booktalesy Chapter 280 Texas Red Wine
Chapter 280 Texas Red Wine
Lower Manhattan, 40 Wall Street.
This 70-story neo-Gothic skyscraper was once a landmark on the Manhattan skyline. However, due to ownership disputes with its former owner and a persistently high vacancy rate, it was recently put up for sale by Restructuring Trust (RTC) along with its debt. (The building is now called "Trump Building," and the White House investment guru was originally slated to buy it in 1995.)
It just welcomed a new owner yesterday afternoon.
Robert, the senior property manager appointed by the building's liquidation team, stood at the elevator entrance on the top floor.
He raised his wrist to check his watch, and quickly rubbed his right fingers along the seam of his suit trousers.
Today is the first on-site takeover after the transfer of ownership of the building. He had rehearsed his defense of environmental protection and building maintenance costs countless times in his mind, preparing to face a portly Wall Street tycoon who was extremely cunning at the negotiating table.
The elevator's floor indicator light jumped to "70".
"bite."
The brass-cast elevator indicator lights up. The elevator doors slide smoothly open to both sides.
The property manager immediately bent down, his facial muscles twitching into a perfectly standard business smile.
Frank, CEO of SA Investment, stepped out of the elevator first. Closely following him was the tall, sharp-eyed butler, Fujita Tsuyoshi.
The property manager was just about to speak when he greeted him.
Frank and Fujita, however, took a half-step back to either side with perfect understanding.
An Asian girl wearing a beige sleeveless dress and a raffia hat stepped into the dimly lit top floor.
Her fair ankles were clad in a pair of casual flat shoes, and her gaze was curiously taking in the brass reliefs around her, which were intricately carved but covered in a little dust.
The property manager remained bent over, his gaze lingering on the excessively young girl for half a second.
I had heard that SA Investment was backed by Asian capital, and now it seems that I was right.
The Asian girl who could make the famous CEO Frank follow closely behind must be the daughter of the behind-the-scenes boss.
But why would they let a little kid show up in this kind of situation? Hmm, based on his understanding of those people, it's very possible that this building is just a large-scale toy that the big boss casually bought for his daughter.
Having grasped this logic, the property manager immediately forgot all the dry financial reports he had prepared.
You can't submit any financial statements when serving this kind of young lady.
He lowered his back again.
"Welcome to 40 Wall Street, esteemed lady." The property manager's voice softened. "These brass reliefs you see here are original historical artifacts, perfectly preserved since the 1920s. And this entire 70th floor beneath your feet was once the exclusive office area for successive presidents of Manhattan Bank. This building has witnessed half a century of rise and fall of Wall Street, and today, it has finally found its true owner."
Satsuki stopped in her tracks.
She looked at the property manager in front of her, who had a beaming smile and used extremely flowery language, and smiled slightly.
She did not correct the obvious "coaxing a child" tone in the other person's words.
"Lead the way. Let's go see the president's office." Satsuki's tone was gentle.
Please come with me.
The property manager turned around, took a heavy brass key from his pocket, and inserted it into the lock of the heavy walnut double door at the end of the corridor.
"Click".
The door hinges made a dry, grinding sound.
An office with a huge dome structure came into view.
The dome was extremely high, and huge floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded the room. Although it had been unused for a long time, fine dust particles floated in the air. However, the abundant sunlight still poured in without reservation, making the deep red Persian wool carpet inside shine.
"Miss, please allow me to introduce you to this office with its rich historical heritage." The property manager smiled and spoke with refined taste. "The dome above your head and the brass carvings around it were all handcrafted by top artisans before the Great Depression. Such a scale of space and exquisite craftsmanship, regardless of cost, is extremely rare even in the entire Manhattan. Now, it has finally found an owner who truly matches its style."
Satsuki remained silent. She stepped to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, her gaze sweeping over the glass curtain wall and overlooking Lower Manhattan below.
The property manager immediately followed and stopped half a step behind Satsuki.
"The view from here through the panoramic window is impeccable." He raised his hand and gestured slightly towards the window. "You can see not only the entire New York Bay, but also the Statue of Liberty and Governors Island in the distance. Very few people can look down on Wall Street from this height."
He turned his head slightly, observing Satsuki's expression. He watched as the girl was gazing intently at the scenery outside the window.
This young lady seems to be in a good mood now, so let's take this opportunity to quickly go through the motions and finish explaining that disappointing compliance issue.
The property manager maintained a respectful demeanor, his tone carrying an unavoidable air of restraint.
"However, according to the legally required disclosure process, I must explain to you that during our routine inspection last month, we discovered a significant amount of asbestos remnants from the 1970s within the ventilation ducts and fireproofing layer on the building's ground floor. A budget will be needed for asbestos stripping if the building is to be put back into commercial operation."
Frank stood to the side, his brow slightly furrowed.
"A $20 million asbestos stripping project. We've already calculated this expense before the deal was closed. We'll also face a work stoppage inspection by the EPA during construction," Frank stated, preparing to inquire further about the construction schedule.
Satsuki raised her right hand and gently pressed it down in mid-air.
He interrupted Frank.
"Find the best construction team in all of New York. Tear down all those asbestos-filled pipes on the ground floor and replace them with new ones." Satsuki walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the bustling Wall Street below. "The budget is unlimited. I just want speed."
She turned her head and looked at the property manager.
"You can go out and wait. Also, notify the team downstairs to prepare for the project bidding."
"Okay, please take a rest."
Yes! He's definitely not short of money!
The property manager breathed a sigh of relief and immediately bowed as he left the dome office.
The heavy walnut door slowly closed behind us. The latch clicked shut with a crisp clanging sound.
Only two people remained in the domed office.
Satsuki stood with her hands behind her back, her gaze passing over the glass curtain wall and landing diagonally below on the classical colonnade roof of the New York Stock Exchange, where a huge national flag was hanging.
"Frank".
Satsuki's voice echoed in the empty room.
"What do you think of this place?"
Frank walked to Satsuki's side. His gaze swept across the expansive horizon, then back to the domed structure, which exuded a sense of historical weight.
"Very good." Frank nodded. "The view here is the best in all of Lower Manhattan. The building's foundation is also very sturdy. Once the renovation is complete, its commercial value will multiply."
"That's good."
Satsuki turned around.
"This building will become SA Investment's new global headquarters."
She raised her hand and pointed to the space around her.
"Tell the employees to get ready. Once the renovation is finished, you'll move out of that run-down little building you're currently renting."
Frank stood there, stunned.
He didn't immediately realize where the small, dilapidated building was.
SA Investments' current office in Midtown Manhattan is located on the top floor of the Pan Am Building, a top-tier office building adjacent to Grand Central Terminal with exorbitant rents. In the eyes of Wall Street investment banks, having a company located on the top floor of the Pan Am Building is a symbol of power.
How come it became a dilapidated little building in the young lady's mouth?
However... the Pan Am Tower's ownership ultimately belongs to someone else. And this historic landmark, standing at seventy stories high, now belongs entirely to Saionji.
The transformation from a tenant to an owner of a prime Wall Street landmark truly represents a fundamental leap in social class.
Before Frank could even respond, Satsuki had already walked to the dusty, old oak desk in the center of the room.
She stretched out her finger and tapped it lightly twice on the table.
"This domed office will be your new office, Frank."
……
Tokyo. The underground living quarters of the Saionji Information System (SIS).
The air was filled with a strong aroma of black coffee.
Amy sat in front of the computer screen.
She wore thick, blue-light blocking glasses. A strawberry-flavored lollipop was dangling from her mouth, the stick bobbing up and down with each bite.
The fingers of the left hand flew across the mechanical keyboard, while the right hand controlled the mouse, constantly dragging and zooming between rows of complex bioelectric signal band diagrams.
"That shouldn't be the case..."
Amy muttered to herself. She stared intently at the set of live test data that had just been transmitted back from the Hokkaido biological laboratory on the left side of the screen.
"After the Utah Array was implanted into the M1 motor cortex of rhesus monkeys, the physical reaction of the brain tissue to produce an immune rejection was too intense."
She bit the hard lollipop in her mouth.
"The speed at which the glial cell scar encapsulates the probe contact point completely exceeds theoretical predictions. This layer of connective tissue directly leads to higher signal impedance captured by the spiking neural network (SNN)."
The sound of keyboard typing became frantic.
"The logic feedback for feature extraction... there is still a significant delay in the reverse write command. A delay of more than 80 milliseconds makes it impossible to achieve millisecond-level decoding and deceptive writing of neural action potentials. If this impedance is not addressed through materials science, the living organism will not survive more than three months before dying from cortical infection."
"Materials...materials again...what's the difference between this subject and alchemy?!"
At that moment, a red landline connected to an international satellite suddenly rang at the edge of the control panel.
Amy's fingers, which were typing on the keyboard, suddenly froze in mid-air.
Only one person will make this call.
"Ah...ah, it's Satsuki-chan!"
Amy instinctively cheered.
However, due to the high-pressure work for dozens of consecutive hours, coupled with her slightly "extreme" emotions when thinking, the voice she spoke at this moment sounded as harsh as the voice of some vengeful ghost.
Amy herself was startled by the sound.
"Huh?! Who's speaking!"
She clutched her neck as if she'd been electrocuted and glanced left and right.
Ah, that's not my voice! What if Satsuki-chan dislikes me when I talk to her like this?
She quickly took a deep breath and vigorously rubbed her stiff facial muscles with both hands.
"Cough, cough..."
She pinched her throat and cleared it softly.
"Mi...ma...uh...Satsuki-chan...Satsuki-chan~"
After several deliberate vocal exercises and stretching sessions, my dry throat finally regained that sweet and soft resonance tone.
Once she confirmed that the voice had become softer and sweeter, Amy grabbed the red telephone receiver and pressed it tightly against her ear.
"Satsuki-chan!"
"Did you eat on time in New York? Did you have a headache from jet lag? Did you take your medication on time last night? Did anyone bully you?"
A series of urgent concerns traveled across the Pacific Ocean along the undersea fiber optic cable.
Inside the domed office at 40 Wall Street in Lower Manhattan.
Satsuki sat on the edge of the oak desk that Fujita had polished until it shone. She held the receiver in her hand, listening to a barrage of messages from her classmate on the other end of the phone.
"I ate on time. The steak portions here in New York are ridiculously large." Satsuki's lips curled into a light smile. "But why did it take you so long to answer the phone? Were you busy, or did I disturb your rest? I heard from Uncle Masato that you stayed up for three consecutive nights to run the new architecture data for SIS."
"No! I'm fine! I'm not tired at all!" Amy hurriedly reassured him on the other end of the phone.
She gripped the red receiver tightly with both hands and glanced at the live brainwave feedback graph on the screen.
"I was just... I was drinking water and accidentally choked!" she quickly made up an excuse. "The data testing of the new architecture is going smoothly. It'll be finished soon!"
I absolutely cannot let Satsuki-chan know that I'm secretly conducting this kind of experiment.
Satsuki leaned against the edge of the table, fiddling with the telephone cord.
"My next trip is to Texas. There are several large oil field asset acquisitions to discuss there."
She looked out the window.
"Speaking of which, Amy, what kind of gift would you like? One of those limited-edition handbags from Fifth Avenue? Or the latest Cartier jewelry?"
Inside the Tokyo server room.
Amy hugged the receiver, curling her legs even tighter in the chair.
"We don't need those expensive brands."
Amy responded softly on the phone.
"Anything that Satsuki-chan personally picked out is fine."
She paused for two seconds, tilted her head, and thought for a moment.
"If I happen to pass by Times Square, I'd like a Statue of Liberty keychain... preferably one of those cutesy-ugly ones you find in tourist souvenir shops. And..."
Amy bit her lip.
"How about we each take one?"
Inside her Wall Street office, Satsuki listened to the somewhat absurd request from a girl her age on the other end of the phone.
She couldn't help but laugh out loud. Her clear laughter echoed under the empty dome.
"An ugly-cute Statue of Liberty?" Satsuki agreed with a smile. "Okay. I'll have Fujita go find one at the street stalls in Times Square later... Hmm, I'll go myself. If it's not ugly enough, I won't buy it."
Amy's satisfied cheers came from the other end of the phone.
"Okay, let's talk about it later. You go ahead and do your thing."
"Mmm! Thank you, Satsuki-chan!"
Satsuki hung up the phone. The receiver fell back to its base.
She turned her head, just about to ask Fujita to arrange the purchase of keychains.
Frank, carrying a black briefcase, strode quickly into the outer room of the conference room.
His expression darkened slightly, and his brows furrowed.
Frank walked to the oak desk. He tucked his briefcase under his arm and solemnly held an envelope without any postmark in both hands, handing it to Satsuki.
"Young Miss".
Frank's voice was very low.
"The general manager of the Metropolitan Club just drove all the way to Wall Street and handed me this invitation downstairs. However, this is against protocol; it didn't go through our security screening in the New York public relations department."
Satsuki didn't even glance at the letter.
"Refund it." She waved her hand casually. "My schedule is packed this week. I need to buy keychains. I'm not seeing anyone this week before I leave for Texas."
Frank did not pull his hand back.
This letter is somewhat special. The envelope is made of special banknote paper supplied by Crane & Co., a type of exclusive letter paper typically used only by Washington's top politicians and White House staff.
"Miss," Frank continued handing over the invitation, "it was extended by an honorary director of Goldman Sachs. Moreover, he used his privileges to reserve the club's most secluded 'Roosevelt Suite.' The time is set for tomorrow night at eight o'clock."
Seeing that Satsuki remained unmoved, Frank took a deep breath and recited the message left by the other party's manager word for word.
"The messenger specifically mentioned something rather strange."
He said, "The red wine for tomorrow night is from a Texas estate. I hope you can grace us with your presence and sample it, to celebrate the remarkable efficiency that Tokyo has demonstrated recently."
Satsuki, who was about to slide off the edge of the table, slowly stopped.
Texas. Tokyo's efficiency.
Are those people in the White House in such a hurry? Are they so eager to repay this favor? Or...are they trying to test me?
Satsuki could roughly guess what the other party was going to do.
The war in the Middle East had just begun. In an effort to curry favor with the United States, and under strong pressure from the Saionji family behind the scenes, the Kaifu Cabinet, with an efficiency far exceeding the typical slow pace of Japanese bureaucracy, directly and forcefully allocated a massive $13 billion in military spending to the Diet. (In reality, the Kaifu Cabinet delayed for quite some time.)
This money just filled the military equipment hole that the Pentagon burned in the desert.
Washington politicians have clearly figured out who was behind the whipping of Tokyo's bureaucrats.
Satsuki placed the raffia hat she was holding on the table.
She extended her right hand and passed the gold-embossed Crane & Co. cotton envelope between Frank's fingers.
He gently rubbed his fingertips against the rough texture of the paper.
"It seems the trip to Texas will have to be postponed."
Satsuki looked at the letter in her hand.
"Notify the security team."
"Our itinerary for tomorrow night has been changed. We're going to the Metropolitan Club."