bookbashuk Page 233
Page 233
Franky laughed: "Victor is probably getting married."
·······
The next morning, Viktor encountered Vitali Klitschko in the hotel gym.
Surprisingly, Klitschko was also there, though pale, he was already able to do light training.
"Vladimir!"
Viktor went up and hugged the other person. "You look much better."
Klitschko smiled: "It's just a concussion, nothing that scary. I heard you signed with Luis?"
Victor nodded: "In London in May."
Klitschko exchanged a glance with his brother: "Be careful, Viktor. Louis may be old, but he's never been a lightweight opponent. He chose to challenge you now, so he must be well-prepared."
Victor frowned: "Do you know anything about this?"
Vitali Klitschko interjected: "Joe Louis recently hired a German sports science team and adopted a completely new training method. Rumor has it that his speed has returned to its peak level after losing weight."
"Why are you telling me this?"
Victor asked, "We are adversaries."
Wladimir Klitschko patted Viktor on the shoulder: "Boxing needs real competition, not opportunism. We hope to see a fair and legendary fight."
On his way back to his room, Viktor pondered the words of the Klitschko brothers.
Perhaps his assessment of Luis was too hasty; this will certainly not be an easy game.
My phone rang. It was a text from Max: "Thanks for last night. PS: I tried making a traditional Danish ebleskiver cake, and it sparked some inspiration. A new product line is starting to take shape!"
Victor smiled and replied, "Looking forward to trying it. By the way, why do you love pastries so much?"
A few minutes later, Max replied: “Dessert is a way to celebrate life. Even on the worst days, there is a right to enjoy a little sweetness. That’s what my mother told me; she used to be the best homemade cake maker in the Bronx.”
Victor thought for a moment and replied, "She will be very proud of you."
He put down his phone and suddenly had an idea.
After getting through to Old Joe, Victor went straight to the point: "What's your view on opposition? Like the black-and-white opposition?"
Old Joe was getting on in years and didn't understand: "What do you mean?"
"It costs a sum of money, perhaps hundreds of thousands of dollars per year."
Viktor delivered the fatal blow: "Let black and white be opposed, gender can also be opposed—even hundreds of genders, meat and vegetables can be opposed, environmental protection can be opposed, income can be opposed... and everything else can be opposed."
"But we are at the very bottom of the social hierarchy."
"No matter what, we can't make them unite."
·······
On the day he left Copenhagen, Viktor met an unexpected person at the airport—Joe Lewis.
The veteran, alone with simple luggage, looked more like an ordinary traveler than a boxing legend.
Victor raised an eyebrow and asked.
Louis laughed: "There are no coincidences in the world of boxing. I knew your flight and came here specifically to meet you."
The two walked toward the VIP lounge, and Victor noticed that Louis's steps were light, which was indeed not like that of a 38-year-old boxer.
Why choose now?
Viktor asked directly, "You've been semi-retired for two years now; you can train for even longer."
Louis's expression turned serious: "My daughter has been diagnosed with a rare disease, and treatment requires a lot of money. Insurance doesn't cover everything. Time won't wait for me."
He paused, then added, "And I want her to see that her father is not someone who runs away from challenges."
Victor nodded: "I understand. But I won't show any mercy."
"I can't either,"
A fighting spirit flashed in Louis's eyes. "We'll see in May."
Before boarding, Viktor took one last look at Copenhagen.
The city gave him the joy of successfully defending his title, an unexpected reunion, and a promise for the future.
After the plane took off, he opened the gift Max had given him before he left—a box of handmade ebleskiver cakes with a card attached:
To Viktor:
Life is like baking a cake; it's not about how good the ingredients are, but how you put them together.
Looking forward to seeing you again—as a better version of myself.
Viktor smiled and took a bite of the cake; it was sweet but not cloying, and had just the right amount of warmth.
He suddenly gained a new understanding of the May match against Louis.
This is not just a title defense, nor is it just a contest between two boxers.
This is a story about respecting legends, proving yourself, and how lives intertwine in unexpected ways.
He looked out at the clouds and whispered to himself, "See you in London, Louis. Let's create a game that will be remembered."
Then he took out his phone and began to plan how to support Max's dream without hurting her self-esteem.
Sometimes, the fights outside the boxing ring are just as important, or even more important.
The plane swept across the skies over Northern Europe, heading towards its next destination.
Chapter 197 Financial Crisis Requires Buying at the Bottom
In April, the wind in Chicago was still biting, blowing from Lake Michigan and carrying the lingering chill of winter, as the city, which had just experienced a financial catastrophe, was swept by the wind.
Pedestrians hurried along the streets, their faces grave. The aftershocks of "Black Monday" in the newspapers had not yet dissipated, and the shadow of bankruptcy and unemployment loomed over everyone's hearts.
Amidst this somber atmosphere, Victor's private jet landed at O'Hare International Airport.
He's back, from Denmark back to the roots of his business—the Windy City of Chicago.
There was no grand welcome; only a few black Cadillac Fleetwoods were quietly parked beside the tarmac, their windows tinted to block outside prying eyes.
Despite his young age, Victor has already amassed a formidable reputation within the Skywind City Group.
They act with a low profile, yet their methods are ruthless, much like the weather in Chicago—seemingly calm, but actually harboring a sharp edge.
Back in his office on the top floor of the Skywind City Group headquarters in the Lupu District, Victor didn't even get a proper rest.
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the city skyline is shrouded in gray. Several high-rise construction sites have stopped work, and the tower cranes are still, like the skeletons of giant beasts, silently telling the story of the cruelty of the market.
"Is everyone here?"
Victor's voice was calm, revealing no emotional fluctuation. He took off his coat, which his assistant immediately took from him.
"Yes, Mr. Li. Board members and senior executives from business units are all in the conference room."
Feng, who was acting as an assistant, responded in a low voice, not daring to be negligent in the slightest.
The air in the conference room seemed to freeze.
The long table was filled with the group's key figures, but no one was talking, and there was very little eye contact.
When Viktor walked in, everyone unconsciously straightened their backs.
The meeting began with a routine briefing on the group's recent business operations, inevitably mentioning the severe impact of "Black Monday":
Multiple projects have stalled, assets have shrunk, and cash flow is tight.
The atmosphere became increasingly oppressive.
However, this is only the prelude.
Victor tapped the table lightly, his gaze sweeping across the room.
"Business difficulties are common to everyone, and we can get through them together."
Viktor paused, his voice suddenly turning cold, "But the internal worms cannot be tolerated; they must be removed."
He nodded to Joe, who was sitting in the corner—his most trusted man.
Old Joe's auditing firm is not large, but it is highly regarded in the industry for its old-fashioned style and keen sense of smell. It is especially good at finding human loopholes in complex accounts.
Opening the folder in front of him, Old Joe didn't waste any time on pleasantries and went straight to his presentation.
Reports, data sets, and records of abnormal fund flows were clearly displayed on the screen via projector.
At first, some people tried to defend themselves or remain calm, but as Old Joe's emotionless narration went on, more and more people began to turn pale and break out in a cold sweat.
The audit results were shocking.
By using methods such as project approvals, inflated procurement costs, contract kickbacks, and false expense reimbursements, two powerful department managers and the heads of fifteen key projects formed a greedy network over the past two years, especially during the period of the group's fastest business expansion and slightly relaxed supervision, silently eroding the group's assets.
Especially during the market turmoil around "Black Monday," they even tried to use the panic to cover up even greater misappropriation, attempting to blame the financial losses on the market crash.
Old Joe's audit report was like a precise scalpel, peeling away all pretense and completely exposing the festering sore.
The amount of money involved was enormous, and more importantly, this behavior challenged the ironclad rule set by Victor Lee—that the internal affairs must remain "clean."
"Put money in your own pocket,"
Viktor's voice rang out again, breaking the deathly silence of the conference room, "In some people's eyes, it may not be a big deal, especially when everyone is trying to protect themselves."
He stood up, slowly walked to the window, and turned his back to everyone.
He turned around abruptly, his gaze sharp as a hawk's. "It would be bad if you went out and spread nonsense, treating the group's internal troubles as drunken gossip, or even as a pledge of allegiance to someone else."
Franky stood up, his voice booming like thunder, his brows sharp as knives—he was the toughest, because only his department was unaffected, perhaps because they had no projects.
"We're all the same on the outside, so I thought we all had the same heart. But someone actually wants to change their heart to white. Why don't they just change their skin to white? I can't stand it!"
The white-skinned Russian woman remained calm—she not only had a yellow heart, but also wanted a yellow-skinned child inside her.
H.R. stood up: "Skin them alive!"
The investigation revealed that the two managers not only embezzled funds, but also complained about the group's predicament in external settings, including when contacting members of some competitors, implying that there were problems with Victor Lee's leadership, and even leaked some sensitive financial data in an attempt to find a way out for themselves.
"We're not the mafia, we're just a company. Stop saying things like that. Fire them, recover the funds, report them to the police..."
Viktor's approach was simple, direct, and even cruel.