The Will family tried every possible way to contact Jason.
Calls.Messages.Intermediaries.Mutual acquaintances.
All of them failed.
Jason blocked them cleanly and completely.
No matter how hard they searched, they couldn't even locate him—let alone meet him. There family's so-called deep-rooted foundation collapsed overnight, as if it had never existed.
In front of absolute power, foundations meant nothing.In front of overwhelming influence, connections were as fragile as clay figures in a flood.
By now, everyone in the city's upper circles knew one thing very clearly:
There family had offended Jason Carter.
Who would dare reveal Jason's whereabouts to them?
Even longtime allies avoided there family like the plague.
Still, James and Charles refused to give up. They continued expressing apologies and goodwill through every indirect channel they could think of, hoping Jason might eventually soften and agree to talk.
But there was no response.
Evan, however, was growing increasingly impatient—and resentful.
The other party was younger than him.Yet the entire family had to lower their heads and beg.
That thought gnawed at him.
If Jason can do it, Evan told himself, why can't I?
If he could personally turn things around, not only would the family crisis be resolved, but his past mistakes would be erased. He could stand tall again—perhaps even take control of the family sooner than expected.
Some people were like that.
They possessed an almost magical confidence without ever proving themselves.
Like poor students who believed their grades were bad only because they hadn't "really tried"—never realizing that not trying was their last excuse. Once they actually put in effort, reality would expose how little talent they truly had.
Evan had never truly tried.
And so, he believed.
He immediately summoned a private group of so-called business think tank experts, preparing to make a secret but dramatic counterattack.
These people were indeed capable professionals in the business world. But after hearing Evan's requirements, they exchanged uneasy glances.
Despite being paid well, several of them were already thinking about backing out.
The room fell silent.
Evan slammed the table impatiently."Speak up! Aren't you all business elites? With so many of you here, you can't even come up with a solution?"
No one answered.
Finally, a tall, thin young man cleared his throat.
"There are solutions," he said cautiously. "For example—a price war."
"It's the simplest and most direct approach. Many companies seize market share this way. If you win, you take the entire market."
"If the other side sells at prices thirty percent lower than market, we match it—or go even lower."
"Whatever subsidy they give, we give the same—or more."
"The same logic applies to brand partners. If they offer lower commissions, we offer even lower."
He paused, then added plainly,
"Whether it's customers or brands, they only care about money."
"Whoever offers more… wins."
Evan's eyes lit up.
To him, this sounded brilliant.
Simple.Aggressive.Decisive.
He didn't notice the subtle looks of concern on the faces around the table.
Nor did he realize one crucial truth:
This was exactly the battlefield Jason Carter had already mastered.
And on that battlefield—
Evan had no idea how outmatched he truly was.
Evan's eyes lit up.
Wasn't this… simple?
Such an obvious method—had his father and grandfather really not thought of it? He coughed lightly, putting on an air of authority.
"Good idea," Evan said. "We'll go with this plan."
The tall, thin man hesitated for a moment before speaking carefully."If we do this, we'll need at least two billion dollars in starting capital."
"Not assets. Pure cash flow."
Evan's expression froze.
"Two billion?" His eyebrows twitched uncontrollably. "Just to start?"
Two billion in liquid cash wasn't a joke. And this wasn't investment—it was subsidy burn, pure cash outflow. Worse, this was only the opening move, which meant second and third rounds would inevitably follow.
"Yes," the man said calmly. "The other side has at least two billion prepared. If you don't have that much, you don't even qualify to enter the price war."
"And once you enter," he added, "they will definitely retaliate. This war has only just begun."
For the first time in his life, Evan felt the weight of money pressing down on him.
Born into one of the city's top families, he had never cared about numbers. He spent lavishly, assuming resources were infinite.
But now—
He realized he was poor.
Evan's face darkened."Is there any other way?"
"Yes," another man spoke up—a slightly overweight, middle-aged consultant. "We can attack from the capital market."
"If they're short-selling Golden Crown, we short-sell NextEdge Retail in reverse. Use offshore funds to buy put options, release reports questioning inflated GMV, acquire their logistics partners to expose 'data brushing,' and coordinate regulatory pressure."
"This forces them to divert capital to defense and weakens their offensive."
Evan's eyes brightened again.
So easy?
Had his father and grandfather really missed such a method?
But this time, he forced himself to ask:"Is it risky?"
The man coughed."Very."
"Based on Mr Jason's visible assets and prior attacks, he controls at least three billion in deployable capital—probably more."
"Short-selling offers limited upside but unlimited downside. If it fails, losses won't stop at what you put in."
"If the other side pours in more money and engineers a short squeeze, losses could be ten times your initial investment."
Evan's eyelids twitched violently.
This wasn't just expensive—it was suicidal.
If they lost three billion… fine.If they lost ten times that?
There family wouldn't just be crippled—they'd be erased.
"Don't bring up such unrealistic garbage again," Evan snapped. "Is there anything practical?"
Silence fell over the room.
Because deep down, everyone knew the truth.
There had never been a truly practical solution.
The two sides weren't even playing the same game.
Against absolute power, strategy meant nothing.
After a long pause, a refined-looking young man spoke carefully.
"Mr Will… if you really want to do something meaningful for the family, there may be one last direction."
"Debt."
"There family's high-leverage model is the real problem. If the debt issue can be resolved, the pressure will ease significantly."
"There are two approaches. First, introduce a white knight—bring in strategic investors who exchange equity for long-term, low-interest capital."
"Second, debt restructuring—negotiate with banks for debt-to-equity swaps."
He paused, then continued honestly.
"But there are major obstacles. Public opinion, capital, and influence are all currently leaning toward Jason."
"Who would dare become a strategic investor now?"
"And the banks have already tightened credit. Convincing them to cooperate will be extremely difficult."
Evan, however, saw hope.
With there family's connections, attracting investors shouldn't be impossible. They were deeply rooted in this city.
And the banks?
Decades of cooperation—how could they possibly abandon there family?
Full of confidence, Evan personally took action.
Reality answered swiftly.
Every so-called "connection" politely declined. Some even made it clear—his father and grandfather were already aware, and they had no intention of explaining things to a child.
As for the bank—
No response.
But through internal channels, a piece of information leaked out.
Jason Carter had deposited ten billion dollars into that bank not long ago.
Ten.
Billion.
Evan's legs went weak. He nearly collapsed.
"How… how much?" he whispered.
The subordinate beside him had already turned pale."… should we just surrender?"
For the first time, Evan had no answer.
And for the first time in his life—
He understood what it meant to face someone who existed in a completely different world.
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