the bubble was at its largest, to perform the final "harvest."
"You rest for a few days, then there will be a new mission," Charles instructed. "Recently, a new mining company will be established in Backlund. You need to hint to them that this company has discovered an astonishingly rich gold mine in its South Continent colony, which is a major positive—
"This time the targets are those politicians and nobles; the specific details will be told to you later."
"This—" Klein's expression instantly darkened. To be honest, doing such things made his conscience ache a little.
"Don't make such a sour face." Charles noticed his change in mood.
"You should be happy that you can participate in a mission with no life-threatening danger," Charles paused, then added, "Moreover, playing a wealthy businessman is beneficial for your digestion of the potion and your future advancement; don't be ungrateful for your good fortune."
"But—but—many people will go bankrupt because of this, right?" Klein hesitated to speak.
Many people had mortgaged all their assets for loans to buy stocks.
He knew that besides them, many other teams were doing similar things in other cities in Loen.
In fact, they might just be a smokescreen; these operations were not clever. They might only be a small part of a larger operation, or perhaps a visible cover.
He didn't understand the specific operations, he didn't understand finance, nor did he understand the subsequent plan.
Besides, for stocks with a gain of over forty percent, even if it might be a trap, countless people would go crazy for it. Similarly, when the bubble burst, countless people would lose everything because of him.
He had already seen many people even mortgage their properties and factories for loans to buy stocks.
"Then they can only blame their own greed. If they weren't greedy, how would they be fooled?" Charles persuaded him patiently.
"It's not that we are bad; it's that they are too greedy. Besides, those stocks have thresholds and are unrelated to commoners. Ultimately, those who go bankrupt are wealthy businessmen, factory owners, and those arrogant nobles. Why do you worry about them?"
"They usually indulge in luxury and pleasure, act arrogantly, and exploit workers. What's wrong with making them pay a little price now—"
"Yes, yes." Irin, beside him, also giggled and chimed in, "Just thinking about those high and mighty, arrogant guys facing such a miserable end, I get all excited."
A flush of abnormal redness appeared on her cheeks, filled with an unusual pleasure.
As a Demoness who brings Calamity, their current actions perfectly fit her acting requirements. For her, this not only accelerated the digestion of the potion and allowed her to act as a higher Sequence character earlier, but also earned her rewards from the Society. It was simply all benefits and no harm.
"But if the mining company doesn't have a mine, it will easily be exposed," Klein voiced his concern. "Once someone with relevant connections discovers an anomaly and sends people for on-site inspection, or if the kingdom's relevant departments intervene—"
"You don't need to worry about that." Charles waved his hand casually, a mysterious smile on his face.
"For the mine to have ore, the people above will naturally take care of it."
Solve? How to solve? Klein was a little confused. Could they conjure a gold mine out of thin air?
Seeing that Charles had no intention of explaining, he could only sigh slightly, pick up the newspaper on the table, and start flipping through it, trying to divert his attention.
After ignoring a few articles about the booming stock market that made his conscience ache slightly, he suddenly found a piece of news that interested him.
"Rosell Memorial Exhibition—"
A desolate piece of land in a remote area.
A male figure appeared out of thin air.
His features were handsome, his eyes deep, a truly charming face, but patches of coarse black stubble grew on his cheeks, giving him an extreme sense of contradiction: both old and youthful, both rational and mad.
"Is this it?" He looked around, surveying the barren environment.
He raised his head, looked at the gray sky, and slowly said in a tone that stated a fact:
"I wish—"
"I wish there was a priceless gold mine here."
"Click."
He raised his hand and lightly snapped his fingers in the silent wilderness.