Emotionless Trading Novels & Stories

The silence was so severe that one could even hear the sound of a pin dropping. " W.. what a..re you t.. talking about?" Mrs Greene stuttered. " Can you stop pulling my legs?" She added not quite believing a word from her son's mouth. " Am a serious mom,as for the details,you can ask your husband." Ezekiel said and without waiting nor saying anything,he strode away leaving his father cursing him for selling him out and leaving him in a difficult place. He didn't want to see his mother breaking down because of him.

"The glitch... it’s not just erasing the debt. It’s erasing the certainty." Across the globe, the "Second World" was experiencing its first moment of true freedom. In the financial districts of London and New York, the high-frequency trading bots had simply stopped. They couldn't calculate the value of an asset because the "Mortal Coil" had introduced a variable they were never designed to handle: irrationality. The markets were no longer being driven by math; they were being driven by people again.

"How do you—" "You talk in your sleep, Vesper." Ignatius stood up. He didn't stagger this time. He moved like a blade. "And this house has very good ears. I've been 'hallucinating' for three hours. Long enough to narrate your entire corporate life to the cloud." "You're lying." Vesper’s heart slammed against her ribs. "You’re a thug. You don't know the first thing about—" "I know that Apex runs on a high-frequency trading algorithm," Ignatius said. He walked toward her. "I know their liquidity is tied to a series of offshore shell companies. And I know that if someone were to flood the market with their internal ledgers... the price drops. Fast."

By the time the markets opened in Tokyo, Sato’s empire was a ghost ship, drifting in a sea of sell orders. In the command center of C-Nova’s Singapore headquarters, the atmosphere was a mix of exhaustion and surgical precision. Camelia sat at the head of a curved glass table, her eyes fixed on the sweeping red curves of the Neo-Nexus stock ticker. Beside her, a team of elite acquisitions lawyers and algorithmic traders worked in near-silence.

20 Silver. High enough to matter. Low enough to move. He listed all twenty-two pieces in one clean action, then closed the interface without checking anything further—no refreshing, no waiting for confirmation that he’d made the right call. Because that was where people lost control: watching, reacting, adjusting too early. He stepped away from the market, not toward a vantage point to monitor the results, not toward a quiet corner to wait for notifications, but away from it entirely. The noise and movement faded behind him as he walked with the same steady pace he’d entered with.

Besides those times when she leaves to take money or spending times with those other men. “Your ex-wife, umm…” “What is it?” Joshua was fearing what butler shawn was going to say. “Please, say that she is anything else but a leecher,” he thought. “She’s a professional trader.” “What?” “She’s a day trader.” “I know what day trader is.” “Oh. Well, Emily trader nearly everyday when she’s not busy with the chores or her daily necessities.” “Oh, so that’s why she asked for that first hour during market hour to sleep in.”

"They’re trading your father’s name on the short-selling market like it’s cheap lumber, Sera, and if we don't block the margin call by ten o'clock, the foundation won't even exist to be sued," Elias said, his thumb flicking across an iPad screen that looked like a waterfall of red and green numbers.

The silence that followed Jade’s announcement was heavy, absolute, and suffocating. On the sixty-first floor, the only sound was the distant, muffled chime of the 7:00 AM market bell echoing up from the institutional trading floors below a world away from the bloodless slaughter taking place within the executive suite. The emerald-green data sheets continued their steady, relentless scroll across the thirty-foot quartzite table, illuminating the pale, frozen faces of the three London solicitors.

The numbers on the tablet are clean, logical, and entirely devoid of emotion. That is why I like them. Algorithmic forecasting models don’t have a fragile ego. They certainly don’t call you at midnight to remind you that your older brother has just successfully resected a glioblastoma while you are merely "playing with spreadsheets."