Chapter 447: Final Entrance! An Invitation from the Rothschilds!

The phone was abruptly hung up.

That faint click completely ended the roar from Washington and left the almost vacuumed top‑floor room of Saint Remo Apartment in a deathly silence beyond any quiet.

Lu Qingjun watched his older brother hang up, then leisurely finished the now slightly cooled cup of black tea, the whole process flowing smoothly, as if he had just been confirming an order with a delivery guy rather than delivering an ultimatum to the Finance Minister of the world's leading superpower.

"Brother..." Lu Qingjun's Adam's apple rolled, his voice dry as Sahara sand, "Is that... it?"

"What's over?" Lu Qingshan placed the teacup back on the table, "The Appetizer (document) just finished, the main course hasn't arrived yet."

He scanned his team, who seemed as if they'd all been hit at the same pressure point.

"Ye Ning."

"... present." Ye Ning's reply lagged a beat; she felt her vocal cords were barely under control.

"Book me an Air Ticket to Geneva." Lu Qingshan's voice was calm, without a ripple, "The sooner the better."

Geneva?

Those three words hammered like an iron hammer onto everyone's crown.

The processor that had just been handling information like "Prime Minister of the United Kingdom hospitalized" and "US Treasury Secretary being lectured" instantly smoked from overload.

"Geneva?!" Li Junjie was the first to snap out of his petrified state, lunging to Lu Qingshan, his voice cracking, "Boss! You're going to Switzerland? Why? Shouldn't we be focusing on AIG and Barclays? Switzerland... Switzerland is a permanently neutral country! Their banks are the world's insurance vaults! What are we doing there?"

"Insurance vault?" Lu Qingshan glanced at him, "A vault filled with American sub‑prime junk that keeps leaking, and you still call it an insurance vault?"

He walked to the massive display screen, which still showed the European bank logo picture from Bowen's office.

He reached out and lightly tapped the icons of CreditSuisse and UBS.

"Bowen and Thatcher, they're foolish, but the Swiss aren't foolish."

"They now know better than anyone the quality of those 'AAA'-rated American assets they hold. They also know that if AIG really collapses, they will be the first to be buried as scapegoats."

"Now, the news that the UK Government hired me as Chief Economic Advisor should have spread throughout Europe's financial circles. Guess what the bankers in Zurich and Geneva are thinking now?"

A flash of lightning seemed to strike Zhang Qianru's mind, and she whispered hoarsely, "They... they are wondering how to get in touch with you! How to get you to lend them a hand!"

"No, not to help," Lu Qingshan corrected, "but to give them a chance to join our 'Victims Alliance'."

He turned, looking at his team; the aura of strategic composure instantly gave the previously panicked crowd a backbone.

"My trip to Geneva isn't to fight a war. I'm going to watch a parade."

"I will make all of Europe know that the table has changed. Now, I am the banker."

"I will make them line up, money in hand, begging me to accept their token of allegiance."

These words made the air in the apartment blaze again.

It wasn't fear, but an ultimate exhilaration of about to witness history, even to create it with one's own hands!

"My God... a parade..." David Cohen sprang from the carpet, no longer shouting, but clutching his chest, his face a near‑pilgrimage fervor, "You're not going to negotiate; you're going to receive their collective worship!"

"Enough, stop going mad here." Lu Qingshan waved his hand, beginning to issue new orders.

"Zhang Qianru."

"Present! Mr. Lu!" Zhang Qianru snapped upright, eyes shining.

"Immediately draft a standardized Asset Management Strategic Cooperation agreement for me; the clauses should be simple, but the rights and responsibilities clear. I need a template so we can issue it at any time. Going forward, we may have many new friends."

"Understood! I'll make sure they can read it and can't get away!" Zhang Qianru rushed back to the computer as if injected with adrenaline.

"Li Junjie."

"Boss!"

"Pull up all the financial reports of CreditSuisse and UBS for the past five years! I want you, in the shortest time, to analyze the worst, most painful segment of their balance sheets! I need to know where their wounds are and how deep."

"Yes! I'll even analyze the color of their underwear for you!" A morbid excitement flashed across Li Junjie's face.

"David."

"My Prince! Your command!" David slid into a kneel, stopping before Lu Qingshan.

Lu Qingshan gave him a disdainful glance.

"Stop the act. Go, use all our intelligence channels, whether buying or swapping, I want a list."

"What list?"

"The list of the biggest private clients of CreditSuisse and UBS. Especially those oil princes from the Middle East, dictators from Africa and Latin America, and Russian energy oligarchs. I need to know which accounts hide their money."

David's pupils contracted sharply.

He instantly grasped the terrifying implication of Lu Qingshan's move.

This is no longer pressure at the financial level.

It is shaking the very foundation of Swiss banks—the client confidentiality system!

Once these top‑tier magnates feel their wealth is unsafe, they will, like sharks smelling blood, frantically pull their funds out of Switzerland.

That will be the final straw that breaks the camel!

"Understood... Boss, you're pulling the rug from under them!" David took the order, rolling and crawling toward his workstation.

The entire Saint Remo Apartment, its war‑machine core named "Xinghan Capital," once again surged into full‑speed operation with unimaginable efficiency.

Lu Qingjun silently cleared the broken coffee pot shards from the floor and brewed a fresh pot for everyone.

He watched his older brother's back, and the fanatical yet focused expressions on everyone's faces in the apartment, and an indescribable surge of grandeur rose within him.

This is no mere investment firm.

It is clearly an army poised to conquer the world!

At that moment, Ye Ning's computer emitted a distinct, crisp "ding".

It wasn't a news pop‑up, nor an email alert.

It was an information request sent directly through the highest‑level encrypted channel.

Ye Ning furrowed her brow, opened the message, glanced at it, and her perpetually placid face instantly froze.

She looked up at Lu Qingshan, her voice trembling with a mix of bewilderment and horror that even she could not comprehend.

"Boss…"

"What's wrong?" Lu Qingshan asked.

"A… a letter of invitation."

"Who sent it?"

Ye Ning swallowed hard, and word by word recited the name that, in the Western world, represents the very top of the power pyramid.

"The Freemasons… the Rothschild family, the Europe Executive Committee."

She paused, and in a near‑dreamlike tone, finished the latter half of the sentence.

"They wish to invite you to attend an emergency round‑table meeting tomorrow night, to be held at the ancient castle by the shores of Geneva Lake…."

"The topic is…"

"'Redefining the World Financial New Order.'"