"Are you crazy?"
Ben was frightened by Adam's plan, and his voice echoed through the empty streets.
"The security of Stirling Capital is military-level, and his gang is a jackal who eats people and doesn't spit out bones!"
Adam took out a black USB flash drive from his backpack, an inconspicuous little thing that reflected a faint light under the street lamp.
"Ben, what I want is not money."
He turned the USB flash drive between his fingers, and his eyes became deep.
"What I want is an admission ticket."
Ben stared at the USB flash drive, frowning.
"What's in there?"
"A gift left by my father."
Adam put the USB flash drive back away.
"Some secrets that only a few people know."
Wall Street is still busy at night, and the financial elites who fought here during the day have changed their outfits and continue to compete in high-end restaurants and bars.
Stirling Capital's headquarters building towers into the sky, and the glass façade reflects the lights of the entire city.
The sixty-eight-story skyscraper is like a sharp knife that plunges straight into the New York skyline.
"Julian Croft."
Ben spoke suddenly, his voice low and low.
"Sterling's number one confidant, a former Marine."
He pointed to the security guards in suits and leather shoes at the entrance of the building.
"Those people are all his men, and their methods are extremely cruel. People on Wall Street call him 'the scavenger.' "
Adam's gaze swept from the building to the security personnel.
Their positions are professional, with every angle covering all areas of the hall.
"Where did this information come from?"
"My father used to work with Sterling on a project."
Ben wiped the sweat from his palms.
"Julian was the one I met at that time, and this guy has a scar on his face, which is said to have been left in Afghanistan."
Adam nodded and walked towards the café across the street.
"You wait for me here."
He took out his phone from his pocket and operated it skillfully.
"If I don't come out after an hour, send this email to the Wall Street Journal."
Ben took the phone and saw an edited email displayed on the screen.
The recipient is the editor-in-chief of the financial section of the Wall Street Journal.
Subject: Important evidence on Sterling Capital's illegal acquisition.
"Adam, are you sure you want to do this?"
"There is no turning back."
Adam tidied up his suit and tie, and although the suit had been worn for two days, it still looked decent under the cover of night.
"Remember, an hour."
The lobby of Stirling Capital is magnificent, with the marble floor reflecting the glow of crystal chandeliers.
There are several valuable abstract paintings on the walls, and in the corners are leather sofas imported from Italy.
Every decoration here silently declares the wealth and power of its owner.
As soon as Adam stepped into the lobby, four security guards surrounded him.
Their movements are coordinated and clearly professionally trained.
"Sir, please show proof of appointment."
The leading security officer had an indifferent voice, and his hand was already on his waist without a trace.
"I'm looking for Richard Sterling."
Adam's voice was so calm that there was not a trace of waves.
"If you don't make an appointment, I'm afraid you won't be able to go upstairs."
The attitude of the security personnel became more vigilant, and several others began to move closer to this side.
At this moment, the elevator door opened.
A tall man walked out with a scar on his face that extended from the corner of his left eye to the corner of his mouth.
The scar looked particularly hideous in the light.
Julian Croft.
"White's son?"
His voice was clearly mocking, and his eyes were staring fiercely at Adam.
"I thought you should have rotted in a mental hospital a long time ago."
Julian walked up to Adam, and the distance between the two was less than half a meter.
The former Marine is over 1.9 meters tall, has tight muscles, and exudes a dangerous aura that only those who have been on the battlefield have.
"See clearly, boy."
Julian stretched out his finger and poked hard at Adam's chest.
"My surname here is Sterling now!"
Adam did not back down and did not fight back.
He just looked at Julian quietly, there was no fear in his eyes, only a disturbing calm.
"Your master is waiting for me upstairs."
"Master?"
Julian let out a sneer, his palm pressed on Adam's shoulder, and the force became heavier and heavier.
"You bankrupt lunatic, what qualifications do you have to see Mr. Sterling?"
Several other security personnel also gathered around to form an encirclement.
The others in the lobby stopped their work and focused their eyes here.
There is a tense atmosphere in the air that the mountain rain is coming.
Adam suddenly raised the volume, his voice echoing between the marble walls.
"Richard Sterling!"
His shout shook everyone in the hall.
"You swallowed my father's company, are you now ready to be a shrunken turtle?"
Julian's face instantly turned blue, and his hand had reached somewhere around his waist.
"You are looking for death!"
But just as he was about to do it, a voice came from above the hall.
That came from the top floor office, clearly communicated to every corner through an internal broadcasting system.
"Julian."
The voice was low and majestic, with an unquestionable authority.
"Let our guests come up."
Julian's hand stopped in mid-air, and the expression on his face was complicated and indescribable.
He obviously wanted to get rid of Adam now, but an order is an order.
"Search your body."
He gritted his teeth and ordered his men.
"Take everything off him."
Security personnel skillfully searched Adam's body.
Wallets, mobile phones, keys, and even pens were confiscated.
But the USB flash drive hidden in the pocket of her underwear cleverly escaped the search.
"Remember, boy."
Julian leaned close to Adam's ear, his voice so low that only the two of them could hear it.
"If you dare to play tricks upstairs, I will let you experience what it means to be worse than death."
The elevator slowly rises, and the floor numbers on the digital display keep beating.
Thirty floors, forty floors, fifty floors...
Until finally stopped on the sixty-eighth floor.
The elevator door opens, and a long corridor covered with Persian carpets reveals in front of you.
The corridors are lined with a variety of artworks, from Renaissance paintings to modern abstract sculptures, each priceless.
It's not like an office area, it's more like a private museum.
Richard Sterling's office occupies a third of the entire floor.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the entire Manhattan, and the night view is dazzling.
The desk is made of a single piece of black marble, on which are several antique table clocks and a set of stationery in solid gold.
The bookshelves on the walls stretch from floor to ceiling and are filled with various editions of economics and historical texts.
Richard Sterling sat behind that huge desk with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
The man in his fifties wore a hand-made dark blue suit with his hair combed meticulously.
His eyes were deep and sharp, revealing a majesty that only those who hold great power possess.
"Sit down, child."
Sterling's voice was surprisingly gentle, like a kind elder entertaining a junior.
"Want to drink something? I have a 1964 Macallan whiskey here, a bottle worth a hundred thousand dollars. "
Adam sat down in a chair across from his desk.
It is a leather chair handmade in Italy, and you can feel the luxurious texture the moment you sit on it.
"No need."
Adam's voice was calm, and his eyes were fixed on Sterling.
"I'm not here to enjoy it."
Sterling chuckled and took a sip of whiskey.
"So, tell me, what are you here for?"
The atmosphere in the room suddenly became solemn.
The city lights outside the window are still bright, but the office is filled with a pre-storm tranquility.
Adam slowly stood up, leaned forward with his hands on the desk.
His eyes burned with cold flames, and every word was as clear as if he was pronouncing a verdict.
"Mr. Sterling."
His voice echoed through the huge office.
"My father's company, you haven't paid yet."
He paused for a second, letting the weight of the sentence settle completely.
"I'm here to collect debts."