Cleaning a Slate is Difficult Work

Contrary to his original plan, Xi Chen didn't manage to bring along the two million RMB he was supposed to obtain from Mu Yun's granddaughter earlier this morning. Instead, the youth departed from the broken warehouse with the drafted contract remaining in his bag, leaving behind the promise of returning a week to finalize the agreement.

"I'll have to clean the slate, draft new workers, and settle some issues here and there – huh?"

Xi Chen glanced at the afternoon skies, and revealed a discompassionate yawn. The youth stretched the sore muscles of his neck and grumbled incessantly to himself, when he abruptly slapped himself on the forehead with a scowl.

"I'm such an idiot!"

He had the heavenly bowl!! What was he prancing around waiting for Mu Yun to deliver the money, when he could easily create the money!?

"Two million RMB isn't going to cause any inflation for a city on the scale of Jiangbei, much less the entire nation. Why, why, why didn't I think of it sooner?"

It would have been difficult to achieve should Long Aotian request for the investment to be completed using the services of a financial middleman agency, but since it was to be in cash, Xi Chen quickly realized his folly. The stacks of 100 RMB notes, suitcase and all; they could easily be created using the heavenly bowl since he was rather familiar with those types of transactions.

Ah, to think that he had to delay his plans by a week…

Xi Chen shrugged his shoulders and boarded the public transportation as he brooded on his mistake, and resolved himself in his heart. The youth occupied his gaze on the passing cars and trucks alongside the road, whilst his thoughts began their maddened descent into depravity.

Once he gained 51% of the shares of Clear Rivers Security Company, he could begin his schemes to topple the Zhang Family. First and foremost, was the revision of the dilapidated security corporation into one that was more capable at its job, more than bossing around frail students in some illegal sweatshop.

Other than Long Aotian, who was to remain as the CEO and figurehead of the corporation, the remainder of the members had to be replaced by true and tested veterans. Xi Chen knew where to dispose of them under the guise of training, and where to source new members, only…

"It's going to be two years early – do they even have anyone outfitted for legitimate combat? At this time, they might only have instructors and hardly any recruits, much less retirees…"

Xi Chen released one elderly sigh after another, prompting the woman seated next to him direct a puzzled and probing gaze. The youth decisively ignored the perplexed expression and hopped off the bus at a random stop, and aimlessly roamed the streets for a brief while. Xi Chen strode along the main streets of Jiangbei as he passed one high-rising building after another, his thoughts locked onto a different landscape.

"Shuffle the dividends from Tianming Corporation to fund the Clear Rivers Security Company once its under my control, then seek out to form connections. I could resuscitate the Zhang Family's dead corporation using half of my strategy, so what will happen if I go the full route?"

Xi Chen recalled the thesis he had submitted during his final year at Jiangbei University, and the surprised expression of the advising professor when he explained the potential applications and prospects of the business model he had theorized. It adhered to all regulations regarding newly formed and expanding corporations, and didn't violate the market, but its cold and ruthless nature almost caused the latter to force Xi Chen into changing the topic of his thesis one week before it was due.

The nature of the theorized model was simple, and it relied heavily on the existence of satellite corporations as the primary source of income. The sole objective was to obtain a large boon of financial assets and influence in the market, with the ultimate goal of pre-emptively squashing any competition prior to entering the targeted market to boost sales and solidarity. The process was simple, and insufferably brutal.

Of course, significant financial resources were required at the initial stages for the model to succeed. However, as Xi Chen had noted at the start that it was a model designed to resuscitate companies from their zombified state, he didn't observe any disruptive elements or problems – his personal situation was a bit different, but the Zhang Family at that time fit the conditions rather perfectly.

Using the resources, several corporations in their budding or flourishing stages would have their principal owner's shares bought out. The founder of that company would then be reinstated as its CEO to serve on the Board of Directors utilizing several backends that were exclusive to corporations yet to emerge from their transitionary phase, yet the CEO themselves would find themselves bereft of any influence. The 'reviving zombie', after establishing a sufficient number of these 'satellite corporations��, would then be able to move to the second stage of the model.

Rapid expansion and over-extension of satellite corporations. Of course, given the high intelligence of investors, more subtle means had to be employed with an added touch on emotion-affecting stratagems, otherwise the theorized model would topple on its rear before it could crawl, much less walk.

Each decision made by the 'zombie' – or perhaps, the 'CEO' of these companies, would lead the satellite corporations to expand at a steady yet increasing pace. They would skyrocket in market value and influence over the targeted products, and eventually overreach themselves in influence and poke at the sensitive behinds of the mammoths and behemoths of the market.

Each strategic move employed by the satellite companies would result in massive growth and returns, which were then funneled towards the 'zombie'. The funds were to remain dormant as the 'satellites' were forced step-by-step into inevitable bankruptcy and financial ruin. The instant the satellites had expanded to their limits and couldn't expand further without jeopardizing their business model or obtaining the financial support – ahem, acquisition offer – from a major behemoth, the 'zombie' sold all of its shares – throwing the corporation into financial ruin, and milking the last drops of its worth.

Then, with the accumulated funds of dozens of sacrificed 'satellites', the 'zombie' could complete its resuscitation and return into the targeted market. The presence of so many 'pariahs' would serve as a major barrier preventing any new corporations from establishing ground, providing a heavenly platform for the 'zombie' to expand, solidify, and dominate over the market without the presence of an external investor throwing wrenches into the cogs. Then, the final stage of the model could then be implemented –

"Takeover of a behemoth of the market by attacking its fragile fiduciaries, hm?" Xi Chen rubbed his chin, a glare of satisfaction emanating from his pupils.

"I couldn't achieve that with the Zhang Family as I lost everything in the middle of the second phase, but now, heh… huh – where did my wallet go!?"

The youth patted the right pocket of his jeans, only to feel a rather breezy compartment without a wallet, or the set of keys leading to his home. Xi Chen balked as he realized his current situation, and anger bubbled in his heart.

"A man can't even think to himself on the streets anymore - !"

A sizeable stone was hurled into the wooden bowl with great strength, displacing all of the occupants when it made its majestic landing. With the emboldened character of 'Saint' dazzling the corner of his mind, Xi Chen blinked his eyes and curled his lips into a small sneer.

He had to admit, the wooden bowl served as an absolute cheat.

The world before his gaze didn't change much, but besides his feet lay a set of footprints highlighted in a brilliant neon glare. The clumsy trail of light extended towards the dense pocket of people streaming across the street on either side, weaving through the paths of several students and an elderly man snoring under the shelter for a public transit stop. Xi Chen took one surveying gaze around the open area, and decided to follow the neon trail after holstering his bag.

It was an odd hunt.

There wasn't much of the suspense of earnestly searching for the target whilst under dire conditions, but a lax stroll through the evening garden with an uplifted expectation. The footprints continued to advance their march through the main streets of Jiangbei, suggesting that the thief was continually on the move. All Xi Chen had to do was to keep his vision locked onto the neon flare carving a glorious path on the concrete and asphalt streets and maintain an even pace, and he was bound to find him – or whoever it was.

And as expected, just after half an hour of aimless walking, Xi Chen found the source of the footprints.

It was a young man dressed in a Western-themed trench coat made of thick nylon, with a dark leather cap extending over the tip of his ears to completely conceal his image. A leather briefcase, and with each step, the dull thud of hardened leather and hoof shoe heel slapped against the recently paved concrete. As if his disorienting and highly conspicuous profile wasn't enough, Xi Chen subtly glanced towards the man's exquisitely adorned shoes – and saw a new set of neon footprints emerge after his foot stepped off the ground.

The youth made an attempt to leap onto the bizarrely-dressed man, but abruptly paused at the echo of a distant, frustrated female yell. Xi Chen craned his neck to peer behind his back, and witnessed a delectably-figured policewoman barrel into a maddened rush towards the young man dressed in the nylon trench coat, a PVC telescoping baton clenched in her left hand, and a taser with yellow-and-orange stripes adorning the sides of its barrel.

"Song Yungang, stop this instant and cease resisting arrest!," the policewoman released another hurried shout.

"If you do not cease your running, then I will be forced to shoot!"

The discouraging shout caused nothing more than inject a vial of highly-concentrated chicken blood into the young man's veins, and the flaps of his trench coat fanned out as its wearer broke into a profound sprint. The bystanders nearby shrieked as their arms and legs were slapped raw by the flailing nylon sleeves, and the policewoman heaved a despondent sigh.

She slowed her rush into a careful and controlled sprint. Then, extending her thumb and bending it into a rudimentary form of a claw, she popped off the safety cap of the taser and thumbed the safety to its live-fire configuration. With a slight exhale of breath, the policewoman closed one eye and raised the barrel slightly above the rapidly fleeing figure.

There wasn't any expressively exaggerated discharge of smoke or sound when she fired, but a young man's agonized cries and the thump of a man toppling onto the ground confirmed a direct hit across a forty-meter distance.