Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 243 The Prelude to Guns and Fire
Rewind ten minutes, when Mr. Potter and Connor had just turned the corner in the hallway and were heading back to Mr. Potter's office.

The side door of the banquet hall was pushed open, and a small group of people dressed in matching dark suits and carrying instrument cases filed in, their movements swift and quiet, a stark contrast to the luxurious and languid atmosphere around them.

They didn't look at any attendants or security personnel, but instead, guided by Larry's attendants, they walked straight to the temporarily cleared stage area with their eyes lowered.

The security chief of the Waldorf Hotel approached to inquire, but unexpectedly discovered that John Jacob Astor IV had also entered the Waldorf Hotel with a small band.

The security supervisor was taken aback. As a senior manager of the Astor family, he naturally knew the other party's importance. He quickly bowed and asked, "Mr. John, we were unaware of your arrival. Please forgive our rudeness in not going out to greet you."

In the circles of top-tier wealthy families, to distinguish different members of the same family, senior servants or confidants who have served for many years sometimes address the younger heir as "Mr." followed by their name. This shows respect and carries a hint of intimacy, but it would never be used for family elders.

King Astor IV smiled and waved casually, saying with a laugh, "My private band, how about it? Better than my brother's, right? We'll do a little rehearsal here to prepare for tonight's performance."

The security supervisor chuckled twice, watching the small band enter the banquet hall's dance floor one after another and begin setting up the performance area.

King Astor IV casually glanced around, and when he saw Larry, he gave him a subtle nod.

Larry then led Dunbar straight to Mr. Potter's office.

King Astor IV sat down in the guest section, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the table, his gaze following the every movement of the small symphony orchestra he had privately funded—a total of about twenty-five people.

"To add to the festivities, the foundation's founding ceremony can't be without a little impromptu performance," he explained in a low voice to the slightly surprised security supervisor beside him, a reserved smile playing on his lips, while his sharp, eagle-like eyes silently scanned everyone he could see.

The band entered the dance floor, meticulously coordinating their formation as they began preparing to perform.

Several attendants moved the conductor's platform over, and an elderly man with gray hair and a thin figure stood in his band conductor's position. He did not speak, but gave instructions with extremely fast gestures and eyes.

Two assistants swiftly pulled back a roll of white string marked with positions, creating simple markings on the floor. The musicians then lowered their music stands and chairs with precise movements, without a single unnecessary movement or clatter.

The cellists and double bass players carefully laid down and opened their instrument cases, took out their instruments and tuned them; the slight "humming" sound was drowned out by the noise of the banquet hall.

The timpani player and his assistant pushed the three drums into place, the drummer's fingers quickly brushing across the drumhead, feeling the tension, adjusting the screws, and producing an extremely subtle "click" sound.

The sheet music was quickly distributed to each music stand, the rustling sound of the pages turning filling the air.

The lead violinist rose and played a clear A. Instantly, all the string instruments rose and fell in a soft, undulating chord, like the low hum of a swarm of bees, before quickly subsiding.

The conductor's gaze swept over each row of musicians, quickly exchanging glances with the principal violinist, flautist, and trumpeter, receiving a barely perceptible nod in response.

The entire orchestra was like a sophisticated machine, completing the transition from disassembled parts to standby mode within ten minutes.

The commander raised his hand, and the blinding sunlight streaming through the banquet hall's windows seemed to focus on his fingertips. He glanced at King Astor IV one last time. Astor barely moved, giving only a very slight, almost imperceptible nod.

At the edge of the crowd, a well-dressed and impeccably behaved senior executive was busy directing his subordinates to set the tableware, seemingly casually and curiously watching the band begin.

The band's professionalism caught his attention: so efficient, so quiet. His gaze swept over Astor IV, noticing the latter's seemingly relaxed yet focused expression.

"interesting……"

The senior executive looked slightly puzzled as he carefully examined the band again, trying to find anything out of place.

The conductor turned to King Astor IV and asked, "Mr. Astor, what pieces would you like to hear during the trial performance?"

King Astor IV paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "What a dull morning! Let's add some excitement. I'd like to hear the overture to William Tell!"

The old conductor nodded, then turned to his bandmates and said, "The William Tell Overture!"

The band members then began flipping through sheet music, and the dance floor erupted in a joyful rustling of papers.

The senior executive who was secretly observing was a little suspicious. Deep down, he felt that the music did not fit the background of the foundation's founding banquet. Then, he focused his gaze on Astor IV's face again.

King Astor IV smiled, as if he were proud that his band could play at his cousin's hotel.

However, just as the senior management's attention was drawn to the band's efficiency, the selection of music, and Astor's subtle reactions—

He was completely unaware that not far behind him, two men in waiter uniforms were pushing a cart loaded with champagne towers and stopped very naturally at the side door leading to the back passage, seemingly tidying up the glasses, but actually silently blocking the passage.

Further away, another handsome young man was having a lively conversation with a manager of the Waldorf Hotel, cleverly using the manager's body as cover while his eyes quickly scanned the senior management for final target confirmation.

The senior executive had excellent observation skills, but all his attention was drawn to the "obvious" anomaly on stage. He had completely fallen into Larry's attention trap.

He noticed the signals behind the music, but missed the truly deadly "notes" that had already begun to move, hidden beneath the music's cover.

With a wave of the baton, the small orchestra, like a wind-up music box, began to play quietly.

The tranquil "Dawn" movement of the overture to William Tell gently begins.

But the real storm had already begun silently amidst the elegant music.

Meanwhile, in Mr. Porter's office, Larry reached out and touched the burly man named Connor; the artery in his neck had completely stopped beating.

Larry stood up, glanced at George Potter, who was utterly astonished and looked pale, then at Dunbar, who had already walked back through the window, and nodded, saying, "We'll begin once the music starts!"

The two nodded in agreement.

Just then, a stirring piece of music suddenly began to play, its vibrant melody seeping in through the door panels and the main gate.

"Holy crap, it's the classic background music from 'Tom and Jerry'... Well, this melody is indeed quite rousing, and it's loud enough to cover up the sound of our movements."

Larry almost laughed. He turned to Dunbar and said, "Let's get started!"
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The orchestra played the opening of the William Tell Overture: a long, stirring, and inspiring violin solo melody depicting the earth awakened and all things brimming with life under the rising sun. The volume was extremely bright, as if piercing through the clouds.

Deep in the hotel's basement, in the outer passageway of the boiler room, where steam filled the air.

Mr. K stood against the wall. Two young Italian men followed nervously beside him, their fingers unconsciously reaching for the pistols at their waists.

Mr. K smiled at them and softly reassured them, "Don't worry, with professionals leading the way, we're just going through the motions..."

Before the two could even nod, Charles Baker and his two men strode over, openly holding the shotgun with its barrel sawed off.

“Officer, this way please…” Mr. K met Baker with Dunbar last night, and now, seeing him arrive, a slick smile appeared on his face.

Charles Baker nodded. "Do you have any cigars?" Mr. K was taken aback, but just then, faint music came from above. Mr. K smiled slightly at Charles Baker and said in a low voice, "I'll treat you when you're done!"

Baker nodded and gestured to his two men, who prepared long-handled shotguns loaded with large lead bullets. If they couldn't get the door open, they would use the shotguns to blast open the thin iron lock on the boiler room door.

Their breaths mingled with the deep sound of the cello, and power gathered in the silence.

Baker walked to the boiler room door and shouted, though mumbled, "...Let us take over for you..."

Silence reigned inside. It was unclear whether the people inside had already noticed the problem, or if the increasingly loud music had masked their senses...

Baker held a gun in one hand and raised the other in the air to signal his men to wait...

A dozen seconds later, Baker knocked on the boiler room door again...

If this doesn't work, we'll need to launch a full-scale attack.

Mr. K also drew his automatic pistol and waited quietly.

After waiting for a short while, just as Baker was about to have his men pound on the iron gate, the lock clicked and the gate opened.

The iron gate was pulled open a narrow crack, and just as the person inside was trying to see who was knocking...

"Boom!"

Charles Baker fired his shotgun, which was pressed against the man's chest. The muzzle flash and the deafening roar instantly engulfed the man's body. The man was thrown backward by the tremendous impact, and the blood splattered from his body bloomed into a grotesque flower.

Just as the gunshot rang out, the music swelled up, and Baker, disregarding everything, pushed his way through the people at the door and rushed into the boiler room…

"Oh!"

The roar of shotguns echoed from the boiler room once again.

His two men also rushed in without fear.

The continuous blasting of shotgun shells echoed from inside the boiler room, while flashes of gunfire occasionally pierced the air near the doorway…

Mr. K curled his lip, thinking to himself that it was great that the police could do dangerous work; as long as the bomb was safe, he would consider his mission accomplished…

Just then, footsteps sounded in the corridor, and a man walked in to the rousing music playing around him. But when he saw Mr. K at the boiler room door, he stopped in his tracks.

Mr. K met his surprised gaze...

In just a moment, they both understood why the other had come here.

The man crouched slightly and began to draw a pistol from his waist...

"Bang! Bang!" Mr. K raised his hand, and two bullets flew out of the automatic pistol in quick succession.

The man was startled; he had the gun in his hand but no time to fire. Instead, he turned and ran.

Mr. K crouched low and chased after him, with the two Italian lads following him as they rushed out...
.
The music's mood shifts abruptly! The strings play rapid arpeggios, the woodwinds emit a sharp whistling sound, the timpani simulate thunder, the volume gradually increases, the rhythm accelerates, and the music becomes full of tension.

Matthew and Astor IV's security chief exchanged a glance, both holding guns and ready to go.

Astor IV's skilled security personnel, armed with axes, were ready to break into the storage rooms in the east wing.

At the very moment when the music's concealment power increased!
"Bang! Crash!" The sounds of banging on the door and cracking wood rang out! But these sounds were drowned out by the band's intense string plucking and the flute's sharp vibrato!

The moment the door was smashed open, the two guards inside turned around in astonishment!

Matthew and the security chief are already in place!
"Bang! Bang!" Two crisp, deafening, and highly penetrating gunshots rang out!

The gunshots were cleverly integrated into the music, punctuated by a powerful timpani strike and the clanging of cymbals. Pistol-wielding officers swiftly stormed in and took control of the situation. Smoke and the smell of gunfire began to fill the air.

"Put down your guns!" the security chief of King Astor IV roared, his and Matthew's pistols already pointed at the unprepared guards.

The guards, caught off guard, were completely bewildered. Some of them raised their hands as they saw the situation was turning against them, but one man's hand reached for a rifle on the table.

"boom!"

Matthew fired a precise shot, sending the rifle on the table tumbling through the air, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere.

"Anyone who moves again will die!" Matthew roared. This time, none of the seven or eight people in the storage room dared to move again, and they all obediently raised their hands.
.
Mr. Dunbar rushed to the ceiling inspection level of the main banquet hall, where there were steel structures and simple wooden plank structures.

According to George Porter's intelligence, there is a gunman with a rifle there, responsible for carrying out assassinations in case of emergency.

There is only one person, but his hiding place is unknown. This person is the biggest variable, and precisely because of this, Dunbar must deal with him personally.

However, the rousing music was constantly creating a noisy atmosphere in the banquet hall. When the music reached its most frenzied and chaotic part, all the instruments were roaring at the highest volume, creating a near-out-of-control, carnival-like sound effect!
Dunbar held a Type 92 pistol in his left hand but a tomahawk in his right. He moved quickly toward the music's rousing beat and soon spotted a man smoking a cigarette on the floor, with a Winchester rifle leaning against him.

"Don't move! Or I'll blow your head off!" Dunbar yelled, rushing through the door, pistol pointed at the man...

The man stared blankly at Dunbar, making no move.

But then Dunbar noticed that there was another person in the corner next to him. That person reacted incredibly quickly and had already reached for the revolver on the ground.

"Whoosh—Pfft!"

A spinning Indian tomahawk precisely cleaved into the gunman's wrist! The revolver flew out of his hand!
Mr. Dunbar stepped forward and kicked the man to the ground. The man fell heavily onto the wooden floor, clutching his wrist and howling in pain. A large cloud of dust fell from the ceiling.

Mr. Dunbar caught up and kicked the injured man hard in the temple, knocking him unconscious.

Throughout this series of lightning-fast movements, the pistol in his left hand was always pointed at the first gunman.

The slow-reacting gunman glanced at his unfortunate companion, then at the fierce Dunbar, and resignedly raised his hands high...

　I just got off the plane (this chapter was typed on the plane). If I have time, I'll continue with another chapter tomorrow morning; if not, it will be tomorrow afternoon. Those of you destined to get rich, go to sleep now and read on tomorrow. Congratulations on your fortune! May you all get your stocks hit the daily limit the day after tomorrow!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)