Chapter 122: Fundraising Banquet

The man walking toward us is Jean-Jacques Handali, a senior executive at the Geneva Bank. The woman beside him is the model Cindy Crawford, a top student from Northwestern University, currently on leave.

After speaking through his bone-conduction microphone, Henry turned it off and picked up a small cake from the table to eat.

Not far away, Lady He Ben and Robert approached the couple Henry had described. They shook hands, and the two women greeted each other with cheek kisses.

Lady He Ben spoke first: "Mr. Handali, I've never seen you at the Geneva Bank in Switzerland."

"Oh, Madam, I was assigned to New York long ago. It's perfectly normal you've never seen me in Switzerland."

"New York, as the world's financial center, is undeniably vital. I'm certain that after your experience here, returning to Switzerland will secure you a leadership position in the bank."

"Thank you for your kind words."

Audrey He Ben then warmly greeted his young companion: "Miss Crawford, a top student from Northwestern University, a prodigy of intellect and beauty. Seeing you, even my younger self would have been jealous."

"Oh, Madam, I'm flattered—I've taken a leave from Northwestern to focus on modeling. Your achievements are truly my goal. Perhaps I might ask you some questions about film?"

"Of course, dear."

Cindy Crawford began asking about preparations for entering the film industry, while her companion, Mr. Handali, conversed with Robert about the current hot topic: the crisis of the Northern Red Empire.

All of this, Henry observed and heard from afar with his super senses. He estimated they'd chat another two or three minutes before the next group arrived.

Western social banquets may seem disordered, but they operate by an internal logic. Those outside this circle cannot grasp the underlying rules—only the surface appearance of casualness.

Without going deeper, the undisputed centerpiece of this banquet—and the primary fundraiser—is Audrey He Ben.

Everyone attending this fundraising banquet will speak a few words to Lady He Ben to leave an impression. But no one lingers, because time must be left for others.

If a topic sparks interest—or a matter of business—it will be followed up with a separate meeting.

If not, the exchange remains brief: perhaps signaling interest, perhaps stating a position, then ending. These moments may become topics for future conversations, or reasons to reconnect someday.

As for attendants like Henry, standing quietly at the edges of the banquet ensures no one disturbs him. Grabbing food and drink is no big deal.

At an event attended by the elite, food and drink are certainly not cheap. One can't help wondering whether most of the donated funds are spent on eating and drinking.

Seeing the next group approaching Lady He Ben, Henry swallowed his food whole, turned on his bone-conduction microphone, and said: "Dwayne, Wall Street, head of the Investor Center. A speculator trading junk stocks. His female companion—I don't know her."

Since this is a semi-public fundraising banquet, it's inevitable that all sorts of people slip in.

Besides, Henry's eyes aren't a facial recognition system storing images of every American. Not recognizing someone is common—and usually means they have little 'value.'

Lady He Ben and Robert also noticed the man's cheap attire.

As the saying goes: having an elder in the house is like having a treasure. Those seasoned in worldly affairs often judge people with uncanny accuracy.

Yet neither of them were the type to judge by appearances or relish humiliating others. They exchanged polite pleasantries, politely declined his so-called visionary stock investment, and moved on.

But on the other side, the person providing guest intelligence encountered unexpected trouble.

"A speculator trading junk stocks? What an amusing assessment. Does such a profession truly exist?" Young Tony Stark sipped champagne and bluntly criticized someone's remark.

Seeing this young man, Henry wasn't surprised. "There are countless professions in this world. If it makes money, what's impossible? For instance, do you know someone who gets paid to turn lights on and off for children?"

"How could such a job exist? Don't you dare make up nonsense—I hate that." Tony frowned.

Henry smiled. "In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when streetlamps ran on whale oil, London's city hall hired children to light and extinguish the countless lamps."

"Including refilling the whale oil. You can't declare something nonexistent just because you've never encountered it in your life. Everything around the Stark family doesn't represent the whole world."

"That's invalid—you can't use historical jobs to refute me," Tony protested.

"Your wording is imprecise—you didn't specify a time. If I were a demon, I'd have already claimed your soul." Henry didn't indulge the arrogant young man, firing back directly.

As the boy's face twisted in consternation, trying to think of a retort, Henry turned on his bone-conduction microphone again: "Mr. Howard Stark of Stark Industries, and his wife, Lady Maria Stark."

Tony looked up and saw his parents walking toward Audrey He Ben, the banquet's centerpiece. Lady He Ben and her male companion also broke off their conversation with the speculator and stepped forward to greet them.

Just a few steps away—that's the difference between people.

Even Dwayne, the one left behind, dared not voice any complaint toward the head of Stark Industries. But his female companion showed clear, unashamed intent to cling to them despite the wife standing right there.

Henry turned off the microphone and said: "You came with your parents?"

But instead of answering, Tony Stark was far more interested in the device on Henry's neck. He reached out and snatched the bone-conduction microphone, held in place by a hairband-like clip.

"What is this?"

Henry, stuffing different-flavored mini pancakes into his mouth, didn't hide it: "Microphone."

"You used this to notify that lady? The strange thing on her ear—is that the receiver?"

Two questions in a row. Henry answered with two words: "Mm-hmm."

(End of Chapter)