47. Havoc #2
“We’d like to purchase this stock,” Vesper declares.
The broker stares at her. “That will be ten Harrow Coins.”
She hesitates and Locke procures his own and plops them on the counter. Ah, they’re sharing. He’s already a Tier Two. He’s making sure she’s able to level up next.
“They’re already a guild,” I whisper in shock.
“In all but name,” Cipher agrees. “They cannot see each other’s stats.”
“That’s fucking stupid,” I growl. “He’s a Bone Breaker!”
“You think I have not warned her of this fact?” Cipher responds. “And yet, the Bone Breaker has saved her as often as she has saved him.”
The ticker tapes start running the line, “PRIVATE ORDERS FILLED PRIOR TO PUBLIC BELL,” and I know they’ve passed the first puzzle. Fuck, I hadn’t gotten that one right for the first two attempts. And she’d done it immediately.
The Wolf leans forward with his greedy grin as the public bell chimes and the other NPCs clamor for what’s left of the stock. “The public adores fairness. That is why we sell them delays.”
The ticker tapes on the floor have a ten second delay. It had taken me so long to understand that the investors on the private balcony have info faster than that. It’s rigged. Always has been. Just as our world is rigged. Those at the top stay at the top. Everyone else stays at the bottom.
Vesper bumps her shoulder with Locke and they move back to the Wolf, waiting for his next instructions. Her eyes are hard as she studies him, and then she pulls her mask over her face. How very . . . strange.
“Round two,” the Wolf shouts. “This is the Margin Feast!” He reaches down and offers a handful of leverage tokens. “Each token multiplies your buying power. Borrow wisely. If the prices dip, damage rebounds physically.”
The NPCs start rushing around again, borrowing for various reasons.
“We put it on the same one,” Vesper says. “Don’t follow the crowd below.”
Her eyes are on the balcony investors, watching as they greedily study the NPCs borrowing to place more money on the Ironhold Utilities and Moonglass Rail.
The laborers borrow to protect their savings, hoping that it’ll protect them should the market fail.
Merchants borrow to compete against the investors up top.
But the top borrows recklessly with what feels like pennies to them, funneling it all into DireFang.
I’ve watched it all before, saw it happen to so many players.
And yet Vesper has already figured it out.
The poor borrow to survive. The rich borrow to conquer. And she’s following the rich.
I watch as they drop their leverage tokens at the Direfang broker and move back to the Wolf.
The Wolf reaches up his hand, and the board behind him reacts. Suddenly, the market drops, and chaos erupts in the room. Small investors are margin-called instantly, their shares liquidated as they lose it all. Direfang shoots up in value as it buys the dumped assets for pennies.
Forced selling feeds the predator fund. It always has.
The red ticker prints, “COLLATERAL SEIZED. COMMON SHARES RELEASED TO MARKET. DIREFANG AQUIRING.”
The Wolf laughs. “Listen carefully, players. That sound is of ownership changing hands. Debt is a staircase. Some climb. Most fall.”
A bunch of the NPCs start to cry, sitting on the floor and holding their face in their hands. Vesper immediately gets uncomfortable, her eyes shooting nervously to those that lost all their investments. Locke barely acknowledges them.
“Round three!” The Wolf declares. “The Dividend Vote.” He claps his hands together and a giant brass voting board descends from the ceiling. “Players must cast votes on one of three emergency market measures.”
Upon the board, the choices propagate. If they choose to freeze the trading, it protects the small holders from panic.
If they choose equal dividend distribution, it spreads the remaining reserves across all investors.
If they choose a priority payout to preferred shareholders, it’ll guarantee the elite investors first claim, leaving scraps for common holders.
I’d chosen to freeze the trading my first time. I’d chosen equal distribution my second. It took me until my third try to realize that the votes are secretly weighed by share class. Even if most NPCs vote A or B, the votes of those up on the balcony count tenfold.
“Freezing the trading helps the most people,” Vesper points out, looking around at the crying NPCs.
Many of them desperately cast their vote for that option, looking at the brass board hopefully.
Many of them get on their knees and pray, hoping for wealth they will never attain.
It’s made for them to fail. It always has been.
Whatever this place is modeled after, it’s clear humanity hasn’t changed much.
Those at the top prosper and prey upon those at the bottom.
“But we clearly didn’t pick those options in the beginning,” Locke points out. “Wouldn’t it be better to choose the equal dividend distribution? That spreads it across all investors and seems fair.”
Svetlana hums in displeasure. “They are forcing you to play their game, Umnitsa. Do not think like a Wastrel. Think like an Ascendant.”
Vesper sighs and looks over at me. “It’s the priority payout, isn’t it?”
I show nothing on my face. I make no indication that it’s the right answer or the wrong. Still, she nods and moves forward to cast her vote for the third option. Locke does the same, and then they stand back and watch.
The Wolf of Wall Street throws back his head and howls as the final ticker starts to run.
“PREFERRED CLASS HONORED. COMMON CLAIMS NULLIFIED. DIREFANG +300%.”
The Wolf begins to laugh, flashing his greedy teeth as his claws dig into his podium. “One gold ballot outweighs a thousand hungry hands,” he declares, just as his shield shatters around him, and a health bar appears above his hand.
“Final decision!” the Wolf shouts, laughing as the NPCs scream and stare at him in fear. The first time I’d witnessed this, I’d been sick to my stomach. I’d puked all over the Exchange’s floor, slipping on it when it came to fighting. It’d been brutal. I’m sure this will be no different.
All four stock terminals open as the building begins to shake. “Choose your final stock, players!” he growls through his teeth, eagerly awaiting the final decision.
NPCs rush to Ironhold Utilities, Moonglass Rail, and Luxor Credit Trust. By now, the pattern is clear to anyone paying attention, and the Beast Bound has caught on. Direfang profits from panic, debt collapse, and elite priority protections. If they select it, it shows they understand the machine.
Vesper stares down at the paper the Wolf slides across the counter to her. “Ten more Harrow Coins, quadrupled with the leverage tokens,” she whispers.
“We gotta do it,” Locke points out. “They’re not real people, Hyena. Remember that.”
“It doesn’t make me feel better about it,” she grunts, even as she slowly walks toward Direfang Holdings.
The Wolf watches closely, hungrily, as she slides the paper across the broker’s desk and watches him stamp it.
The Wolf laughs as they turn back to him.
“Excellent,” he growls. “You’ve learned finance.
” He leaps from the podium, his jaw elongating as he starts to increase in size.
His pinstriped suit tears as his muscles grow.
His golden cufflinks snap to the floor, dancing across the marble.
“Now it’s time to learn about appetite.”
Vesper drags her blade from her inventory again and looks at me. “Are you going to help or just stand there?”
“Looks like you’ve got it handled,” I say, crossing my arms.
She scoffs at me, her eyes hard. “Fucking asshole.” And then she dismisses me.