Chapter Twelve: Wear You Down to the Very End

William White couldn’t understand it either—at a time like this, how could these bastards have the leisure to fuss over such trivial matters? They were holding the trump card, so why not play it outright and blow everyone else away? What was the point of dithering with single cards?

Meanwhile, the minority shareholders were conflicted. William White’s offer was clearly better, but everyone knew the risks were enormous.

As for the Hunter family, they were no saints either. Things were already tough for everyone, yet they insisted on suppressing the stock price.

Taking advantage of others’ misfortune to seize even more—there was something truly shameless about it. If only their shamelessness came with some generosity, but no, they were stingy as well.

Did they really think they could have it all to themselves?

Nothing comes that easily. Since the White family had put in a bid too, everyone could just take their time and negotiate. The Hunters only held 15% of the shares, not enough to gain control, let alone outright ownership. Even if they did manage to take over, they’d still have to contend with the regulators, which was far from easy.

While all this wrangling was going on, William White’s new book hit the shelves. As a newcomer, it was impossible for him to become an overnight sensation—that only happened in fanciful online novels. Selling a few hundred copies a day was considered decent. Only established authors could move several thousand copies, and there were very few who could sell tens of thousands on release day.

Although it didn’t become an instant blockbuster, the book earned rave reviews. Readers were left wondering who this mysterious author could be—why had no one heard of him before?

Who, exactly, was William White?

Could this really be his first book?

Absolutely not—no one could write with such power without decades of life experience. He had to be an established writer using a pseudonym.

Americans have excellent reading habits, and it’s perfectly normal to pick up a book whenever they have the time. Since people’s tastes vary, they rarely recommend books to friends unprompted.

Forrest Gump was different. Everyone who read it couldn’t resist recommending it to their friends. They found that, without sharing and discussing it, there was no way to calm the stirrings the novel left in their hearts.

And so, a book by an unknown author began with slow sales but steadily gained traction.

The Academic Press hadn’t worried about the sales at all. In fact, they hadn’t even started their promotional efforts. This was at the author’s request—the current marketing plan was entirely his design. Although they didn’t quite understand it, they were determined to follow it to the letter.

Ultimately, a publishing house is a service industry. Meeting the client’s needs is their goal. In a sense, this was publishing in its truest form.

This novel was a true exercise in viral marketing. Through word of mouth among readers, it started to catch fire.

Compared to the big-name authors, its sales were only just passable. But never underestimate the power of viral marketing—its explosive potential is fierce. As time went on, the book’s popularity only grew.

Some readers have this mindset: when they discover a great book that no one seems to notice, and the author isn’t famous, they are quick to become its champion.

At this stage, the publisher felt bewildered. They knew the book would sell, given its quality, but for it to become a quiet bestseller in this way was highly unusual.

Moreover, they kept being criticized by readers.

“How could you not promote such a good book? I seriously doubt your professionalism.”

The publisher could only weep at such accusations. They couldn’t explain that this was the billionaire author’s decision, and they had no power to change it.

Of course, much of this indignation was probably just posturing. As long as the book sold, it didn’t matter how it happened. A few complaints wouldn’t do them any harm.

William White holed up in New York—it was the financial center, after all. He was unlikely to find a suitable bank in Texas, while New York offered far more opportunities.

Despite repeated rejections, William White didn’t lose heart. Every day, he and his butler visited various banks.

Naturally, the Hunter family was watching closely. To them, his efforts were futile, and they couldn’t understand why their opponent wouldn’t just surrender.

That’s how banks are—don’t expect them to help you when you’re down. They prefer to build on success, and they won’t hesitate to kick you when you’re already on the ground.

After a busy week, with visits to over twenty banks, William White still hadn’t gained any support.

Clearly, the banks weren’t optimistic about his chances—or perhaps someone was actively working against him.

Everyone seemed to favor the rising Hunter family. William White’s actions looked more like a desperate struggle to them.

“Boss, that White kid keeps running to the banks. He doesn’t seem to be letting up,” said a slightly balding, overweight man, scratching his head indifferently.

“He’s just a fool. Which bank would risk angering the Hunters? Still, I have to admire his persistence.”

“What should we do, boss?”

“Tsk, it’s a tough call. Arrange a meeting with them.”

“Yes, boss.”

Their only real concern was the government. William White’s actions truly infuriated them.

“A meeting with us?”

“Fine, accept.”

“What do you want to discuss with them, sir?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why go?”

“I’m not going. I just want to stand them up. As for a reason, tell them I’m in a bad mood and it’s inconvenient.”

Butler Fu was speechless. Standing someone up so blatantly was a direct insult. Not that the other side was any better, but this was going a bit far.

The arrogant old man was stood up, and there was no need to describe his fury.

None of these people were saints, but Americans placed great importance on etiquette. William White’s behavior was a clear declaration of hostilities.

His objective was simple: to infuriate the old man. Once he’d acquired enough stock, he would immediately apply for government receivership.

While William White lounged in his villa at ease, the Hunter patriarch was fuming. To be humiliated by a young upstart was a bitter pill to swallow.

Now, the lines were clearly drawn. The old man’s frustration was palpable.

Sometimes, anger clouds judgment. Amidst the turmoil of the capital markets, William White paid no mind. Visiting two banks a day had become his routine.

“Butler Fu, apply for a trading halt and sue them for securities fraud.”

“Sir, what about evidence?”

“They hold more shares than they’ve disclosed—that misleads smaller shareholders. Take the Wall Street Journal to court as well, for spreading false information.”

“Sir, I’m afraid we can’t win. We lack evidence.”

“That doesn’t matter. My goal is to buy time. As long as the court accepts the case, that’s enough.”

The Hunter family was riding high when suddenly the situation changed—the other side had chosen to sue, applying for a trading halt and government receivership at the same time.

In just seven days, they’d accumulated 25% of the shares. According to their plan, in another two weeks, they’d be the largest shareholder.

The old man was still dissatisfied—he didn’t want any surprises at the board meeting. Only 50% ownership would guarantee that.

What he hadn’t expected was that the other side was even more decisive—walking away without a hint of resistance.

A change in the company’s controlling party was sufficient grounds to apply for a trading halt. The securities fraud charge was laughable; using different accounts to acquire shares was standard practice.

The key issue was that William White had no way to stop the Hunters, but the government had plenty of methods.

Multiple accounts? Well then, let’s check if all taxes have been paid. And while we’re at it, let’s take a look at the source of the funds.