Chapter 416: What I Want Isn't Money, It's a License to Kill

On the other end of the phone was an aged yet vigorous voice, each word pronounced as precisely as if measured with a ruler, bearing the composure unique to someone long accustomed to the top, smoothing away all edges.

"Mr. Lu, I am David Rockefeller."

There was no superfluous small talk, no assistant transfer; the other party introduced himself directly.

This posture itself was a statement.

In the apartment, David Cohen subconsciously held his breath, feeling as if an invisible hand had clutched his heart, and the very air in the room grew thin.

Lu Qingshan did not return the other's composure; his tone remained flat, as if speaking with an ordinary business partner.

"Mr. Rockefeller, your Chief Executive Officer just tried to kill me and my entire team."

He did not say "Morgan Stanley" but used "your Chief Executive Officer."

One sentence precisely pinned the matter from a corporate act onto personal grievance and managerial negligence.

The voice on the other end fell silent for a moment, as if chewing on the hidden edge in Lu Qingshan's words.

"This is an extremely serious accusation, Mr. Lu."

In Rockefeller's voice, no joy or anger could be discerned.

"But it is also an extremely foolish act."

"I agree."

Lu Qingshan walked to the window, a hand in his pocket, gazing at the brilliantly lit Manhattan below.

"Foolish enough to make me wonder whether the so‑called rules Wall Street prides itself on are merely a scrap of paper that can be torn at any time."

Those words were the real killing move.

It shifted the target from John Parker alone to the entire Wall Street reputation system.

Rockefeller clearly understood.

"The rules still exist, but some enforcers have forgotten to revere them."

In the old man's voice, a hint of weight finally emerged.

"Mr. Parker will pay the price his foolishness deserves. The Morgan Stanley Board will soon give you a satisfactory answer."

He paused, then began to lay out his own chips.

"Besides that, to compensate for the trouble this has caused you and your team, the Rockefeller family is willing to make restitution in a private capacity. Name a figure, and you set it."

"Go ahead."

David Cohen's eyes lit up instantly, his body leaning forward slightly with excitement.

"One hundred billion? Or two hundred billion?"

"If at this moment Lu Qingshan nods, they can instantly become one of the world's richest fund teams!"

Yet Lu Qingshan let out a light laugh.

The laugh was faint, transmitted through the line, but it sounded especially harsh.

"Mr. Rockefeller, do you think I'm short of money?"

He retorted.

"Or perhaps you think my life, and my team's lives, can be measured with money?"

The other end fell silent again.

The excitement on David Cohen's face froze instantly.

He watched Lu Qingshan's back, feeling his brain could not comprehend what was unfolding.

Someone refused the blank check the Rockefeller family offered?

"So, Mr. Lu, what do you want?"

Rockefeller's voice carried a genuine solemnity for the first time.

He realized that the young man on the other end wanted nothing to do with the chips on the table.

"I want a guarantee."

Lu Qingshan spoke slowly.

"A guarantee that there will never again be a second or third John Parker dealt with by such despicable means."

"The Wall Street rules are set by you; I can say I will obey."

"However, if anyone breaks the rules, I want the authority to personally clean out the gate."

Li Junjie jerked his head up; he finally understood.

What Lu Qingshan wanted was not money, nor Morgan Stanley shares, nor any apology.

What he wanted was the Imperial Sword!

He wanted a "kill license" personally endorsed by the American capital Emperor, one that could walk across Wall Street!

"Mr. Lu, your request is quite interesting."

Rockefeller's voice sounded as if he were appraising a work of art rather than discussing a request capable of overturning Wall Street's entire ecosystem.

"Do you wish to become Wall Street's police? As far as I know, that role belongs to the Securities Commission and the FBI."

"No."

Lu Qingshan shook his head.

"The police maintain order; I, however, hunt the beasts that disrupt order in the darkness."

"John Parker opened a very nasty precedent, Mr. Rockefeller. He showed everyone that when financial tools fail, there are more direct violent means."

"If this Pandora's box is opened, today it targets me; tomorrow, who will it target? The Goldman Sachs CEO? The Citibank chairman? Or even… a disobedient member of the Rockefeller family?"

Each word from Lu Qingshan was like a precise scalpel, cutting through Wall Street's polished veneer to expose the blood‑soaked Jungle Law beneath.

David Cohen's back was already drenched in cold sweat.

He heard it: Lu Qingshan wasn't making a request; he was issuing a warning.

He is telling Rockefeller, "You need me more than I need you."

You need a sufficiently ferocious, sufficiently unrestrained "outsider" to act as a butcher and intimidate all the restless ambitionists.

Using Eastern logic, this is called "using barbarians to control barbarians."

"I need time to consider."

On the other end of the phone, a trace of fatigue seeped through the old man's voice.

"Of course."

Lu Qingshan behaved very magnanimously.

"However, my patience is limited. Moreover, I believe the Morgan Stanley board's patience is even more limited than mine."

He raised his hand and glanced at the watch on his wrist.

"I give you twelve hours. After twelve hours, if I have not received a satisfactory answer, then all evidence concerning Mr. Parker's purchase of murder—including his motive to silence witnesses, that is, his failed Short Selling and attempt to conceal the company's massive losses—will appear in the Wall Street Journal and in every commissioner of the Federal Securities Commission's mailbox."

"By then, what we will face is not a rogue CEO, but the thunderous collapse of a century‑old investment bank and a perfect storm that sweeps across the United States and even the global financial markets."

Lu Qingshan finished speaking, gave the other side no chance to reply, and hung up the phone outright.

"Beep… beep… beep…"

The busy tone reverberated in the dead silence of the apartment.

Everyone seemed to have their souls drawn out, staring blankly at Lu Qingshan.

Lu Qingjun opened his mouth, after a long pause managed to say, "Brother… is it… hung up?"

That's Rockefeller!

You just hung up the phone like that?

And gave him a twelve‑hour ultimatum?

"Otherwise…?"

Lu Qingshan tossed the phone back onto the sofa and lifted again the glass of champagne that had barely any bubbles left.

"Keep the phone number and wish him a happy New Year during the Spring Festival?"

He looked around at his completely stunned subordinates and shook his head.

"Alright, stop standing there like idiots."

"Ye Ning, contact Wilson, have him ready; once Morgan Stanley begins internal liquidation of Parker, we will immediately launch a full‑scale attack on Lehman Brothers' stock price."

"Li Junjie, David, go over all the 'ammunition' concerning Lehman Brothers' financial issues again, ensuring every bullet hits a vital point."

"Qianru, coordinate with the legal team and prepare the legal documents to take over Morgan Stanley's partial assets in the Asian region."

Lu Qingshan issued the orders one by one, his tone as if Rockefeller's concession were already in his pocket.

"Brother, take over… Morgan Stanley's assets?"

Lu Qingjun felt his tongue had swollen.

"Right."

Lu Qingshan looked at him and said, as a matter of course.

"Having only a license and no Hunting Rifle— how can that work?"

"John Parker wants to flip the table; then we'll make both him and the table our spoils."

He raised his glass toward everyone.

"Rest well tonight."

"Tomorrow, we go to Wall Street to collect rent."