Chapter 12: Maintain a High Posture
Luke didn't return until most of the guests had left the side hall.
"How did the talk go?"
"Very well. About 90% completion."
Philip sighed. "I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing you're doing. The political arena is a huge quagmire; once you get stuck, it's hard to pull yourself out."
"It's precisely because it's a quagmire that the sapling can draw sufficient nutrients, and the company can have ample room to grow."
"That's true, but you chose the wrong person. Donald is a businessman, not a politician. The chances of him moving into the White House are extrely low."
"Who told you a businessman can't be president? Just wait and see. That guy is going to surprise everyone."
Philip chuckled and shook his head, clearly unconvinced.
Emily walked over. "What were you two talking about?"
"The future President of the United States. Emily, do you support Donald moving into the White House?"
"I don't support him. I support Hillary."
"Why?"
"Because Hillary is a woman."
Luke paused. "You have a point."
The Bait and the Bankers
As the elegant music started, it was ti for the dance.
All sorts of n and won entered the ballroom, enjoying the delights of high society.
Luke led Emily onto the floor. After two rounds of ballroom dancing, they returned to the lounge. Robert Downs was waiting there. When he saw the stunning purple-haired girl in her formal attire, a flicker of admiration crossed his eyes before he quickly regained his composure.
"Boss, the bank people have arrived. They're in the conference room on the second floor."
Luke nodded. "Proceed with the plan."
"Understood."
Robert nodded to the girl and left.
As an FBI agent, Emily was never short on curiosity.
"What plan are you talking about?"
"The fundraising matter."
"Fundraising?" Emily was surprised. "Is Show running low on money?"
"No."
"Why raise funds if you're not short on money?"
"So things aren't up to you to decide."
Luke took a sip of champagne, saying calmly, "It's like when you're ravenously hungry, and you see a big, fragrant grilled lamb chop hanging in a roadside window. You know it belongs to soone else, but you can't resist the urge to eat it."
"Right now, Show is that lamb chop. So people want to take a bite of the fat at to satisfy their craving, and others want to swallow it whole—at and bone."
"It can't be that bad! Your company has only been around for a few days."
"The value of an internet company is not in its age, but in its future. Do you know how many users Show has?"
Emily hesitated. "Eight million?"
Luke smiled and shook his head. "That's a vague, inflated number for show. The actual user base is 5.2 million, with about 4.8 million daily active users. That's the result of the first two months. Think about it: how many users will Show have in a year?"
Five million in two months ans over thirty million in a year, and double that in two years...
Emily's breathing quickened.
Luke continued,
"There's a famous quote in Das Kapital:
'With adequate profit, capital becos very bold. A certain 10 percent will ensure its employnt anywhere; 20 percent will bring it eagerness; 50 percent will cause positive audacity; 100 percent will make it ready to trample on all human laws; 300 percent will breed every cri, and devils are born.'
"Show is currently valued at about eighty million. In a year, it could reach two billion. That's a 250-fold profit. Who wouldn't be tempted?"
"Then aren't you very dangerous?"
"Not really dangerous."
Luke waved his hand dismissively. If any blind fool tried to cause him trouble, he wouldn't mind showing them what Phantom Fire was.
"By the way, I need your help with sothing."
Luke called Emily closer and whispered instructions in her ear. She shook her head repeatedly at whatever he said.
"No way, I'm not playing the role of a maid."
"It's just acting!"
"I won't even act."
Luke stared at her, pleading, "Just this once."
Emily was speechless. After a long pause, she reluctantly nodded.
Luke smugly raised his eyebrows.
The first ti is the hardest. Once you have a first ti, you'll have a second, and after that, countless tis.
Little girl, you wore my clothes, and now you want to run?
Playing Hard to Get
In the easternmost conference room on the second floor of the Hilton Hotel, the managers from various banks sat around aimlessly. So were smoking, so drinking, and so resting their eyes. They had been in this state for a long ti, and the main player was nowhere to be seen.
Bob Jack of Citibank looked at his watch and said with displeasure,
"It's been half an hour. Is he coming or not? Don't waste our ti."
Robert quickly apologized. "Hold on, just a mont. The boss will be here shortly."
Regan Conner of Chase Bank sneered,
"I heard the founder of Show is a seventeen-year-old kid. Robert, you've really hit rock bottom, working for a kid."
Robert offered a forced smile.
"It doesn't matter who you work for. The important thing is whether the boss has the ability."
The person next to him chid in,
"So, your boss is very capable?"
"Naturally. Otherwise, you wouldn't all be waiting for him for half an hour."
Bob Jack took a drag from his cigar and said flatly,
"We're sitting here purely out of courtesy."
"I understand. I get it."
Robert maintained his smile the entire ti, but a hint of coldness flashed in the depths of his eyes.
A few more minutes passed, and the conference room door finally opened. A dazzling Emily walked in, went straight to the main seat, and sat down. Suppressing her inner restlessness, she said,
"The young master had a sudden commitnt and sent to talk to you. You can tell any requests you have, and I will relay them to the young master."
At her words, the conference room instantly erupted.
The bank managers were furious. They had waited patiently for dozens of minutes, only to be greeted by a ssenger. Who did that kid think he was? Hitler?
Bob Jack angrily put out his cigar in the ashtray, his face dark.
"Where is Luke Shaw? I demand to see him."
Emily glanced at him and said with indifference,
"The young master said: If you want shares in Show, sit down and talk to . If you don't want any, you may leave now."
Bob was rebuffed, and his already bad temper instantly blew up. Without another word, he stood up and walked out.
Emily didn't try to stop him. She looked around at the others.
"You are all welco to leave, too."
The remaining managers looked at each other, their eyes shifting, but none of them left.
Seeing their reaction, Emily couldn't help but recall what Luke had instructed on the way: The people in that conference room are a pack of untad hounds. If you are cautious, they'll bare their teeth. If you brandish the whip, they'll beco subservient. Maintain a high posture, and the hounds will yield to you.
That statent was perfectly accurate. Suddenly, Emily's confidence surged, and her voice beca more assertive.
"We can talk now."
"Who wants to go first?"
Robert cleared his throat and placed a draft contract on the table.
"This is Chase Bank's acquisition plan."
Emily flipped to the last two pages of the contract, glanced at them, and casually tossed the docunt into the trash can.
"Next."
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