Monday's victory is over, but everything is just beginning.

Chapter 390 Monday's victory is over, but everything is just beginning.

After 11:15, the price of September wheat futures broke through 65.5 cents.

As near-month contracts began to rebound sharply, wheat futures contracts also began to fight back.

This linkage did not stem from a change in fundamentals, nor even from traders learning that the acquisition price of the "Livingston Agricultural Revitalization Plan" was 70 cents, but was purely a panic release caused by a reversal.

The short sellers, who were strolling leisurely the previous trading day and had a lot of profits in their hands, were still greedy and wanted to earn even more in the last week.

But after the market reversed on Monday morning, their profits were instantly halved, and some were even wiped out. The pain of loss is far more profound than the pain of gain. This extreme reversal left the short sellers bewildered, and they could only panic and close their positions.

Instead of the usual correction, wheat prices, like a giant ship breaking free of its last mooring rope, surged into deeper waters driven by a wave of short covering.

Old Stone remained motionless, sitting with his arms crossed against a pillar in the trading hall, watching the farce with a cold smile on his face.

The trading pool was a frenzied, adrenaline-fueled frenzy. Short sellers with stop-loss orders at 58 or 60 cents were flooding the market with their stop-loss orders, only to find, to their dismay, that the market lacked sufficient liquidity to gently absorb their exodus.

"65 3/4 cents, buy to close 80 lots! Quickly!"

A pale-faced broker squeezed in front of the counter, his voice hoarse. His client had set a stop-loss at break-even on a short position opened at 65 cents.

However, the market price rebounded too quickly, and the first break-even price transaction failed, resulting in a loss for the client—the second stop-loss order must be executed more decisively.

After all, if a price rebound is too fast and wipes out profits, it can be attributed to sudden market changes; but if profits turn into losses, it's hard to explain.

The floor trader took his order expressionlessly, turned around and gestured to the trading floor, "Market price, buy 80 lots!"

'

However, this shout was instantly drowned out by dozens of equally urgent "buy" calls. The traders in the room were gesturing wildly, their eyes sharp as if they wanted to devour someone.

Because the buy orders are so plentiful, the long positions are not in a hurry to close out. They hold onto their trading orders tightly, and only when they see a sudden surge in prices do they slowly and mercifully close out a portion of their positions.

Of the 80 closing orders, less than half were executed; the rest were ruthlessly skipped. Wheat prices climbed to 66 cents, and a large number of off-market closing orders piled up below this price, forming another densely packed area of ​​orders.

Floor trader Green had just completed his order, closing out part of his and his client's positions. The previous huge losses had turned into break-even profits, and he felt a mix of lingering fear and relief.

But that's just human nature.

After he sold all his long positions, the price continued to rise. He immediately felt immense panic and regret.

Annoyed, he even started secretly calculating whether he would have already made a huge profit if he hadn't rushed to close his position.

Livingston's acquisition price was 70 cents!

Then the futures price will reach at least 70 cents!

What the hell am I in such a hurry for? Why the hell should I close out all my positions at 65 cents?

I finally got a chance to turn things around and make a profit, but I sold and closed my position instead.

In truth, Green knew that deep down he was afraid of a repeat of "Black Monday." He had already concluded that this surge, like the last one, was a complete illusion, and he was using this illusion to recover his losing positions.

Turning a loss into breaking even, you've already done a great job, haven't you?

Green secretly comforted himself, repeatedly giving himself psychological suggestions that everything he did was right and that only by not being greedy could he preserve his capital.

But when wheat prices broke through 68 cents, he angrily loosened his tie, began stomping his feet heavily in the trading hall, and loudly denounced the irrational price increase.

"Damn it! If I hadn't rushed to close my position, I would have made over $3000 by now! I'm such a complete idiot! Why did I close my long position so early?"

Green felt a pang of anguish, gritting his teeth. He had an urge to jump in and buy in, hoping to make another two cents. He turned to look at the sidelines.

Old Stone hesitated for a moment, then walked to his side—

"Stone—sir, are you really not going to do anything?" Green asked tentatively.

Old Stone glanced at him indifferently and snorted coldly.

"I apologize for my previous recklessness. I shouldn't have hit you—" Green said with a friendly expression.

"Get out of here, you son of a bitch!"

Old Stone cursed, and Green didn't dare to talk back, so he quickly left.

Old Stone still looked angry, but he knew the opportunity to pay back the debt hadn't arrived yet; he just needed to wait a little longer.

People will pay any price for their greed, including their dignity.

He will get back the humiliation Green humiliated him with interest.

"Mr. Livingston, keep going! Stir up a storm, I'm waiting for you to vindicate me! And I'm waiting for you to create opportunities for me!"

Old Stone prayed silently for his best client.

New York, James Keane's office.

Time seemed to stand still.

The assistant rushed back into the room, his face deathly pale. "Sir! A call from Chicago—our closing order—the market is changing too fast to execute at the specified price! The first batch of 200 lots was only in the 62-64 cent range, and less than 100 were filled."

hand! "

Keane stood with his back to him by the window, his shoulders taut like a rock.

Outside the window, the orderly streets of Manhattan stood in stark contrast to the frenzied scenes of the Chicago trading pool in his mind. He could picture his stop-loss orders being driven and devoured like sheep by hungry wolves.

Keane had recovered from his earlier rage and frustration. His expression remained unchanged. "Cancel all limit orders, close 500 lots at market price! The rest—wait for now."

"But sir, market orders might be closed at a very high price—near the market close!"

"Execute the order!" Keane whirled around, his face resolute. "Every minute of hesitation costs us tens of thousands of dollars! Don't you know how long the delay is from here to Chicago?"

The assistant scrambled out. Keane walked to the price chart machine, staring blankly at the stock market quotes being printed on the tape, even though it couldn't display the real-time price of Chicago wheat.

Keane's fingers held up the spitting-out paper strips, but his thoughts were on the wildly beating heart in Chicago, thousands of miles away!

1250 short positions! The average cost of opening the position is approximately 84 cents.

He used to have millions in profits, but now almost half of them have vanished.

The number sent a jolt through his stomach. No true master trader can escape the torment of emotions; even someone as formidable as himself could only suppress those feelings of greed and fear to the extreme.

Keane's old butler once said that his desire to suppress Larry Livingston, whom he had never met before, was irrational and a result of a bad mentality.

Keane, of course, denied it, believing he had made the right choice by suppressing his potential rivals.

But deep down, Keane knew he was paying the price for his irrational behavior—if he hadn't wanted to wipe out Livingston's account, he would have been cashing in his profits last week, as is typical of top traders.

If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be in such a passive position now!

But what terrifies him now is not the halved profits, but the rival who created all of this—Larry Livingston.

This young man not only saw through the market's fragile structure but also made precise use of it. Furthermore, he used the "Livingston Plan" as a calculated move to lay a noose in the spot market.

Was I suppressing him? Or enlightening him? Or even personally guiding him towards becoming a top-tier playmaker?!

He's not only harder to deal with now, but he's even started using spot trading to link futures and spot markets—

No! This can't go on! Wall Street won't tolerate such ghostly figures!

I'm not doing this for myself; I'm doing it for Wall Street as a whole. If someone like that is allowed to continue growing in power, everyone will fall under his control.

Keane convinced himself.

Livingston————

Keane chewed on the name, and amidst his anger, a chilling admiration arose. Then, an even more intense killing intent replaced that rationality.

This debt must be settled!

The market will close at 12 noon.

On the Chicago Mercantile Exchange's price board, the September wheat contract was priced at 70 cents.

The panic among short sellers reached a new peak, with some institutional short sellers who were late to the game also joining the liquidation process. Selling pressure (buying orders resulting from short covering) surged in like a tsunami.

However, this tsunami was abruptly halted by the midday market closure. The sudden stop gave everyone a period of calm. But at this moment, whether you were a bull who had made money, or a bear who had lost money or had half their profits halved, who could truly remain calm?

What?

Larry remained standing on the second floor, looking down at the trading hall. He hadn't moved an inch in the three hours since it started.

"Want to grab something to eat?" Matthew asked.

Larry shook his head and remained silent.

"Shall I get you a cup of coffee?"

"No need—oh, give me a cigar!"

Larry lit a cigar, took a puff, his eyes deep, the smoke tasteless.

"Make them close out their earliest long positions!" Larry suddenly said.

Matthew paused for a moment, then nodded in agreement, "Okay! What's wrong—do you think the price is a bit high?"

"I can only feel the market fluctuations when I stand here—" Larry pointed to the gradually quieting trading hall on the first floor, seemingly ignoring the question. "Things won't be that simple. The short sellers were just caught off guard. This battle can't end so quickly."

"So, should we let them close out half of their positions? Lock in profits," Matthew asked.

"Half the position, but it doesn't matter—it's not about profits." Larry's eyes were still fixed on the distant air, as if he was constantly thinking, and he continued, "Making money doesn't make me happy—I need feedback from the other party so that I can feel at ease placing the next piece."

At 1 p.m., the price broke through 70 cents and began to challenge the high of 73 cents.

Meanwhile, the traders Larry had planted in the pool had already stopped actively buying and had begun quietly...

Sell ​​off a portion of the long positions in batches to close them out.

There was fierce competition for the price, which hovered around 73 cents.

After a midday of deliberation, many short sellers have withdrawn their unexecuted closing orders. Some bold day traders and new short sellers attempting to "test the top" believe that prices are already too high and have begun to tentatively short sell.

But at that moment, Keane's market order to close the position entered the market.

500 lots! Market price!

At this critical moment, Keane's market order to close the position became the most powerful propellant, instantly shattering the newly formed balance between bulls and bears.

A market buy order of 500 lots flooded in, sweeping away all the sell orders between 73.25 cents and 74.53 cents in 4 minutes, and wheat prices began to climb back up to 75 cents.

However, this price level also represents a temporary high. Due to the lack of active buying and the excited bulls taking advantage of the high point to sell and close their positions—

The 75-cent mark became a lonely high ground that was captured and then quickly abandoned. This led to a gradual decline in prices throughout the afternoon.

By the close of trading at 9 p.m., September wheat was trading at 71 and a quarter cents.

Compared to the raging market in the morning and the spectacular opening in the afternoon, the afternoon session was relatively quiet.

But those in the know understand that the market remains turbulent. The real battle will continue into the final week.

Most traders in the market were all smiles, because their long positions were generally trapped, and now that wheat prices have rebounded, many people have recovered their losses, and some shrewd people have taken the opportunity to go long and even made a small profit.

"Old Stone! With such a good market today, did you really not place a single trade?" someone asked.

Some people couldn't help but lament, "It's a pity George went bankrupt; he even sold his floor trader license. Otherwise, he would definitely have made a fortune today! He was so bullish on wheat—"

Old Stone didn't answer any questions. During the trading session, he noticed Larry Livingston on the second floor. After the market closed, he kept glancing at that figure that looked like a stone sculpture.

Throughout the entire transaction, at least after Old Stone noticed him, Mr. Livingston remained completely still.

His focus reminded old Stone of Napoleon, whom his father had described—Napoleon, the most powerful and brilliant military leader in modern Europe, was also just as focused.

After the market closed, old Stone continued to keep an eye on Larry. Until the other man suddenly straightened up—

Old Stone quickly focused his gaze on Larry's face, who had already noticed his gaze and gave Old Stone a friendly smile.

Their eyes met, and old Stone quickly bowed and smiled, meaning that Stone Corporation was ready to follow your instructions at any time!

Larry responded with a slight nod, as if to say, "Don't rush, there will be a time when we need your help."

After the market closed, the head of the institutional trading desk, the veteran trader standing behind a dozen or so traders, brought the account's profit and loss for the day. A total of 855 long positions were established today, with an average cost of about 61.5 cents. 425 positions were closed during the session, with an average transaction price of 74 cents.

Larry's institutional account generated a total of approximately $47 in paper profits on Monday alone.

其中，已经平仓的425手多单盈利锁定利润26万5625美元。剩余430手浮动盈利是20万9625美元。

With a total position of over $200 million, Larry earned nearly $50 in a single day, and his actions altered market expectations. Even seasoned traders who had been trading in Chicago for years couldn't hide their admiration for Larry.

Faced with the old man's praise, Larry simply said thank you. After the old man left, Matthew smiled and said, "A $47 unrealized profit is truly astonishing!"

Larry shook his head and said, "I've used such a large amount of capital to buy in the spot market while keeping an eye on the market here."

A mere $47—that's just an appetizer.

Matthew nodded. "So, are you still going to wait for the short sellers' response?"

“Yes! Making small money relies on shrewd calculations, but to make big money, you need a good opponent—” Larry turned to Matthew, “Do you know why I’m standing there watching the market? I want to feel the pulse of the market myself—a large portion of the market’s holdings are held by Wall Street, and they won’t accept defeat.”

"Will they retaliate? How? By pooling their funds to suppress the market again?" Matthew pressed.

"I don't know, but I'm not afraid—" Larry said with a smile, "because they're so far away from here. A fifteen-minute difference can change a lot of things, and that's the key to my victory."