The risk factors were laid bare.
"High debt ratios," Milano said, his voice steady but low. "If the dollar keeps strengthening, their debt repayment pressure will skyrocket. Their reliance on the dollar is a double-edged sword — if the market turns, they could face devastating foreign exchange losses."
He paused, fingers brushing the edge of his folder. His eyes flickered to the next slide.
"Now, onto Ruilin Tech," he continued. "Their core business focuses on exporting semiconductors and smart devices, primarily to Europe and Asia. Their cash flow has been steady recently, and order volumes are holding up well. But…" He drew in a breath, his expression tight. "Geopolitical tensions have disrupted parts of their supply chain."
The screen changed again, showing a tangled web of supply lines.
"Supply Chain Fragility: They're heavily reliant on raw materials from Southeast Asia and the Middle East. Any further instability there, and production stalls. On top of that, they're vulnerable to currency fluctuations. If the yen keeps depreciating and the euro remains volatile, their profit margins could be in serious trouble."
Milano's eyes darkened, and he dropped his voice even lower, as though the words themselves might ignite a chain reaction.
"According to the latest market intel," he said, eyes darting toward Jiang Ting, "some hedge funds and multinational banks are executing massive short positions against the dollar. The capital behind these moves is estimated to exceed $50 billion."
He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then forged ahead.
"The reasons are layered. While the Fed's rate hikes are propping up the dollar short-term, there's a growing fear that these hikes could trigger a recession. Signs of slowing inflation have led some institutions to believe the Fed might end its tightening cycle early, weakening the dollar. Then there's the emerging market rebound — capital is leaving dollar assets and flowing into undervalued emerging markets, gold, and the yen. Some of Wall Street's biggest investment banks are running shadow funds, likely backed by deeper government interests, aimed at undermining the dollar's dominance and pushing for currency diversification. Meanwhile, certain Asian conglomerates are using shadow banking channels, poised to profit massively if the dollar falls."
Milano's fingers tapped nervously against his folder, his knuckles paling slightly. He was trying to mask his unease, but the tension radiated from him like static. Astra closed her eyes and let her consciousness unfurl, a fine thread of energy brushing against Milano's thoughts.
"There are a few figures in the financial report I can't quite confirm," Milano's inner voice whispered. "If I raise it now, everything I've worked for these past few months could unravel. But if Jiang Ting digs deeper, I could end up shouldering the blame… And if I'm wrong, the company's losses will be catastrophic."
Astra's mental vision sharpened, honing in on the scene he described. The future swirled into focus — Ying Group's foreign exchange investments teetering dangerously close to a margin call. The cause wasn't hidden in the reports, though. It hinged on the unpredictable tide of war. A wave of relief washed over her; this wasn't Milano's mistake.
Still, she pressed further, her energy snaking through his mind. A ripple of bitterness surfaced, sharp and raw.
"Damn the analysis team! Every decision I make, they tear apart like I'm clueless. That rookie, Anna — she's been here a few months and already dares to challenge my forecasts in front of everyone?"
The images unfolded: Milano's face flushed with anger during meetings, Anna's cool gaze dissecting his reports, the quiet hum of murmurs undermining his authority. His frustration was a live wire, sparking with the fear of losing control.
In the depths of his thoughts, a picture formed — Milano, standing confidently in the boardroom, presenting a flawless investment report. Jiang Ting nodding in approval, the words "Promoted to Deputy Director" echoing through the room, applause rising like a wave.
The ambition seared through him, hot and unrelenting, blinding him to the cracks in his judgment.
Astra sighed inwardly. Milano's face tells the story of a man riding the last fumes of his family's fortune. If he keeps pushing, the weight of his ambition might crush him — and Ying Group with it.
She shook herself, annoyance prickling. Why do I care about Jiang Ting's troubles? But curiosity gnawed at her mind. Does Jiang Ting know all this?
Finally, it ended. Jiang Ting glanced at her, his expression unreadable.
"Go home alone tonight," he said, his voice clipped, before turning away.
Astra felt like she was floating, her mind and body frayed from hours of telepathic strain and sifting through the Akashic Records. Her spirit had drifted through too many dimensions, and now the weight of her physical form settled heavily on her shoulders.
She poured herself a glass of water from the thermos, took a sip, and grimaced — it was lukewarm. She added a splash of hot water, the heat seeping into her fingers.
Linda, one of Jiang Ting's secretaries, frowned. "Are you okay? It's scorching outside, and you're drinking hot water like it's winter. Maybe you should ask HR for the afternoon off?"
Astra's voice was thin and tired. "I'm fine. Just exhausted. When I'm this drained, I get cold." She glanced at her pale fingernails and sighed.
That afternoon, she stumbled into Jiang Ting's home and collapsed onto the bed. The world dissolved into blackness.
When her eyes fluttered open the next morning, the first thing she saw was two thermoses on the nightstand, steam curling from their lids.
Her breath caught. When did those get there?