On Monday, Mr. Klein got up around six. It was the earliest he had risen in nearly a decade. He tidied everything up and sat down at the table, staring blankly at the clear sky outside the window.

At the end of May, the sky was already bright at a little past six.

His wife got up as well and prepared breakfast for him. The two sat at the table, which cost over a thousand bucks, looking at the sumptuous breakfast without any appetite.

Not even a little.

Fine ham and bacon accompanied by two fried eggs, some tomatoes, and vegetables. This was their favorite breakfast.

Exquisite, nutritious, and delicious.

But at this moment, they didn’t even feel like touching it.

"Will it be... very bad?" Mrs. Klein asked while straightening her husband’s collar.

Mr. Klein was silent, not even wanting to answer his wife’s question. He was like a soulless shell.

On Sunday, the television reported that the current silver price at some ports had already dropped to thirteen dollars. He no longer dared to have any expectations.

He just hoped it wouldn’t fall too much.

After a while, he reluctantly lifted his head, forcing a smile, "Don’t worry, there will be no problem..."

Mrs. Klein silently returned to the wardrobe room. She began sorting through the various clothes and accessories, some newly purchased and some a while ago, looking at the jewels on the red velvet cushion with undisguised reluctance in her eyes.

She planned to sell them all to face the potential financial crisis ahead.

And Mr. Klein kept praying, praying that the Lord would hear his prayers and let him withdraw safely at least.

At eight forty-five, Mr. Klein drove his newly bought luxury car to the exchange. He went straight to the second floor, which was packed with people.

Normally, there’s hardly anyone there. Those who qualify to go to the small hall on the second floor to see prices usually don’t come in person, mostly trusting brokers to handle their accounts.

But today, everyone, whether seen before or not, heard of or not, had come.

They gathered there, waiting...

At nine twenty-five, the board started scrolling rapidly. Due to technical reasons, the scrolling prices were reported using the highest and lowest matching prices.

When the first number appeared, Mr. Klein’s hands began to tremble, nine dollars and ninety-nine cents, almost a direct halving from two days ago!

But he still held onto a sliver of hope, as this reported price was the lowest matching price. He continued to watch, and then he collapsed on the chair as if drained of strength.

Ten dollars and fifty cents, this was lower than the price when he entered the market, and by a lot!

Three days ago, his wealth was counted in millions, but now... he faced severe losses.

Suddenly, as if realizing something, he quickly stood up and rushed towards the trading desk. He needed to quickly close his positions and sell everything he had.

Although this would cost him dearly, he would at least have some money left. But when he got to the trading desk, he found a long queue had already formed.

The same was true for the other trading desks. The traders were so busy they couldn’t stop, constantly matching prices.

Beads of sweat rolled down the side of Mr. Klein’s face as he repeatedly wiped them away with a nineteen-dollar-eighty-nine-cents handkerchief.

But his pores were like faucets turned on full blast; as soon as he wiped the sweat, a new layer appeared.

At nine-thirty, trading began. He glanced at the notice board but dared not look again, nine dollars and ninety-four cents, the current trading price...

He stood silently in line, his whole body trembling violently. Many around him were no different, with despair written all over their faces!

After handing in his trading note at the desk, the trader picked up the phone and dispatched tasks, but soon, the sweet-looking girl gave an apologetic smile.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Klein, your account has been forcibly liquidated."

Mr. Klein was a bit lost and quickly argued, "How could it be forcibly liquidated? It was nine dollars and ninety-four cents the last time I checked..." He turned to look at the notice board and was stunned.

On the top line of the notice board, the silver price had dropped to eight dollars and forty-six cents...

It was plummeting at an unimaginable rate!

This price... indeed caused a liquidation.

He retrieved his trading note from the counter, as if his soul slipped out of his body at that moment. He numbly walked to the edge of the second-floor platform.

With shaky hands, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, opened the individual packaging, and shakily lit one for himself.

Taking a deep breath, the smoke seemed to infuse him with the courage to face the apocalypse, and the act of inhaling straightened his once-hunched body.

Nicotene calmed his mind a bit, reason followed close behind. He looked back at the people behind, then shredded the trading note in his hand and entered the elevator.

The elevator already had some people in it. They were much like him, with numb expressions and vacant eyes.

They looked at Mr. Klein, and Mr. Klein glanced at them, then joined with them.

He looked at the panel controlling the elevator’s stop floors, not reaching out to change anything.

The elevator then began to slowly accelerate, ascending all the way to the top floor.

A few people numbly walked out of the elevator. On the way to the rooftop, Mr. Klein suddenly smiled and asked, "How much did you lose?"

Some answered tens of thousands, some hundreds of thousands.

The elevator couldn’t take them directly to the rooftop; there was still one more floor to go.

As they walked up, Mr. Klein and the others tried to persuade the person who lost only tens of thousands, "You don’t need to come up; you can earn that back quickly."

The person looked to be about thirty-four or thirty-five, with a worried expression, "The money was all borrowed."

That one sentence made everyone fall silent.

The difference between losing one’s own money and borrowed money is vast, and this gentleman looked... somewhat shabby; he certainly couldn’t repay this debt.

Everyone who reached this point had made a decision out of desperation.

The long staircase became their final journey in life, their steps were both light and heavy.

Mr. Klein lost all the wealth he had accumulated over twenty years, and beyond that, he had purchased a new house and new car in advance; he now owed the bank more than two hundred thousand.

There were other bills and expenses he couldn’t cover.

There were only a few days left until the next month, and soon new bills would arrive. If he couldn’t pay them, he would soon be kicked out of his house.

He and his wife would end up homeless, and his employer would soon hear about this, and then he would most likely be fired.

For a company, hiring an employee burdened with significant debt to manage middle-level operations is very risky.

No one knows if he might harm the company’s interests to cover his debt.

Without a job and losing everything, what meaning is there left in life?

That was why his steps were heavy, but as soon as he left here, jumped, everything would become easy again.

Whatever he would have to face afterward would no longer concern him, and there was even a faint smile on his lips.

Relief?

Perhaps!

But... as the light gradually filled his entire vision, he realized that the door to the rooftop was locked.

Three thick iron chains tightly locked the iron door. After the last financial crisis, when over a hundred people chose to end their lives by jumping from here, it had been locked.

Several people exchanged silent glances, with various smiles appearing on their faces.

Some seemed to have genuinely let go, their smiles vivid.

Some seemed to feel mocked by fate, their smiles filled with anger.

In some smiles, tears were hidden; perhaps he thought even wanting to die was so difficult.

In Mr. Klein’s smile, there was a sudden sense of relief; he suddenly didn’t want to die anymore.

Perhaps... living might allow him to see new hope; didn’t he come from having nothing to begin with?

He succeeded once, maybe he could succeed a second time!

On their way back, they met some other people, greeted them, and explained the situation.

Some continued walking to the rooftop, seemingly not believing what they said, while others turned back with them.

That day was destined to be doomsday for a small group of people, but not for most.

It wasn’t like the financial crisis years ago when everything was destroyed!

This time, only the silver was destroyed!

The destruction it brought... actually didn’t affect ordinary people much; not everyone was invested in the silver craze, and not everyone was foolish.

The principle is simple: stones are always stones, gold is always Gold.

Sometimes, some citizens with little education understand the true principles and truths of this world better than those great figures!

They know that stones will never become Gold, never!

At 9:50 on Monday morning, the Federal Financial Management Committee paused the trading of silver and announced that they would seriously investigate all details regarding the "silver case."

As this announcement was made, it accelerated the continued plunge of silver’s spot trading price at the International Port. Everyone was selling off large amounts, but there were hardly any buyers!

Among the real victims, most were various funds, financial institutions, mine owners, financial speculators, international speculators, and so on.

Ordinary people... not so many!

By the time ordinary people realized silver had inflated, it was already eleven, twelve, or thirteen dollars.

Just like how Mr. Klein knew about it, they were too late for the entire "market," which led many ordinary investors to hesitate to enter.

There were jumpers in Bupen today, but not many, which might be a small piece of good news!