"Granduncle, shall we begin the transfer now?" Thea asked Trevor.

"Alright, alright, butThea, do you have the money?" Trevor's excitement subsided, and he asked uncertainly.

"You're not teasing me, are you, Granduncle?" Thea glanced at James.

James immediately produced his Black Dragon Card. "Give me the card," he said. "How much is on it?" Thea asked. She knew James had been expelled from the military court for financial irregularities, so she had no idea how much money was on the card.

"It's not much. Probably around two hundred million," James replied, offering a conservative estimate.

Two hundred million was sufficient to address Thea's immediate problems: one hundred million for company acquisition funds and one hundred million as working capital. He didn't want to alarm Thea with a higher figure.

"But the card has no number. How will you transfer the money?" Thea eyed the Black Dragon card skeptically.

"Haha, it's linked to my social security number," James chuckled. "The card number is my social security number."

Trevor eyed James suspiciously. He'd heard rumors that James was a penniless son-in-law. Two hundred million seemed impossible. However, he decided it wasn't his concern.

"Thea, let's go to the company and sign the agreement."

At Pacific Group headquarters—a small company, but with its own office building—in the executive chairman's office, a man in his twenties, dressed in designer clothes, sat on a sofa with a woman in his arms. Another man, in his forties, wearing a neatly pressed suit and tie, sat nearby, nervously tugging at his tie, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Mr. Oswald, we'll repay the money as soon as possible. Please give us a few more days," the middle-aged man pleaded, wiping his brow. This was Larry Callahan, Trevor's son and a Pacific Group representative.

Mr. Oswald smirked. "How will you borrow money in Pacific Group's current state, Larry? Even if you could, you wouldn't get any more orders. Sell me Pacific Group now, and I'll waive the ten million dollars, even give you another ten million. What do you say?"

"Absolutely not. We'll never sell Pacific Group," Larry stated firmly. Pacific Group was their life's work.

Mr. Oswald's face darkened. He produced a promissory note. "This note, signed by Trevor, shows a ten-million-dollar loan with a three-month term and five million dollars in interest—fifteen million total. Pacific Group is the collateral. Are you still trying to break the agreement?"

Larry was speechless. He glanced at the door, hoping for his father's return. The woman in Mr. Oswald's arms sneered, "What else is there to say, Mr. Oswald? We'll sue. We have the promissory note."

Suddenly, a panicked woman burst in. "Mr. Larry, there's a problem at the factory. Dozens of trucks have arrived, threatening to seize equipment if they aren't paid today!"

Larry collapsed. "It's over. Pacific Group is finished."

Just then, Trevor, Thea, and James entered.

"Dad How did it go? Did you get the money?" Larry asked frantically. Seeing Thea, he exclaimed, "Thea, Eternality's chairman! It's really you! Pacific Group is saved!"

Mr. Oswald watched the newcomers. He was an Oswald, holding a precarious position in Cansington. His family was wealthier than the Callahans but not among the city's elite, possessing billions in assets but not at the very top.