Chapter 54: How Real Wealth Operates
The morning sun rose over Shu City, casting a sharp, golden light across the glass towers of the financial district and the sprawling, historic campus of Shu City University. For the average student walking through the stone arches of the economics department, it was just another Tuesday. But for those plugged into the city's high-society gossip networks, the air felt thick with an unnatural, mounting pressure.
Vivienne Jameson sat in the passenger seat of her family's modest sedan, her gaze fixed out the window as the campus scenery rolled past. Usually, her expression was a mask of absolute, untouchable indifference—a demeanor that had earned her the title of the university's number one school belle. But today, her dark eyes were clouded with deep unrest, her fingers tightly interlaced in her lap.
Her mind was trapped in the memory of the hosital corridor from the previous afternoon. She couldn't shake the image of Ethan McCain standing outside Room 702. The sheer contrast between the quiet, unassuming boy who sat in the back row of her lectures and the commanding figure who had ordered the hospital directors around was staggering.
"Miss Vivienne, we've arrived," the family driver said softly, interrupting her thoughts as he pulled up to the economics building.
"Thank you, Arthur," Vivienne replied, her voice a quiet, melodic murmur. She stepped out of the vehicle, her long, dark hair catching the morning breeze. She was dressed simply in a white blouse and a dark skirt, yet her inherent grace made her stand out effortlessly against the crowd of arriving students.
As she walked up the stone steps, she noticed a group of her classmates gathered near the entrance, talking excitedly in hushed, hurried whispers. Among them was Charles Lang, the heir to a prominent local logistics firm and a man who had spent the last two semesters unsuccesfully trying to secure Vivienne's attention.
"Did you hear about the Golden Dragon?" Charles was saying, his voice filled with a mix of awe and anxiety. "The entire board of directors was replaced in a single hour. The new owner didn't even show up to the signing; they just transferred the capital through a tier-one offshore account. The whole city is trying to figure out who is behind Black Global Holdings."
"It has to be a conglomerate from the capital," another wealthy student chimed in. "Nobody in Shu City has that kind of liquidity to buy out a five-star landmark overnight."
Vivienne paused slightly, her breath catching in her throat. Black Global Holdings. That was the exact name Ethan had mentioned. It was the entity that had locked down the entire VIP floor of the hospital. A wild, seemingly impossible thought crossed her mind, but she immediately suppressed it. No, it was too absurd. Ethan was brilliant, but to suggest that a fellow college student was the mastermind behind a multi-billion-dollar global leviathan was beyond the realm of reality.
She walked past the group without uttering a word, ignoring Charles as he tried to call out her name. She entered the grand lecture hall, navigating the tiered rows of seating until she reached her usual spot near the front.
A few minutes later, the rear doors of the lecture hall slid open.
Ethan McCain walked in.
He wore a simple, perfectly fitted black crewneck sweater and dark trousers. His posture was no longer slouched to blend into the background. He stood tall, his physical frame possessing an inherent, athletic symmetry that radiated a quiet, dangerous confidence. His clear eyes swept the room, entirely indifferent to the wealth and status represented by the students around him.
He walked down the aisle with a slow, deliberate pace, his gaze briefly crossing Vivienne's. For a fraction of a second, an unreadable understnding passed between them before Ethan continued toward the very back row, taking his seat in the shadows.
At exactly nine o'clock, Professor Vance marched into the hall, his leather briefcase clutched tightly under his arm. Vance was a man who measured human worth strictly by corporate titles and net worth. He took his place behind the podium, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses as he looked out over the students.
"Good morning, class," Vance began, his tone sharp and authoritative. "Today, we will be discussing advanced corporate restructuring and hostile takeovers. It is a timely topic, considering the massive shifts occurring in our own city's commercial sector over the past twenty-four hours. Some of you in this room come from families who understand these mechanics intimately. Others..." Vance's eyes drifted toward the back row, landing squarely on Ethan. "...are merely here to observe how real wealth operates."
A few muffled snickers broke out among the wealthier students in the middle rows. Ethan merely leaned back in his chair, his expression completely calm, a cold, knowing light gleaming in his eyes. He didn't care about Vance's petty words; his mind was already calculating the next phase of his capital injection to cross the 2,000 SP mark.