Scattered applause echoed faintly through the vast, star-filled conference room. It was hardly enthusiastic, and even carried a perfunctory chill, like a few shriveled meteorites colliding dully in the void.
Although Zhou Yao had successfully presented a contract that would allow Taiyi Capital to claim a share of Ganges Mythology, and had gained substantive recognition from the concept of trade under the witness of the rules, that did not mean he could immediately win the genuine respect of these titans of the heavens.
To the great beings concealed in the shadows, this young man had merely seized an excellent opportunity through some stroke of luck.
His paltry mortal cultivation, barely at the Fire-Stealing Rank, remained as insignificant as cosmic dust in the eyes of these directors, who had lived through countless years and controlled the financial lifeblood of entire realms.
The few directors who had reluctantly offered a token clap looked through the hazy nebulae, their gazes falling upon Zhou Yao from on high.
There was no equality between peers in those eyes, only an almost mocking scrutiny, as though they were sizing up a reckless gambler who had just won a round through dumb luck and might lose every last chip at any moment.
The applause lasted only a few breaths before dying away naturally, as though all the air had been sucked out.
The conference room returned to its solemn atmosphere. The Capitalist remained at ease, leaning against the broad back of his chair, his gold-rimmed monocle reflecting a faint, cold arc of light in the gloom.
"Our initial investment in the Thirty-Two Heavens Realm has officially gone bankrupt."
The Capitalist spoke casually, as though discussing an inconsequential consumable.
"Although the Hebrew Family assumed most of our sunk costs and the backlash of those risks under our earlier