At the sound of that name, Zhou Yao's expression faltered. A strange look quietly rose in his eyes, and a sense of incongruity so absurd it bordered on the surreal washed over him.
The uncrowned king who governed the concept of trade across the Myriad Heavens sat solemnly before him, speaking at length to his newly appointed director about his wariness of the Unofficial History Club and the precautions he had taken against it.
Yet this lofty chairman could never have imagined that the young man he was working so hard to recruit was none other than the Unofficial History Club's chief, the Yin Son of Heaven, who kept him restless day and night.
The change in Zhou Yao's expression did not arouse any real suspicion in the Capitalist.
After all, in the rigid hierarchy of the Myriad Heavens, no one could equate an academy student who had just won shares in Taiyi Capital through luck and skill in a mortal wager with the chief of a concept-level organization.
An unbridgeable gulf of common sense lay between the two.
The Capitalist adjusted his posture, his gold-rimmed monocle reflecting a cold arc of light beneath the dim starlight.
He paid no heed to Zhou Yao's silence and simply continued in his ever-elegant tone.
"At the Gods' Trading Conference three years ago, the chief of the Unofficial History Club bested me in full view of everyone.
"That round not only allowed him to take away a supreme treasure of the Underworld, but also gave him the opportunity to make his name throughout the Myriad Heavens and win immense renown.
"During the three years they were absent, I mobilized every resource at my disposal, seeking to cast an inescapable net where the present world intersected with the Myriad Heavens and seize every opportunity