America's No. 1 financial conglomerate

Chapter 340

"As one of the joint underwriters for this IPO by YueDong Games, I hereby announce the official commencement of this subscription meeting..."

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As soon as the words were spoken, the whispers that had been rising and falling in the room instantly subsided, leaving only the faint sound of the central air conditioning vents and the crisp sound of someone unconsciously tapping the table.

However, this solemn atmosphere seemed to have nothing to do with Ernst. He was leisurely leaning back in his leather seat, looking like a tourist who had accidentally stumbled into a gathering of Wall Street elites.

Just like he said before, he came here today purely to observe and see how these bigwigs on Wall Street, dressed in suits and with slicked-back hair, band together to devour a piece of fat meat.

Holding a perfectly brewed Blue Mountain coffee in his left hand, the light brown liquid gently swirling on the bone china cup, while his right hand casually rested on the armrest, he remained a silent spectator, quietly watching the battle for profit unfold before him.

The scene at the venue was both lively and absurd.

Representatives from more than thirty organizations were exchanging pleasantries and pleasantries just moments before, but their expressions changed instantly once they got down to business.

Some people slammed their fists on the table to express their dissatisfaction, some almost spit on the faces of the people opposite them, and some raised their voices so high that they almost cracked. Their red faces and swollen ears made them look like middle-aged women arguing over a few cents in the market. Where was the elegance and composure of Wall Street elites?

Ernst watched this scene and couldn't help but sneer inwardly. You guys who can get the meat can make such a fuss over a little more. What about those institutions that can barely get the soup? They must be crying in the toilet.

This time, Leap Games IPO planned to raise a total of one billion US dollars, but more than 2100 institutional accounts around the world submitted subscription applications, and the subscription amount directly exceeded 80 billion US dollars, with an oversubscription multiple of more than 80 times. It would be an understatement to say that there were too many monks and not enough porridge.

Of the more than 30 institutions present, 60% were taken directly, and the remaining 40% was distributed to other participating institutions.

Don't assume that there are many organizations that can get a share of the soup; in fact, there are only 418.

With over 30 companies present and 418 others, the total number is only around 450, which is less than a fraction of the total number of global subscription accounts, accounting for only 20% at most.

This means that the remaining 80% of institutions, after all their hard work, haven't even touched the threshold of the primary market; they are just there to make up the numbers and end up with nothing.

He couldn't help but shake his head, thinking to himself: The game on Wall Street is indeed very cruel; you either eat your fill or starve, there is no middle ground.

For this 60% stake, these more than 30 institutions argued from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., barely managing to grab a few bites of sandwiches for lunch before getting back into the fray.

Only when the setting sun cast long shadows on the floor through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the venue did this feast of the primary market finally come to an end with the spoils being divided.

At 6:30 p.m., the Hilton Hotel’s banquet hall was brightly lit.

Goldman Sachs, as the lead underwriter of this IPO, booked the entire banquet hall to host a grand celebration dinner.

The dazzling crystal chandelier in the center of the banquet hall illuminated everyone's faces, and the air was filled with the mixed aromas of fine perfumes, red wine, and gourmet food, creating a scene of luxury.

Everyone present was radiant with smiles they couldn't hide, raising their glasses and exchanging pleasantries, creating a lively atmosphere.

But in Ernst's eyes, behind those smiles was nothing but blatant hypocrisy.

During the day, these people argued fiercely over market share, and representatives from two institutions almost came to blows in the meeting room over a disagreement. Scenes of them setting up tables and shouting insults were staged more than once. Their behavior was like that of shrewish women, showing no regard for the image of Wall Street elites and having thrown even the most basic decency to the winds.

The results of it?

As soon as the spoils were divided, everyone's attitude changed immediately.

People who were glaring at each other just moments ago are now arm in arm, raising their glasses and talking about cooperating more in the future. Representatives from the two organizations who almost got into a fight earlier are even laughing and joking with each other.

The speed of that transformation was as if one moment they were mortal enemies, and the next they were bosom friends who could drink and laugh together.

This is America, this is the business world, this is Wall Street!

There are no eternal friends; what lasts forever is only self-interest.

As long as the benefits are there, even if they are undermining each other one second, they can greet each other with smiles the next.

However, if there is a conflict of interest, even long-time partners can turn into enemies in an instant.

The more he thought about it, the funnier it became. He couldn't help but laugh at himself. What right did he have to laugh at them? In the end, they were all the same kind of people, all players in this arena of interests. It was just that he was better at hiding his true nature than they were.

Just as Ernst was lost in his thoughts, a familiar voice rang in his ear, "Aren't you going up on stage to say a few words?"

Paulson quietly walked up to him without him noticing, holding a glass of red wine in his hand and wearing a meaningful smile.

Ernst quickly waved his hand in refusal, saying, "I think I'd better not."

He pointed towards the stage. Just now, Ryan Ruiz, the CEO of Leap Games, had given a long speech, talking about the company's development history and future strategic plans for more than half an hour. He didn't want to follow in his footsteps and stand on the stage being looked at like a monkey by a group of people.

Paulson clearly wasn't going to let him off the hook. He patted Ernst on the shoulder and said with a smile, "I think you should go up on stage and say a few words. Everyone's looking forward to hearing your sharing."

Before Ernst could even react, Paulson suddenly raised his voice and shouted to the entire audience, "Ladies and gentlemen, please be quiet! Please welcome our American super-rich man, Mr. Ernst Garfield, who has brought wealth to countless people, to the stage with applause!"

Paulson's shout instantly drew everyone's attention to Ernst.

Immediately afterwards, enthusiastic cheers and applause surged forth like a tidal wave, making everyone's ears ring.

After all, who doesn't like to be friends with rich people? Especially in the financial industry, getting along well with tycoons like Ernst, who are increasingly seen as symbols of wealth, might just mean getting a piece of the pie next time.

Ernst looked at the scene before him and felt extremely helpless. He could only complain in his heart that Paulson was not playing by the rules, but he still had to force a polite smile on his face, slowly stand up from his seat, and walk towards the stage.

The applause from the audience grew even louder, and some people even whistled, creating a very lively atmosphere.

When Ernst walked to the center of the stage and took the microphone from the staff, the entire audience gradually quieted down.

He cleared his throat and scanned the densely packed crowd below the stage. "Actually, there's not much to say. My goal has always been to bring returns to the institutions that trust me and the people who invest in me."

"Many of you here today have lent a helping hand to my company, whether it was financial support or resource sharing, and I remember it all. Unfortunately, in this YueDong Games IPO, some people have successfully become shareholders of the company and will be able to share in our future profits; while others, for various reasons, can only regretfully wait for the next opportunity."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "Fortunately, everyone here tonight is a winner; there isn't a single loser. After all, being invited to this dinner means that everyone has gained something from this subscription, more or less. The only difference is how much they won."

At this point, Ernst raised his glass, smiling, and said, "So, since we're all winners, why don't we raise a glass to celebrate this wonderful evening?"

Paulson, sitting in the audience, was the first to stand up and shout in support, "I agree!"

"cheers"

The scene instantly returned to its previous lively state, with everyone chatting and laughing, clinking glasses, and cheering so loudly it almost lifted the roof off the banquet hall.

Of course, amidst this lively atmosphere, the Wall Street elites' usual sycophantic behavior was also present.

They were full of praise for Ernst.

Listening to these varied praises, Ernst couldn't help but wonder: Are these people praising me? Or is it Jesus?

The banquet lasted until 9 p.m., and while everyone was still drinking and chatting happily, a beautiful woman wearing a red halter dress suddenly appeared at the entrance of the banquet hall. She had a sexy and alluring figure, a wasp waist and a plump bottom, long black hair draped over her shoulders, and exquisite makeup on her face. Her appearance attracted the attention of everyone in the room.

Many men stared, some even swallowing nervously and whispering to those around them, "Who's this beautiful woman? She's so sexy!"

Paulson, sitting next to Ernst, immediately flashed a knowing smile upon seeing the beautiful woman. "Since you have an appointment with her, I won't keep you any longer. You should go ahead."

Ernst smiled and nodded, greeted the people around him, said he had something to do and had to leave first, and then walked towards the door.

When the beautiful woman saw him coming, she immediately smiled and went to greet him, naturally taking his arm, and the two left the banquet hall together.

When Ernst got into the black Rolls-Royce parked at the door, the drunkenness on his face vanished instantly, and his eyes regained their usual clarity and sharpness. There was no trace of the languid look he had at the banquet.

Monica Bellucci, the ball player, nestled her arms tightly between Ernst's breasts, her voice tinged with confusion, "Why did you make me pick you up?"

Ernst leaned back in his chair, gently rubbing his temples, and said helplessly, "There's nothing I can do. This party is hosted by Goldman Sachs, and Paulson, as the host, has been pestering me. If I don't find an excuse to leave, who knows how long he'll keep bothering me."

Leaving directly would be too abrupt; Paulson's face still needs to be given.

Ernst paused, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "You thought this dinner was really a victory celebration? It was actually a trap set up for me by these hyenas."

Throughout the dinner, everyone was intentionally or unintentionally mentioning my other companies, especially iTech and MGM.

YueDong Games is about to go public, and Google's IPO is also scheduled for this year. Due to its business model, PayPay has conflicts of interest with many Wall Street institutions, so they certainly won't be interested in targeting PayPay.

Ernst's most valuable, yet unlisted, companies are now only Ivy Technology and MGM.

Monica Bellucci suddenly realized, "So their goal is to push these two companies to go public? Or at least to initiate financing so they can have the opportunity to invest?"

“That’s right.” Ernst nodded. “That’s exactly what they’re after, trying to get a piece of the pie from these two companies. If I don’t find a reason to leave and just make up an excuse to slip away, not only will I offend Paulson in front of everyone, but these people will also think I’m deliberately avoiding them, and who knows what tricks they might play next.”

"Having you come pick me up gives Paulson a way out and allows me to leave smoothly, killing two birds with one stone."

Monica Bellucci was still puzzled. She frowned and said, "Other companies would be overjoyed to get investment from Wall Street firms, some even practically begging them on their knees. But you, they're offering money to you, and you don't want it, you're even trying to avoid it. Isn't that just too strange?"

"Kneeling and licking?" Ernst sneered when he heard this, his eyes full of disdain.

"Never in this lifetime! The essence of capital is to serve enterprises and help them develop, not to be a master who rides on their backs and points fingers."

"You want to ride on my head and poop and pee? Wait until your next life!"

Hearing Ernst's powerful words, Monica Bellucci's beautiful eyes sparkled with admiration, and her gaze towards Ernst was filled with adoration and infatuation.

She loved Ernst's confident and assertive demeanor. Every time she heard him say those words, she felt like ants were crawling all over her body, both exciting and thrilling. She couldn't wait to jump into his arms and have a passionate battle with him.

It is said that men conquer the world, while women conquer men.

Ernst was clearly the kind of man who had conquered the world, and Monica Bellucci's heart was filled with the desire to conquer this man.

The idea was wonderful, but the reality was harsh.

Monica Bellucci gently bit her lip, and a blush crept onto her face as she recalled her previous experience.

Because she discovered that every time she was with Ernst, she was always the one who was ultimately conquered and begged for mercy.

She couldn't help but complain to herself: Isn't it said that there are only oxen that die from exhaustion, not land that is over-plowed?

Why is Ernst such a strong bull, never getting tired?

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