Chapter 407

409. Chapter 403: On the Verge of Bankruptcy 6666

Mr. Qiaobafu once mocked those gamblers.

He mocked these gamblers for not knowing how to restrain their desires; even if they knew they would lose in the end, they still kept throwing the chips on the table onto the gambling table.

Until they discovered they could no longer pull out a single chip, they realized in a daze that they had lost everything they once possessed.

In fact, he is the same now; he has also become a gambler, just not the low-level gambler who revolves around money games.

He is more high-level; he sat at another, more high-level gambling table, playing a more high-level game concerning wealth, status, and power.

But regardless of whether the gambling table is high-level or low-level, its core is always the same; it requires investment, and one will lose!

As the invested funds became more and more, he found it increasingly difficult to turn back.

Until this moment, he suddenly woke up and remembered that this game requires placing bets.

The assistant was silent for a while, "Assuming they all want to cash out, we still have a deficit of two million."

He did not directly tell Mr. Qiaobafu how much money he had left, which shows that his own money had actually been used up, and he had also misappropriated a portion of the depositors' money.

Hearing this number, Mr. Qiaobafu's two hands began to tremble; a huge fear enveloped him; he tried to open the cigarette case, but tried twice without success.

His hands were shaking too violently!

The assistant helped him open the cigarette case; he got one of the cigarettes and tried several times before successfully biting the cigarette filter with his mouth.

The assistant took the initiative to light the cigarette for him with a lighter; his hands couldn't do anything now.

Nicotine can indeed bring some soothing effect; although his hands were still shaking, they were not shaking as violently.

"How could there be such a large loss?", he asked in a low voice, somewhat incredulously.

Perhaps he was asking about the source of this number, or perhaps he was asking himself.

The assistant handed over a document, "From the time you met the mayor, he took away over one million three hundred thousand from your hands for several projects; Poli and the others also extorted a sum from us, followed by..."

He took a look, "We lost Arthur Williams's wine; through the mayor's mediation, you compensated Arthur fifty thousand."

"Besides these few relatively large expenses, you also used about four hundred thousand or so in the social engagements accompanying the mayor."

"This includes the parties you organized many times, as well as sending gifts to the capital."

"Next, there is the fact that we have been supplementing cash by trading bonds; this batch of bonds also caused us to lose a large sum of money."

"Finally, there is your campaign team, with expenses of about twenty thousand to thirty thousand per month; together with all campaign activities, about four hundred and fifty thousand was spent."

"Here is a list; there are some small, fragmented records I didn't mention; the total is about three million or so."

The wealth belonging to him was only over one million, but that was before he came into contact with the mayor and before he started dreaming of becoming an upper-class person.

His financial situation was very healthy; although he sometimes had to face some extortion, the expenditure on extortion every three to five months was at most a few tens of thousands.

But ever since he met the mayor, he seemed to have been brainwashed, starting to frantically sprint toward that unrealistic goal and dream.

No, it wasn't brainwashing; it was that when the goal he had longed for appeared before him, he pounced on it impatiently; no one brainwashed him.

This is like a person who has been in pain for a long time seeing a painkiller; he would pay anything for it!

His hands were still trembling slightly; he opened his mouth and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, "In other words... after I cash out everything in the bank now..."

The assistant continued, "Yes, I have already expressed it very clearly just now; you are going to go bankrupt if you cannot stop them from continuing the run on the bank!"

A smile with an indescribable taste appeared on the assistant's face, flashing and disappearing, "In fact, even if they don't run on the bank, it will be very difficult for us to continue to maintain it, sir."

"It will be very difficult for us to make up for the losses with the money we have left in a short period of time."

He stopped as he spoke, giving Mr. Qiaobafu time and a process to accept it.

After about two minutes or so, he took an envelope out of his pocket and handed it over.

Mr. Qiaobafu's eyeballs turned slightly, staring at the envelope on the table, "What bad news is this again?"

The assistant sighed lightly, "My resignation letter."

Mr. Qiaobafu's eyes blinked; he didn't react at first, and after a while, he looked at him incredulously, "Now... even you are going to leave me?"

The assistant's expression was very calm; the calmness at this time was actually a kind of indifference.

"The child has grown up; I plan to take him to live in another place, otherwise he will always think of his father."

"Perhaps this can help him walk out of the pain of losing his father, change an environment, change a life."

"He is, and I am too; we both are."

Mr. Qiaobafu's fists were clenched tightly together, "Can I... keep you?"

He said it very carefully; he had almost never talked to others like this; he really needs the assistant by his side now; he still wants to struggle a bit and try!

The assistant shook his head, "The ship ticket has already been bought; I'm very sorry to encounter such a thing at this time, but some things cannot be changed."

He stood up as he spoke, "I will miss the days we worked together; you will always be in my memory!"

After bowing slightly to salute, he walked away with big strides.

Mr. Qiaobafu looked at his back, having completely lost the ability to think; the departure of his most important assistant, as well as the huge deficit, the mayor's failure, and the hopeless campaign—all of this made him unable to breathe.

He just slumped in the office, not thinking about anything, not wanting to ask anything.

I don't know how long it had been, when the telephone bell in front of him suddenly rang violently; he picked it up somewhat numbly, without speaking.

"Is this the bank president?"

"We don't have much cash now; if... we cannot provide funds as soon as possible, we might not be able to meet the depositors' withdrawal requirements."

Mr. Qiaobafu hung up the phone and patted his cheeks, "I'll go handle it."

He then went to the vault, then picked out a few precious antiques, and went to find a place to cash them out.

Although gold is also easy, gold has other uses; when necessary, taking out gold can still hold on for a while longer.

In fact, the reason why people are demanding cash now also has to do with the mayor being abandoned.

Everyone knows that Mr. Qiaobafu has been very close to the mayor for the past six months and has also invested in many projects.

In some rumors, he almost became the mayor's purse, constantly taking out money.

If the mayor had always been strong, then everyone wouldn't feel there was any problem.

It is actually not a difficult thing for a municipal councilor to get money.

But the problem lies in the fact that the mayor is finished, so it is inevitable that some people will gloat and talk about Mr. Qiaobafu's encounter.

But as they talked, the expressions of these people changed; if Mr. Qiaobafu fell into bad luck, then would those depositors have an easy time?

This is beyond doubt, so the first batch of people who realized this problem went to withdraw money; when they took the money out, they inevitably told the people close to them.

Thus, "don't tell others" became "don't not tell others," and a new round of bank run craze was born!

For the past six months, they have been dealing with the problem of bank runs; every once in a while, someone would systematically withdraw money, and sometimes he even suspected that these were all Lanse's methods!

However, he no longer has time to consider so much now; he took the antiques directly to the bank, hoping to be able to take out a loan with these antiques.

First, handle the current terrible situation, then consider subsequent problems.

As for the assistant's resignation or something?

He can no longer care about it!

If the bank really goes bankrupt, then he will have only one dead end!

Now, besides the bank, only gangs can provide him with large loans; he knows that finding Lanse at this time might be able to borrow money, but for some reason, he doesn't want to go to Lanse.

Even though he knows the bank will not give him such a large loan and will severely pressure the price, he still doesn't want to go to Lanse.

The more successful Lanse is, the more it highlights his failure!

As a somewhat famous immigrant banker in Jincheng, Mr. Qiaobafu was still able to get a loan from the bank easily; of course, the money he got was only forty percent of the antiques he mortgaged.

If it weren't for the fact that he still had some connections and relationships, the bank side even intended to pressure this price to thirty percent.

In fact, everyone knows that he might not be able to hold on, only he himself is still unclear.

Soon Lanse also heard this news; it was Jonathan (the bank vice president) who told him, saying that he heard Mr. Qiaobafu borrowed a large sum of money from his peers, and perhaps Jin Da Bank's capital turnover had problems.

He reminded Lanse that if he had related business at Jin Da Bank, he should clear it out as soon as possible.

Lanse felt somewhat surprised upon receiving this news, but also felt it was very reasonable.

He wouldn't feel surprised at all that such speculation had such a result; the risk is great, and the output is also equally great.

If the mayor won, the assets he invested now would return to his side many times over.

But he lost, and that's all there is to it.

After hanging up the phone, Lanse called Mo Lisi over and asked, "Do you think there is anything on Qiaobafu's side that is relatively valuable to us?"

Mo Lisi sat in a wheelchair with a blanket covering his legs, "What happened to Mr. Qiaobafu?"

Lanse curled his lips, "He is going to go bankrupt; before he goes bankrupt, perhaps we can obtain some things from him that are valuable to us."

Mo Lisi is an "old Imperial district person"; he pondered for a good while and said, "He has a big house..."