Chloe had dressed Iron King and the four assassins in formal attire.
These five had been attending etiquette classes for several days. They learned Western dining manners, waltz steps, social graces, proper dressing... Even their walking posture and which watches complemented which outfits - everything was covered.
Ordinary people wouldn't know these things because they'd never be taught them.
But nobles receive this education. And the worst part? This training costs a fortune.
The hired teachers charge by the hour. Four thousand dollars per session!
Even this is beyond most people's means.
When Fyren approached, the five immediately bowed and nodded. The etiquette teacher snapped sternly, "Posture! Expression! Have you forgotten everything?"
The five froze momentarily before straightening their backs, adopting solemn expressions, and offering slight nods - exactly like the black-suited bodyguards in action movies, radiating absolute solemnity and overwhelming presence!
They glanced around. Everyone wore perfectly tailored custom suits with pure gold cufflinks, snow-white shirts, and premium leather shoes...
Fyren smiled. "Yes, this is quite impressive."
Iron King exhaled, his rigid posture instantly slouching as he shrank several inches. With a goofy grin, he said, "Young lord, we're rough men. Why must we learn this? Put us to work! We can protect Miss Leng and Miss Xena without fail."
Fyren kept smiling. "Do you know your training costs?"
Iron King scratched his head. "Heard it's steep. This teacher might as well eat money. They say it's over thirty thousand per hour - worse than robbery."
Fyren said, "Remember - you're no longer Red Guards. You're my men now. You must distinguish yourselves from common thugs."
Iron King grinned. "We rely on real skills. We fight and kill—"
"Silence!"
Fyren cut him off harshly. "Must you babble? Focus on your studies! Let me educate you properly. You're not foot soldiers anymore. Not ordinary Red Guards. You're becoming upper-class elites, fundamentally different from those fools who can't tell a good suit. Understood?"
The five stood stunned before nodding quickly.
"Keep spouting nonsense, and I'll hand you directly to Copper King."
Iron King hurriedly replied, "Young lord, don't be angry. We'll study. We'll study hard."
"Damn it, you're all howling like wild dogs!" Fyren shouted angrily. "Lazy, useless, starving good-for-nothings! Like mud that won't stick to walls!"
Fyren approached the teacher with a broad smile. "Teacher, you've worked hard."
The teacher complained in English: "These men are unmanageable. They don't listen and show violent tendencies! Fyren, I know you want elegant bodyguards, but they're beyond my capability. I must resign."
"Teacher!"
Fyren responded in fluent English: "I'll double your salary, but please stay. Don't judge them harshly. Each possesses unique skills - they're rare talents. I need you to help remake them completely."
Iron King leaned toward Chloe and whispered: "Chloe, what are Fyren and that guy blabbering about?"
Chloe smiled: "You've truly angered the teacher. He wants to quit. Fyren's begging him to stay, praising your unique skills - says you just need etiquette polishing."
Iron King was touched.
He told his brothers: "When Fyren scolds us, he leaves no dignity intact. But he opens his wallet wide too! See how he keeps praising us to outsiders? Brothers, let's buck up! Study hard to be Fyren's worthy underlings!"
"Brother, I'm moved. Never seen Fyren plead so humbly before!"
"Brother, why don't we just beat the teacher into submission? One thrashing and he'll comply."
After finishing negotiations, Fyren turned to Chloe: "Transfer double salary to the teacher. Handle all his mainland expenses personally. Book him a luxury suite with impeccable service."
"Yes, Fyren."
Suppressing rage, Fyren glared at the blockheads: "Stay sharp! One more complaint from the teacher and I'll skin you alive!"
...
Zaring drove Fyren's car, seething internally.
"Fyren."
"Hmm?"
Fyren didn't look up from his newspaper.
"You're training those five... Will you still need me afterward?" he asked anxiously.
Fyren raised his head: "What nonsense is this?"
Chloe chuckled beside Fyren: "Zaring's jealous!"
"Oh." Fyren understood: "Seeing their fat paychecks makes you insecure, eh?"
"No! I just..."
Fyren explained: "You're different, Zaring. They possess unique skills worthy of this treatment. Frankly, if not for the Mighty Syndicate trapping them, they'd command equal pay anywhere."
"Oh." Zaring's heart sank further. He couldn't match their prowess - did that mean obsolescence?
"But loyalty? You're unmatched. So relax."
"Heh." Zaring finally grinned: "Knew it! Fyren treats me as family!"
Fyren set down the newspaper, absently patting Chloe's thigh with one large hand:
"The situation's complex now. Too many fronts to prioritize."
Chloe flushed: "How about devouring Qianfeng first?"
"Hmm?"
Chloe continued: "The Shantytown Project's first phase has begun - we've invested over a hundred billion. Later stages may require other families' capital. Our liquid funds are extremely limited now."
"Taking Qianfeng could yield another stock market windfall. We need cash reserves desperately. If the capital chain ruptures later... both our funds and the other families' investments will evaporate."
Zaring was utterly despondent.
Such was the curse of his kind of wealthy family.
Luxury cars, sprawling mansions, parties with beautiful women, extravagant feasts… He could casually uncork a million-dollar bottle of wine without blinking, never wanting for petty cash.
But what he lacked was real capital—the kind measured in billions, even hundreds of billions. A single financial pit could swallow trillions in an instant.
Fyren absently stroked Chloe's stocking-clad leg and murmured, "Eliza is at her lowest point right now. Reviving Qianfeng is her dream. I can't betray her."
Chloe met his gaze solemnly. "Those who achieve greatness don't sweat the small stuff. Let her manage Qianfeng after we acquire it—it doesn't contradict her ambitions. My advice? Secure Eliza first, then swallow Qianfeng whole. It'll ease our burden down the line."
Fyren stiffened. "What kind of scheme is that? That's ruthless. Devour the person, then their fortune—how could you even suggest such a thing?"
Because it's exactly what you'd think of! Chloe bit back the words. You've always had a vicious streak.
Aloud, she said, "Morally dubious, yes. But the market is a battlefield. If the tables were turned, the other families wouldn't hesitate to gut us. Sentimentality has no place here. You know that."
Fyren inhaled sharply. She wasn't wrong.
"The principle stands…"
"And Eliza—Miss Eliza—is hopelessly in love with you. Exploiting her feelings now would be a masterstroke. Opportunities like this don't come twice. No one in their right mind would pass it up."
"Fyren, you've always had vision. Why the sudden attack of conscience?"
He wavered.
[Take Eliza? Now? How vile!]
[Besides, I don't want to get entangled with these female leads!]
[But Chloe… I can't just discard her. This girl—she's intoxicating. The way her fingers trail over my thigh whenever she pleases… I'd never surrender that to anyone.]
A flicker of triumph lit Chloe's eyes, her gaze tinged with yearning.
From the front seat, Zaring cut in gravely, "Fyren, in all my years at your side, I've never seen you falter on a decision like this. Chloe's right. If we don't seize Qingfeng Group, someone else will. I don't understand your hesitation."
Fyren remained silent.
Then, Maggie's phone rang.
"Hello? Maggie."
"Fyren, the Leng family's stock is dipping again."
"What?"
"The earlier surge was due to the business war. Now that it's over, the numbers are falling. My analyst insists you strike now—take Qianfeng before it's too late. This window won't stay open forever!"
"How could you say that too?"
Over on the call, Maggie paused, momentarily stunned. "This is just... business, isn't it? Business works this way. We've absorbed countless failing enterprises before."
Fyren replied, "I get it. I'll think it over."
"Fyren!" Maggie immediately sensed his hesitation—his decision seemed to be veering away from hers. "You need to decide fast. Opportunities don't wait. Who knows what'll happen in a few days? If we miss this opening, there might not be another."
"I understand."
Fyren felt adrift.
Business rules were like the power struggles of warring states—the strong devouring the weak, an unshakable law.
But when it came to himself… why was it so hard?
Eliza…
The thought of her—that proud woman, her wounded gaze, the sorrow and accusation in her eyes as she looked at him.
The memory of her humiliation, how she'd tried to soothe him even while her own heart ached—
Just then, Xena's call cut through his thoughts.
"Big sister, what's wrong now?"
"Oh, come on! Is this how you always are? When you need me, it's 'Xena this, Xena that.' When you don't, you bully me, snap at me, can't even bother to sound patient on the phone!"
"Alright, alright—what is it?"
"Listen to this."
"Dad's moving to take over Qianfeng. He's already in talks with Elton Leng."
Fyren jerked upright. "What did you just say!?"