The Billionaire's Multiplier System
Chapter 107 - 108: Threads of Loyalty – Reshaping from Within

Chapter 107: Chapter 108: Threads of Loyalty – Reshaping from Within

The sky over Beijing was a dull canvas of overcast grey, heavy with the weight of the coming storm — political and otherwise. Lin Feng stood by the panoramic glass windows of the Apex Council’s private floor, arms crossed, watching the city pulse below. Behind him, a quiet hum of voices and keystrokes signaled the shifting energy within the newly reshuffled war room. Today wasn’t about confrontation — not overtly. It was about recalibration.

"Status update," Lin said without turning.

Chen Ke’s voice responded instantly from behind, clipped and sharp, "Legal cleanup is proceeding smoothly. The dummy firms Cassandra embedded within our lower procurement chains are being unwound one by one. We’ve isolated three more procurement officers who were on her silent payroll."

"Good. Keep it discreet," Lin replied.

He turned slowly. The inner circle in the room — a mix of familiar faces and new — represented the next wave of what he had envisioned: a generation of founder-type minds that didn’t bow to legacy, only capability. Sun Yuhan, formerly an independent blockchain startup CEO, was now leading cybersecurity. Meng Qi, a former competitor turned ally, now oversaw financial due diligence across the Council’s holdings.

"Cassandra’s angle was elegance," Lin said, walking to the center table. "Ours will be acceleration. Not brute force. Velocity of trust, clarity, and adaptability. Every shadow she plants, we’ll dissolve with light and momentum."

The table displayed a live mind-map of Apex assets — nodes flashing red indicated departments or affiliates with potential breaches or influence leakages. The crimson spiderweb was thinning, thanks to weeks of quiet rooting.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

"Li Ruoxi has volunteered to probe Cassandra’s art investment arm," Ke added. "She says there are overlaps with a group she encountered in Vienna three years ago — collectors that funded soft-power manipulation through gallery networks."

Lin arched a brow. That was the kind of ripple he had hoped would surface. Cassandra’s elegance might have charmed investors and co-founders in the west, but her tendrils relied on a very specific formula: beauty, subversion, and leverage built through whispered intimacy.

"I’ll meet Ruoxi at the private gallery tonight," Lin said. "Put two scouts on the perimeter, no overt guards."

His mind was already moving elsewhere.

Beneath the current restructuring lay something more critical: a loyalty realignment. Talent could be bought. Skill could be trained. But loyalty? That had to be earned — or tested. And Cassandra had just handed him the perfect excuse to conduct one such test.

He turned toward Sun Yuhan. "Yuhan, I want you to assemble a shadow board — a think tank made up of second-tier directors who’ve never been given a real voice. People who are loyal, ignored, and underutilized."

Sun blinked. "You want to run a parallel board inside Apex?"

"I want to cultivate a future board. The legacy players think they’re irreplaceable. Let’s remind them otherwise."

Just then, Tang Wei entered the room, brushing off rain droplets from his blazer. He was one of Lin’s few holdover allies from the early Tiansheng days — shrewd, politically neutral, and increasingly observant of Cassandra’s orbit.

"She’s been meeting with someone from the Dutch consulate. Twice this week," Tang said without needing to explain further.

Lin’s jaw tensed. "Commerce or culture?"

Tang tossed a file onto the table. "Officially, a ’sustainable design exchange.’ Unofficially, it’s a think-tank feeding policy suggestions directly into two EU subcommittees."

"Soft-diplomacy laundering," Meng Qi muttered. "Classic move."

It was precisely what Lin feared — Cassandra wasn’t just subverting Apex from the inside. She was positioning herself as a bridgehead for broader influence — creating credibility in the West while embedding leverage in China.

Lin exhaled. "We’ll need to fracture that trust chain. Not destroy it — fracture it. I want you to identify three up-and-coming Chinese designers who’ve been overlooked by those Western think-tanks. Fund them. Elevate them. Then position them as the voice of ethical innovation."

"Cassandra won’t take that lightly," Tang warned.

"She shouldn’t."

—

That evening, Lin arrived at the gallery — a converted Qing-era mansion now housing oil paintings with brush strokes too deliberate to be pure.

Li Ruoxi was already there, dressed in crimson velvet, blending in yet radiating unmistakable intent.

"She funded two of these exhibitions anonymously," she said without preamble. "The gallery owner was sloppy — used the same offshore account linked to an art-tech incubator she chairs in Berlin."

Lin followed her gaze toward a centerpiece — a portrait of a faceless woman, her mouth sewn shut with silver thread.

"Message?" he asked.

Ruoxi’s lips twitched. "Warning."

They circled the room slowly. Outside, discreet operatives scanned foot traffic. Lin’s mind was quieter than usual — a rarity in weeks like these. He watched Ruoxi, not the art. She was one of the few who hadn’t been swayed or repelled by Cassandra’s presence. Instead, she studied her.

"Why do you think she’s pushing so hard?" Lin asked quietly. "This isn’t just business."

Ruoxi paused in front of a piece titled Velvet Guillotine. Her voice was soft. "Because she sees you as the last threat she can’t seduce. You represent a system she can’t predict. You don’t desire the things she weaponizes."

That struck something deep.

Lin turned to her. "And you?"

Ruoxi smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "I chose to play the game beside you. That means I’ve already made peace with not trying to change you."

They left the gallery together — not as lovers, but as aligned tacticians in a war most didn’t know was being fought.

—

Two days later, the first trial run of the "Future Board" launched. Sun Yuhan handpicked nine young innovators — not all polished, but all hungry. They operated in a sealed simulation of Apex decision-making, evaluating mock crises and proposing live solutions.

Lin observed from behind tinted glass, alongside Meng Qi.

"They’re faster," Meng said. "Less bound by fear. One of them suggested dissolving three underperforming subsidiaries that legacy board members have been propping up for years."

Lin’s eyes narrowed. "We’ll leak that suggestion anonymously. Let’s see how Cassandra’s faction reacts."

It was more than a chess match now. It was a culture war within an empire.

—

At the heart of it all, Lin continued his silent tally — watching which allies bent subtly toward Cassandra’s charms, which ones hardened against them, and which ones disappeared into ambiguity.

The system had remained quiet for days, occasionally releasing minor benefits as the girls around him shifted in mood and proximity — but he didn’t chase those gains now. Not yet. The bigger payoff was still loading.

The money would come. The influence would solidify. But loyalty? That was the true currency being minted — forged in small meetings, off-hand glances, and late-night confessions that had nothing to do with power and everything to do with trust.

And for the first time, Lin Feng knew this next battle wasn’t just about blocking an external invader.

It was about re-forging the entire shape of his empire — with or without her in it.