Chapter 397: Putting Morgan Stanley on the Fire

The moment the phone hung up, the air on the top floor of Saint Remo Apartment, which had solidified from immense wealth, was shattered completely by an even sharper, more bone‑chilling cold.

David Cohen's face, which had just regained a hint of color, turned ashen again.

His lips trembled as he stared at Lu Qingshan, his expression as if he were looking at a madman who had just pulled the safety pin from a nuclear bomb.

"Boss… no… Mr. Lu!"

His voice changed pitch, tinged with sobbing.

"You can't do this! This is a declaration of war on the entire Wall Street! No, this is using our own heads to ram into their cannon mouths! Morgan Stanley… they are not those old‑fashioned aristocrats in London; they are the top wolves of Wall Street! They will tear us apart! They will marshal every force, from the FBI to the tax bureau, they will investigate us to the ground and then throw us into prison!"

He almost shouted, his body trembling violently with fear.

He grew up in this jungle, and he knows better than anyone that publicly announcing Short Selling Morgan Stanley is not a trade; it's suicide.

Lu Qingjun was also scared stiff; he grabbed Lu Qingshan's arm, sweating profusely.

"Brother! Are you crazy? Weren't we supposed to sneak into the village, avoid the gunfire? Why did you set off a firecracker first, announcing our arrival? Isn't that a fool's move?"

The whole team, except Lu Qingshan, felt their hearts rise to their throats.

Ye Ning and Zhang Qianru exchanged a glance; though silent, their furrowed brows revealed the raging turmoil inside them.

This bears no resemblance to any textbook financial tactic.

Facing everyone's panic, Lu Qingshan calmly walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of water.

"Why is everyone so panicked?"

He took a sip of water before speaking slowly.

"They want to set a trap for us, using the blunt blade of Compliance Review to grind us down slowly. If we follow their line, explain and self‑justify, we'll fall straight into their snare. Then the initiative will be entirely in their hands."

He set down the glass and scanned everyone.

"So we can't play by their rules."

Li Junjie adjusted his glasses, his eyes behind the lenses flashing; as if he had grasped a key point, he frantically scribbled in his notebook, muttering under his breath.

"I get it! I get it! This isn't foolishness, it's military strategy! The 'Feint East, Attack West' from the Thirty‑Six Stratagems—no, it's 'Relieve Wei by Attacking Zhao'! Even smarter! Boss, you're creating an entirely new battlefield!"

He looked up, excitedly explaining to the bewildered Lu Qingjun and David.

"You see, their original plan was to quietly, on a regulatory level, crush us as 'outsiders'. It was a silent, upper‑class execution. But now, Boss has flung the news of Short Selling Morgan Stanley out there, equivalent to lighting a flare at Wall Street's busiest intersection!"

"Now everyone's attention will be fixed on Morgan Stanley! Morgan's shareholders, clients, partners, and the countless hyenas on Wall Street looking for a slice will stare at it relentlessly! Morgan Stanley, from a hunter poised to stalk us, instantly becomes a prey being skewered over a fire!"

"Do they still have the energy to push Congress to slowly scrutinize our tiny Prospector Capital? No! All their resources must be used to stabilize their stock price, soothe their clients, and fend off Short Selling forces from all directions! Boss, this move directly disables their most insidious weapon and shifts all the pressure onto the enemy!"

David Cohen stared dumbfounded; the theoretical models taught in business school looked pale and powerless before Li Junjie's Eastern‑strategy interpretation.

He opened his mouth, murmuring, "Shift… shift the pressure onto the enemy?"

Lu Qingshan gave Li Junjie an approving glance.

"Exactly. They want to shut the door and beat the dog, so I'll first set fire to their house. Are they putting out the fire, or keep beating the dog?"

He walked to the window, gazing at the distant Steel Jungle.

"Moreover, I want the whole Wall Street to see that we're here. We're not here to steal; we're here to rob. When the butcher enters, the pigs in the pen must first hear the sound of a blade being sharpened."

……

Wall Street, Morgan Stanley headquarters, top‑floor conference room.

The atmosphere was solemn and austere.

Chief Executive Officer John Parker, a man nearing sixty with meticulously combed hair and eyes sharp as an eagle, was receiving the quarterly report on the Asian market.

"…In summary, our business in Japan grew by fifteen percent, but in Hong Kong Island and London, our market share has been squeezed by the rise of Star Han…"

Before the presenter could finish, the heavy wooden door of the conference room was slammed open.

Parker's Chief Secretary, a pale‑skinned man in his thirties, forgot to knock and rushed straight in.

"Mr. Parker! Something's happened!"

Parker frowned, a hint of displeasure flashing across his face.

"What's the matter, making you forget protocol?"

"Reuters… and Bloomberg! They just released a flash at the same time!" The secretary's voice was sharp from urgency as he handed over his tablet.

Parker took the tablet, glanced at it, and the muscles on his otherwise placid face tensed instantly.

On the screen was a bold, scarlet headline.

【Breaking: Mysterious Eastern Fund acquires Prospector Capital, publicly announces Short Selling Morgan Stanley!】

The conference room fell into a death‑like silence.

All the executives saw the headline, each looking as if they'd seen a ghost.

"Short Selling?"

"Public announcement?"

"Short Selling Morgan Stanley?"

"What lunatic asylum did this madness crawl out of?"

"FUCK!"

Parker sprang to his feet, smashing the tablet onto the conference table with a thunderous "Bang!"

"Who did this?! Prospector Capital? What is that? Where did it come from? Find out! Use all our contacts; I want to know everything about this company within ten minutes! Their funding sources, their background, who their boss is!"

He paced the conference room like an enraged Lion, roaring out orders.

"Public Relations! Issue a statement immediately! This is baseless malicious slander! Market manipulation! We'll report it to the securities regulator!"

"Trading Department! Prepare all deployable capital! From now on, unlimited share buybacks! I'll make every bastard who dares to short explode their positions! Squeeze every last bone out of them!"

"Legal! Sue them! No matter who they are, drive them to bankruptcy!"

A barrage of commands flew out like a volley, and the core of Morgan Stanley erupted like a machine whose wasp nest had been pierced, racing into overdrive.

The elegantly lethal "smother‑kill" plan originally plotted against Lu Qingshan vanished in an instant, wiped out by this brutally coarse slap.

No one mentions "Compliance Review" any longer, and no one cares about the "Lu Qingshan" from the East.

They now have only one enemy, a "Prospector Capital" that dares to publicly humiliate them, reckless about life and death!

Saint Remo Apartment.

On the computer screen before Ye Ning, the green line representing Morgan Stanley's stock price plunged sharply, a vertical cliff‑like drop within minutes of the news release.

Countless sell orders surged out like an avalanche.

"Boss, they've started a panic sell‑off."

Immediately, in less than a minute, a massive buying‑order fund surged in, forcibly holding up the falling trend, and the price began to swing wildly up and down.

"They've started to fight back. They're doing large‑scale buybacks."

David Cohen was completely stunned, staring fixedly at the wildly jumping K line on the screen, feeling his own heart was about to leap out of his chest.

"God… the Long and Short sides have traded over two billion dollars in five minutes… this is literally a war…"

At that moment, a newly installed, inconspicuous black desk phone in the apartment suddenly rang.

It was Prospector Capital's official external number.

Zhang Qianru looked at Lu Qingshan.

Lu Qingshan's mouth corner lifted a playful smile, and he made a "please" gesture.

Zhang Qianru took a deep breath, pressed the speakerphone button, and with her crisp, pleasant, yet emotionless, most standard American business accent, lifted the handset.

"Prospector Capital, do you need any assistance?"

On the other end, a male voice, distorted by extreme anger, suppressed and full of authority, came through.

"I am John Parker, CEO of Morgan Stanley."

"Now, tell me, who the hell are you?"