Chapter 1172: Chapter 1170: Leaked Information

After finishing the work at hand, Lynch casually started flipping through the latest newspaper.

Besides covering the general strike on the front page, the second page was still focused on the main events of this period.

Half of the layout described the progress of the World Development Committee’s negotiations, while the other half recorded the latest developments in the "silver case."

Through cooperation among the FBI and several other agencies, most of the participants had already been identified. The Federation had not yet moved against the international players, but some people inside the country... were not going to get away.

In a list of more than thirty names, Lynch saw several very familiar ones.

People who play futures basically all live in Bupen.

If you play big enough, you will inevitably have a certain reputation in this not-so-large city.

Looking at these people he had once met at certain salons, or whose deeds he had heard of, now being defined as "maliciously speculating on silver prices and harming the market" and about to be investigated, Lynch let out a sympathetic sigh.

In fact, as far as the capital markets are concerned, the Federation Government does not possess the authority to take the initiative and interfere with market behavior.

Their speculation on silver is, in itself, a form of free market behavior. They did indeed go a bit too far, in a sense.

But there was nothing wrong with their behavior itself.

Hoarding goods to drive up prices, then selling off the stockpile once enough profit has been made—hasn’t that been the most common thing capitalists did in the early stages of capital development?

On what grounds does the Federation Government decide that this operation is illegal?

If they consider this operation illegal, then most behaviors in the Federation Market are illegal!

But no one talks about these things, because the six major banks have stepped in, as well as some big capitalists and Consortiums.

In a certain sense, the Federation Government is not the one truly calling the shots. It is merely the "role" pushed to the front stage by these big capital forces; when these big capitalists needed a proper excuse for their rather improper off-market intervention to plunder profits, the Federation Government’s intervention appeared.

Life would not be easy for these people. They not only lost most of their assets, they would also lose their freedom for the foreseeable future. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

What awaits them is very likely decades, even hundreds or thousands of years of imprisonment.

Recently, the Federal Supreme Prosecution Office has joined forces with close to a thousand families of victims—specifically, the families of those who had invested in silver and, after silver collapsed, developed suicidal thoughts and actually took their own lives.

These people gathered together to file a joint lawsuit against the behind-the-scenes culprits who had caused the tragedy, including these domestic "institutions."

Once the Federation Government steps in, it will definitely make everything proceed smoothly. With these victims, once the court accepts their lawsuit, there will be sufficient legal support for investigations, arrests, and so on.

While Lynch was slowly savoring this piece of news, a tall, thin old man was also reading this newspaper.

His face looked terrible. A sudden pain in his chest forced him to quickly pull a small pill bottle from his pocket and stuff two solid tablets into his mouth.

Ever since the so-called silver crash, he had been having frequent angina attacks. The Doctor said he needed to calm his emotions, reduce anxiety and other negative feelings.

But the problem was, he had lost three hundred million, ninety percent of which was other people’s money. How was he supposed to calm down?

"Mr. Wycliffe..."

The door to the room opened and two men with a very fierce air walked in. One look at them and you could tell they were not to be messed with.

Both wore very short hair. The first man looked to be around forty, with several knife scars on his face. On both cheeks, in the same spot, there was a large scar.

It looked as if something had once pierced straight through both sides of his cheeks.

Just standing there, he gave off a powerful sense of oppression.

The other man seemed about the same age. His skin was slightly darker, his face unmarked by scars, but his eyes were very distinctive.

His eyes were extremely indifferent. Whether he was looking at Mr. Wycliffe or at his companion, his gaze was cold, not like he was looking at a living fellow human being, but more like he was looking at a dead object, a thing.

The two walked in and stopped when they were still about five or six meters away from Mr. Wycliffe.

"I need you to help me find this person. The last information I got was that she headed to the Federation..."

The old man’s assistant walked over carrying a tray. On it were photos of Charlie (the sister), along with some other documents and information.

The scar-faced guy picked up the photos and materials, looked them over, then exchanged a glance with the man beside him. They were settling on a price.

They were the leaders of one of the more famous Hunter teams in this world. That’s right, Hunters.

Their prey had never been animals, though if someone was willing to pay a high price to have them hunt animals, they wouldn’t refuse—as long as the money was enough.

Their main line of work was assassination and kidnapping. Unlike other Hunter teams that sometimes took on bodyguard jobs and the like.

They never took those. In their own words, "Not much money, and very dangerous."

Very quickly, through tacit understanding and subtle signals, the two of them arrived at their answer.

"Two million, Mr. Wycliffe," the scarred man stated his price.

The lanky old man frowned. "I remember our last deal was only two hundred grand—you’ve multiplied it by ten."

The scarface man smiled as he put the photos back. "You want us to go to the Federation. That’s not some small country. They’ve got a very complete security apparatus and intelligence network. For us, it’s the most dangerous place there is."

"Secondly, I’ve heard this woman is a gold mine. Her deposits scattered across World Bank branches worldwide are in the billions, maybe even tens of billions."

"In front of that kind of money, two million isn’t much, Mr. Wycliffe."

A faint mockery hung on Scarface’s face. "And the fact you’re able to contact us means your own people can’t find her."

Mr. Wycliffe didn’t get angry. He just quietly listened to the explanation, then nodded in agreement. "I’ll give you three million. Find her before the end of the year and bring her back alive."

Scarface picked up the photos on the tray again, along with the other documents. "Thank you for your generosity, sir. You might not have to wait that long before you get good news."

Mr. Wycliffe nodded once, then added a warning. "You’d better not get any ideas about her. I’m not afraid to tell you the truth—she’s got a key I want on her. But there are two keys. You understand what I mean?"

Scarface froze for a moment, then nodded. "I get it. Relax. For the sake of our reputation, I won’t do anything stupid."

Then the two of them left.

Back in the car, Scarface’s partner asked him, "You buy what that old bastard said?"

He meant the story about the two keys. There were all kinds of rumors outside now. Some said the Charlie siblings had screwed everyone; they’d long since made Wealth in the tens of billions.

Whoever could find that brother and sister—even just one of them—would get their hands on that Wealth!

Countless people were going crazy. The most famous Mercenary Corps in the world were all hunting these two.

Scarface’s team was also looking for the Charlie siblings.

Scarface drove in silence.

Only after the car passed an intersection did he counter, "So what if I believe it? So what if I don’t?"

He took a moment to glance at his partner. "She’s just a rich little whore. I don’t believe we can’t crack her open."

"If it’s true, she’s worth three million."

"If it’s fake, we go get the money ourselves. It’s that simple."

Wealth calculated in billions was enough for them to do this job and retire for good. To people who are retiring, reputation means nothing.

The car suddenly accelerated and quickly vanished into the traffic.

In a villa not far away, Mr. Wycliffe was instructing his butler to book him several boat tickets to the Federation.

The creditors outside were pressing hard now; he had to get out and lie low for a while.

Yes, he was a famous Investor, known for being "a tough nut to crack," but that didn’t mean he was just as tough when facing those creditors.

That was all relative.

If he acted too hardline, today he could pay people to hunt for Charlie (the sister), and tomorrow those same people could be paid to drag him out of here in a sack.

He owed too much money. The only reason they hadn’t laid hands on him yet was, first, because he’d already explained the situation.

Charlie (the brother) was in his hands. As long as they caught Charlie (the sister), they’d get back their principal with interest.

Second, he wasn’t the type who had no ability to fight back. If you pushed him too far, there was nothing he wouldn’t do.

But regardless, the best move now was to disappear for a bit, and see if he could salvage some money in the process.

As for the Federation Government saying they were going to arrest those international speculators?

That kind of talk is just talk. Nobody really takes it seriously.

You have to understand, the people the Federation calls "criminals" are often top-tier tycoons in their own countries. Offending that many countries all at once? The Federation Government doesn’t have that kind of nerve.

Aside from those reasons, he had some other things to take care of.

The lanky old man pushed off the armrests of the sofa and stood up, holding his water glass as he walked to the glass curtain wall, looking out at the view.

Ever since the silver crash, his health had been going downhill. He didn’t know what silver collapsing had to do with his body breaking down.

But seeing his angina attacks come more and more frequently, beyond needing a more advanced medical team to provide cutting-edge, effective treatment plans, he also needed to make arrangements in case something happened.

The Federation was a good place—rich, safe, and powerful.

As Charlie (the sister)’s movements were gradually exposed bit by bit, more and more individuals and teams started flooding into the Federation, and that was beginning to put some pressure on the Federation Government.

After all, they were still in the middle of negotiations at the World Development Committee. If anything happened, it would be a huge embarrassment for the Federation.