Reborn American Giants

The ear-splitting ringtone rang for less than a second and was immediately picked up.

This is the foreign currency trading room of Green Bay Private Equity on Casias Street in the third block of San Salvador's most famous financial street.

An earthquake more than a century ago almost destroyed the entire city, but the tenacious people of San Salvador rebuilt their homes on the ruins.

People on the financial street often like to joke that as long as the current situation continues as it is, natural disasters such as earthquakes may not be needed to destroy the city.

The call here is always picked up immediately, and the difference between failure and success is often just a few seconds. The chief currency trading officer here needs to keep abreast of market changes and pay attention to the movements of the other seventeen currency trading officers.

They are all eyeing this position, after all, the commissions he earns are so generous, and he often makes a lot of money.

Green Bay Fund's reputation on the financial street has not been too great recently. It has attracted the attention of others among financial investment institutions by relying on several consecutive investments with ultra-high yields.

He was just about to buy a dazzling and fashionable yacht, but at this moment he had to pull his thoughts back from it and listen carefully to the voice on the other end of the phone. However, the person on the other end was not doing business, but talking to

A media reporter he knew well wanted to inquire about the news.

"Martin, have you received any news? There is something big going on in the Independence Palace."

"What's the big deal?"

"Not sure yet, it is said to be a very big thing. The wind blowing at the media "briefing" held by the Press Office of the Independence Palace almost blew over the president's yacht," the reporter on the other end of the phone could not see.

The trading officer's face twitched, "The editor of our newspaper asked us to go around to find out the news, hoping to set up a dragnet and catch a big fish. Although the direction is not clear yet, it feels like the rain is about to come."

The trader's eyes went to the screen again, and he examined the red, black and yellow numbers dancing on it.

The dollar seems to be doing well and relatively stable; a food riot just broke out in Moscow, so everyone's attention is on the ruble today.

Russia's winter is so cold that the leaders' brains seem to be frozen and unable to think, even though it should be summer. The country's foreign exchange transactions have also entered a very difficult winter.

The trading officer rubbed his eyes to confirm that he had read correctly. After staring at the screen for so long, it was common for his eyes to feel dry and itchy, but he did not dare to wear myopia glasses in the office.

In this position, he must maintain absolute confidence. He is already thirty-seven years old, and he must not show any signs of aging or physical weakness. After all, there is a long line of people behind him, so if he sees the opportunity, he must

It will push him off his throne.

"I haven't heard anything here, Pizarro. It's just the same as usual in the market."

"Let me tell you this, the flies here are buzzing and flying everywhere."

"Maybe there are some speculations about the Independence Palace. Most of them are nonsense and spouting nonsense."

"Well, maybe so." The reporter replied, sounding very disbelieving. "If you hear any news, let me know, okay?"

The trading officer pressed the button to cut off the call and continued to rub his tired eyes while thinking about how to fill the personal financial gap left by the last crazy spending spree.

While having fun on the yacht, the ladies with charming faces spread coconut oil and let him enjoy it.

Suddenly the phone rang again. This time it was a rich man he met at a party. He had heard similar rumors and wanted to know whether he should transfer the funds to US dollars or Japanese yen immediately. He wanted him to give

He gave me some advice. I don’t know which fly flew to him again.

The trading officer looked at the screen again and found that the numbers in Salvador Colon began to turn red. It went lower, but not very drastically, just a little bit. But this was also one of the signs.

Could he ignore it? Damn it, he was too old to take the risk. Maybe he should pack up his belongings and sail the Caribbean for fun for a year, then find a normal job that wasn't so grueling.

But now is not the time. The boss has already ordered that Green Bay Fund will conduct a series of secret operations to convert all the funds held by the fund, including the Salvadoran Colon in Green Bay Bank, into U.S. dollars or Japanese yen currencies.

Yes, the operation is carried out secretly, airtight and low-key, these are the boss's original words.

He must finally make a big deal, buy a boat, and pay off the mortgage. He rubbed his aching brain, pressed a button, and connected to the foreign exchange broker, hoping to find out the latest purchases.

and selling price.

"Cable?" he asked. That's lingo among traders, asking about the price of the dollar.

Years ago, the only link between San Salvador and the financial empire of New York was an undersea cable. Of course, there was also endless greed, which has not changed at all.

"0.1006," the voice on the other end was not clear. This is the age of aerospace, people can go to heaven, and the lines between the broker's office and the foreign exchange trading room, which are so close to each other, are still so bad. But, is it him?

What if your ears are bad?

He sighed. The exchange rate between the colon and the US dollar had dropped again. If you don't do it, you won't stop. Take action quickly.

A massive sell-off kicked off.

"Oh, Victor, it's great, I really like it." At one o'clock in the morning, all the newspapers had come out. Amfilo did not sleep at this rare time, but held the hand that had just been handed over to him.

The secretary brought the newspaper to his hand, and he laughed heartily while reading it.

"Chairman? Hello, it's so late and you haven't rested yet?" Victor was on the other end of the phone. His voice sounded a little tired, and it was obvious that he had just been woken up.

"It's very good, and it will get better. Listen clearly, we are facing a very serious crisis now. Look at the monkeys in the tree. They are all unable to sit still. We must take action before the tree falls and the monkeys scatter.

.

It seems that our President Jose's personal crisis has caused fluctuations in the financial markets. Victor, you are doing a great job, but I need to add more fuel to your fire. Before the end of this week, Colon

The exchange rate with the U.S. dollar fell below 0.1."

"Chairman, this will break the bottom line of the market's confidence. Colon will be destroyed," Victor's voice no longer sounded tired.

"The market naturally has a way of adjusting itself. Unfortunately, the sharp fall in the national currency will make ordinary voters panic, because their mortgages will skyrocket, and I will also ask the central bank to increase loan interest rates and tighten money. However,

What's even more unfortunate is that this will all be blamed on the president and those who support him."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"Do you understand?"

"Of course." There was a short reply.

Amfilo looked at the receiver carefully for a while, then gently put it back on the base, then lay on the bed and fell asleep comfortably.