"Bao Sheng, I understand."

Bao Junyi watched the two of them leave.

He picked up the office's long-distance landline and dialed a number.

After a while, a voice came from the other side: "Hello, who is this?"

"Robertson, this is Bao Junyi. How are you doing over there?"

"Boss, you finally called me, my God."

"Did you know? Several Wall Street fund institutions are now jointly shorting Miracle Group. Moreover, market research is well-founded, especially the financial report. Today's decline was too severe."

"Robertson, don't worry, let them go short."

"Now, the happier they are, the longer the queue on the rooftop."

Julian Robertson said, "Boss, are you saying we should take action?"

"Haha, that's right."

"How are your current holdings?"

"How many shares of Miracle Games have you bought?"

"Boss, over four billion dollars has basically been bought. This time, it's all thanks to those Wall Street fund institutions. Not only are they selling themselves, but even retail investors, speculators, and large investors are being driven out."

"Otherwise, I wouldn't have bought so many shares so quickly."

Bao Junyi laughed. This time, these people on Wall Street had really walked into a trap. If the attack had started half a year earlier, there would have been no way to stop them. However, now they had a nuclear bomb in their hands and could press it at any time.

Bao Junyi said with satisfaction, "How much money has the Fat Tiger Fund absorbed from the upper echelons of the US?" "Brothers, I'm begging for some tips. It's almost the end of the month and the rent has to be paid. Brothers, please support us!"