The Billionaire's Multiplier System
Chapter 102 - 103: Fractures Beneath the Summit

Chapter 102: Chapter 103: Fractures Beneath the Summit

The Apex Council Summit is convened inside the glass-paneled Hall of Nations, its steel frames towering over the evening skyline like the bones of a new order. Lin Feng stood silently by the open terrace, watching the dusky orange sun descend behind rows of corporate banners fluttering with ambition. A quiet pride stirred in his chest, but it was tempered by wariness. He knew too well that the true war wasn’t fought in boardrooms or on social media, but in whispered conversations and unspoken alliances.

Inside, in representatives of twenty-eight member coalitions murmured among themselves, the air rich with the scent of aged oak and the tension of unspoken agendas. Lin Feng, now recognized as the de facto anchor of the council, stepped forward. His arrival silenced the room without need for gesture.

"We begin tonight not with speeches, but with purpose," Lin said. "Our collective future depends on more than just mutual interest. It depends on mutual leverage."

He gestured subtly toward a digital map projected across the far wall—highlighting red zones of media monopolies, blue zones of tech dominance, and grey voids where resistance still thrived. As he walked the delegates through the Apex Council’s next offensive—shifting influence from reaction to strategy—he noted the faces. Chen Guowei looked attentive, nodding at each data point. Arjun from EastBridge Holdings leaned forward, calculating.

But it was Cassandra Wren who concerned with him.

She sat demurely with legs crossed, fingers lightly tracing the edge of her wine glass. Her smile was as poised as a dancer’s bow, but her eyes—they moved too often, tracking not the map but the people reacting to it. She was listening to more than just the plan. She was listening to fault lines.

Later, as the summit is transitioned into the evening banquet, Lin retreated to the balcony again. Gu Yuwei found him there, her presence announced only by the faint rustle of silk.

"You said you’d control the summit," she said, leaning beside him. "But half these people still report back to their own power blocs. Some of them to Zixuan."

"I don’t need their loyalty. Just their is necessity," Lin replied. "And I’m counting on Cassandra to accelerate the sorting."

Gu Yuwei gave him a sharp look. "You want her to dig?"

"I want her to choose a side. If she overplays her hand, the ones she’s subverting will come to me themselves."

"And if she’s better than that?"

Lin didn’t answer.

Inside the banquet hall, Cassandra moved with calculated elegance. Her laughter at Chen Guowei’s jokes was effortless, her compliments to Arjun disarmingly precise. She slipped between conversations like a dancer weaving through a masquerade, leaving only hints of her presence.

It was at the drink station that she cornered Li Yanzhou, a junior representative from the Hubei Industrial Bloc, young and still unsure in his standing.

"They listen to Lin because he makes them feel decisive," she murmured, brushing past him to refill her glass. "But decisive men are often blind to nuance."

Li blinked. "You think he’s wrong?"

She turned slightly, a smile playing on her lips. "I think he’s focused. Too focused. Enough to miss what the rest of us notice. But perhaps that’s a gap worth filling."

She didn’t need to say more. The seed was planted.

Meanwhile, inside a more private lounge adjacent to the main hall, Lin met with three of the newer council members: Tao Anli from the Jade Education Initiative, Hamza Latif from Northlight Trade Group, and Jeong Minho from the Pacific Legal Circle.

"You asked us for early data on public perception shifts," Tao said, handing him a tablet. "Northlight’s trade movement across eastern ports has picked up momentum—your campaign against Spectron is showing ripple effects."

Lin studied the data. Search trends were up. Discontent was growing. Influence was spreading beyond first-tier cities.

"Keep the narrative clean," he said. "Make it about decentralization. About giving people a stake, not taking sides."

Jeong nodded. "But you do know the backlash will come. The central authority won’t ignore your momentum for long."

"Let them come," Lin said. "We’re not defenseless."

At the summit’s midnight session, the Council moved to vote on a controversial proposal: creating an independent data verification wing to publicly counter government narratives.

Most supported it. Some abstained. But three opposed: Zhen Holdings, Meridian Media, and Blackwell Capital. All of them had ties—oblique, but traceable—to the very influence blocs Lin fought against.

Cassandra didn’t vote. She claimed abstention but had already spent the last hour quietly nudging two of the abstaining members toward discomfort with Lin’s transparency-driven approach.

After the vote, Lin stood alone in the lower lobby, staring at a blank marble wall.

Xia Qiao approached, arms folded. "She’s turning heads."

"Let her."

"If she fractures the inner council, it won’t matter how good your proposals are."

Lin turned to face her fully. "She won’t fracture the council. She’ll reveal who never belonged to it."

In the final hour of the summit, Cassandra joined Lin at the rooftop garden—the highest point of the tower, where the stars bled through the light fog like the last truths in a fog of war.

"Impressive gathering," she said, sipping chilled wine. "But you know what they say. The tighter the circle, the easier it is to break."

Lin glanced at her. "Circles don’t break. They bend."

"Unless someone puts a wedge."

"You’re trying?"

"I’m curious," she said. "You build consensus through strategy. But strategy can turn. What happens when those who follow you realize they can outpace you?"

"They won’t."

"Confident."

"Mathematic. I built this with that in mind. The faster they run, the more they anchor my momentum."

She smirked. "Clever. But remember, Lin Feng, not all wedges are blunt. Some are whispered."

He let her walk away first.

As the stars pulsed cold above the rising mist, Lin breathed in the weight of his position. The summit had closed. The votes tallied. The maps adjusted.

But the real moves, as always, were only just beginning.

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