Aside from a brief post on the Berlin Labs website, there hadn't been any official noise.
Julian knew the system would react eventually. He just didn't expect it this fast. The press release had only been out for half an hour when Greg's side started losing it.
Julian didn't bother explaining.
A few days later, things blew up. Greg had found out through the news.
A finance headline read: "Berlin Labs enters regulatory sandbox collaboration with leading UK bank Pubclays on anonymous clearing protocol"
Below it was Julian's headshot, in a formal post with a full byline.
Fifteen minutes later, clients were calling.
They sounded agitated.
"Aren't you running a traditional restructure in Hong Kong? What's this anonymous clearing in Germany? Which one are you actually doing?"
Greg went pale.
"What the fuck did you sign?"
Julian was scrolling through Uber Eats at his desk. He didn't even look up. He just blinked once and said:
"That wasn't a deal."
His voice was light, like he was dreaming.
"We were all high. I thought we were just chatting. Didn't expect them to drop a press release."
But Berlin Labs did drop it.
With Julian's photo and a warm, gushing caption:
"London's trading system may soon join the anonymous structure test route. Special thanks to Julian W. for his professional insights."
That was enough to trigger the system.
Greg had been advancing a "Hong Kong fund reversal" deal, which used traditional structured accounts.
Julian's memo from Berlin outlined a test sandbox for anonymous clearing.
The two models were fundamentally incompatible.
And worse—both had Julian's name on them.
The internal risk system kicked in on its own:
"Structural Overlap Detected.
Conflict Model Audit Initiated."
Less than an hour later, Greg got the compliance notice:
"Due to ongoing third-party structural overlaps, this project is now under audit hold."
His boss asked, "Can you still control your team?"
Greg smashed a glass on the table.
"I never approved this! Who the hell told him to sign anything?!"
Julian was still sitting at the desk across from him, slowly turning a box of truffle mac and cheese, squeezing a thin line of chili oil on top.
He mumbled, mouth half-full,
"You told me to execute, right?"
The compliance alerts were still flashing on his screen.
He twirled another forkful of pasta, chewed lazily, and tapped into the food delivery app again. Maybe it was time to try a different place tonight.
Soon after, Compliance called Julian in for a one-on-one.
The room was all glass. Felt more like a cage match than a meeting.
Julian sat by the window, coffee cup in hand.
Across from him sat Reed, a senior officer in his fifties, sharp suit, flipping through a stack of printed documents.
Next to him was a junior legal trainee, stiff posture, typing every word.
"This document," Reed said, pushing one page forward, "was posted last Friday on the Berlin Labs website. It's a cooperation memo."
Julian glanced at it and nodded.
"How exactly did you get involved?"
Julian answered slowly.
He remembered the lights that night, the haze of drugs, the music, the Berlin Labs director slurring through her drink, asking,
"So… has your system ever considered anonymous clearing?"
He hadn't brought slides. No notes. Just scribbled a few logic nodes on paper. It was messy.
He had known the logic would clash with Greg's.
He just wanted to see which one would catch fire first.
He set his coffee down, speaking like he was telling someone else's story.
"They called it a semi-formal industry gathering. Said they were curious about our desk's attitude toward anonymous clearing. We talked a bit. They asked if I could share some ideas. So I… wrote a few."
"You wrote something?"
"Yeah." He blinked. "On a piece of paper."
The trainee paused. Reed frowned.
"You're saying this was an informal meeting?"
Julian gave a small smile.
"I didn't know they'd publish it. I never permitted them to use my full name."
Reed flipped to the next page.
"You realize this structure overlaps significantly with the Hong Kong project Greg is running?"
Julian paused for three seconds.
"I do."
"And you still signed it?"
"I signed Greg's project. But I hadn't committed any funds yet. I was waiting for the flaw to surface on its own."
He leaned back, like recounting a disaster he had quietly engineered weeks ago.
"And the Berlin thing… that just got out of hand. They were drunk. I didn't tell them to publish it. I just shared a possible framework from a different angle."
"You're aware the system now flags you as the core architect of both structures."
"The system isn't flagging me because I broke rules," Julian said, glancing at his sleeve.
"It's flagging me because the models were already in conflict. I just made them collide earlier."
"You're dodging responsibility."
"I let it crash itself."
He looked up again, calm.
"I didn't push any trades. I compiled Greg's materials, but gave no execution order.
I gave Berlin a conceptual model. No binding terms.
I just saw two worlds that couldn't coexist."
The trainee stopped typing. Reed rubbed his temples.
"You do realize Greg's project is frozen now."
Julian nodded.
"The system did that. Not me."
Silence.
Reed's tone shifted—more tired than angry now.
"What is it that you're trying to do?"
Julian blinked once.
His voice sounded like a weather forecast.
"I want to see which one breaks first."
He stood up and added,
"I'll submit the report later. I haven't violated any clauses.
If necessary, I'll take a level-two audit."
He closed the glass door behind him.
Compliance wasn't sure if this was some kind of joke.
The system wasn't laughing.
It had already frozen Greg's access.
And tagged Julian as a modeler under active watch.
Because he'd made two legal structures turn on each other.