Celebration and Unease

"Gentlemen, we will be written into textbooks, and we will become people that every banker and every businessman must know!"

Mr. He Bosi, sitting in the main seat, had lost all his Prince demeanor and elegant bearing; he was simply a drunkard.

The alcohol made his brain a little out of control, but he didn't care if he looked ridiculous from other people's perspectives. Other people were more ridiculous than him. All he wanted was to indulge in a little recklessness.

Having made so much money, if this can't bring him enjoyment, then what about being written into history books and textbooks? He felt a little dizzy, yet his mind was more active and excited than ever before. "Think about it, gentlemen, how will future generations judge us?"

"An excellent banker? Or a successful banker?"

Under his influence, the atmosphere in the room became more enthusiastic than ever before. Everyone was watching him. To be written into history books and textbooks, and even to be portrayed in a positive light, was a goal that capitalists were also pursuing.

Humans cannot live forever, but a spirit, a theory, or some glorious deeds can help a person achieve immortality. Capitalists also want "immortality," which is something that every intelligent being pursues.

"Lin Qi will be beneath us, like a clown highlighting our greatness. Gentlemen, let us drink this cup to the brim (let us drink this fine wine to the fullest) so that we may be remembered in history!"

"Cheers!"

"Cheers!!"

The already frenzied people raised their glasses and gulped down alcoholic beverages. Some vomited as they drank, while others slumped back into their chairs after finishing, only to quickly return to their frenzied state.

With profits in the hundreds of millions, this may be the most glorious moment of their lives. Some of them could even retire directly after this business ends!

Many bankers do not actually own all the money they have; in other words, most bankers are "poor," and only a small portion of their wealth is their own.

For example, Mr. He Bosi is the richest man here, but about fifty percent of the money in his hands belongs to the King, who wears cheap coarse cloth and lives a meager life like a commoner! His own money is only a small part; most of it belongs to the King and some ministers. Like other bankers, their money comes from investors.

If they hadn't missed this opportunity... no, they couldn't have missed it. They had convinced the Minister of Finance of Gefra to side with them on this matter, and the Gefra Emperor had agreed. They were destined to win.

They used other people's capital to increase their own wealth several times or even dozens of times, and they could retire directly.

This is so much money that everyone is excited and joyful at this moment!

The gentlemen who had finished vomiting casually pulled out a few ten-dollar bills from their pockets and threw them on their vomit. Presumably, the cleaners would not only not curse them for vomiting indiscriminately, but would also thank them for their generosity. This is the value of money and the pleasure it brings.

The revelry continued, and a group of people, already quite drunk, didn't stop there. These bankers, whose average age was over forty-five, wanted to keep partying.

They found a very famous Nightclub, went inside, and invited all the girls to drink with them.

This is something to be happy about; they shouldn't be the only ones happy, others should be happy too.

Some people were annoyed by the noisy gentlemen, but their displeasure quickly vanished when they heard that "Mr. He Bosi will cover all expenses." Some even had the waiters deliver their greetings—if they were lucky, they wanted to have a drink with Mr. He Bosi.

In short, the night of countless wild and chaotic activities came to an end. The next day, people began to pay the price for the previous night's madness. He Bosi struggled out of his sprawling limbs with a wry smile. His whole body ached. His age had prevented him from actively conquering like a young man. Most of the time, he just lay quietly. But last night, it felt like he had returned to the summer when he was twenty years old...

Now, he's starting to regret it.

"I shouldn't have drunk!" he complained, calling out twice, and his butler immediately came in.

Seeing a barely concealed smile on the butler's face, He Bosi complained, "You should have stopped me..." He trailed off, knowing that it wouldn't matter who came at that point. "Fine, laugh if you want. Damn it, help me up, my back hurts terribly!"

With the help of the observer, Mr. He Bosi stood up, changed his clothes, and sighed, "I have a bit of a headache."

He said this as he left: the harm that alcoholic beverages cause to the brain has not yet been discovered, but people will soon find out.

As soon as they stepped outside, two well-dressed young men stood up. They were the girls' "agents." Having witnessed Mr. He Bosi and his friend's wealth the day before, they were exceptionally respectful, bowing their heads as they greeted Mr. He Bosi.

"Don't worry that I'm an unreasonable jerk. I may look terrible, but I'm a man of integrity!" He pulled out his checkbook, wrote down a number and his name on it, and handed it over.

Mr. He Bosi quickly left the place, watched by the two young men.

"What are my plans for today?" Mr. He Bosi, sitting in the back seat of the car, looked out at the street scene and felt the power of this country.

"You will have an interview with a financial magazine at 2 PM, which will last approximately 40 minutes to an hour, followed by an afternoon tea salon that will end between 4:30 and 5 PM, no later than 5 PM. After that, you will have some time to relax, and in the evening you will have dinner with the Minister of Finance..."

The butler had meticulously planned the entire day's itinerary. As was customary, Mr. He Bosi would then offer his comments or make some adjustments to the schedule, expressing his thoughts and attitude towards the day's activities.

This habit has continued for decades and is not so easy to change, but Mr. He Bosi didn't say anything today, which made the butler curiously turn around and take a look.

Mr. He Bosi held the head of the Walking Stick in both hands. It was a pure gold lion's head, about the size of a child's fist, without any other gemstones, just plain pure gold.

Each country has its own style. In the Federal, Mr. He Bosi's staff of Walking Stick was topped with a falcon and adorned with some gemstones.

The falcon more vividly embodies the Federal's yearning for freedom and adventurous spirit, and the colorful gemstones will not make the Federal people feel that it is not dignified enough; they like that kind of Walking Stick.

However, in Gefra, a monarchy, the social atmosphere is relatively serious, so a pure gold lion without any embellishments is more in line with the aesthetic values of the people there.

Mr. He Bosi had many more Walking Stick like these, each with a different style and suitable for different places.

At this moment, he placed his hands together on the head of his Walking Stick, but his eyes were looking at the street outside the car window, as if he was thinking about something.

The butler, not daring to disturb him, rolled up the glass between the driver's cab and the rear compartment to give Mr. He Bosi as quiet an environment as possible.

At this moment, Mr. He Bosi was pondering a question—was Lin Qi an idiot? After his frenzied venting, some pent-up emotions were released, and he began to reflect on this question: was Lin Qi an idiot?

The Federal praised Lin Qi with all sorts of titles, even calling him the leader of a new generation of Federal people; in short, he was good at everything.

Young, handsome, dashing, well-mannered, and a good friend to people from all walks of life—such a person might be suspected of being over-packaged, but is he stupid? Could he not know what he's doing?

If he knew, he would know why he did it.

This question inexplicably surfaced in his mind, making him vaguely uneasy. Everything was going too smoothly for him, as if Lin Qi was his long-lost father who had specially sent him a large sum of money.

But he knew it couldn't be true; there must be some unknown secret hidden within.

He firmly believes that the ultimate goal of all actions is to benefit oneself. No one is foolish enough to selflessly dedicate themselves, and even if someone is, such a person will not become a successful businessman or a successful capitalist.

But he couldn't find any flaws. The only risk in Lin Qi's contracts with him and others was that Gefra would allow him to cash in his bonds before June, so Lin Qi wouldn't have to pay any interest.

But he couldn't take away the money that Mr. He Bosi and his ilk had lent him. He had borrowed the money, not exchanged it. He had to return it to everyone on the contract's expiration date, or they would not only be able to take the bonds, but also sue him.

Lin Qi's risks were too great, but what about his profits? They were almost invisible. This was very abnormal; there must be something wrong, but Mr. He Bosi couldn't find it for the time being.

The sudden trouble made his expression less relaxed than yesterday, but he eventually convinced himself that this matter should not cause any problems beyond his plan.

After all, he had already "persuaded" Gefra's Minister of Finance, and through the Minister of Finance, he had also persuaded Your Majesty Emperor of Gefra.

Your Majesty the Emperor of a country supports this view, then it shouldn't be an easy thing for others to do to change this outcome, right? Thinking of this, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was all just his overreaction?