The skyscrapers of Manhattan were twisted into living candlestick charts in Leo's wolf pupils, and the numbers of the Dow Jones Index oozed amalgam pus on the glass curtain wall. He squatted on the ruins of the federal courthouse, his claws entangled in the quantum communication cable modified from the spine of the Chicago Wolf King - the traitor's nerve bundle was still twitching and sending false coordinates.
"Interest rates are dancing!" Canadian Ice Warrior Jurgen screamed into the encrypted channel, his robotic eye blasting sparks. "Three o'clock!"
When Leo turned his head, the Empire State Building was collapsing into a hydra of interest rate swaps. The nine snake heads were spewing out yield curves of different maturities of Treasury bonds. The 2-year spread turned into electric fangs, and the 30-year tail swept across three blocks. One of the snake heads suddenly bared its fangs, and what it spewed out was not venom, but a holographic image of Federal Reserve Chairman Powell: "The gene pledge rate of the wolf tribe... is now increased by 500 basis points!"
"Save your spit to pay the electricity bill!" Leo swung out the vibranium bone spike, and the quantum code on the tip of the spike made the snake head spasm and spew out the data stream of Black Monday in 1987.
The ground suddenly collapsed into a crude oil futures swamp, and a deformed mecha composed of gold and copper futures broke out of the ground. Its right arm was a flamethrower modified from a crude oil pipeline, and its left shoulder carried the bronze bell of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. Every swing sounded the death knell of liquidation.
Leo jumped onto the roof of a burning taxi, using his wolf claws to tear open the door and use it as a shield. The car radio suddenly played an emergency notice from the Silver Brotherhood: "The global wolf gene pledge rate has exceeded 99.99%... The final liquidation countdown..."
The credit default black hole unfolded over Times Square. This monster made of MBS bond corpses decomposed the Viking silver coin shells fired by Leo into short contracts. The Icefield Death Squad led by Jurgen had just rushed halfway when they were transformed by the black hole into zombies in the shape of the Goldman Sachs logo, dragging the CDS contract chain to counterattack.
"Fuck financial witchcraft!" Leo smashed a billboard, and the nanosilver fragments spelled out the navigation coordinates of the Viking longship in the air. His bracelet suddenly burned his wrist bones, and the memory of 890 AD was like high voltage electricity piercing his nerves -
Viking Leo's battle axe split open the door of the mint, and the molten silver coins poured onto the guards' faces, forming the early emblem of Lehman Brothers. The screams of the Frankish cavalry perfectly overlapped with the wails of the ice warriors at this moment.
The golden mecha in reality suddenly stiffened, and a torrential rain of silver coins from the Frankish period spewed out from its ribcage. Leo's wolf pupils suddenly contracted - his genetic hash value was engraved on the back of each silver coin.
Leo tore the fiber optic cables on the roadside and made them into slings, and rolled up the bankruptcy documents of Lehman Brothers into cannonballs. When the five-year head of the interest rate hydra attacked, he threw the burning document ball in the air: "Taste the cost of your default!"
The file exploded at the snake's mouth, and the subprime data stream from 2008 corroded three snake heads. Leo took the opportunity to jump onto the snake's neck, and the vibranium bone spike pierced into the quantum core, transforming the entire Hydra into a temporary electromagnetic cannon - the muzzle was aimed at the copper bell weakness of the golden mecha.
"Jorgin! Beat the beat for me!" he screamed at the surviving ice warriors.
The Canadian wolf swung the barbed bond yield curve and smashed it on the bronze statue of the Federal Reserve. The sound wave frequency loosened the joint bolts of the golden mecha, and the electromagnetic cannon controlled by Leo accurately hit the seam of the bronze bell.
"clang--"
The sound of the liquidation bell turned into a quantum storm, tearing the commodity fortress into the original state of raw material futures. Crude oil flowed into a black river on Wall Street, gold condensed into deadly dust in the air, and copper futures reorganized into an electrified noose that entangled the black hole itself.
When the credit default black hole began to collapse, Leo's silver hair suddenly grew in reverse. He rushed into the core of the black hole along the quantum turbulence, and the scene in front of him made his fangs tremble - the frozen body of Eric Bloodsworn, the founder of the Silver Brotherhood, was suspended in it, his hands tightly grasping the parchment gene contract, and the wolf king DNA sample pulsated in the ice crystals like a living thing.
"Surprised?" Eric's eyelids trembled suddenly, shaking off the ice from 1023 AD, "Your bloodline has been pledged since birth..."
Leo's wolf claws pierced into the ice coffin, but were bitten back by the terms of the contract. Real-time data popped up on his retina: the genes of wolf tribes around the world were being rapidly rewritten, and the brightness of the Bitcoin symbol in the Antarctic Church increased by 300%.
Jurgen's remains suddenly fell into the core area, and the mechanical eye projected the last message: the genes of all members of the Direwolf Gang exploded, and they were being transformed into living candlestick charts.
"Now..." Eric's frozen corpse moved his fingers slightly, "You choose to be a pledge..."
The black hole suddenly shrank violently, compressing all of Manhattan's financial data into a singularity.
"Or as a liquidator?"
At the last moment of space-time collapse, the bronze ram of the Viking longship tore through the quantum curtain. The Lehman Brothers logo on the sail was bleeding, and the deck turret automatically loaded Leo's genetic silver coins.
"Old man," Leo broke the ice chain on the contract, "Your algorithm forgot to calculate this--"
He smashed Eric's frozen corpse against the bow statue, and the vibranium bone spike pierced the Rayman logo on the sail. The first generation emblem of the Silver Brotherhood suddenly burst, revealing the real totem underneath - a Viking battle flag drawn with Leo's umbilical cord blood when he was a baby.
In the ruins of Manhattan, all financial data flows began to rotate counterclockwise. Leo's retina flashed the image of his mother's clone: X-13∞ was initiating the protocol in the Antarctic Ice Church, and the shape of the Bitcoin key in her hand was exactly the same as the silver lock on the baby's swaddling clothes.
When the quantum meat grinder stopped working, Leo stood on the mast of the Viking longship. His silver hair was covered with metal residues from the financial ruins, and under his feet was Wall Street, which had collapsed into a Klein bottle. Jurgen's half-mechanical face was embedded in the ship's plank, and his electronic eyes were still broadcasting the fall of the Canadian ice sheet.
The sails suddenly moved without wind, the Lehman logo faded completely, and a new warning written in blood-rune appeared: Pledge liquidation completion rate 100% - Antarctic Protocol initiated.
The torch of the Statue of Liberty in the distance suddenly quantized and turned into the laser pointer of the Bitcoin mining machine, pointing directly to the ice field in the south. Leo knew that the final delivery day would not be in the ruins of New York - but in the polar church where his birth weight was engraved into the freezer code.