He scratched his head and asked, "Mr. Beck, could you recommend one?"
Old Beck smiled slightly, with a hint of confidence in his tone, "JP Morgan, it's a well-established brand, very powerful, and well-connected.
Their senior butler service is excellent, capable of handling anything for you. Travel, banquets, private jets, investment and financial management...
Even smuggling, lobbying, legal evasion, bribery, and catering to your unique interests and those shady dealings that can't see the light of day.
These large commercial banks are extremely arrogant on normal days, but only money can make them kneel.
With over a hundred million dollars in deposits, they'll get on their knees and lick your shoes;
With a billion dollars in deposits, they'll surrender their wives and bedrooms to you;
With ten billion dollars in deposits, they're your slaves, and you can manipulate their souls at will.
You now control more than 1.5 billion dollars in assets, which has already granted you a ticket to the upper echelons of this world.
Banks are the guides teaching you how to use this ticket. No matter what disaster happens, you have the priority to board Noah's Ark."
JP Morgan, the Pure Yellow Banner of the United States.
Zhou Qingfeng nodded in agreement. This was not just out of trust in Old Beck, but also as a favor to him.
After all, with just a word, Old Beck decided the flow of 1.5 billion dollars, which in itself is a form of power.
A call later, half an hour later, another helicopter roared down onto the building's rooftop.
A senior affairs specialist from JP Morgan's Miami office, along with her assistant, appeared in front of Zhou Qingfeng, stepping in high heels with a crisp sound.
The leading woman, tall and in her thirties, exuded elegance, her stride quick and powerful, seemingly formidable.
Black leather shoes, paired with nude stockings, a knee-length pencil skirt, a blazer, and a collared white shirt, the whole person exuding the aura of a strongwoman.
Her gaze swept the room and quickly locked onto Zhou Qingfeng. She swiftly approached, extending her hand solemnly and seriously, saying:
"Sorry, Victor, I'm late. My name is Kelly Johnson, Senior Affairs Specialist at JP Morgan in Florida.
From today onwards, I will be your servant, at your beck and call.
Legal, illegal, conventional, unconventional, imaginable, unimaginable, I'll do my best to meet all your demands."
The woman's hand was firm, not the delicate fragility of a flower. Her face wasn't particularly soft, rather it carried a certain masculine resilience.
At the moment of the handshake, Zhou Qingfeng felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction - capitalism truly has its way of disciplining people.
A mature, strong, professional female elite, speaking in the most humble manner with the hardest stance, just because he was rich, especially rich.
Old Beck laughed and interjected, "Victor, you just earned me a hundred thousand dollars in lobbying fees with ease.
JP Morgan's information is very well-informed. They identified your identity the moment it was exposed.
Before the FBI could find you, they already started evaluating you.
Upon confirming I would be your proxy lawyer, JP Morgan's executives called my cellphone.
I told JP Morgan's supervisor that you were too young, needed guidance, rebellious but open to different opinions, and unfamiliar with the United States as a foreigner.
They immediately created a client profile and psychological analysis for you, determining that an experienced mature woman would be best suited to stay by your side.
I bet they must have dug up all your information in the shortest time, including browsing records from adult sites, and selected Kelly based on your preferences.
Until your assets drop to below a billion dollars, Kelly will be entirely at your command as your maid.
She has dual degrees in law and accounting from Yale, and has worked in investment banks and law firms for over a decade. She knows both the light and dark sides of the industry inside out.
You don't need to care about her dignity, just give her orders.
Even if it's getting into bed and having kids, it's within her consideration. Of course, additional services require extra payment, and the fees are not cheap."
After hearing this, Zhou Qingfeng felt both shocked and somewhat amused - the power of money could so thoroughly change a person's identity and status.
Just a few hours ago, he was penniless and unknown. Now, even without yet receiving the money, he was already a significant tycoon.
Kelly was the typical American mature woman, about 1.7 meters tall, with a broad frame, large chest, and round hips, her face cold and proud, yet her every move exuding an air of ready-to-please attitude.
At this moment, she was presenting herself as a "maid," ready to serve him at any time. The contrast gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.
It seemed to be proof of the power of money - no matter how strong a woman, she could become soft and obedient in the face of wealth.
Zhou Qingfeng was pleased with Kelly's appearance, he asked Old Beck beside him in a low voice, "Do all rich people play this way?"
Old Beck shrugged, with a tone of mockery and deep meaning, "Kid, you haven't witnessed the true luxury, corruption, arrogance, and stupidity of the real privileged yet.
Or maybe you don't yet know how much power tens of billions in cash can bring?
Running for President of the United States costs about a hundred billion. Sending over a woman completely obedient to you is nothing? It's too normal."
Kelly listened quietly to this conversation, her face always maintaining a professional calm, as if these words had nothing to do with her.
The few professional elites present also didn't show any surprise or opposition; some even nodded slightly, expressing agreement, and some even wished they could replace Kelly.