great-warnovel Chapter 277 Manhattan in My Memories
Chapter 277 Manhattan in My Memories
(Thanks to "Marco-V-" for the two "Master" certifications! Thanks to "Genius Game Girl Little Death God" for the "Master" certification! An extra chapter today~)
Teterboro Airport, New Jersey, USA. A private terminal for private jets.
In August, the air along the East Coast of the United States is filled with stifling heat and humidity.
Sunlight pierced through the thick clouds, pouring directly onto the wide asphalt tarmac. Waves of heat, distorting the air, rose from the scorching ground.
A row of black, extended, bulletproof limousines were parked in the shadows at the edge of the runway.
Frank stood by the door of the car at the front. He was wearing a dark striped suit and a neatly tied tie.
Wearing a full suit in this weather made him feel a little uncomfortable, but he still behaved meticulously.
One must not be disrespectful in front of one's own deity!
In his right hand he carried a heavy, dark black leather briefcase, stuffed with distressed asset liquidation files that had just been sent by the Restructuring Trust Company (RTC).
Since Satsuki can't get involved in the Middle East situation for the time being, she plans to come to her "hometown" to pick up some scraps.
Affected by the savings and loan crisis (S&L Crisis), the U.S. federal government is facing massive accounting holes left by hundreds of bankrupt banks. Washington urgently needs huge amounts of cash to quell the crisis, so a large number of prime commercial properties in New York City have been packaged up and put on the waiting list for liquidation and sale.
This was precisely Saionji Satsuki's first objective upon arriving in the New World. She planned to use the offshore US dollars she had amassed by shorting the Nikkei index overseas to take advantage of the US government's urgent need for cash to cover its tracks and acquire all these core commercial properties at a low discount.
This was a win-win situation. The United States gained political achievements, and Satsuki gained assets.
A short, sharp, screeching sound of tires rubbing against each other tore through the stifling heat and humidity of the tarmac.
The dark silver "Midnight Ghost" (Gulfstream G4) kicked up a cloud of white dust on the runway as it slowly slowed down. Led by the lead vehicle, the massive fuselage taxied smoothly and finally came to a steady stop in front of the black convoy.
The roar of the turbofan engine gradually weakened, turning into a low-frequency hum.
Frank took two steps forward.
The cabin door slowly opened downwards, and the folding gangway extended to the ground.
Satsuki stepped into the blinding sunlight.
Today she wore a beige, thin, sleeveless dress, the soft fabric draping naturally along her slender figure. A humid breeze blew across the tarmac, causing the light skirt to sway gently, and the black silk ribbon hanging from the raffia wide-brimmed hat Amy had chosen for her head occasionally brushed against her fair neck.
She stood on the gangway, gazing into the distance. A gentle breeze blew by, and she raised her right hand to lightly press down the brim of her hat, which was billowing in the wind. Then, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the air around New York, a mixture of the smell of aviation fuel and the humidity.
Hmm, you still smell as bad as ever, Mr. America.
When she opened her eyes again, her body was relaxed and at ease.
Fujita, carrying a black duffel bag, followed her down the gangway like a silent shadow.
Frank stepped forward to meet him.
"Ms. Saionji, welcome to New York."
Frank bowed slightly, his tone respectful. He took a printed itinerary from the inside pocket of his suit and handed it forward with both hands.
"The senior liquidator for the Restructuring Trust (RTC) arrived in the Manhattan conference room an hour ago. The venue, legal staff, and financial accounting team for the initial round of consultations are all ready. The motorcade can head directly to Wall Street."
Satsuki looked at the schedule Frank handed her.
She didn't reach out to take it.
My gaze shifted downwards, landing on the heavy briefcase Frank was carrying in his other hand.
She slightly curved her eyes into a gentle smile. Then she extended her right hand, gently placing the back of her hand against the edge of the briefcase, smoothly deflecting it.
"Frank, turn your pager off."
Frank's hand, which was handing over the itinerary, froze in mid-air. He looked at his superior, his mind instantly processing the meaning behind the brief instruction.
"Let's not talk about work today."
Satsuki withdrew her hand, her gaze passing over Frank's shoulder and landing on the distant outline of Manhattan's skyscrapers, faintly visible amidst the heatwave.
"Take me to Manhattan."
Since the gods have arranged it this way, there must be a reason for it.
"As you wish."
Frank didn't hesitate. He immediately put away the itinerary and handed it to his left hand along with his briefcase. With his right hand, he opened the rear door of the limousine, placing his right palm upwards against the top edge of the door.
Satsuki lowered her head slightly and sat in the spacious leather back seat.
Frank closed the car door and turned to walk towards the passenger seat.
The convoy drove out of the airport and headed toward the Lincoln Tunnel, which connects New Jersey and Manhattan.
Frank sat in the passenger seat. He turned his head and looked through the rearview mirror to observe the situation in the back seat.
Satsuki seemed to be in a good mood, curiously looking at the scenery outside the window.
That's true, this must be the first time the young lady has seriously explored an American city.
Frank looked at Satsuki's youthful face. Judging by her appearance alone, who would have guessed that she was the head of a multinational oligarch?
Perhaps this is the deceptive power of appearance? The deity must have had her reasons for looking that way.
Frank crossed his arms and nodded slightly.
The convoy exited the tunnel and officially entered the streets of Manhattan.
The street scenes along the way slowly receded past the car window.
The city's tight cash flow, affected by the ongoing savings and loan crisis, is clearly reflected in the streetscape.
Several commercial office buildings, originally planned to be grand, are now at a standstill. The gray concrete frames have just been topped out, but there is no roar of heavy machinery to be heard on the construction site. The yellow tower cranes hang silently in mid-air. The scaffolding and green safety netting around the perimeter are still brand new, but the construction workers who should have been working on them are nowhere to be seen.
On the ground floor of some prime commercial properties in key locations, large glass windows are covered with white, opaque film. Huge banners left by real estate agents proclaiming "For Rent," "Entire Building for Sale," or "Seeking Joint Development" hang on the walls.
Satsuki pressed the control button on the car door, lowering the window halfway.
The city's humid air, mixed with car exhaust and the fried smell of fast food restaurants, instantly filled the car and ruffled the stray hairs around her ears.
She rested her chin on one hand, her elbow against the edge of the car window, observing the dilapidated streetscape with great interest.
Her gaze lingered for a moment in front of a twenty-story commercial building that was sealed off. The brass sign on the building's exterior had been removed, leaving only a few blurry lettering marks on the bare wall.
Frank, sitting in the passenger seat, keenly noticed her gaze. He followed her gaze to the window and quickly recognized the outline of the building.
"This building originally belonged to a long-established trust fund." Frank reached out and tapped the heavy briefcase beside him. "It just so happens to be on this RTC list of bad assets that I brought with me. Along with several other core commercial properties in this neighborhood, they've all been packaged by the authorities into a bad debt package that they're preparing to sell off today."
Frank raised his left hand again and checked the time on his watch.
"Miss, it's 1:45 PM now." Frank reminded everyone of the meeting's progress. "The liquidation team from RTC called fifteen minutes ago to confirm the air conditioning temperature in the conference room. They've already broken down all the asset packages and laid them out on the conference table."
Should we attend the meeting?
Satsuki turned her gaze away from the ruins outside the window.
She pressed the button, and the car window slowly rose, shutting out the noise from the outside world once again.
She leaned back in the soft leather chair, pointing with her right hand at the office building they had just passed.
"Frank".
"Now, the US government urgently needs our dollars to fill the hundreds of billions of dollars in holes left by those bankrupt banks."
"These buildings they're holding onto are generating exorbitant property maintenance and security costs every day, along with pressure from the media and taxpayers. Before the transfer is finalized, those assets are nothing more than a pile of foul-smelling excrement."
She picked up a glass of pure water from the cup holder on the center armrest and held the cool glass.
"We are the ones holding the cash."
"We can stop the hourglass whenever we want."
"This is our privilege."
Satsuki took a small sip of water to moisten her throat.
"They're the ones who should be anxious."
Frank pondered for a moment, then suddenly realized.
So that's how it is! You truly are a deity!
He immediately grasped this clever "psychological warfare tactic of revealing one's hand." In a buyer's market, proactively showing urgency often means losing the initiative to negotiate a lower price at the negotiating table.
Using a casual trip to buy time is more likely to make government bureaucrats burdened with performance targets anxious.
Frank nodded slightly, a knowing glint in his eyes.
"Yes, Miss. I understand."
The convoy continued to drive smoothly through the streets of Manhattan.
The car fell silent.
Satsuki looked out the window at the familiar street layout.
The lush canopy of trees in Central Park appears and disappears in the distance, while pedestrians still come and go on Fifth Avenue.
She recalled her past life working in investment banking on Wall Street.
Back then, she wore dark business suits and high heels every day, moving between the conference rooms of various investment banks. After each successful IPO or M&A deal worth hundreds of millions of dollars, she would always go to that old-established steakhouse to reward her nerves that had been stretched to the limit.
That heavy combination of high-calorie and animal fat carbohydrates was the most effective fuel that sustained her through 100 hours of high-pressure work each week.
Ah, I'm craving that steak now.
However, that was in the 21st century. Is that restaurant open now?
"Go to the intersection of 49th Street and Third Avenue."
Go check it out.
The driver turned the steering wheel. The convoy changed lanes at the next intersection and entered Third Avenue heading north.
The street scene outside the car window receded in the humid breeze. As the vehicle moved forward, the outlines of the buildings on both sides of the street became increasingly familiar to Satsuki.
The vehicle passed 45th Street. The Pan Am Building's iconic, massive octagonal facade came into view. Satsuki looked at the lobby entrance on the ground floor of the building, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the leather seats.
Once, at three in the morning, she stood at that entrance holding a thick stack of IPO prospectuses.
Was it snowing heavily in New York at the time? Waiting for a taxi in the freezing wind must have been unpleasant, but after her career took off, she no longer needed to wait for taxis.
She used her first prize money to buy a red Ferrari.
The car continued forward, crossing the intersection of 47th Street. Satsuki's gaze fell on the sign of a coffee shop on that corner.
Is this coffee shop open this early?
At that corner, she once bought a cup of extremely bitter Americano drip coffee, but because she was rushing to a merger hearing involving hundreds of millions of dollars, she accidentally spilled the coffee on her newly bought trench coat.
The dry cleaner I took to was a total rip-off! Such a small stain, and they charged me so much…
The weariness, anxiety, and constant tension she remembered overlapped strangely with the sense of relaxation she felt now in the spacious, temperature-controlled carriage. She tilted her head slightly, looking at the streets she had once traveled through, a faint smile playing on her lips.
A dozen minutes later, the vehicle slowed down and stopped at the corner of 49th Street.
Satsuki pushed open the car door.
She looked up, her gaze passing over the sidewalk.
A distinctive green and white wooden building comes into view. The classic retro awning extends outwards, with a line of clear English letters printed on the edge: "Smith & Wollensky".
It has always been here.