Chapter 181: Black October - III

All three major exchanges have counters for the six big banks. Financial investors inside the exchange often need funds; if they leave, go to the bank, and then come back with a receipt, the opportunity might be lost.

Standing at the Prosperity Bank counter, the teller glanced at Lynch briefly, then looked away with a formal smile but tired eyes.

Working at the exchange is high pressure and unforgiving. Mistakes mean losing the job at best, or legal liability and compensation at worst.

Two types of people work here: those with backing and those without.

Those with backing become supervisors at the exchange’s business department. They just need to reconcile accounts once a night to finish their tasks easily, get at least an “excellent” rating, and have good chances for promotion from this key position.

Those without backing are now standing in front of the broker.

The broker opened his briefcase, turned it around, revealing neatly arranged bonds.

The bonds were mainly red, green, and purple. Each bore the same pattern and a prominent 100 in the center, indicating a face value of 100. According to the notes on the back, holders could redeem them at the bank based on the original issuance rate, but clearly they were now worthless.

The teller stared at the briefcase containing roughly 200,000 worth of bonds, stunned. “Sir, I don’t quite understand. What do you mean?” Her attention sharpened as she shifted her seat.

The broker sighed, “I want to redeem these bonds.”

The girl behind the counter looked uneasy and shook her head. “Sorry, sir. We’ve announced that Prosperity Bank does not handle redemption or exchange for foreign bonds. You can try the counter next door.”

Nearby, another bank teller sneered at this passing-the-buck attitude, though she would likely do the same.

The broker didn’t leave immediately. He pressed both hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Listen, this concerns the safety of my wife and children. These bonds come from your bank…”

These bonds were sold by the broker’s company on behalf of Prosperity Bank, which gave them a 7% rebate based on face value.

In short, for every million in bonds sold, the broker’s company earned 70,000 in fees from Prosperity, plus at least 2% from buyers, totaling around 10%.

When clients sold these bonds, they got another 2% fee on both sides, totaling at least 4% of the transaction value.

The more trades, the higher the commissions for the finance company, encouraging clients to keep trading stocks and securities.

The finance company assumed no risk—no loss of any kind.

This explains why financial firms have grown rapidly in Eminence over recent years. With trading seats, they attract anyone wanting to profit in the stock market.

Ordinary people have no priority trading rights. When markets were undeveloped and slow, they could trade normally. Now, trades only match inside trading seats, and unless signed up with a financial firm, they have no options.

Having clients makes finance companies the most valued partners for brokers and banks, continuously increasing profits.

Initial public offerings (IPO) and IPO allocation notes follow a similar scheme: issuers give big rebates to finance companies to promote stocks, creating myths of multi-fold gains on opening day.

What happens afterward is another matter. This legal fraud system thrives without threat of collapse, showing they have complete methods to handle ordinary people.

This time, however, Frank was stubborn and only trusted his broker. No matter how innocent the broker insisted he was, Frank refused to listen. “You made me buy this; I’m only coming to you!”

The teller shook her head. “Sir, I’m just an ordinary clerk. I don’t make decisions at this level. Instead of making things hard for me, try to find other solutions.”

“Also, if your family is in danger, I suggest you call the police.”

The broker closed his briefcase disappointedly. He’d expected this outcome. How could a bank of this level care about a worthless small broker?

Knowing this was one thing; feeling such disregard was another.

Muttering curses, he carried the case to their company’s trading hall on the eighth floor of the Opulent Exchange, where they rented half a floor for their company image.

Important clients sometimes wanted to visit, so they arranged for people to be there. The hall had a bulletin board mirroring the exchange’s public board.

Clients wanting a direct feel for actual trading could stand nearby, watching the wild, arm-waving, shouting traders manually matching deals in the spacious hall.

Before the market opened, only cleaners were present. Those allowed inside had accounts with at least 100,000 capital and naturally received better treatment.

The broker entered the manager’s office with a cold face. The manager was surprised but warmly welcomed him.

The broker was an important business manager for the company. Like he told Lynch, he had few contacts like Lynch and gained many opportunities and wealth from it.

“What’s the matter?” The manager smiled and set down his work.

The broker pursed his lips. “I’m in trouble.”

“Tell me. Maybe I can advise you.” The manager remained friendly.

The broker explained everything: Frank’s desperate hostage situation the night before, and his demand that the bonds be redeemed and the money returned to his account.

Near the end, the broker almost begged, “Since we sold these bonds to him, canceling the deal won’t hurt us. We could even take 3% of Lynch’s fee from canceling…”

He grew more convinced. “Maybe we can deduct the loss from Lynch’s account. No, we should!”

The manager listened with a smile. When the broker finished, he pointed to the door. “I suggest you leave and call the police immediately. None of this is possible.”

“Once a trade happens, it can’t be reversed. The bank won’t agree to this. The bonds will just pile up on us.”

“If others find out, more trouble will come. How will we handle that?”

His tone softened. “Frank, what you should do now is call the police. They’ll handle this. Need me to help?”

The manager picked up the phone, finger on the dial. Lynch’s expression darkened.

He knew it wasn’t settlement time yet. Even if Frank’s bonds returned to the pool, it wouldn’t affect the final outcome. The company refused to do this.

Frank’s face turned grim, but the manager’s next words extinguished his fury.

“You’ve made a lot these years. Around 200,000 isn’t too hard for you. Why don’t you try handling this yourself?”

The words bit into Frank like poison.

His face went pale.

Frank still had over 300,000 flowing in his account. He traded stocks too, smarter than many clients, sometimes with insider info.

Before getting accurate information, Frank wouldn’t act. Once he did, he would definitely gain something.

Sometimes there were losses, but overall he made money.

He bought a big house, a luxury car, and enjoyed a comfortable life—all built on the laughter and pain of others.

Now, the manager’s words tormented him. Family was the most important, but money was too.

The manager saw his words had an effect. He hung up and reassured him, “Maybe you should reconsider. From what I see, there are only about 200,000 worth of bonds here. If you can pay that amount to buy your family’s safety, or call the police to handle it, the choice is yours. But don’t come after the company.”

The broker left the office in a daze and stood outside the Opulent Exchange. The market was about to open. Crowds of social elites dressed like him poured into the exchange.

What used to excite him now felt lifeless, suffocating.

Minutes later, Frank arrived at the police station. He chose to report it. Soon, a swarm of reporters arrived because he told some media contacts he was about to drop a bomb.

He was an innocent victim caught in the mess. The company had ways but refused to help. The bank didn’t care about the bonds, yet they watched him spiral into despair.

Then let it all end together.

At least, he kept his money and still had a sliver of hope to solve the problem.