50s: Starting with a storage ring

Chapter 621 We Won, Clubhouse Models
This is not what they planned.

They had originally planned that Smith and Sun Zhiwei would play the good cop and the bad cop, respectively.

First, use the art of language to subdue them, then use the power of money to lure them, and finally, take back their shares as peacefully as possible.

But now Sun Zhiwei has suddenly overturned his original plan and is prepared to gamble with these people's lives, which has left him in a bind.

It wasn't that Sun Zhiwei wanted to change his mind; it was just that these people infuriated him. They had turned a perfectly good Pinkerton Detective Agency into the Pinkerton Gang.

So he simply used the most direct and brutal method to vent his anger.

They treat the company like a gang, so let them experience real gangster tactics.

The revolver roulette, commonly used by gangs to negotiate deals, is the fairest form of gambling; whoever backs down loses, and everything depends on luck.

The other party will either back down or make a bet; either way, Sun Zhiwei will win.

Of course, they relied on luck, while Sun Zhiwei relied on space.

However, judging from their appearance, few of them seem to have any backbone; they're more likely to back down.

He wasn't afraid to send all these people away at once, but the key was to do it legally and legitimately. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to easily acquire the shares from these people.

But Attorney Smith had no idea what gave Sun Zhiwei his confidence; he was frantically giving Sun Zhiwei meaningful glances.

After seeing this, Sun Zhiwei gently pressed his palm, indicating that he should not worry.

Seeing this, Smith had no choice but to temporarily back down and wait for an opportunity to persuade him.

While the United States doesn't have idioms like "a wise man doesn't stand under a dangerous wall" or "jade doesn't touch rubble," it does have similar proverbs.

Smith couldn't understand why Sun Zhiwei, a billionaire, would resort to such desperate measures to solve a problem.

They already have 51% of Pinkerton's shares, putting them in an invincible position, so there's no need to rush to get the rest.

He was a veteran lawyer, so he knew exactly what methods lawyers used. Given enough time, he could take down these people without bloodshed.

However, when he saw Sun Zhiwei's confident demeanor, he guessed that Sun Zhiwei must have something to rely on, which was why he had temporarily calmed down.

Sun Zhiwei's move has cornered the minority shareholders on the other side.

Most of these people are spoiled brats who rely on the legacy of their ancestors and families. They can get by in the streets and cause minor trouble.

If they were really asked to fight it out themselves, they would all be very hesitant.

But now that the other side has made its move, and it's a ruthless move that they can't withstand, they're stuck in a situation where they can neither advance nor retreat.

They couldn't help but turn their gaze back to Rex Acosta, the backbone of their group, and now was the time for him to make the decision.

Rex is no capable man either. His rise to power was the result of compromise among many. As for his management skills, just look at the development of Pinkerton over the years—it's a complete mess.

In terms of prestige, among the sixteen shareholders, there were quite a few who secretly resented him.

He has neither ability nor prestige, yet he's asked to make a decision at such a critical moment. What can he do? He's scared too.

He didn't know if Sun Zhiwei would really dare to gamble on Russian roulette, but this was a game where you risk your life, and he didn't want to court death.

But now he's been cornered. If he doesn't dare to gamble, he can forget about leading this group of people anymore, and he'll definitely have to give up his position as chairman of the company.

He knew his own worth perfectly well. If he wasn't the chairman of Pinkerton Detective Agency, he was nothing. What good would a 6% stake inherited from his ancestors do? Just coast along and wait to die?
To gamble or not to gamble, that is the question.

Just as he was hesitating, Sun Zhiwei seemed to notice his hesitation and immediately delivered the finishing blow.

“Mr. Rex, you are their leader. Are you going to go first yourself, or send someone to gamble with me?”

Upon hearing this, Rex immediately looked at the others, but everyone avoided his gaze and looked elsewhere, which made him feel a sense of desolation.

Sun Zhiwei's question wasn't a multiple-choice question; it was a fill-in-the-blank question. He simply didn't have a choice. He might want to send someone else first, but someone had to be willing to take the job.

On the other side, Sun Zhiwei's temptation continued: "As long as you beat me, my 51% stake will be yours, and you will be the real head of Pinkerton from now on."

"57% of the shares, wow, from now on no one will be able to question your decision, and no one will be able to shake your position."

Sun Zhiwei's words, like the whispers of a devil, lingered in Rex's ears, tempting him time and time again.

Rex clenched his fists tightly, his eyes bloodshot as he stared intently at Sun Zhiwei. After a long while, he slammed his hand on the table and shouted through gritted teeth, "I'm betting!"

"Bingo!" Sun Zhiwei leaned back happily, then immediately began instructing his men to make preparations.

“Mr. Smith, please prepare a betting agreement and a disclaimer for us immediately.”

“Mr. Quasimodo, go and invite the hotel manager over to be a witness, and arrange for someone to record the video.”

"Oh, by the way, have the waiter at the door bring over two bottles of whiskey. I think Mr. Rex needs a drink right now."

Smith and Quasimodo knew they couldn't say much at this point, so they got up and acted on Sun Zhiwei's instructions.

Soon, two bottles of chilled whiskey were brought over.

Sun Zhiwei took one bottle for himself and had the waiter take the other bottle to Rex across the table.

While the lawyer was busy, Sun Zhiwei poured himself a glass and began to leisurely drink and wait, while giving Rex across the table a mocking look.

Rex was now filled with rage. He hated Sun Zhiwei, and even more so the other minority shareholders who had held him back.

In less than a few minutes, he began to regret it.

But he had already agreed to the bet, and now if he's asked to give it up, where will he put his face? How can he still be a leader? Will he even be able to work in Chicago anymore?

Rex impatiently loosened the crisp floral tie on his shirt, then abruptly picked up the half-glass of chilled whiskey on the table and gulped it down.

The cool liquor went down his throat and into his stomach, bringing a slight and comfortable dizziness that relaxed him considerably.

Since things have come to this, let fate decide. If you win, you'll get young models at the club; if you lose, you can pretend you never came.

That damn James, that damn buddy of mine, that damn world—wouldn't it be better if things were like they were a few years ago? Why did disaster have to strike out of nowhere?

Rex was seething with resentment as he gulped down the whiskey in his glass.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the conference room door, and then the hotel's general manager, dressed in a sharp tuxedo, walked in.

"Gentlemen, the hotel's board of directors has heard that you two are dueling here and is willing to personally judge you fairly."

(End of this chapter)