264-265

 Chapter 264: The Madness of Wall Street

Looking down from the cabin window, the early winter scenery of the suburbs of New York appeared shrouded in a gray haze.

Large, dark patches were dense clusters of trees, while lighter areas stretched out as lush grasslands.

It would likely take another month before these grasslands withered under the first snowfall.

In the city, a maze of highways weaved through towering skyscrapers, forming a finely detailed map of urban life.

The Hudson River sparkled under the soft afternoon sunlight, tranquil and resplendent.

From this aerial vantage point, the melancholy of New York resonated even more profoundly.

At this moment, the helicopter was about to land, gracefully tracing a large arc along the Hudson River.

The blue waters gently lapped against Manhattan’s shores, where skyscrapers soared, suspension bridges stretched across the water, and the entire scene painted a magnificent portrait of a modern metropolis.

Milo's hair still carried a trace of dampness, evidence of his recent shower.

He glanced at the opposite seat, where his maid, Shirley Liu, sat with a radiant smile. Her crescent-shaped eyes glimmered as she curled up comfortably in the luxurious, spacious seat, her face glowing with lingering astonishment.

It wasn’t the helicopter ride itself that had left her in this state.

What overwhelmed Shirley was the lifestyle she had experienced over the past few days, following Milo at the Rockefeller Manor Castle.

This arrangement had long been planned, as it was a union between two prominent families.

Milo and Arianna's engagement ceremony was to be held at the Rockefeller Manor Castle in the suburbs of New York.

The actual wedding ceremony, however, would later take place at the Blackburn Manor in Plymouth, just outside Boston.

Thus, on the day before Thanksgiving, Milo had moved into the Rockefeller Manor with his entourage.

As his personal maid and caretaker, Shirley naturally followed.

To most people from China—or, more broadly, to individuals from outside the United States—"Rockefeller" was nearly synonymous with "American royalty."

And rightly so.

For Shirley, a member of a generation of Chinese heavily influenced by the River Elegy, the United States represented a utopia—a heavenly kingdom on earth, a shining city on a hill.

Being able to live in such a "royal" manor in this dreamlike land was akin to a maid from the ancient steppes of China residing in Emperor Taizong’s palace during the Tang dynasty.

It was easy to imagine the shock and subsequent satisfaction Shirley felt.

Witnessing this, Milo could only shake his head.

There was no saving this generation of Chinese.

Even if someone like him—a true American—tried to tell her that the United States wasn’t as perfect as she imagined, or exposed her to the harsh truths of capitalism, she would likely see it as a necessary price to pay.

Perhaps she would even accept it gladly.

For people like Shirley, only the magic of time could erase their unbounded admiration and yearning for America.

Fortunately, Milo didn’t have to concern himself with the influence of such people—he wasn’t the leader of their country.

As an American, he actually found it beneficial for people worldwide to be like Shirley Liu.

If that were the case, people like him—American elites—could truly enjoy perpetual wealth and privilege.

The helicopter landed on the rooftop helipad of the International Building in Rockefeller Center.

Having already had lunch at Arianna’s home, Milo began working after a brief rest.

Following the engagement ceremony, he had assumed the role of the "temporary martial arts leader" of a coalition within the American financial community focused on the internet.

Within the framework of elevating the internet boom, most parties were willing to give him this recognition.

Thus, preparations for a global internet summit, announced for January 1—New Year’s Day—were already underway.

Jointly initiated by the Council on Foreign Relations, the Trilateral Commission, and the Blackburn Foundation, the event was supported financially and logistically by the U.S. federal government, the California state government, and the San Francisco city government.

The goal was to invite heads of state from around the world—or at least high-ranking ministers—along with bankers, financial leaders, and executives from tech-related companies.

Economists and thought leaders would also gather in Silicon Valley to discuss the future of humanity's internet and technological advancements.

The planning team had been established the night after the engagement ceremony, and preparations were now in full swing.

Milo’s role was minimal—he was more of a figurehead.

A symbol of wealth and the internet, shining as America’s new beacon to draw the world’s attention and focus on U.S.-led technological innovation.

Given that most American financial entities supported this initiative, Milo didn’t need to expend much additional effort.

Instead, he was considering how to leverage his "temporary leader" status to secure benefits for himself and his allies.

Why else would he have invested so much energy persuading so many people?

Was it merely to profit from the internet boom?

Certainly.

But if he could extract additional gains during the process, he wouldn’t let the opportunity slip.

For instance, Milo now planned to use his position to expand Phillips Petroleum, jointly owned by him and the Boston consortium.

At 3 p.m., after handling several business briefings, Milo arrived at a street-side café in downtown Manhattan, within Wall Street.

Thanksgiving has passed, and the even more festive Christmas season is just around the corner.

The Christmas spirit is starting to fill the air.

Speaking of which, life for ordinary middle- and lower-class Americans these days is genuinely good.

There's no shortage of food, no lack of entertainment, and a strong sense of national confidence.

Putting everything else aside, the festive atmosphere of Thanksgiving and Christmas back-to-back can keep most average Americans in good spirits for two whole months.

At the café.

Milo's meeting with David Mellon, one of the key figures in the New York Mellon family, was already underway. David, the public face of the Mellon financial empire and General Manager of Mellon Bank in New York, had been waiting for half an hour.

"Apologies, David. There was a bit of traffic. My convoy got stuck for a while," Milo said as he arrived.

"Oh, no need to apologize, dear Milo. Traffic in New York is world-famous! It’d be more surprising if you didn’t get stuck," David replied with a warm smile.

After some small talk, Milo decided to get straight to the point.

"David, I’ve heard that the U.S. steel market is struggling these days?"

David nodded. "Indeed. In the current global environment, foundational industries are on a downward trend. The U.S. steel industry, in particular, is facing significant challenges. International markets are even tougher to navigate right now."

"What about the chemical sector?"

"It’s similar—mostly saturated. Anyone with ambitions is looking to expand into new markets, like China or India in Asia, or some of the countries in South America."

Milo’s expression sharpened. "What about the petrochemical sector? I’ve heard that Gulf Oil is planning to abandon its overseas operations and focus entirely on domestic business. Is that true?"

David hesitated for a moment, then glanced at Milo.

Milo smiled. "I came across some news recently—Gulf Oil has been divesting its international assets over the past few years."

After a brief pause, David chose not to withhold information. "Yes, that’s correct. Last year alone, they sold gas stations in Belgium, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, Sweden, and Norway to Kuwait’s state oil company.

"They’re also planning to sell over 1,500 gas stations in Western Europe, as well as the Bertolio refinery in Italy, which has an annual capacity of 4 million tons. In the near future, Gulf Oil will completely exit refining, sales, and chemical operations in Western and Northern Europe."

This strategy was public knowledge, so David had no reservations about sharing it. In fact, he was more than happy for the news to spread, as it might attract more buyers and help the company recover funds. Gulf Oil’s situation wasn’t exactly stellar at the moment.

As a key pillar of the Mellon financial empire in the oil sector and one of the "Seven Sisters" of the oil industry, Gulf Oil ranked as the fifth-largest oil company in the U.S. and the seventh-largest in the world.

However, its revenue for the previous year was $59.8 billion, with a meager profit of $1.4 billion—yielding a profit margin of just 2.35%.

This marked the sixth consecutive year of declining profits for Gulf Oil. Additionally, increased oil production from Venezuela over the past two years had driven down international oil prices, leaving major oil companies struggling to turn a profit.

At this time, China had yet to emerge as a voracious consumer of oil and raw materials. Global demand for oil was limited, with only a handful of major importers consuming finite amounts annually.

Although the United States was the leading industrial nation and the top oil consumer, it was also a major oil producer, capable of meeting much of its domestic demand. The relatively low need for imports was making life increasingly difficult for global oil companies.

At least ten years would have to pass before China embarked on its path to becoming an industrial juggernaut, ushering in a boom in global energy and raw material trade.

---

Only the Mellon financial group, with its vast wealth, could ensure that Gulf Oil, one of the Seven Sisters of oil, wouldn’t go bankrupt.

Otherwise, this single decision alone would have doomed Western Gulf Oil Company.

As for Gulf Oil’s international assets, their value is expected to rebound in a few years.

Of course, what Milo values most is Gulf Oil’s business operations in Northern and Western Europe, particularly the talent and management systems they’ve built.

These are the results of decades of accumulation.

If one were to recreate such a business from scratch, it would take at least ten years, even with substantial investment.

Currently, Milo’s Phillips Petroleum Company has, in just over a year, acquired nearly $7 billion worth of oil fields and equity in oil extraction companies globally.

He plans to continue acquiring oil fields, but what he urgently needs now is the ability to refine and sell oil.

If money can solve the problem, and at bargain prices, isn’t it appealing?

It’s already past 4 PM.

Based on Milo’s usual schedule and habits, he would have already clocked out by now.

However, he’s been busy lately with the Internet Conference and his engagement.

He’s paid little attention to the company, particularly matters at Paladin Investments.

Calculating the timeline, Milo figured that his plan for Paladin Investments to coordinate across three regions and short the Danish krone should be almost complete by now.

So, he returned to his office and summoned Nelson, the head of Paladin Investments.

When Nelson walked into the office, Milo asked with a contemplative expression, “Nelson, how much capital can we currently mobilize for the Danish krone?”

“After a month-long buildup, Boss, we’ve entered the Danish krone market with about $5 billion,” Nelson replied.

Milo’s lips curled into a wide smile, radiant and cheerful. As expected, he was a money fanatic.

Hearing about an increase in funds was what made him the happiest.

Even though he had already seen these numbers in the reports, hearing it directly from his subordinate still made him smile uncontrollably.

“Concentrate our forces and short the Danish krone. I’m sure many players are already eyeing Denmark,” Milo said calmly.

“Our month-long actions may have escaped the Danish government’s notice, but they definitely haven’t gone unnoticed by those hyenas on Wall Street.”

“The krone’s peculiar trends recently suggest that others have had the same idea as us.”

“It’s time to charge forward. Directly hedge against the krone’s exchange rate—it’s the simplest and most brutal way to plunder wealth.”

Milo’s expression remained indifferent.

As for the potential consequences of his actions on the Danish people—such as their currency plummeting in value or skyrocketing domestic prices—that wasn’t within Milo’s considerations.

“The krone’s collapse will certainly prompt the Danish government to intervene in the market…” Nelson remarked softly.

Milo shook his head, interrupting Nelson’s concerns with a confident smile.

“Not just us. As far as I know, JP Morgan, Goldman Sachs, Mellon Bank, and First National City Bank are doing something similar to us. I can’t vouch for everyone, but if I make a single phone call to JP Morgan or First National City Bank, they’ll be more than happy to collaborate with me.”

“That’s one of the reasons I’ve taken the lead as the temporary head of the American financial syndicate,” Milo continued.

“At least during this period, as long as there’s profit to be made, the other syndicates are willing to listen to me.”

For instance, Milo had preemptively positioned himself in the Danish krone market.

Once others on Wall Street caught wind of this, they discreetly joined in.

If Milo weren’t the temporary leader, the likely scenario would be everyone acting on their own, each trying to snatch money from Denmark or from one another.

But with Milo as the leader, many were willing to work alongside him to maximize their gains.

It was the same reason Milo could suggest to David Mellon the acquisition of Gulf Oil’s overseas businesses—one of the perks of being the temporary “alliance leader.”

“So, with all of us entering the fray,” Milo said, looking at Nelson with a smile, “how much can the Danish government muster to defend its currency? They don’t stand a chance. On the foreign exchange market, the krone will face relentless selling.”

“Even if other nations come to their aid, adding a few hundred million or even a billion dollars would only add fuel to the fire. If they don’t defend the krone, what do we earn? Eventually, they’ll have to abandon their efforts to stabilize the currency because they simply can’t sustain it.”

Milo’s eyes burned with intensity as he said, “Denmark is more like a private investment fund than a government. Now, they’ve become our prey. All we need to do is charge in and take everything!”

“Understood, Boss!” Nelson replied with a solemn expression.

If Paladin acted alone, they might only nibble at the edges.

After all, the Danish government was quite wealthy.

But with so many companies—even the entirety of Wall Street—involved, it wasn’t just Denmark’s small government that would be trembling.

Even nations like the UK or France would shudder in the face of Wall Street’s might.

“This time, it’s a coordinated operation across three regions. Others will act with us. Let’s get started!”

“And one more thing—let my team of ‘robbers’ know that I’m not a stingy man. The top-performing team in this operation will receive 5% of their profits as a bonus!”

“I’m giving them a chance to become millionaires. Whether they can seize it is up to them!”

Nelson grinned. “Boss, if they hear that, they’ll go crazy.”

“Haha, that’s exactly what I want.”

Milo laughed heartily. “To succeed, you have to go crazy. In Wall Street’s world, madness is the only path to success.”

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 265: Hard to Manage*

After delegating the plan to "raid" Denmark, Milo once again assumed his hands-off management style.

The process of this operation didn’t matter much to him.

The only thing he cared about was the result.

Having finished reviewing reports from other companies, he left the office around five o’clock.

It was sunset, and Manhattan’s skyline was bathed in a gentle golden glow.

The glass facades of the skyscrapers gleamed with orange-yellow light, resembling magnificent crystal palaces.

The bustling streets were filled with hurried pedestrians and unending streams of traffic, painting vivid silhouettes of the city under the twilight.

The Hudson River shimmered, reflecting the city’s splendor.

As the convoy made its way through Manhattan, David, the driver, softly asked, "Boss, where to next?"

The main reason for his inquiry was that Milo hadn’t given prior instructions. Today, they had returned from the Rockefeller Castle in the suburbs.

David was unsure where the boss planned to stay for the night.

After all, Milo had homes scattered all over New York.

There was the estate in Long Island where Sophie and her daughter lived, another villa in Long Island where Milo occasionally stayed with Ariana, and yet another Long Island villa that he sometimes used for entertaining Victoria’s Secret models.

Just in Long Island alone, the boss frequented three different places.

Then there were the top-tier apartments and ultra-luxurious penthouses in Manhattan—far too many to count.

For instance, the Upper West Side penthouse Milo often shared with Charlize Theron.

The Upper East Side apartment, where he occasionally stayed with Catherine Zeta-Jones and others.

Midtown, Chelsea, and Downtown—all had properties where he kept his “hidden treasures.”

If Milo didn’t specify, David usually chose to return to wherever the boss had left that morning.

But today, since Milo had come from Rockefeller Castle, he likely wouldn’t go back there.

Thus, David asked.

"Let’s go to the Upper West Side," Milo said after a brief thought.

Charlize had arrived in New York the night before.

Milo felt nostalgic for the allure of the South African diamond.

David acknowledged and focused on driving. The convoy headed toward the Upper West Side apartment.

Half an hour later, Milo, followed by a curious-looking Xiao Li Liu, opened the door to the penthouse.

Immediately, he spotted Charlize, clad in a gray bodysuit, stretching her stunning figure and long legs while doing yoga in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned the 11.5-meter-wide living room.

Her fair and flushed face glistened with sweat, which trickled down her elegant neck and disappeared into her deep cleavage...

"Tsk, tsk, how enticing!"

Milo raised an eyebrow as he approached her, reaching out to poke her impressive chest with his finger.

Behind him stood Xiao Li Liu and two female bodyguards.

Typically, once Milo entered a residence where a hostess was present, the male bodyguards wouldn’t come inside.

Charlize looked at him with pleasant surprise, exhaled deeply, and said, "Darling, I’ve got two more poses to finish. Wait a moment for me..."

"Take your time. Go ahead, my dear. Let me help you stretch properly..."

"No, stop! There are others here... Ah, stop..." Charlize protested helplessly as Milo began tugging at her yoga pants.

She was aware that a Chinese maid, whom she’d never met before, and two stoic female bodyguards were watching.

But Milo couldn’t care less. He carried on, completely unabashed.

Sweat, tears, trembling waists... an intense experience unfolded.

Xiao Li Liu, standing nearby, was stunned.

She wanted to leave, but since the two female bodyguards stayed at their posts by the door and in the living room, she dared not move.

Recalling her role as a maid, Xiao Li Liu remained rooted, her eyes wide open as she witnessed Charlize Theron—recently hailed by numerous Hollywood tabloids as the next big star—being...

By the evening, around eight or nine o’clock, Xiao Li Liu had changed into a new set of clothes, including fresh undergarments. She quietly delivered a tray of plump, vibrant strawberries to the man and woman lounging on the sofa under a blanket, watching TV together.

"Getting celebrities involved?" Xiao Li Liu overheard as Charlize’s delicate hand reached out from under the blanket, plucking a strawberry and feeding it to Milo.

Neither of them had dressed yet, Xiao Li Liu noted.

"Yeah, but not just yet. Once the novelty wears off, maybe in two or three years, I’ll have TBS air a celebrity edition of Survivor: Wild Adventures," Milo replied, munching on the strawberry Charlize offered.

It turned out the two were watching a popular Survivor-style reality show on a TBS channel.

The show was, of course, Milo’s take on the parallel universe’s British version of Man vs. Wild, now adapted for American audiences.

In this timeline, the British host Bear Grylls was still serving in the military and hadn’t retired yet.

Given how Americans often looked down on the British, Milo chose Paul Salopek, a renowned American adventurer and climber, as the host instead.

As Milo firmly believed, movies made actors, not the other way around.

He was confident his Survivor: Wild Adventures could succeed even without Bear Grylls.

With a strong production team and an experienced crew, the show had already filmed three seasons, with two released to great reception.

Though its ratings couldn’t rival those of American Idol or America’s Got Talent, the show was still valuable and worth continuing.

Milo and Charlize were engrossed in discussing ways to keep the show fresh in the future.

One such idea was introducing celebrity guests to join Paul Salopek on wilderness adventures, similar to the original British version where even high-profile figures like the White House’s occupants participated.

This clearly showed that the show had a script and little real danger; otherwise, such figures wouldn’t risk appearing.

---

"By that time, you’ll probably already be a big star. Charlize, do you want to shoot an episode too?"

"Ew—are you saying I’d have to eat bugs like that adventurer?"

"Haha, it’s gross, I know. But the bugs he ate were cultivated in sterile environments. They’re prepped as props and placed on set just before filming. Plus, there’s always a doctor on hand, so there’s no real health risk."

"Even if they’re sterile, they’re still bugs! And biting into them makes them burst with juice. Ugh, that’s disgusting! No way!"

"So, you’re not into juicy meat bugs, huh?"

"Of course not! Who in their right mind would like something so gross? Impossible!"

"Not entirely impossible. For instance, you really enjoy a different kind of meat—a Super Plus Promax version of a sausage bug that’s just as juicy."

"That’s not—wait... haha, oh, you mean that... hahaha..."

"...."

As they lounged on the sofa, things were about to get heated and escalate to some serious adult business under the cozy afternoon sun when...

The one thing Milo hated happened.

Yep, his phone rang at the worst possible moment.

Not just any phone—his number one phone, reserved for family or crucial allies.

"Ugh," Charlize Theron, her cheeks flushed, curled up and giggled mischievously at his misfortune.

Seeing Milo’s deeply annoyed expression as he begrudgingly sat up, she gently caressed his cheek and teased,

"Answer the call. You can serve me some of that juicy sausage bug later."

"Shit!" Milo cursed but got up anyway, signaling to his ever-composed personal maid, Xiaoli Liu, to hand him the phone.

A glance at the caller ID told him it was his grandfather.

He had to answer—and in the study, no less.

Grabbing the blanket that had been covering both of them, Milo left Charlize huffing in annoyance as he headed to the study.

Back in the living room, only Xiaoli Liu and Charlize Theron remained.

"Can you bring me a set of pajamas and run a bath for me?" Charlize murmured softly, glancing at Xiaoli.

"Of course," Xiaoli replied. As Milo’s personal maid, she was also expected to serve his "female companions" when needed.

Charlize had spent so much time with Milo on the sofa earlier that it wasn’t hard to consider her a mistress of the house.

Xiaoli gently set about her tasks, first drawing a bath at just the right temperature, then selecting a set of pajamas, which she brought to Charlize in the bath.

As she turned to leave, Charlize spoke again. "Would you mind giving me a massage?"

After a brief hesitation, Xiaoli thought of Charlize Theron’s star status and her own daughter’s dream of one day entering Hollywood.

Though the household had maids with professional massage skills, Xiaoli decided to take on the task herself. She moved behind Charlize and began massaging her shoulders with delicate care.

Suddenly, Charlize asked, "What’s your name?"

"Xiaoli Liu. You can call me Xiaoli, Miss."

"Alright, Xiaoli. But you don’t need to call me ‘Miss.’ I’m not qualified to be his ‘Miss.’ You can just call me Charlize Theron."

"If that’s what you prefer, I’ll address you as Ms. Theron."

"Suit yourself. By the way, Xiaoli, have you slept with him?"

"What?!" Xiaoli was stunned, her cheeks flushing hotly, and her hands momentarily froze.

"Ms. Theron, I’m just a maid—"

"Guess not," Charlize said, glancing back at her with a curious expression. "I thought he might have already. The way he looks at you, plus your looks and figure... I’m surprised he hasn’t. That’s unusual."

Xiaoli: "..."

Is that really the case? she thought. But he hasn’t... he really hasn’t...

Yet Charlize Theron seemed to believe otherwise.

Could it be... could it be that he will... soon? Will he really...?

The more Xiaoli thought about it, the faster her heart raced, and her face grew warmer.

But I’m already married, with a daughter! Would he really want someone like me?

And if he did, what should she do?

Refuse? If she refused, she might have to leave.

Not refuse... but... but...

These thoughts left Xiaoli’s mind in turmoil as she finished attending to Charlize’s bath.

By the time she stepped out, she had to change into fresh clothes herself—her outerwear damp from bathing duties and her underwear... well, wet for entirely different reasons.

When the two women returned to the living room, Milo was still in the study.

He was likely still on the phone or working.

Charlize casually pulled Xiaoli onto the sofa to chat.

Meanwhile, in the study, Milo remained on the phone.

"...I’ll be there. The 28th, right? I’ll make the trip," he said softly, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window at Manhattan’s glittering night skyline.

"But Grandfather, does Adams not know who I am? Peggy Audrey Adams is doing just fine with Haley, and now she wants to come over here to be my secretary... That’s far too obvious."

"Do you really think they’d be willing to do something like that?"

Milo had been on a direct call with his grandfather for quite some time.

From when Charlize Theron went to take a bath until she came out, the call still hadn’t ended.

That was because Blackburn had called to tell him—Milo—that the nominal leader of Boston, Arthur Adams, who had originally championed John F. Kennedy, America’s first Catholic president, had passed away just a few hours ago.

The funeral and memorial service were scheduled to take place in Boston on the 28th of this month.

Old Blackburn hoped Milo would make a trip back.

He also shared some of the words reportedly left by Arthur on his deathbed.

Among them was a request: Arthur hoped his granddaughter, Peggy Audrey Adams—Milo’s former blind date and currently a secretary under his sister-in-law Hailey—could come to New York to work as Milo’s secretary.

Of course, the request was for a legitimate, professional secretary.

Arthur specifically wished for Peggy to serve as the chairman’s secretary at Paladin Media Group or Paladin Investment Company.

But just as everyone in their circle knew exactly what kind of man James Stillman was, didn’t they also understand what kind of man Milo Blackburn was?

Peggy Adams was an undeniable beauty, and yet Arthur made this arrangement.

This was why Milo posed the question to his grandfather.

"Uh, I’ll try my best, Grandpa. You know how I am—I’ve got issues when it comes to this…"

"I really might not be able to control myself. How about you just tell the Adams family not to send Peggy over after all?"

When his grandfather on the other end of the line told him to keep his lower half in check—after all, not everyone was fair game—Milo outright refused. He firmly suggested they not let Peggy Adams come at all.

This left old Blackburn speechless.

But Milo knew very well that when it came to this matter, he really couldn’t control himself.

---