Handong: Sha Li wants political achievements? I'll shut down the entire province.

"Bang!"

A custom-made phone studded with diamonds was smashed against the wall and shattered into pieces.

Inside the presidential suite on the top floor of the Bulgari Hotel, the most luxurious hotel in Kyoto.

George William, like a trapped beast, frantically circled on the expensive Persian carpet.

The head of the Quantum Fund on Wall Street never dreamed that things would turn out this way.

He secretly flew to Handong a week ago.

The original plan was to open champagne and put pressure on the provincial party committee compound after winning the short-selling attack on the Lingxiao Consortium.

But now, he's become a turtle trapped in a cage.

"It's connected! Why can't I even log into the United Airlines website?!"

George lunged at the laptop and began frantically typing on the keyboard.

His prized centurion black card sat right next to the mousepad.

This card is said to be able to buy half the world, with no spending limit.

The screen spun around, and a cold, impersonal Chinese message popped up.

"Transaction rejected. The account has been frozen by Handong Settlement Center."

"Fuck! This is the hellish checkout center! You're breaking the law!"

George slammed his fist on the table, his eyes bloodshot.

He then switched to a top-tier VIP card from a Swiss bank, entered the card number, and clicked to pay.

"Deal rejected."

I swiped it sixteen times in a row.

The plastic cards he held that could command respect on Wall Street were worth less than a piece of toilet paper in Handong.

Just half an hour ago, Yan Qingfeng cut off all of Handong's external funding.

Lingxiao Payment Gateway unilaterally blocked George's identity information.

Let alone buying a first-class ticket to New York.

Now, even if he goes downstairs to the convenience store to buy a tea egg, he can't even get a payment code to be scanned.

"Ding-dong—"

The doorbell for the suite rang abruptly.

George turned around as if he'd been electrocuted, thinking that reinforcements had arrived.

He strode over and yanked open the heavy wooden door.

Standing outside the door was the lobby manager of the Bulgari Hotel.

Four burly security guards wearing white gloves followed behind him.

The manager who used to bow to him at a ninety-degree angle had a stern face now.

They can't even be bothered to force a professional fake smile.

"Mr. George, excuse me. Your presidential suite is three hours overdue."

The manager took out a tablet computer and handed it to him.

"Will you be scanning a QR code or paying cash? If you're paying by card, our system indicates there's an issue with your card."

George froze, his facial muscles twitching wildly.

He, the president of the Quantum Fund, was actually asked to pay his room bill by a hotel lobby manager?

"Open your eyes and see who I am! Do you think I owe you tens of thousands of yuan in rent?!"

George shoved the tablet away and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"I booked it for a whole month! I'm calling my assistant right now to have him send the money over!"

The manager took a step back, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mr. George. Your assistant was taken away by the Economic Crime Investigation Team half an hour ago to assist in the investigation for illegal money transfer."

He made a gesture, and the four security guards behind him immediately stepped forward, surrounding George.

"Not only that, the Handong branch of the William Group has just declared bankruptcy."

The manager's tone was cold and firm, and he was very businesslike.

"You are now an unregistered resident in Handong. If you can't pay the money, please leave immediately."

"You dare kick me out? Believe me or not, I'll buy this hotel tomorrow and fire you!"

George was so angry he felt like his lungs were about to explode, and he raised his hand to slap him.

The two security guards moved even faster, grabbing his arms from the left and right.

"Mr. George, please have some self-respect. Otherwise, we will have no choice but to take coercive measures."

Five minutes later.

On the most bustling CBD street in Jingzhou.

A white shadow was tossed out of Bulgari's revolving glass doors by the security guards like trash.

"Ouch!"

George fell on the cold steps, scraping a large patch of skin off his knee.

The cold autumn wind blew along the street.

He was wearing only a thin silk nightgown and disposable hotel slippers.

I was shivering from the cold, and snot and tears were streaming down my face.

Passersby stopped and pointed at him with their phones.

Who would have thought that this foreign old man, frozen like a stray dog, was directing a short-selling operation worth hundreds of billions of dollars just a few hours earlier?

"Fuck...you bunch of uncivilized monkeys..."

George's lips trembled as he hugged his arms and huddled in the corner.

He tried to stand up, but his legs were too weak to support him.

Just then, a pure black Maybach 62S silently glided over.

The wheels rolled over the puddles on the road and came to a steady stop in front of George.

The car window rolled down, revealing an arrogant face.

It was Zhou Yuan, who had just finished raiding the William Group's branch.

"Hey, isn't this Mr. George, the financial tycoon of Wall Street?"

Zhou Yuan leaned back in his leather seat, fiddling with a few coins in his hand.

"The autumn wind in Handong doesn't discriminate. Are you dressed so lightly, trying to experience the extremes of ice and fire here?"

Upon hearing that familiar voice, George abruptly looked up.

A dagger-like hatred flashed in his eyes.

"Yan Qingfeng's lackeys! This is illegal detention! This is persecution!"

He screamed at the top of his lungs, but he didn't even have the strength to stand up and fight back.

"I'm going to the embassy! I'm going to expose you barbarians!"

"Go ahead, the embassy is 80 kilometers away. With your outfit, it'll probably take you until tomorrow morning to walk there."

Zhou Yuan pushed open the car door and strode out.

He walked up to George, looking down at this once-arrogant tycoon.

A crisp "clang" sounded.

The coins in Zhou Yuan's hand landed precisely at George's feet.

It bounced a few times on the bluestone slab and rolled into the puddle.

"I feel sorry for you, so I'll give you some money for your trip. It should be enough for the bus."

Zhou Yuan grinned, looking like a complete scoundrel.

"But I bet someone of your high status would be too ashamed to take the bus, right?"

George looked at the coins on the ground and felt his dignity being trampled and rubbed underfoot.

His hands trembled as he tried to pick up the coin and throw it back at Zhou Yuan's face.

But at that moment, my stomach betrayed me by letting out a loud rumbling sound.

He hadn't eaten for a day and a night.

Hunger and cold completely shattered his pride and integrity.

Zhou Yuan looked at his disheveled appearance and scoffed.

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his inside suit pocket and casually tossed it at George's face.

"Master Yan said that our Lingxiao Consortium has always been magnanimous. We don't support idle people, but we also won't let them starve."

Zhou Yuan squatted down and patted George's blue, frozen cheeks.

"Want some food? Lingxiao Building needs a toilet cleaner. Sign this employment contract, and you'll get food, lodging, and a uniform."

George, his hands trembling, removed the paper that had been slapped in his face.

The sign prominently displayed read: "Employment Contract for Cleaners at Lingxiao Building".

Job duties: Responsible for cleaning the toilets in the men's restroom on the east side of the first floor.

"You want me to clean the toilets?!"

George rolled his eyes, so angry he almost fainted.

"I'm a top trader on Wall Street! I can make hundreds of thousands of dollars a minute! You want me to clean toilets?!"

"Don't want to work? Then you can stay here and stand in the cold wind."

Zhou Yuan stood up, dusted off his hands, and turned to walk into the car.

"Oh, by the way, just a heads-up. No restaurant in Handong dares to sell you anything right now, not even the garbage collectors will hire you."

"etc!"

George's voice was choked with sobs; he had completely broken down.

He scrambled toward the contract and clutched it tightly in his hand.

"I'll sign... I'll do it! Just give me something to eat..."

Zhou Yuan stopped and turned to look at him.

He pulled a pen from his pocket and threw it over.

"It would be better to face reality sooner. Master Yan's rule is that if you lose, you have to hand over even the bone fragments."

Early the next morning.

The entire financial sector in Handong, and even globally, was completely ignited by a single high-resolution photograph.

The photo shows George Williams, former head of the Quantum Fund on Wall Street.

Wearing gray work clothes with the words "Lingxiao Cleaning" printed on them.

He was wearing rubber gloves, holding a blue toilet brush, and was scrubbing the toilet vigorously in the first-floor restroom of the Lingxiao Building, with his buttocks sticking out.

His eyes were unfocused, his face blank; he looked exactly like a soulless cleaning man.

The top floor of the Lingxiao Building.

Zhou Yuan looked at the news headlines on his phone and couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear.

"Old Su, Master Yan's move to kill by attacking people's spirit is too clever. Those guys on Wall Street will probably have nightmares for days after seeing this photo."

Su Jianxin adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, picked up his coffee cup, and took a sip.

His gaze drifted towards the provincial party committee compound outside the window.

"The small fry on the periphery have been swept away."

Su Jianxin put down his cup and tapped the table lightly with his fingertips.

"However, last night's 'nationwide fundraising' incident stepped on the tail of some people."

Zhou Yuan's smile faded, and he frowned.

"You mean the provincial party committee? Is that old fox Sha Ruijin up to his old tricks again?"

I don't know if they'll cause trouble or not.

Su Jianxin sneered, his tone revealing a hint of amusement as he watched a good show.

"All I know is, what is Secretary Sha thinking now, looking at that battle report on his desk?"