The Billionaire's Multiplier System
Chapter 101 - 102 – Fault Lines Beneath Glass

Chapter 101: Chapter 102 – Fault Lines Beneath Glass

Lin Feng leaned back in the executive chair of his new Apex Council office, a sleek glass-paneled hub nestled deep within Huating’s central innovation district. From this altitude, the city sprawled beneath him like a slow, breathing creature—one he was learning to tame, but never trust.

Across from him sat Jian Xianyu, her arms crossed, eyes intense.

"The press conference was a hit," she said. "Momentum’s on our side—for now."

Lin nodded. "For now. Zixuan’s too quiet. I doubt he’s nursing wounds."

She hesitated, then spoke bluntly, "You think he’ll use the media?"

Lin turned back toward the window. "He has to. His traditional levers aren’t working. He needs to redefine the narrative."

And that was the danger. In a world increasingly ruled by headlines, truth didn’t matter—only the loudest echo.

---

By mid-morning, his prediction bore fruit.

A coordinated series of articles erupted across several news platforms. Headlines read:

"Apex Council’s Shadow Money: Who Funds Lin Feng?"

"Lin Feng’s Rise Tied to Questionable Female-Linked Ventures?"

"Apex Council or Private Harem Club?"

The framing was subtle enough to avoid legal action but piercing enough to wound. Pictures of Lin with Xu Shuang, Lu Yuhan, and even a long-range snap of him at a café with Yu Xiqing flooded the sidebars.

A targeted PR strike—not for the courts, but for public erosion.

Jian Xianyu forwarded him a list of online influencers amplifying the smear. At least thirty bots had been traced to international IPs, many untraceable—Spectron’s ghost trails.

"We can’t silence them without looking guilty," she said.

Lin Feng rubbed his temples. "No. But we can redirect."

"How?"

"By letting the council speak for itself."

---

Two hours later, Lin met with the full Apex Council for the first time in their newly rented summit space—neutral territory, leased under a shell entity to avoid sabotage.

Eleven seats were filled. Corporate heirs, visionaries, controversial thinkers. All drawn to Lin Feng’s vision of a decentralised, civic-first platform combining capital with competence. At its heart: meritocracy. At its edge: controlled unpredictability.

Zhao Menghan sat beside him, radiating quiet elegance with veiled calculation. She was fast becoming one of the council’s most influential economic voices. Across from her, Liu Mingxuan from Yunhua Biotech leaned forward, speaking first.

"This media backlash—it’s not going to stop."

"It’s not supposed to," Lin said evenly. "They want us to collapse under perception."

A woman in a sharp navy blazer raised an eyebrow. Qin Xue’s voice was calm. "Then we must turn perception into our weapon."

That earned a few nods. Qin Xue had become something of a polarising figure—her loyalty to Lin clear, but her methods sometimes bordering ruthlessness.

Lin met her gaze. "We push forward. Announce the Council’s first joint initiative. One that benefits Huating directly."

Jian Xianyu interjected, "We have three shortlisted proposals: A citywide AI-led traffic optimisation pilot, a mental health mobile program, and a startup incubation fund in the underdeveloped east quadrant."

Lin looked at the board. "We do all three. Simultaneously."

Silence.

Zhao Menghan frowned slightly. "You want a triple rollout?"

"Yes," Lin replied. "If we stagger, they’ll dismantle each before it launches. We overwhelm their narrative with undeniable impact."

A smirk flickered across Qin Xue’s lips. "You want to run a media blitzkrieg."

"No. I want to build so fast they can’t discredit what we’ve already delivered."

---

The next two weeks passed in a controlled storm.

Zhao Menghan brokered agreements with regional transportation firms. Lin leveraged his quiet equity positions—acquired through female-connected ventures—to open startup zones in districts that had long been economically stagnant. Lu Yuhan coordinated with several university mental health departments to offer a hybrid app-therapy service under Apex’s branding.

And it worked.

Public sentiment shifted gradually, if not completely. Even sceptics began questioning if Lin Feng’s council, for all its murky composition, was genuinely more effective than existing structures.

But not everyone was pleased.

---

Yu Xiqing paced back and forth on the rooftop of her studio, the city lights casting a fractured glow on her face. She’d stayed quiet, public-facing support limited. Not out of hesitation—but calculation.

Now, watching her name being dragged into trending posts, she realised her passive stance had made her vulnerable.

Lin Feng visited her that night, unannounced.

"I didn’t want to involve you like this," he said quietly.

She didn’t speak for a moment, then turned toward him. "I’m not a child. I chose this. But if I’m going to be collateral, then use me properly."

He blinked. "What?"

"I’ll endorse Apex. Officially. One piece. My words. My control."

Lin looked at her carefully. "That’ll put a target on your back."

She smiled. "There already is one. Might as well make the shot worth it."

---

Meanwhile, Zixuan struck again—but this time, not in headlines.

A major construction conglomerate, long thought neutral, abruptly pulled out of its Apex infrastructure partnership, citing "scheduling concerns." Within days, two more medium-tier investors withdrew from the startup incubator pool.

No legal explanation. Just pressure. Coordinated. Invisible.

Lin investigated—and found the signature of an old adversary: Mu Yuchen.

Once humiliated by Lin’s moves during the early Spectron exposure, Mu Yuchen had quietly returned to corporate circles, building new alliances. Zixuan had likely tapped him to apply pressure from the business side while the media barrage continued.

In a secure call, Lin confronted him.

"You working for him now?"

Mu Yuchen’s voice was smooth. "I’m working with whoever values stability. You’re the chaos factor, Lin Feng. You should understand how tiring that gets."

"You think Zixuan offers stability?"

"He offers control."

Lin exhaled. "You’ll regret this."

"Maybe. But not yet."

The call ended with no threats—just a quiet declaration of sides.

---

That night, Lin returned home and found Lu Yuhan waiting with two glasses of wine.

"You can’t do this alone," she said softly. "Even with the Council."

"I know," he admitted.

She handed him a glass. "Then stop pretending you have to."

The apartment fell into silence, not of absence but quiet understanding. The kind that grows between people who have walked through fire together.

And then, just as he relaxed into the moment—his phone buzzed.

A message from Jian Xianyu.

"New player incoming. Foreign venture group linked to Zixuan just registered a joint office in Huating. Lead: Cassandra Virelli."

Lin froze.

Cassandra Virelli was no ordinary name. She was a known operator for offshore influence—part socialite, part economic tactician, part seductress. Her specialty was co-opting internal rivals using charm, money, and divide-and-conquer tactics.

Zixuan had just called in the next wave.

Lu Yuhan leaned over, reading the screen. "Who’s she?"

Lin’s expression darkened. "A mirror of myself. But built for destruction."

---

In the days that followed, Cassandra wasted no time. Her presence was explosive. Attending charity galas, posing for magazine interviews, launching a "Global Youth Innovation Grant" that positioned her as a partner, not enemy, of civic growth. Her charm was precise, her words crafted to seem supportive—even of Lin’s Apex Council—while introducing subtle contrasts.

"She’s siphoning off the outer ring," Jian Xianyu muttered during a council strategy meeting. "Secondary members are already meeting with her people."

"She’s targeting cracks," Zhao Menghan added. "Frustrated members. Those who feel unseen."

Lin leaned forward, eyes burning. "Then let’s show them what unity looks like. Prepare a council-exclusive summit. No media. No outsiders. Every member present. We clarify goals. We reinforce loyalty."

Qin Xue raised an eyebrow. "And if they walk?"

Lin stood. "Then they were never with us."

---

The Chapter closes not in crescendo, but with quiet promise. The summit looms. Cassandra watches from across the city with a glass of red in hand. Zixuan smiles behind a wall of proxies.

But Lin Feng?

He prepares not to defend—but to strike.

The game was no longer about surviving backlash.

It was about conquering perception.

And beyond it—rewriting power itself.