182: Chapter 182 The Vultures of Wall Street

Manhattan, New York. The top-floor conference room of Prometheus Headquarters.

On both sides of the long solid wood conference table, the legal and financial teams of Huihuang Group were typing rapidly. The sound of keyboards echoed in the spacious conference room. Paper documents were piled like mountains, and the printer continuously spat out new reports.

Chen Muyang sat at the head of the conference table.

He wore a well-tailored dark suit with a perfectly straight tie.

Chen Muyang flipped through the cardiovascular patent library evaluation report in his hands. The friction of the paper made a rustling sound.

This was Prometheus's most valuable asset. As long as Pangu Biology secured it, they could completely monopolize the global cardiovascular drug market. For this acquisition, Chen Muyang had led his team through three full nights on Wall Street. From asset liquidation to debt divestiture, he personally oversaw every step.

“President Chen, the final quote from the Prometheus liquidation team has been confirmed,” the CFO said, handing over several pages of reports. “It's ten percent lower than our expected floor price. Once you sign, the cardiovascular patent library will belong to Pangu Biology.”

Chen Muyang took the reports and quickly scanned the data. The profit margin was enormous. He held his fountain pen, ready to sign the final confirmation letter.

Once this core asset was secured, Prometheus would be nothing but an empty shell. Huihuang Group's biopharmaceutical blueprint in North America would be fully realized.

Chen Muyang uncapped his fountain pen.

The conference room door was roughly pushed open.

A loud bang interrupted the busy room. The employees of Huihuang Group stopped their work and looked up at the door.

Several blonde-haired, blue-eyed Caucasian men strode in. The leader was Pete, the Vice President of a local Wall Street investment bank.

Pete, wearing a custom suit, walked up to Chen Muyang with his hands in his pockets and his chin slightly raised. The accompanying bodyguards blocked the doorway.

“Young Master Chen, the acquisition ends here.” Pete pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing his legs with the tips of his leather shoes pointing toward the conference table.

Chen Muyang put down his pen, closed the report, and looked up at him. “Mr. Pete, we have already agreed on a price with the Prometheus liquidation team. The contract can take effect immediately.”

“That was half an hour ago.” Pete pulled a few pages of documents from his inner pocket and tossed them onto the table. The paper slid and stopped by Chen Muyang's hand. “The cardiovascular patent library already has a new owner.”

Chen Muyang picked up the documents. The transfer agreement had already taken effect. It bore the official seal of the Prometheus liquidation team. A Chinese name was signed in the buyer's column.

“Wang Hao?” Chen Muyang read the name out loud.

Pete spread his hands and leaned back against the chair. “A powerful Chinese buyer. He offered an internal price the liquidation team couldn't refuse, paid in full. The money has already arrived.”

The CFO stood up and argued his point, “Mr. Pete, this is against the rules. We have the right of first refusal.”

“The rule of Wall Street is the US dollar.” Pete tapped the table. “Mr. Wang not only offered a high price but also promised to cover part of the severance pay for Prometheus's employees. The liquidation team had no reason to refuse.”

Chen Muyang threw the documents back onto the table. He stood up and looked at Pete. The choice meat he was about to eat had been forcibly snatched away.

He didn't lose his temper. On Wall Street, anger solves nothing. He took out his phone and dialed an international long-distance call.

Imperial Capital International Hospital. VIP Ward.

The humidifier sprayed a fine mist. The temperature in the ward was comfortable.

Chen Fan held a white porcelain bowl, scooped up some chicken soup with a porcelain spoon, blew on it, and brought it to Su Wanqing's lips.

Su Wanqing leaned against the pillow and drank the soup. Her complexion had recovered extremely well. In the crib, the three little ones were sleeping soundly.

The phone vibrated. Chen Fan placed the bowl on the nightstand and answered the call.

“Dad, the cardiovascular patent library was snatched away,” Chen Muyang's voice came through, accompanied by the typical noisy background of Wall Street. “An investment bank brokered the deal; the buyer's name is Wang Hao. The other party offered a high price and cut off our acquisition process with a full payment.”

“Wang Hao,” Chen Fan repeated the name.

A deep blue light screen popped up. A red warning box appeared.

[Warning! Destiny's Child detected: Wang Hao.]

[System Main Quest Update: Luck Plunder War initiated.]

[Target intelligence parsing...]

[Parsing complete. The cardiovascular patent library purchased by the target contains fatal hidden risks. It includes three undisclosed records of international tax fraud and a twenty-billion-dollar hidden penalty clause.]

Chen Fan looked at the red text on the light screen.

He smiled.

This was the first time the system had actively prompted a Destiny's Child since its upgrade. Given the system's usual nature, this Wang Hao must have come to Wall Street with some kind of Golden Finger to stir up trouble. Unfortunately, he had chosen the wrong target to intercept.

Chen Fan instructed into the phone, “Muyang, take your people and withdraw from Prometheus Headquarters. Don't bother arguing with them.”

On the other end of the line, Chen Muyang asked, “Dad, are we just giving up? This patent library is very important for Pangu Biology's global layout.”

“Let him take it. Not only let him take it, but give him a push.” Chen Fan picked up a tissue and wiped the soup stain from Su Wanqing's lip. “Notify the finance department to sell off all the stocks we hold related to Prometheus's cardiovascular business. Don't leave a single cent. Cooperate with his acquisition and help inflate the bubble.”

Chen Muyang didn't ask further and replied, “Understood. I'll arrange the withdrawal immediately.”

The call ended.

Su Wanqing reached out and placed her hand over Chen Fan's. She looked at him.

Chen Fan turned his hand to hold hers, his thumb rubbing against the back of her hand.

“Is the company in trouble?” Su Wanqing asked.

“It's a small matter.” Chen Fan picked up the white porcelain bowl and continued feeding her the soup. “Someone wants to step on a landmine for us; I have to make room for him.”

New York. The Peninsula Manhattan. Top-floor Presidential Suite.

Wang Hao stood by the window with a wine glass, looking down at the bustling traffic of Wall Street.

On the coffee table lay the newly signed patent library transfer contract. Beside it were several investigation reports on Huihuang Group.

He took a sip of red wine. Through this transaction, he could not only make a huge profit but also take the opportunity to break into the core capital circles of North America. The 'God-level Scavenging System' in his mind indicated that the future valuation of this patent library would increase tenfold.

He took out his phone and browsed through the information on Huihuang Group.

Chen Fan is just a lucky upstart. He started with a few venture capital deals and really thinks he can call the shots on Wall Street?

Wang Hao snorted twice.

“Chen Fan, your good days are over.” Wang Hao swirled his glass, the red wine clinging to the sides.

The offshore accounts under his name were sliding into a bottomless financial black hole. The twenty-billion-dollar penalty was enough to make him lose everything, down to his underwear.

The suite's doorbell rang.

Wang Hao put down his glass and went to open the door.

Outside stood a hotel room service attendant pushing a dining cart. “Mr. Wang, your dinner.”

Wang Hao stepped aside to let the waiter in. The waiter kept his head down as he placed the plates on the table. As the waiter turned, Wang Hao caught a glimpse of a tattoo on the man's cuff. It was the symbol of the Blood Skull, a local Wall Street gang.

The waiter's hand reached toward a hidden compartment at the bottom of the cart.

Wang Hao took half a step back. “Who sent you?”

The waiter looked up, a silenced pistol now in his hand, pointing the barrel at the center of Wang Hao's forehead. “Someone asked me to give you a message: the waters of Wall Street are very deep; you've swallowed something you shouldn't have.”

Wang Hao swallowed hard as the system in his mind continued to blare a piercing alarm. He raised his hands, his eyes darting toward the patent contract on the coffee table. What on earth was going on?

(Please like ~ Please tip ~ Please request updates ~ Finished for today)