Chapter 383: Whale Swallows Britain! Hundred‑Billion Capital Bottom‑Fishes the Empire

"Sheffield Ship... sunk..."

Wilson's lips moved silently, repeating those words as if chewing a red‑hot iron bar. The world before his eyes twisted and shattered. The century‑long splendor of the Shason Family and the glory of the British Empire, in that instant, were devoured together with the sinking destroyer by the cold South Atlantic waters.

In the office, no one spoke.

Li Junjie still stood there dumbfounded, a notebook fallen at his feet; he felt he was not merely watching history, but that the wheel of history had literally rolled over his face.

Lu Qingjun pressed his hand to his forehead, recalling how, when he went down to the countryside, the village elders spoke of ancient strategists whose brilliant calculations could turn masts and yards to ash with a laugh. He had once thought it bragging; now he believed it. His older brother was even more formidable than those strategists.

Lu Qingshan ignored everyone's outburst. He simply picked up a tea tongs, clipped the priceless telegram as if it were a used tea leaf, and tossed it into the trash can beside him.

The gesture made Wilson's heart seize violently.

That was intelligence that could decide an empire's fate, yet in his hand it was worth less than a scrap of paper.

"Ding—ling—ling—"

A rapid series of phone rings shattered the suffocating silence.

It wasn't an ordinary phone, but that red, dedicated line with its own encrypted circuit. Only a handful of people could call in through it.

Ye Ning and Li Zhi'an's gazes instantly sharpened. Wilson's body tensed; he recognized that phone as the highest‑grade communications device, usually used for direct contact with sovereign entities.

Lu Qingshan leisurely wiped his hands, walked over, and picked up the handset.

"Hello."

His voice was calm, as if answering a sales call.

The other end was silent for a moment, apparently surprised by his demeanor. Then a voice, suppressing anger and anxiety, thick with a London accent, spoke in English.

"Is this Mr. Lu? This is James Reed."

Wilson's pupils contracted to needle points.

Vice Prime Minister! It was the Vice Prime Minister himself calling!

"Mr. Reed, what can I do for you?" Lu Qingshan's voice revealed no emotion.

"Mr. Lu!" The voice on the line suddenly rose, then forced itself down again, sounding almost comical, "What on earth are you trying to do! Do you know what you're doing? You're declaring war on the entire British Empire!"

Lu Qingshan pulled the handset farther away, apparently irritated by the other's noise. He cast a glance out the window; the sky was already a muted gray.

"Mr. Reed, I think you're mistaken. First, I'm merely a businessman trading within the rules. Second, the one declaring war on you is Argentine, not me."

"You!" Reed was choked, unable to speak for a while, gulping breath, his tone finally softened, with a hint of negotiation, "Mr. Lu, let's talk. I know what you want—money, or something else? Name a price. If you pull back now, before the market opens, and close all your short positions, everything can be settled. We can act as if nothing happened."

In the office, everyone held their breath.

It was a peace overture from an empire.

Wilson watched Lu Qingshan nervously, thinking that cutting losses might be the best choice. After all, the other side was a state machine.

Lu Qingshan let out a light laugh.

"Mr. Reed, you still seem to misunderstand the situation," he paused, his tone turning cold, "Now it's not about what I want. It's about what you can give."

The other end was dead silent.

"You..." Reed's voice was filled with frustration and incredulous anger.

Lu Qingshan gave him no further chance to speak.

"Also, I recall you asked Mr. Wilson to convey a message to me," Lu Qingshan's voice was light, yet like a drill piercing the proud heart on the other end, "You said, let me be ready to pay the price?"

"Now the bill arrives."

After speaking, Lu Qingshan hung up immediately.

"Doo... doo... doo..."

The busy tone in an office at Downing Street was especially shrill. Vice Prime Minister James Reed's face turned ashen, his grip on the handset iron‑tight, veins bulging on the back of his hand.

At Weilian Wang Dajie 81 Hao, Lu Qingshan set the phone down and turned to the now completely stunned crowd.

"Alright, the idle chat is over."

He clapped his hands, shaking Lu Qingjun and Li Junjie awake from their wooden‑chicken stupor on the sofa.

"Brother, what's up? Is it Reed?" Lu Qingjun mumbled as he sat up.

"Yes," Lu Qingshan smiled, then turned his gaze to Ye Ning and Li Zhi'an, who were regaining composure after the shock.

"Boss," Ye Ning stepped forward, her eyes no longer weary, only a wolf‑like, harvest‑ready ferocity.

"Notify everyone: in one hour, all personnel report to post."

"Understood!"

"How much capital do we still have on hand?"

Ye Ning answered quickly: "Aside from a 350 billion short position, the margin is 70 billion pounds; our liquid capital account holds roughly 80 billion pounds, plus reserve funds in the Hong Kong Island Market, totaling close to 90 billion pounds."

"Insufficient," Lu Qingshan shook his head.

He walked up to Wilson.

Wilson only now seemed to wake from a dream; he stared at Lu Qingshan, his lips moving, yet no word could come out.

"Mr. Wilson," Lu Qingshan's voice was gentle, "how much liquid capital does the Shason Family have in London?"

Wilson's Adam's apple rolled once, and he laboriously uttered a figure: "Approximately... 50 billion."

"Very well," Lu Qingshan nodded, "I need that money. Consider it a loan; interest at the market's highest rate. Also, I need you to mobilize all of the Shason Family's information channels and trading seats worldwide."

Wilson hesitated not a moment; he didn't even ask "What do you want?"—he simply nodded emphatically.

"I'll handle it immediately."

He knew this was not a discussion but an order. It was also the first assignment he received after boarding this vessel.

Watching Wilson's hurried retreat, Lu Qingshan finally redirected his gaze to his own team.

The Trading Hall lights flickered back on in full; the awakened traders, though still bleary‑eyed, were instantly roused by the familiar, pre‑storm tension in the air.

David Cohen, hair a mess, crawled out from beneath the command platform, shook his head, glanced at the digital clock on the wall, then surveyed the hall's ready stance, his face bewildered.

"What's wrong? Did I oversleep? Is the battle on?"

Li Zhi'an walked over and placed the latest briefing in his arms.

Dawei lowered his head and glanced, and when the words "Sheffield Ship," "Flying Fish," and "Confirm Sunk" flashed before his eyes, the drowsiness on his face vanished instantly, replaced by an extreme, frantic exhilaration.

"HOLYSHIT!" he let out an earth‑shaking roar, leapt straight onto the table, "I knew it! I knew the boss is a god! We won!"

"Not yet."

Lu Qingshan's voice, broadcast over the speakers, rang clearly throughout the entire hall.

Everyone fell silent, looking up toward the direction of the broadcast speaker.

"The battle has only just begun."

"The previous Short Selling was just an Appetizer."

Lu Qingshan's voice was calm, yet carried a domineering aura that seemed to devour heaven and earth.

"Ye Ning, Li Zhi'an."

"Present!"

"Today's mission is only one."

"Deploy all the funds we have, including every penny borrowed from the Shason Family, outward."

His gaze seemed to pierce the floorboards, landing on each trader.

"I want you, after the Market Crash, to buy for me!"

"Buy up all the Quality Assets being dumped due to panic!"

"British Aerospace, Rolls‑Royce, British Petroleum, Barclays Bank, British Steel Company…"

Each time he uttered a name, a gasp of cold breath echoed through the hall. These are the economic lifelines of the British Empire, the jewels on the Crown.

"Their stock prices will fall to the floor, dropping to an unbelievable Paper Price."

"And what you must do is to pick up all these 'Paper' and bring them back to me."

Lu Qingshan's voice carried a hint of icy amusement.

"In short, one sentence."

"Anything listed on the London Stock Exchange, as long as they can't move it, I want it all."