102: Chapter 102 The Wolf of Wall Street? I am the Tyrannosaurus Rex of Wall Street
The night sky of Manhattan was torn apart by countless neon lights, but at an altitude of four hundred meters, all the clamor seemed so distant and insignificant.
In the top-floor banquet hall of the Titan Center, the massive crystal chandelier cast light like scattered diamonds.
The carpet here was thick enough to sink to one's ankles, and the air was filled with the sweet, cloying scent of top-grade black truffles intertwined with vintage Burgundy wine.
It was the scent of the pinnacle of power.
Tonight, the most powerful group of people in New York had all arrived.
Wall Street's top actuaries, the helmsmen controlling tens of billions in hedge funds, and the heirs of old-money families who manipulated votes from behind the scenes were all present.
They held their glasses, their eyes hiding scrutiny and unease, whispering about the "border barbarian" who had yet to appear.
"I heard he just dropped ten billion in cash to buy this building?"
"A typical ploy of an upstart, just posturing."
"But Robert from the Johnson & Johnson Group is still under investigation, and that recording... it doesn't seem like something an upstart could get their hands on."
In the center of the crowd, an elderly man with a full head of silver hair and wearing a hand-tailored tuxedo sipped his wine.
He was Douglas, the recognized "Falcon" of Wall Street, who managed the largest private equity fund in North America.
"In New York, money is just a number; rules are God."
Douglas snorted coldly, his aged fingers tapping lightly against his wine glass. "An Oriental boy who crawled out of the mud of Mexico thinks that just by changing into a designer suit, he can sit at our table?"
"Be careful he doesn't get eaten until not even his bones are left."
Those around him nodded in agreement, their laughter carrying a false sense of confidence born from huddling together for warmth.
Just then.
"Bang—"
The two heavy mahogany doors were pushed open forcefully by two bodyguards in black suits.
That was not the force of bodyguards pushing a door.
That was power being unleashed.
That pair of T-103 Mass-Produced Tyrant bodyguards, towering like iron towers, didn't even spare a glance at the distinguished guests in the hall.
They simply stood guard at the entrance like stone statues, the murderous aura they exuded causing the previously warm banquet hall to instantly cool down.
Chen Yuan walked in.
He was still wearing that dark gray three-piece suit, his gait steady.
His body, enhanced by the perfect version of the T-Virus, gave him a heavy sense of oppression with every step he took.
Behind him, Alice wore a black evening gown, as cold and aloof as a fairy from the moon palace.
But those familiar with her knew that this delicate flower could snap anyone's neck in the next second.
Chen Yuan did not go to exchange pleasantries with those big shots.
He walked straight toward the long table in the center of the hall that symbolized the seat of honor.
"Good evening, everyone."
Chen Yuan's voice was not loud.
Yet it was like a heavy hammer, striking precisely on everyone's eardrums.
The noisy chatter ceased abruptly.
Chen Yuan took the initiative to sit in the massive armchair, legs spread apart in a wild posture.
He casually picked up an unopened bottle of Screaming Eagle wine from the table.
"Bang!"
The bottle cap was crushed by his bare hand.
He took a large gulp directly from the bottle, his movements crude yet carrying an aura of dominance that made it impossible to look directly at him.
"Mr. Chen, drinking in this manner is a bit discourteous."
Douglas frowned and stepped forward, his eyes cold. "This is New York; what we value here is decorum and rules, not your San Verde, which is full of smoke and mud."
Chen Yuan wiped the wine stain from the corner of his mouth.
He looked up at Douglas, his eyes shimmering with a faint blue light.
"Rules?"
Chen Yuan chuckled, his laughter filled with mockery. "Mr. Douglas, when you speak of rules, are you referring to the illegal capital chains you used when you shorted the ruble in 1998?"
"Or are you referring to your 'little trick' of embezzling five hundred million in provident funds last year to cover up your losses?"
Douglas's face turned pale instantly.
His pupils contracted violently, and his hand holding the wine glass began to tremble uncontrollably.
That was a secret he had hidden in the deepest part of his safe.
It was an absolute forbidden zone that even the Red Cross couldn't investigate.
"You... what are you talking nonsense about!"
"Red Queen."
Chen Yuan ignored him and just called out softly in his mind.
A holographic projection instantly unfolded in the center of the hall.
Countless dense transaction records, proof of illegal transfers, and even audio clips of Douglas's trysts with his mistress were presented before everyone in a highly impactful way.
Gasps rang out one after another throughout the hall.
Those so-called elites were now all sitting on pins and needles.
The way they looked at Chen Yuan changed from disdain and scrutiny to extreme fear.
What this man held in his hand.
Was not a check, but the gallows for each and every one of them.
"What exactly do you want to do?"
Another investment tycoon stood out, his voice hoarse. "Mr. Chen, are you declaring war on the entire Wall Street?"
"Declaring war?"
Chen Yuan leaned back in his chair, his eyes becoming playful.
"Don't think too highly of yourselves."
"'Wolves' like you who only know how to tap numbers on a keyboard and play with bubbles are, in my eyes..."
He stood up, looking down at the shivering rich men from a position of superiority.
"At best, just a bunch of flies circling over rotting meat."
He walked step by step to Douglas.
With a gentle flick of his finger, the wine glass in Douglas's hand shattered instantly, and the red wine splashed all over the floor.
"Wolf of Wall Street?"
Chen Yuan leaned close to the old man's face, the aura of wildness originating from the depths of his genes making him almost suffocate.
"Sorry."
"I didn't come here to join you."
"I came here to eat you."
Chen Yuan scanned the room, and everyone his gaze swept over lowered their heads in terror.
That was the gaze of a predator.
That was a barbaric force capable of tearing apart all order.
Chen Yuan walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the New York night view below, which was as prosperous as a dreamscape.
He picked up another bottle of wine.
This time, he raised his glass to the entire city.
"For a long time, you have all been accustomed to dividing the cake."
"You take thirty percent, he takes twenty percent, and the rest is fed to the masses below."
Chen Yuan turned his head.
The corner of his mouth curled into an arc of extreme cruelty.
"But from today on, the rules of New York have changed."
The whole room was deathly silent.
No one dared to speak.
No one even dared to breathe loudly.
Chen Yuan splashed the remaining wine in his glass onto the carpet at his feet.
"From now on, the money in New York."
Chen Yuan paused, his tone steady and without a ripple, yet it sounded like a thunderclap:
"I take seventy percent."
"Who approves?"
"Who opposes?"