A Conspiracy in the Shadows

Before the dust had settled on the power shift, the remnants of the NLG Empire, still reeling from the shock, began to re-examine the new master sitting in the power vacuum—K—and the even deeper and more unfathomable fog behind him.

For most of NLG's minority shareholders, this sudden acquisition and change of control was less a "regime change" and more a dizzying financial storm. Their reasons for holding NLG stock varied:

Some are local wealthy businessmen who invested early on because they were optimistic about the logistics industry and the Walton Family, and have enjoyed dividends for many years; others are investment funds from the East or West Coasts, who regard NLG as a stable blue-chip holding; and a few are veterans or contributors from the company's early days, holding some "sentimental shares."

Their shareholdings are mostly between 5% and 15%, which individually may not be enough to shake the overall situation, but if they unite, they could theoretically provide checks and balances on certain major decisions during the Walton era.

After the storm, they gathered in their familiar clubs, private clubs, or through encrypted communication groups, exchanging information and emotions. The initial shock, bewilderment at Walton's rapid collapse, and heartache over the plummeting stock price and the resulting loss of their own assets were gradually replaced by another emotion—doubt and contempt for the new owners.

The doubts stem from the unknown. Who is this "Chen Jianguo"? A mysterious tycoon whose existence has been obscured? What makes that Asian man named K the CEO? What qualifications does he have? Is he just a lackey of Lin Feng (a name already circulating in small circles)? Is the acquisition funding clean? Will it run into regulatory trouble?

Contempt, on the other hand, stems more from deep-seated prejudice and business arrogance.

"I checked. That K has virtually no public records! He's nowhere to be found on Wall Street, in Silicon Valley, or in the logistics industry!" In a golf club lounge, John Pittman, a shareholder managing an 8% stake in a local family trust, swirled his whiskey, his tone dismissive. "I bet he's just some thug Lin Feng picked up from some back alley. He might know a little about finance, but he definitely doesn't know how to run a complex company like NLG!"

"That's right," came the reply from Calvin Roth, a middle-aged man with a plump build and ruddy complexion, who owned 6% of the real estate shares. He was Walton's longtime golf buddy and they also had some business dealings on the side.

"Old Walton was intimidated by their underhanded tactics. In terms of business acumen and connections in Washington State, these Asia are far inferior! They think that by acquiring the company, they have everything under control? What a joke! NLG's veins flow with the blood, relationships, and rules that the Walton Family and we have cultivated over decades! Do they even know what 'rules' mean?"

"That audit," said Lisa Chen (of Chinese descent, but now completely Westernized), a fund manager representing an East Coast pension fund and holding a 9.5% stake, pushing up her gold-rimmed Glasses, her tone professionally critical.

"McKinsey-Holt is a notoriously ruthless character. K's sudden surge of activity is clearly a case of 'a new broom sweeps clean,' an attempt to establish authority and purge employees. But such radical measures will severely damage the company's stability and employee morale. Doesn't he realize that what NLG needs most right now is to restore confidence, not internal purges?"

"I think he's guilty," Calvin Roth sipped his drink, lowered his voice, and a sly glint in his eyes. "He's in such a hurry to audit the accounts because he's worried we 'old guys' won't be happy, and he wants to find some leverage against us first. Too bad, he's miscalculated. We've been playing by the rules for decades; our accounts might have some... well, 'flexibility,' but they're absolutely auditable! At least, on the surface, they're spotless. He thinks he can scare us with an audit? How naive."

Their consensus gradually became clear: the newly arrived Asia capital and its agent K were nothing more than "barbarians" relying on their abundant funds and ruthless methods. They might be adept at financial battles and underground tactics, but they knew nothing about how to truly manage a large, intertwined, and deeply entrenched enterprise, especially NLG, which was deeply rooted in local culture and rules. K's high-profile audit was seen as a show of force, a reckless act of ignorance of the essence of business operations.

This contempt, mixed with concerns about potential damage to their own interests (would the audit really uncover something everyone was tacitly aware of? Would K bring in his own people to marginalize these "old guard"?), and a local sentiment of not wanting to be ridden over by "outsiders," began to ferment and grow.

The person who spearheaded this was Calvin Roth. He was not only a shareholder, but during the Walton era, his real estate company had had several "pleasant" collaborations with NLG on warehouse land development, which included some gray-area exchanges of benefits. He considered himself an "old friend" of Walton and was quite familiar with NLG's internal operations. K's audit storm made him smell danger, but also saw an opportunity—an opportunity to unite with other shareholders to counterbalance or even sideline this "naive" CEO.

He first secretly contacted two former Walton Times core executives who hadn't been purged but were equally anxious: Frank Miller, the senior vice president in charge of national land operations, a veteran with 25 years at NLG and a vast network of protégés and associates; and Sarah Jenkins, the sales director, a strong woman with a powerful style, a large client base, and ambiguous relationships with certain Wall Street institutions. Both were resistant to K's arrival, fearing that their power would be stripped away and that some of their past "operations" would be brought up again.

In a secluded private room at "Cedar House," a highly private club nestled deep within the upscale residential area of Bellevue, the four met for the first time. Heavy velvet curtains were drawn, shutting out the outside world. The air was filled with the aroma of aged bourbon whiskey and fine cigars.

"Gentlemen, you've all seen the situation," Calvin Roth said bluntly, his thick fingers tapping the table. "That K, and the Asia capital behind him, don't take us seriously at all. They came in with an audit storm right away, clearly intending to liquidate us and seize power. Once he's finished auditing the accounts and placed his 'own people' in, will any of us still have a voice? We probably won't even be able to keep our current positions and those meager bonuses!"

Frank Miller's face darkened. "He let Howard James and his gang of hyenas in; it's clear he doesn't trust us. Several of my regional managers have already received orders to access three years' worth of operational data, even digging up verbally agreed-upon freight discounts and special route arrangements! How are we supposed to get anything done? What will the customers think?"

Sarah Jenkins scoffed, "Does he understand sales? Does he understand the complexities of customer relationship management? Some expenses that look like 'marketing' are actually 'lubricants' for maintaining relationships with key clients. Can he even tell the difference? By his rigid auditing standards, NLG should have gone out of business long ago!"

"Therefore, we cannot sit idly by and wait to be destroyed!" Calvin Roth raised his voice, leaning forward. "We are the shareholders, the cornerstone of the company! NLG's success today is inseparable from the efforts of everyone here and the vision of Mr. Walton (he deliberately mentioned him)! Now, a group of outsiders have seized the company through dishonest means, and they want to rule us with a set of 'rules' that we neither understand nor despise? No way!"

He surveyed the crowd, a calculating glint in his eyes. "We need to unite. At the upcoming first formal shareholders' meeting, we must make our voices heard, we must check and balance him, and even... make him understand that without our cooperation, his role as CEO is utterly ineffective!"

"How exactly will it be done?" Lisa Chen, representing the pension fund, asked cautiously.

"First," Calvin Roth clearly had a plan in mind, "We can propose, under the pretext of 'ensuring a smooth transition and maintaining business continuity,' to establish a ' Special Executive Committee ' under the board of directors, composed of representatives from our major shareholders, along with key business personnel like Frank and Sarah. This committee would have the authority to review and approve significant expenditures exceeding a certain amount, personnel appointments, and strategic adjustments. Simply put, it's about putting K's CEO power in a cage! Major decisions must be approved by the committee, that is, by us!"

"Would... can he agree to this?" Frank Miller hesitated.

"He has no choice but to agree!" Calvin Roth said confidently. "We are shareholders, and we have the right to propose motions. As long as our combined voting power is sufficient, we can push it through at the Great East. Even if it doesn't pass immediately, it will create strong public pressure and let him know that we are not to be trifled with. Secondly," he looked at the two executives, "Frank, Sarah, you need to stabilize the team internally and resist K's possible personnel purge. If necessary, you can create some 'minor troubles,' such as 'systematically' misunderstanding his instructions, causing some less important but very noticeable business indicators to 'unexpectedly' decline. Let him know that without you, the company will really fall apart!"

A ruthless glint flashed in Sarah Jenkins' eyes. "I can also 'appropriately' reveal to the clients that the company is experiencing 'turmoil' and that 'the new management is unfamiliar with the business,' creating 'uncertainty' in some collaborations. Then, the pressure to meet performance targets will naturally force K to back down."

"Finally," Calvin Roth concluded, a smug smile spreading across his face, "We can also give him a financial challenge. For example, we can jointly demand early dividends, or, under the guise of 'stabilizing the stock price and rewarding shareholders,' require the company to launch a large-scale stock buyback program, thus depleting his cash flow. He has money, doesn't he? Let's see how long he can burn it all!"

Their plan sounded quite "comprehensive," combining the power struggles within the company's articles of association (shareholder proposals), soft resistance from internal management, and pressure from the business side. They were immersed in the game of "business rules" they were familiar with, believing that with their years of accumulated equity, connections, industry experience, and local roots, they could easily manipulate this "Asia greenhorn" who only wielded the auditing stick and (in their imagination) might be up to some underhanded tricks. They even began discussing how, after sidelining K, they could slowly look for opportunities to buy back some of the shares from "Chen Jianguo" or Lin Feng, or even regain control of the company.

A ridiculous optimism and underestimation of the enemy permeated the room. They forgot, or selectively ignored, how Walton had fallen from grace in just a few days. They attributed the storm to "accident" and "Walton getting old," but never truly understood what kind of completely different survival logic they were about to face, one that rejected all "gentleman's rules."

Their connection was not entirely without trace.

Although "Cedar House" is a private club, it is not monolithic. K learned about the key figures and time of this gathering through the local service personnel channels already infiltrated by the "Golden Sun" intelligence network. Although the specific content of the conversation could not be known, the fact that these sensitive figures, Calvin Roth, Frank Miller, and Sarah Jenkins, were meeting privately in secret was enough to speak volumes.

Meanwhile, not everyone within NLG was willing to follow the old guard into decline. The arrival of the audit team, while making many nervous, also gave hope to some middle-level employees who were already dissatisfied with the internal corruption or simply longed for a fresh start in the company.

Some individuals, driven by a sense of justice, opportunistic motives, or simply out of fear of K's ruthless methods, began to transmit fragmented information to K's temporary assistant team through clandestine channels (such as anonymous encrypted emails):

A certain shareholder has been frequently contacting a certain senior executive; a certain department is secretly backing up and transferring certain "sensitive" data; someone in the sales department is privately complaining that the new management "doesn't understand the rules" and that it will affect performance...

These fragments of information, when gathered at K's location, corroborated the intelligence from the "Cedar House" gathering, revealing a clear picture of the confrontation.

K's reaction was calm. After listening to his assistant's report, the corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. It wasn't a smile, but more like a knowing "I knew it" and a hint of sarcasm.

"Looks like someone wants to turn this board meeting into a haggling marketplace." He said to his assistant, his tone icy. "Fine, it's time they realized whose marketplace this is."

He immediately issued instructions. "First, notify Howard James that I need a PowerPoint presentation summarizing the audit findings that highlights the key points and is suitable for presentation to non-experts. Give it to me by noon tomorrow at the latest. The content should be incisive, directly addressing the core issues, especially those involving suspected related-party transactions between shareholders and executives. The data must be solid, the logic clear, and the key points explained in the simplest terms."

"Second," K paused, his gaze drifting to the deep night outside the window, "Prepare the agenda and documents for the first extraordinary Great East. Make 'hearing the new CEO's report and preliminary audit findings' the core agenda item. Notify all shareholders holding more than 3% of the shares that the meeting is scheduled for... three days from now."

"Third," his voice became unusually calm, yet carried a chilling quality, "I need a brief memo about the active shareholders present, as well as Frank Miller and Sarah Jenkins... No detailed evidence needed, just a list of potential conflicts of interest, rumors of misconduct, or... less-than-legitimate personal hobbies. The shorter and more impactful, the better. Let your 'friends' prepare it." The "friends" he referred to were, of course, the Golden Sun Intelligence Network or ABZ's information channels.

The assistant nodded firmly and quickly left to prepare.

K stood alone in the center of the empty office, the neon lights of the city outside the window illuminating half of his profile, creating a play of light and shadow. He needed neither anger nor tension. His opponent's actions were entirely within his expectations, even more "civilized" than he had anticipated, adhering to their self-righteous "rules."

He walked to the makeshift desk, opened the drawer, and inside, besides documents, was a black, hard holster. He took it out; inside was a well-maintained Glock 19 pistol, its body gleaming with a cold, matte finish. He skillfully ejected the magazine to check, then clicked it back in, pulled back the slide, confirmed the chamber was empty, and gently reset it. The whole process was smooth and steady, imbued with an almost ritualistic focus.

After the inspection, he reinserted the pistol into its holster, then securely fastened the holster to his right lower back, carefully concealing it with the hem of his crisp suit jacket. From the outside, there was no trace of anything amiss.

He straightened the front of his suit jacket and turned his gaze back to the window. The night was thick, as if brewing something.

A storm is brewing.

The hunter had already folded up the net, quietly waiting for those prey who thought themselves clever to stumble into the most fatal moment.