In front of a massive capital assault, all of CloudMode International's usual tricks became meaningless. The moment shareholders realized that CloudMode International was facing not only serious internal issues but also an overwhelming capital attack, they all arrived at the same conclusion: sell immediately.
As selling pressure surged, the stock price collapsed even faster. And the faster it fell, the greater the panic became.
In the capital market, whether a listed company is truly strong often matters less than whether the market believes it is strong. If the market believes in you, even with flaws, a little support can help you survive. But once the market believes you're finished—even a company with genuine long-term potential will be torn apart before it ever has a chance to recover.
CloudMode International had crossed that line. It wasn't just facing scandals anymore. The market had already declared it dead. What followed was no longer a simple price correction, but a full-scale stampede—a financial avalanche driven by fear, not reason. For CloudMode International alone, this was nothing short of a localized financial crisis.
Inside CloudMode International's headquarters, one executive stared at the stock chart as the price free-fell. His face drained of all color. He didn't report it up the chain like protocol demanded. Instead, he made a decision. He logged in—and dumped his own shares.
Anyone with even a basic understanding of capital markets knew the truth: this situation was already irreversible. Holding on would only mean deeper losses. As for the company urging executives to increase holdings to "show confidence"? At a moment like this, who still cared about loyalty?
Soon, more executives noticed what was happening. One by one, they quietly followed suit. During working hours, senior management began leaving the building under various excuses—meetings, calls, emergencies. Those who reacted slower soon discovered something terrifying: even if they wanted to sell, they couldn't. There were no buyers.
The General Manager realized the severity of the situation almost too late. His face had turned deathly pale. He immediately issued internal restrictions, trying to stop the bleeding—but it was already out of control. Hands trembling, he made a call.
At home, Ethan had finally fallen asleep after days of relentless pressure. The phone rang. Annoyed, he was about to ignore it—until he heard the voice on the other end.
"Boss—this is bad! Something's terribly wrong!"
Ethan jolted upright. "What happened?!" His voice was shaking.
"Jason Carter has launched a full-scale capital assault on CloudMode International. We can't hold the line—the stock is collapsing!"
Ethan's eyes burned with fury. "Didn't I say it clearly?! If he sells, we buy! If he attacks with capital, we counter with capital!"
There was silence for half a second. Then the General Manager spoke again, his voice cracking. "Boss… we don't have that kind of capital."
He swallowed hard. "Who did you offend? The other side is treating hundreds of millions of dollars like pocket change."
The room fell silent. For the first time, Ethan felt a chill crawl up his spine. He finally understood something terrifying: this was no longer a business dispute. He hadn't offended a competitor. He had offended a predator.
"Everyone is panic-selling," the General Manager said in a trembling voice. "It's a stampede. The market has completely lost confidence. There's no way to counterattack anymore. Several executives have already started secretly dumping their shares…"
Ethan felt his scalp go numb. He hurriedly opened the stock trading app. The numbers on the screen made his vision blur. CloudMode International was already down more than 20% from today's opening price, and the decline showed no sign of stopping. The red numbers seemed to bleed across the screen.
Worse still—one name appeared over and over again. Jason Carter. Every large sell order traced back to him.
Ethan finally understood. This wasn't a capital attack. This was capital bombardment. Jason wasn't even pretending to be subtle. He was smashing the market openly, as if money itself were nothing more than ammunition.
At this point, buybacks were meaningless. Even if CloudMode threw every last dollar it had into repurchasing shares, it wouldn't matter. Jason alone had more firepower than they could withstand—let alone the tidal wave of shareholders dumping stock in blind panic.
Ethan's composure shattered completely. His face drained of color, sweat pouring down his temples. If this continued, CloudMode International wouldn't just suffer losses—it would face delisting.
Worse, Ethan himself had authorized massive repurchases earlier to "save the market." Those shares were now becoming a financial death sentence.
Only now did he truly understand what kind of existence he had offended. Only now did he realize how fragile he was in front of a real capital giant. For years, CloudMode's success had inflated his ego. He had started believing he was one of the great players. But now he understood the truth. He was nothing more than a mid-level boss, nowhere near the realm of real power.
Grinding his teeth, Ethan dialed Edward's number. The call connected.
"Edward!" Ethan said urgently. "Something terrible has happened! Jason Carter launched a full capital assault. CloudMode is collapsing! Can you contact LUNEVA headquarters? If they don't step in, we're finished—both of us!"
Edward froze. He opened the stock chart. The moment he saw it, his vision went dark. For a split second, he almost passed out.
As LUNEVA's U.S. regional representative tied to CloudMode, this disaster would destroy him completely. He would lose his shares. Lose his influence. Lose his income. Lose his status. Without CloudMode, he was nothing. The luxurious life he had lived—the women, the power, the arrogance—would vanish overnight.
Edward's hands trembled as he tried to think. There was no solution. This wasn't damage control anymore. CloudMode's stock had collapsed structurally. No amount of PR, no white knights, no buybacks could save it.
Still, clinging to a dying hope, Edward contacted LUNEVA headquarters. The response came quickly. Not help. But a furious reprimand.
After hanging up, Edward said hoarsely, "LUNEVA refuses to intervene. They won't take responsibility. They say this is our problem—and we must bear the consequences ourselves."
Ethan nearly cursed out loud. Your problem? This started with you! He had warned Edward before—not to push things too far. But at this point, arguing was meaningless.
Swallowing his rage, Ethan said grimly, "There's only one way left. We need Jason Carter's forgiveness. If he's willing to stop… there might still be a chance."
Edward's face turned ashen. Apologizing to Jason felt worse than death. But compared to total annihilation, pride meant nothing.
"…You're right," Edward said bitterly.
Early the next morning, CloudMode International's stock was down over 40%. Ethan and Edward arrived at Skyview Pavilion. Gone was their former arrogance. They bowed deeply, smiles forced, voices humble, begging for a chance to meet Jason Carter.
The General Manager watched the scene with mixed emotions. These two had once claimed to be his "connections." In reality, he had been the one flattering them. Edward especially had always carried an air of superiority, barely hiding his disdain for those outside his circle.
Now? They looked like two obedient dogs. Edward's thick beard made him resemble an overgrown dog, nodding eagerly at every word.
Staff, technicians, and guests whispered among themselves.
"Isn't that Ethan and Edward? They used to be so arrogant. Why do they look like this now?"
"You don't know? They offended Jason Carter—some big shot from the East Coast. They thought they could keep throwing their weight around."
"Jason bought Skyview Pavilion outright, kicked them out, and then shorted CloudMode into the ground."
"I used to think those two were terrifyingly powerful."
"Powerful? Sure. A company worth over a billion dollars is untouchable to normal people.
Everyone present understood one thing clearly: in front of true capital, status, arrogance, and pride meant absolutely nothing.
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