Chapter 136: I’m Laying My Cards on the Table—If You’ve Got the Guts, Come and Get Me!

The banquet ended in this heavy commercial atmosphere. After the governor’s aide finished some loaded remarks, he left early with the mayor, reportedly to adjust Sabin City’s future development plans.

This was normal. Although the banquet was hosted by Progressive Party members, most attendees were capitalists and business people.

A few politicians showed up, but that wasn’t ideal—it would give the public a scary impression that their elected officials were colluding with capitalists, though the two had never truly been separate.

In the latter half of the banquet, the commercial vibe grew stronger. Many people briefly chatted with Lynch and exchanged contact information. Now they were all business allies who could offer each other small favors if needed.

In a society built on favors and relationships, if you don’t help others, why should they help you? That’s why people scramble to join inner circles—often, being inside a circle equals success.

The influence of this banquet far exceeded the participants’ expectations—or perhaps they were unaware of changes happening outside.

Less than ten minutes after the governor’s aide spoke of unity, the board of directors at Liston Group convened a conference call.

Almost every available board member joined, including President Neo, who was suddenly called back.

This wasn’t overreaction. Sometimes, figures like the mayor and governor can’t openly express their positions. They keep their stance vague and subtle, making possible concessions without appearing weak. Their aides then play a crucial role. The governor’s aide’s words had been clearly interpreted—and this was bad news for Liston.

As a publicly traded company, they knew the close and elusive link between government attitudes and stock prices.

If these issues weren’t resolved before Monday’s market opened, Liston’s stock would likely plummet.

Just as the mayor initially thought, talking morality, ethics, social responsibility, and rules to a giant like Liston meant nothing—they feign ignorance and only chase profit.

As long as profit is enticing enough, violating ethics or breaking laws won’t stop them.

Only when they start hurting—when their wealth shrinks—will they consider talking like decent people.

“Who’s in charge of the policy office now?”

Just as the call began and before President Neo could host with his well-known magnetic voice, a sudden voice startled everyone: it was Liston’s board chairman, the elderly Alben Liston. The company had actually been founded by his grandfather.

Over the years, what was once a small family business had become a large group under Alben and his father’s management.

Strictly speaking, the company no longer belonged to them, but their wealth had multiplied many times over since then.

Alben rarely involved himself in daily affairs. His immediate question about the policy office signaled he was trying to ease pressure on President Neo—who was his son-in-law.

Every large company has a policy research office—though the name may differ. Its job is to identify government policies beneficial or risky to the company, create opportunities, or push the state legislature to reconsider certain laws.

This is one of the key differences between small and large companies. Many small companies don’t realize how helpful it is to actively monitor policies.

For example, there’s a state policy encouraging factories or enterprises to establish vocational training schools. Training a certain number of students can earn tax breaks and subsidies.

Many don’t know this policy or think it irrelevant. But a giant like Liston sets up training rooms in every factory where workers receive guided training vacations. They avoid intense assembly-line stress while being coached, and the company gains tax breaks and education subsidies worth thousands to tens of thousands.

Don’t underestimate these policies. Dozens of factories combined bring Liston tens of thousands in pure profit annually through these savings.

Such policies are just one example among many, requiring dedicated people to track government policy trends. The tax savings and subsidies amount to a staggering sum each year.

The chairman’s interruption of Neo’s expected opening remarks and immediate delegation to the policy office made everyone aware of what was coming next.

Neo quickly explained, “Chairman, the policy office’s consultants don’t have board meeting rights…” These were political advisers like Ferrelli, without shares or meeting privileges.

“Is that so?” The chairman’s voice was tinged with feigned surprise. “Sorry, I’m getting old. With tonight’s events, our consultant failed to warn us in time. I’m very dissatisfied with his work.”

Everyone knew the truth: if Neo hadn’t taken a hard stance that forced the mayor and governor’s involvement, things wouldn’t have escalated to this point.

This was bad news for Liston. Problems escalating like this weren’t simple. Neo’s and the mayor’s refusal to compromise stemmed from internal power struggles.

Some doubted Neo’s suitability as president. They believed Alben monopolized the chairman role, and having Neo as president would let this father-in-law and son-in-law duo control Liston, which actually belonged to all investors.

Since going public, Liston belonged to shareholders, including Alben and Neo, who held trust and their positions by their confidence.

Group growth had slowed for years, frustrating shareholders. The collapse of EverBright Group, a close partner, dragged down some of Liston’s business and assets.

Some board members proposed acquiring much of EverBright’s legacy to compensate for the group’s lost assets and complete a company transformation.

This idea was sound but was pushed by a major shareholder—neither Neo nor Alben.

In capital, there is no loyalty. That shareholder planned to oust the father-in-law and son-in-law, forcing Neo to be tough or risk being voted out.

Meanwhile, Neo’s conflict with the mayor weakened his maneuverability inside the group. If he won, the struggle would be forgotten; if he lost, the group needed a scapegoat to appease Progressive Party politicians. A current president is always better than a former one.

Under intense pressure, Neo and Alben gambled everything. They originally planned to use the Conservative Party to promote competition between parties for victory, but the Progressive Party showed no signs of compromise, endangering their plan.

Pausing briefly, Neo didn’t dodge the issue. He apologized to the board for his plan disrupting the group’s strategy and stability, taking full responsibility.

Then he shifted to the current situation.

“From other channels, I’ve learned that even if we bow out—if I resign and apologize sincerely to the mayor, governor, and others—our situation won’t improve.”

“Since two years ago, our financial reports have shown no real progress. To outsiders, operations look normal, but…” Neo sighed deeply, “I must apologize again. For my benefit, I caused the finance department to falsify reports…”

Suddenly, sounds of cups smashing, chairs overturning, things thrown on the floor, and curses burst from the call.

Amid the chaos, two barely audible chuckles came from Chairman Alben and President Neo.