"Mr. Lynch, please come with me!"

After some brief pleasantries, Carl led Lynch toward the elevator. This wasn't the place to discuss serious matters, but it was suitable for other conversations.

"When Jogriman called me, I was really shocked. I didn't expect that in such a remote place he could be fortunate enough to meet a big figure like you. He's truly an enviable fellow!"

Carl even talked about the art of speaking and its importance, flattering Jogriman while placing Lynch on a higher pedestal. This indirect flattery wasn't so blatant and wasn't too off-putting.

"Mr. Jogriman is an interesting person. He helped me a lot when my career started." As they walked to the elevator doors, the elevator doors opened.

A blonde elevator attendant, smiling, was already inside, ready to serve the two gentlemen.

Inside the elevator, the attendant had her back turned to Lynch and Carl. It was uncertain whether intentionally or not, her skirt seemed a half size too small, not only looking tight but visibly showing traces of what she wore underneath.

Sometimes such traces might appear unattractive or improper, but at other times they become quite special.

The two men's gazes lingered briefly on the worker's skirt before they retracted them. Elevator attendants could only be found in places like this; they didn't exist in small locales, making them quite a striking feature.

"...while we stubbornly decorate our shelves with eighty-dollar plaster vases and one-dollar glass vases, those capitalists have already turned our girls into vases. This is a shameless society..."

The above words are from a sociologist's book, which didn't sell well, but what he said is thought-provoking.

The elevator didn't stop because it didn't serve ordinary people, and ordinary people weren't qualified to ride such an elevator. Although there was an elevator on the other side of the hall equipped with some physically disabled staff, a vast gap existed between the two.

Lynch wasn't aware that, in the bank, from the lowest level cleaners to mid-level management, riding this elevator was a source of pride. Taking this elevator meant they received an audience with the bank's top management.

The elevator stopped on the ninth floor, and the young, pretty girl smiled as she actively stepped out and bent down outside the elevator.

From Lynch's angle, he could directly see through her neckline the red dress she wore today, though she seemed completely unaware.

As they left the elevator, the doors slowly closed, and Carl invited Lynch to follow him to his office. While walking, Carl chuckled and said, "Just over five hundred bucks, quite a bargain, right?"

What he referred to was the elevator attendant. Just over five hundred dollars could keep the whole company's middle and upper management in a "cheap thrill" all day long, coupled with the fact she was a pretty girl, making this business deal very worthwhile indeed.

For someone like Carl, the growing feminist movement in society was pure nonsense. He could use money to make most girls kneel, which also reflected the upper tier of society's true attitude in this era.

A kind of arrogance, haughtiness, and an inherently insurmountable gap between them and the lower-middle class attitude, treating those people merely as environmental seasoning necessities rather than equals.

Only those who could make them look squarely are considered people to them.

Carl's office was large, probably over a hundred square meters, with a bar and a pool table. Behind his desk was a door leading to what seemed to be a lounge.

Most of the high-tier offices in the Federation had a lounge, which is one reason why sexual dominance issues were so severe and rampant within large Federation enterprises. They actively provide the management with the necessary environment.

"Sit wherever you wish. Would you like something?" He glanced at his watch. "Maybe something light to drink would be a nice choice..."

It was about two hours past lunch, and thus not the right time for strong liquor, nor was coffee a good option. There was no juice here, so some light liquor became a good proposition.

Lynch nodded as Carl poured him a glass and brought it over, sitting opposite Lynch, "I heard you want a bigger share?" He pushed the glass towards Lynch.

Lynch received it briefly, changed the cup's position slightly, and then nodded, "I took the financing from the exchange last time, but it was too little."

All three major Federation exchanges had bank stations, even their client managers aiming at major stock brokerage firms and institutions, providing comprehensive financial services.

From quick mortgage loans to short-term or overnight lending, offering all kinds of leverage capital; they did anything related to money that could make them earn a bit.

He contacted six banks, and they could only offer an eight to ten-fold leverage, refusing anything higher.

Lynch could understand since he hadn't shown talent in this area, so low leverage was normal.

Banks preferred earning steady, risk-free money rather than money with risk and not negligible risk at that.

Luckily, he passed the first hurdle and could now discuss the second one.

"I heard about the ten-fold leverage. It is really considerable..." Carl didn't show agreement with Lynch's attitude, feeling that ten-fold wasn't a small number.

"Perhaps to outsiders, ten times ten dollars is just a hundred dollars, but Mr. Lynch, we're talking about sums counted in tens of thousands or millions. A million times ten is ten million. The international financial market risk is hard to predict, and we might not have time to force a position closing."

"Unless, you can provide more guarantees."

International financial transactions have a certain time delay, which might only be a few minutes but is enough to sail many from great fortunes to bankruptcy in a brief moment.

Take a simple example: someone who owns a million, then receives a nine million financing, making a total of ten million.

Three minutes ago, he earned ten percent, essentially earning a million with just a million; without financing, he'd need to surpass one hundred percent profit to achieve this.

But with capital leverage, he could take one million home with only ten percent profit.

The same goes, due to transaction delay, in just five minutes, if what he bought fell by five percent, the bank would enforce a position closing to ensure their interests weren't harmed.

Five percent of ten million is fifty thousand, allowing the bank to secure their nine million without loss, and still have fifty thousand profit (according to contract terms).

Should the market fluctuation exceed five percent, even ten percent, say fifteen percent, even if the bank forcibly closes the position immediately, the financer's initial million would vanish, beside owing the bank an additional fifty thousand loss and discussing financing fees, or service charges, or interest, whichever fits.

Higher leverage means greater risk, with banks only tolerating 0.5% risk at a hundred times leverage, and just 0.1% at two hundred times leverage.

If collateral doesn't exist, or no off-screen transactions, why would banks casually offer hundred-fold leverage knowing international futures and foreign exchange market frequently experience around 10% short-term shifts?

Although closing price-wise, based on game theory, an account indeed profits, any fluctuation in this process could lead to mandatory position closing, resulting in bankruptcy.

In Carl's view, a ten-fold financing leverage already put substantial pressure on banks especially in today's economic hardship, coupled with the Federation Government promoting credit loans, making banks reluctant to expend much cash on high-risk financial activities.

If Lynch wanted more leverage, he had to show a guarantee.

If unable to ensure bank interests, Carl could only elevate the ratio slightly to twelve or fifteen-fold, no further.

Lynch was silent for a moment, opened his briefcase, took out a document, placed it on the wide coffee table, and pushed it forward.

Carl didn't open it immediately, but rather scrutinized both the document and Lynch, before reaching slowly to pick it up, asking casually, "What is this?"

"Money!" Lynch took a sip from the glass, "A lot of money!"

Carl couldn't help but laugh at Lynch's words, glancing beyond the document at Lynch, "I hope it is, but first let me have a look..."

Lynch didn't interrupt him further, while Carl examined meticulously, pausing a few times to make calls in the adjoining room, before a group of people appeared, apologizing to Lynch and surrounding the desk to audit the document collectively.

Their expressions looked excited yet tense, as this kind of sure-profit business was their favorite!

Only close to noon, Lynch, having sat there for over an hour, did they reach a conclusion.

"A lot of money!" With a renewed remark, Carl sat across from Lynch, presently asking, "May I inquire how you got this contract?"

Lynch shook his head, "No comment, that's a trade secret. Is it substantial enough?"

Carl hesitated, knowing it was, but he needed to act unsure to facilitate negotiation afterward.

Before he could show such struggle, Lynch interrupted his performance, "We both know its value. If you say 'no' now, I'll go across the street."

Across the street was another formidable bank called Shengrong Bank!

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