Chapter 75: Even the Gods Can’t Save It On Tuesday morning, the cabinet meeting convened as scheduled. With only a one-hour time difference between China and Japan, Lu Liang didn’t have to stay up late. After a good night’s sleep, he leisurely arrived at the office. While eating breakfast, he opened the live news broadcast, which showed the second floor of the National Diet Building. The podium was already set up, awaiting the conclusion of the cabinet meeting to announce the parliamentary decisions nationwide. Occasionally, the camera panned to street scenes where citizens, heads wrapped in white bandages, marched in protest against the rise in the consumption tax. Lu Liang opened his trading software. Although the decision hadn’t been announced, the USD-JPY exchange rate was already slipping, largely due to some banks restricting the public from exchanging foreign currency in an attempt at self-preservation. International speculators, like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves, waited for the moment their prey collapsed before launching a frenzied attack. Holding just 5% of his position, Lu Liang made no moves. He planned to establish his position at the lowest point to maximize his profits. At 10 a.m. Beijing time, the cabinet meeting ended, and people began exiting the Diet Building one after another. Surrounded by an entourage, Anshan stepped onto the podium and began his speech with a solemn bow. Taking a half step back to the left, he performed a ninety-degree bow, reminiscent of an ancient emperor issuing an edict of self-reproach. He spoke with deep regret about making a difficult decision: raising the consumption tax from 5% to 8%. This slight pullback resulted in a paper loss of $246,000 for Lu Liang. “It’s not enough. The New Security Law is the real game-changer.” Lu Liang was convinced that the Americans wouldn’t allow their authority to be undermined. The bigger move was yet to come, and Anshan’s ace was still hidden. As if to confirm his theory, rumors began circulating: the foreign minister had met with the U.S. Forces Japan commander. They had reached an agreement on base upkeep costs, with Japan shouldering $18 billion over the next five years—a 8.5% increase from the previous period, covering utilities, staff wages, and training relocation fees. ṞἈNộΒЕȘ “Voluntarily increasing protection money? Trying to buy your way out?” Lu Liang grasped Anshan’s intentions. As the forex market's bearish forces weakened, with the yen about to dip below 107 yen, he shorted another $20 million, bringing his position to 85%, effectively suppressing the yen’s rally. At this moment, the market was uncertain, and Lu Liang’s operations stood alone—like a monkey ruling the mountain in the absence of a tiger. Japan had apologized and compensated, but everyone awaited America’s response. Lu Liang stayed at the office late into the night. Looking through the blinds, he saw Chen Jinchun still at her desk. He stepped out of his office. “Get me a coffee, and then head home. No need to lock up the company.” Caught off guard, Chen Jinchun asked, “President Lu, aren’t you leaving?” “I still have some work to finish.” He shook his head, urging her to leave and stay safe on her way home. Before long, the office was empty except for the light in his office. Setting an alarm, Lu Liang planned to take a short nap. At 2 a.m., the Wall Street Journal published an article. Its editor-in-chief had interviewed Soros, the legendary speculator, about his views on the yen’s trajectory. “To create inflation expectations, consumers must believe that prices will rise in the future. This encourages them to purchase goods sooner, driving consumption and investment, and ultimately reversing the prolonged stagnation in both.” “This is a paradox. A truly free market cannot be controlled. Such actions will inevitably provoke market backlash.” The 80-year-old Soros, candid as ever, criticized the foundational logic of “Anshan Economics,” making his intention to short the yen almost blatantly clear. The forex market surged five points to 112 yen at this critical moment. The timing of the Wall Street Journal's interview with Soros, and his comments specifically on the yen, left no doubt about their intentions. “A finishing move!” Lu Liang exclaimed. Wasting no time marveling at American dominance, he hurriedly operated his account, buying back yen to close his positions. At the moment the White House’s news broke, the USD-JPY exchange rate skyrocketed 13 points to 125 yen. Everyone knew how, in the early 1990s, South Korea’s economy had flourished by riding on America’s dismantling of Japan’s. Lucian’s meeting with the "Ice Princess" was a clear signal—this was far from over. Political pressure coupled with economic suppression opened the floodgates for the yen’s devaluation. Even divine intervention couldn’t save it now.