Hanging up the international long-distance call, his phone screen went dark.
The quiet accumulation of shares by retail investors and micro-funds was only the first step.
If he wanted to establish a true counterweight to Vought in the financial markets, or even secure bargaining chips for the future, those shell companies scattered across the Cayman Islands were far from enough.
Zack Vance stood up and walked to his wardrobe.
He slipped off his somewhat schoolboyish gray hoodie, his fingertips brushing past the itchy, scabbed wound on his neck.
He changed into a well-tailored, deep blue bespoke suit.
He had ordered it half a month ago using his first batch of system funds, originally planning to save it for potential high-end occasions down the road, but he hadn’t expected it to come in handy so soon.
Pushing his tie knot to the center of his collar, Zack grabbed his car keys from the table and stepped out of his drafty apartment.
An hour later, Lower Manhattan, Wall Street.
This was the beating heart of global capital.
Skyscrapers with soaring glass curtain walls sliced the sky into narrow geometric shapes, and the streets below swarmed with hurrying financial elites dressed in sharp suits.
Zack parked his car in the basement garage and took a private elevator straight to Sterling Partners Consulting on the forty-fifth floor of a Class A office building.
This was a top-tier headhunting and corporate legal consulting firm with a stellar reputation in the industry, specializing in providing Wall Street giants with turn-key services ranging from corporate restructuring and offshore tax planning to executive recruitment.
Stepping onto the thick, handmade wool carpet, Zack followed the polite guidance of a young receptionist into a corner conference room with an expansive view.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the shimmering waters of the Hudson River were visible in the distance, and even further beyond stood Vought Tower, stabbing into the sky like a sword.
Across the long walnut conference table sat a middle-aged white man with graying hair, dressed in an immaculate British three-piece suit.
Arthur Sterling.
Senior partner of the consulting firm.
“Mr.
Vance,” Arthur stood up, extending his right hand across the long table.
“I’m delighted you chose Sterling.
We received your preliminary letter of intent last week through a Swiss trust.
Our team has already conducted a detailed evaluation of your plan to register a wholly-owned investment firm here in New York.”
Zack shook his hand with a firm, confident grip before taking a seat in a leather armchair.
“How is the evaluation?” Zack leaned back in his chair, his gaze calmly fixed on the man.
After sitting down, Arthur opened a bespoke folder in front of him and pulled out an elegantly bound report.
His gaze lingered subtly for half a second on Zack’s remarkably young Asian face.
Having spent thirty years navigating Wall Street, Arthur had seen all kinds of wealthy individuals.
The young man before him was listed in his file as merely an international student at Godolkin University.
Aside from his high-quality suit, he carried none of the ostentatious aura of old money dynasties or Silicon Valley upstarts.
As a top-tier professional broker, Arthur’s intuition told him that the risk assessment for this account needed to be reevaluated.
“Great Wall Capital.”
Arthur read out the name Zack had proposed in the letter of intent, carefully weighing his words.
“A very imposing name.
According to your proposal, this company will primarily engage in secondary market acquisitions, hedge fund operations, and high-risk leveraged equity trading.
You’ve also requested that we scout a Chief Executive Officer with hands-on Nasdaq experience, along with a full trading team, within a week.”
Arthur clasped his hands on the table and leaned forward slightly, assuming a posture of professional scrutiny.
“Mr.
Vance, Sterling Partners is committed to meeting our clients’ every need.
However, as a responsible consulting firm, I must remind you that in the current Wall Street environment, building such a high-profile financial team requires more than just high headhunting fees and legal registration costs.
The most critical factor is the assets under management, or AUM.”
Arthur spoke at a measured pace, carrying the typical arrogance and reserve of a Wall Street elite.
“The top traders and professional managers who call the shots on Wall Street are incredibly stringent when evaluating new employers.
They need to see a massive, stable pool of capital.
If the startup capital isn’t enough to support large-scale leveraged operations, no base salary we offer will entice the real beasts—the ones who can tear a pound of flesh out of the market for you.”
His voice faded, leaving the conference room in a brief silence.
Arthur’s subtext was clear: *Young man, finance is not a game.
In this capitalist colosseum, if you don’t have cold, hard cash as backing, those bloodthirsty professional managers won’t even spare you a glance.*
Zack picked up the freshly brewed cup of Blue Mountain coffee in front of him and took a sip.
The rich bitterness spread across his tongue, sharpening a mind that had gone short on sleep the previous night.
“Mr.
Sterling’s concerns are highly professional,” Zack said, setting down his cup.
He reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a slim tablet, tapped the screen a few times, and slid it across the smooth walnut table toward Arthur.
“My personal asset structure is rather complex.
To avoid unnecessary tax audits, my funds are primarily spread across seven offshore trust accounts in the Cayman Islands and the British Virgin Islands.”
Zack looked at Arthur, his tone flat.
“This is the latest asset and credit verification from UBS, cross-audited and encrypted by the Big Four accounting firms.”
Arthur looked down at the tablet that had slid in front of him.
For the first half-second, he maintained the indulgent smile of an elder looking at a junior.
He casually lowered his head, his eyes falling on the electronic document bearing a special anti-counterfeiting watermark.
The instant his focus tightened…
Arthur’s smile froze.
Those eyes, which had spent decades reviewing multi-billion dollar mergers, now looked as if they were staring at some reality-defying monster.
He suddenly sat up straight, his facial muscles tightening visibly, his breathing pattern skipping a beat.
The number wasn’t long, and the structure was simple.
But in this financial hub where millions were the baseline unit, the long, dazzling string of zeros following the leading digits still carried the physical impact needed to demolish any psychological defense.
178,000,000.
This was not some valuation report bloated with real estate, stock options, or intangible assets.
This was a pure, unconditional proof of liquid cash.
In this world, centimillionaires were a dime a dozen.
But most of those wealthy individuals had their money tied up in stocks, real estate, and fixed corporate assets.
To be able to deploy over a hundred million dollars in cold cash anytime, anywhere—even century-old conglomerates with deep foundations would need to convene board meetings and go through complex internal liquidations to muster that kind of liquidity.
Yet here it was, a sum of cash large enough to buy half a block in Manhattan, sitting quietly under the name of an international student who hadn’t even graduated from college yet.
“This…”
Arthur took off his gold-rimmed glasses, pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket, and hard-wiped a layer of fine, cold sweat from his forehead.
The subtle condescension and elder-like lecturing he had displayed moments ago were instantly swept away by this violent gale of raw capital.
He put his glasses back on.
The way he looked at Zack had completely transformed, replaced by a complex expression of awe, wariness, and feverish excitement.
“My apologies, Mr.
Vance,” Arthur’s voice grew low and respectful, his posture shifting to one of utmost deference.
“I severely underestimated Great Wall Capital’s strength.
This proof of funds is more than enough to dispel the doubts of any top manager on Wall Street.”
Zack did not pause to savor the change in the man’s attitude.
He interlaced his fingers on the table, steering the conversation straight back on track.
“I don’t need a conventional, by-the-book investment team.” Zack’s gaze drifted over Arthur’s shoulder, focusing on Vought Tower faintly visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“The people I want must have the nose of a hyena and the bite of an alligator.
Don’t talk to me about stable annualized returns.
I want them to know how to use this money to leverage ten times, even a hundred times, on the market.”
Arthur quickly pulled the tablet closer, folding his hands over his documents.
His posture was now exceptionally upright.
“I understand your requirements.
Sterling Partners possesses the most exclusive, confidential headhunting database in New York.” Arthur’s mind raced, beginning to filter through ruthless, high-stakes traders who had been pushed out of traditional institutions due to their overly aggressive styles.
“And one more thing.”
Zack leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.
It carried an undeniable weight of authority.
“The identity of Great Wall Capital’s actual controlling party must be kept under absolute physical isolation.
Whether it’s the newly hired CEO or the lowest-level trader, they only need to know that their backer possesses unlimited firepower.”
Zack looked Arthur in the eyes.
“Every incoming executive must sign the highest-level non-compete and non-disclosure agreements.
The flow of funds must be routed and obfuscated through at least three layers of offshore structures.
If, one day, anyone manages to trace my name…”
Zack paused, his tone dropping into a chilling coldness.
“…Mr.
Sterling, you might not live long enough to spend this consulting fee.”
A shiver ran down Arthur’s spine.
This level of secrecy, combined with such a massive flow of cash, made him instinctively think of dark-web kingpins operating on the fringes of international law.
But as a smart businessman, he knew that in this line of work, some things were better left unquestioned.
“Rest assured,” Arthur nodded solemnly.
“Compliance and confidentiality are our lifelines.
Within forty-eight hours at the latest, a shortlist of CEO candidates matching all of your rigorous criteria will be sent to your encrypted email.”
The meeting concluded smoothly.
The power of capital was forever the ultimate passport on Wall Street.
Arthur personally escorted Zack to the elevator, maintaining a humble posture half a step behind him the entire way.
As the elevator doors slowly slid shut, the respectful gazes of the Sterling staff were cut off.