Too Late to Hold Me Back novel Chapter 1093

...while some people are just so incredibly stupid?"

His assistant replied, "There are geniuses and idiots everywhere.

Take us, for example. We have a brilliant mind like yours on our side, and then there are fools like Jason Croft on the other."

Jason Croft was the head of another international syndicate—the very same one who had previously collaborated with Mishka.

"You chose to ally with the Mavarians, while they chose to make enemies of them.

That proves you're the smartest one here."

"No, Jason is sharp, too. Leading his syndicate to short the Siamese Baht is genuinely a masterstroke.

Given the current global financial crisis, it's a phenomenal strategy."

"But you're still smarter. By teaming up with these Mavarians, we're going to make significantly more money."

Upon arriving at Wall Street, James led his team straight to the WN Exchange—the exact same venue Mira's group had used during their last raid.

Operating under his Eastern persona, James easily booked a private VIP suite for the team. But just as he was exiting the exchange, he bumped straight into Jason Croft.

Out of sheer habit, James greeted him. "Mr. Croft. Good to see you again."

As fellow titans of the Wall Street financial syndicates, they were very familiar with one another.

"An Easterner? How do you know me?"

Jason asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

He had rushed over personally after receiving a tip from an informant that a group of Easterners had entered the WN Exchange.

During the last massive upheaval on Wall Street, Jason had relied solely on his informants' reports, vastly underestimating those Mavarians. It led to a disastrous miscalculation.

The resulting losses had been catastrophic!

Then the financial crisis hit, squeezing his capital to the absolute breaking point. Even now, his syndicate hadn't fully recovered. Desperate to recoup their losses, he had brokered a deal with several other major players to launch a coordinated attack on the Southeast Asian currency markets.

That painful lesson had forced him to take the Easterners he had once despised incredibly seriously.

Their power was absolutely undeniable. This time, he couldn't afford to let them interfere.

However, the moment he saw these unfamiliar faces, his anxiety melted away. They definitely weren't the Mavarians from before. They were probably just another group of clueless tourists here to burn through their cash. Like most amateur investors, they wouldn't even make a ripple in the market's trajectory.

They would merely become slaves to the financial machine.

Once they blew their entire life savings, they'd either jump off a roof or end up hospitalized from the shock, adding another tragic punchline to Wall Street's long list of jokes.

Have you heard of them?"

"I think I've heard rumors."

James replied, intentionally stumbling over his Mavarian words.

His assistant immediately translated for Jason.

"Your Mavarian sounds a bit off."

Jason's assistant noted.

"My parents are immigrants. I'm ethnically Mavarian, but I grew up here in the Javenaire Federation."

"Ah, growing up in Javenaire is a blessing. It's the greatest nation on earth."

"Yes, yes, of course."

"So, do you know those Mavarians or not?"

Jason pressed.