Hong Kong variety show: The mastermind behind the scenes is emerging.

October 10th, late autumn.

Central, Hong Kong Island.

This autumn seemed colder than usual. The sea breeze from Victoria Harbour, carrying a chill, pierced through the concrete jungle, sending shivers down one's spine.

For all the employees at Standard Chartered Bank’s Hong Kong Island branch, this October felt like the end of the world.

The office area was deathly still. The bustling scene of ringing phones was gone, replaced by a suffocating silence and oppressive whispers. A sense of despair permeated the air, like the sinking Titanic, where everyone awaited their final judgment.

"Have you heard? In London... the CEO really is dead."

In the break room, two young female employees, pale-faced and holding hot coffee, whispered to each other, "The newspapers say it was suicide, but how could it be such a coincidence? Just the second week after the scandal broke..."

"Shh! Don't say anything!" Another older employee glanced around in alarm. "The company is in complete chaos. I heard that the London headquarters has been declining for a week straight. We here... I'm afraid we're going to be finished too."

"What about our wages? And severance pay...?"

"Severance pay? Don't even dream about it." The older employee gave a bitter smile. "Do you know how much we owe that 'Golden Harvest International'? One billion! One billion Hong Kong dollars! Selling this building wouldn't even cover it!"

Despair spread like a plague.

The Hang Seng Index has now fallen below the 600-point mark, and the entire financial market in Hong Kong is in dire straits.

In this environment, companies are laying off employees to protect themselves. If Standard Chartered Bank were to collapse, these financial professionals who are burdened with mortgages and accustomed to high salaries would instantly fall to rock bottom.

Just when everyone was living in constant fear.

It was exactly 10:00 AM.

The main entrance of the Standard Chartered Bank building.

Three black Mercedes-Benz S-Class armored sedans, lined up in a straight line, like three black steel beasts, silently glided to the steps of the building.

The car's jet-black paint reflected a chilling light under the gloomy sky.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The car doors opened and closed almost simultaneously. The synchronized, muffled thuds sounded like three death knells tolling in Standard Chartered Bank's heart.

A group of men and women dressed in black suits came down.

There were eleven people in total.

Five men and six women, each one of them looked like a model who had just stepped out of a fashion magazine cover, but also like a judge who had just come out of a courtroom.

The men wore impeccably tailored Jiahe custom suits, with expensive Montblanc gold pens clipped to their breast pockets; their hair was meticulously combed, and their shoes were polished to a gleaming shine. The women wore dark business suits, seven-centimeter red-soled high heels, and carried heavy briefcases, their eyes cold yet confident.

This is the acquisition and liquidation team of Jiahe International.

The team includes two accountants, three senior auditors, four top lawyers specializing in business law, and two financial negotiation experts who previously worked on Wall Street.

And walking at the front was a man in his thirties.

He wore a dark gray cashmere coat over a black three-piece suit. His face wore a signature, gentle smile that didn't reach his eyes, and his gaze was as sharp as a scalpel.

Cheng Yiyan.

Lu Chen, General Manager of Jiahe Group, is the sharpest fang.

To his left and behind was Kevin, the chief lawyer known for his sharp tongue; to his right and behind was the chief financial officer holding a thick stack of documents.

The group remained silent and did not exchange words.

They simply strode towards the revolving doors of Standard Chartered Bank.

"Da, da, da..."

The click-clack of leather shoes and high heels on the marble floor produced a crisp, rhythmic sound. The sound echoed through the empty lobby, each click feeling like a jolt to the nerves of the Standard Chartered employees.

The receptionist tried to stop them, but faced with Cheng Yiyan's powerful aura, she opened her mouth but couldn't utter a single word, and could only watch helplessly as the group marched in.

Elevator entrance.

A white man in his thirties, sweating profusely, had been waiting for some time. He was Tony, the special assistant to William, the general manager of Standard Chartered Bank's Hong Kong Island branch.

As Cheng Yiyan and his group approached, Tony straightened his slightly crooked tie and forced a smile that looked more like a grimace as he went to greet them.

"Mr. Cheng... Hello, Mr. Cheng," Tony bowed slightly, adopting a very humble posture. "Mr. William is waiting for you in his office on the top floor. He... he's not feeling well, so he asked me to come down and greet you all."

Cheng Yiyan stopped and glanced at him indifferently.

According to business etiquette, for a meeting of this caliber, especially one involving the settlement of a HK$1 billion debt, William himself should personally come downstairs to greet the person.

Are they only sending an assistant now?

Is this a final act of defiance? Or a futile and humiliating defeat?

"Not feeling well?" Cheng Yiyan chuckled and reached out to straighten Tony's tie. "It's alright. After he signs the papers, he'll have plenty of time to go to the hospital or the infirmary at Stanley Prison to recuperate."

After saying that, he didn't even glance at Tony and walked straight into the general manager's private elevator.

The ten team members behind him filed in, squeezing Tony into the far corner.

"bite--"

The elevator doors slowly closed, shutting out the terrified and curious gazes from the lobby.

Only then did the air pressure in the lobby seem to return to normal, and the employees gasped for breath like drowning people surfacing.

"Oh my god... was that the one who was leading the group just now...?" The receptionist patted her chest, her face pale.

"You mean... 'Jackal' Cheng Yiyan?" The security guard next to him swallowed hard.

"That's him! I've seen him on the cover of a financial magazine! My god, he has such a strong presence. Just now, when he glanced at me, I felt my legs go weak."

"I've heard about it too... He has a nickname in the financial world: 'God of Wealth,' but more people call him 'The Jackal.' It's said that during this stock market crash, everyone else lost so much they jumped off buildings, but he led Golden Harvest to make a whopping 3 billion! He's ruthless and merciless!"

"Oh no... the jackals have come knocking, they want to eat us."

"Our bank... is truly doomed this time."

……

Top floor, General Manager's office.

Behind the large mahogany desk, William slumped in a leather chair.

In just three months, this once spirited Japanese man seemed to have aged twenty years. His eyes were sunken, his stubble was messy, and his expensive suit hung wrinkled on his body, looking several sizes too big.

The ashtray on the table was overflowing with cigarette butts, and the air was filled with a pungent smell of smoke and alcohol.

He lost.

We lost completely.

It wasn't just that foolish betting agreement. What drove him even more desperate was the news from London—Chairman John Stuart was dead, the black box had been stolen, and Standard Chartered's reputation was ruined. Now, no one could save him.

The Hong Kong Island branch has essentially become a fish on a chopping board.

"Bang!"

The office door was pushed open.

Cheng Yiyan walked into this room that once symbolized power, exuding a suffocating sense of oppression.

Without any ceremony, he walked straight to the chair opposite William, sat down, and crossed his legs. His legal team quickly dispersed behind him; some opened briefcases, some took out recording equipment, and some began spreading out documents.

Everything seemed so professional, so cold.

"Mr. William."

Cheng Yiyan took out an exquisite cigar box from his pocket, cut open a Cuban cigar, and slowly lit it. "The scenery here is beautiful. It's a pity you probably won't be able to see it again."

William raised his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Cheng Yiyan.

Anger? Resentment? Fear?

In the end, all the emotions turned into a powerless sigh.

"Procedure……"

William's voice was hoarse, like that of a rusty machine. "You won."

"No."

Cheng Yiyan exhaled a smoke ring, looking at the defeated general through the bluish smoke, "It's not that I won, it's that times have changed."

"William, your biggest mistake wasn't signing that agreement. It was that you still arrogantly believed that the Japanese flag could be planted on this land forever."

Cheng Yiyan pointed out the window, "Wake up, this is Hong Kong Island, not London."

"Alright, that's enough of our reminiscing."

Cheng Yiyan waved his hand.

Kevin, the lawyer behind him, immediately stepped forward and slammed a thick, fifty-page document in front of William.

"Mr. William, according to the Hang Seng Index Put Option Betting Agreement that you signed with us on behalf of Standard Chartered Bank in June 1982."

Kevin's voice was as cold as iron. "As of today, the Hang Seng Index has fallen below 600 points. Based on the leverage ratio, you need to pay Golden Harvest International a total of HK$1.034 billion in principal and returns."

"Excuse me, is it by check or bank transfer?"

William looked at the astronomical figure and gave a bitter laugh.

"A billion? You might as well kill me," William said, spreading his hands. "You know the situation. Head office is struggling to survive, and the branches' working capital has long been depleted by a run on them. We have no money."

"No money?"

Cheng Yiyan seemed to have anticipated this answer. He wasn't angry; instead, his smile became even brighter.

"Not having money is easy to solve."

Cheng Yiyan leaned forward, like a wolf eyeing its prey, "Since you don't have money, then use something to pay for it."

"I want this building."

Cheng Yiyan pointed to the ground, "The Standard Chartered Bank Building, based on the current market value, is worth about 700 million."

"I want all the high-quality loan claims under your name. Especially those secured by land and property. Also, the plots of land you hold on Hong Kong Island, and those special financial licenses..."

With each item Cheng Yiyan mentioned, William's face grew paler.

This is like tearing apart bones and sucking out marrow!

If all of these were given to Golden Harvest, Standard Chartered Bank would be nothing but an empty shell in Hong Kong!

"Impossible," William said, his fingers trembling. "These are the core assets of the head office. I'm just a branch manager; I have no authority to dispose of them, and the Hong Kong Monetary Authority wouldn't agree to it!"

"Power?" Cheng Yiyan raised an eyebrow, as if he had heard a funny joke. He didn't refute it, but instead waved to lawyer Kevin behind him.

Kevin took a document with a bright red wax seal from his briefcase and gently placed it in front of William.

“Mr. William, I think you may be a little behind on some information,” Cheng Yiyan pointed to the document. “This is a special authorization letter from the board of directors of Standard Chartered Group in London. Just yesterday afternoon, the board passed an emergency resolution—in view of the huge losses and debt crisis in the Asian business, it agreed to restructure and sell Standard Chartered Bank (Hong Kong Island Branch).

"And the buyer was Golden Harvest International."

"What?!"

William's eyes widened, and his hands trembled as he opened the document. The signatures and seals on it were all genuine.

"This...how is this possible? How could the board of directors agree to sell to you?!"

William was completely dumbfounded. How could Standard Chartered Bank sell its most important foothold in the Far East to its creditors? This didn't make sense!

The reason is actually quite simple: someone spoke up for Jiahe.

While Standard Chartered was tarnished by scandals and shareholders were busy trying to salvage the share price, Lu Chen had already ordered the High Table Group to go on a buying spree on the London secondary market, becoming Standard Chartered's second-largest shareholder.

With the High Table Group's "goodwill" in brokering the deal, and Golden Harvest International offering a proposal the board couldn't refuse—a one billion debt offset plus two hundred million in cash to buy out all assets and licenses of the Hong Kong Island branch—this was the best solution for the London headquarters, which desperately needed cash to survive and get rid of bad debts.

"William, you're a smart man. I hope you'll cooperate with this acquisition."

Cheng Yiyan's voice suddenly became low and dangerous, like a cold wind blowing from hell.

He walked to the desk, placed his hands on the surface, and stared down into William's eyes.

"Think about your family, think about your daughter who goes to a prestigious school in London."

Cheng Yiyan took out a photograph from his pocket; it was a picture of William in a secret safe deposit box at a bank in Zurich, Switzerland.

"Also, think about that secret account you have in Switzerland. The three million US dollars in there, you must have accumulated it over the years through illegal lending and kickbacks, right? That's your retirement money."

William's pupils contracted sharply, and cold sweat instantly soaked through his shirt.

"How...how did you know...?"

"We know everything," Cheng Yiyan patted his shoulder, her tone softening and carrying a hint of temptation. "It's come to this, and you can't stop anything. If you cooperate actively, our boss said we can spare your life. Once the acquisition is over, we'll let you take the money from that secret account to Australia or Canada and live comfortably for the rest of your life."

"But if you refuse..."

Cheng Yiyan straightened up, adjusted his tie, and pointed to the office door.

"The Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) investigation team is having coffee downstairs next door. All the evidence regarding your assistance to several shell companies in obtaining loans, falsifying accounts, and accepting huge bribes over the past three years has been prepared."

"They'll get all this evidence with just one phone call," Cheng Yiyan glanced at his watch. "By then, not only will this building be lost, but you won't even be able to save your life. A single cell in Stanley Prison will be enough for you to spend the next century."

"On one hand, you can take the money and go sunbathe in Australia; on the other hand, you can end up picking up soap in prison... Mr. William, is this a difficult choice?"

William was startled.

Looking into Cheng Yiyan's emotionless eyes, he finally understood.

This is not a negotiation, this is an execution.

"I understand... I will actively cooperate with all your company's proposals." William signed his name dejectedly, his spine seemingly removed, and slumped into the chair.

Cheng Yiyan picked up the document, blew on the ink to dry it, and nodded in satisfaction.

"A wise choice, Mr. William!" He stood up, buttoned his suit jacket, and waved to his team behind him.

"Notify the administration department to send someone to take over the building."

"in addition……"

Cheng Yiyan walked to the door, stopped, and looked back at William, who looked as if he had lost his parents.

"Mr. William, remember to take down that 'Standard Chartered Bank' sign on the roof."

"Starting today."

"The surname here is Lu."