Chapter 915: A Problematic Youth with Too Many Problems

A clash between uncle and nephew.

The shareholders had no intention of intervening. Instead, they seemed rather eager to watch the conflict unfold.

Sanchez looked down at his uncle from above. “You’d better shut your mouth. If there’s a problem, we can talk in private. I have important guests here, and you’re embarrassing me.”

In private?

The CEO flinched. A sudden chill ran down his spine—his nephew might be planning something much more serious.

It was a strange feeling, but he could sense it.

Looking back, it made sense.

The general had entrusted this enterprise to his brother, though perhaps that hadn’t been the original plan. The CEO provided funding and military equipment to support the general’s cause, while the general, in return, supplied EveryMoment with cheap, high-quality raw materials and everything else it needed.

But as EveryMoment’s market value soared, the CEO’s position became increasingly awkward. He didn’t realize it. He hadn’t seen the shift.

Only now did he begin to understand that the general—so feared in his eyes—was, in fact, at his mercy.

An ambitious, capable man with means doesn’t let anyone—not even his own brother—hold his weakness in their hands.

At first, EveryMoment relied on support from within Marilo. Now, it was the other way around. The general’s entire operation depended on EveryMoment for blood.

EveryMoment had grown to overshadow the general and his armed organization. Without the massive yearly funding from the company, it would be impossible to maintain the general’s vast warlord system.

In war-torn Marilo, reality ruled all. Whoever could feed the people, offer stability, and provide a path to peace would be seen as the country’s savior.

But all that required money. A lot of money. The bigger the warlord, the more troops, the more land, the more unthinkable the costs.

When he was just a mid-sized warlord, a yearly military budget of a few hundred thousand sols was enough.

Now, at this scale, without millions—or tens of millions—flowing in annually, the war machine would collapse.

Cut off the funding, and not only would enemies outside seek their heads, but those ruled by fear and money inside wouldn’t spare them either.

In such a place, strength is respected isn’t just about the strong—it’s also a warning about the fate of the weak.

And so, the general had grown wary of his federal little brother.

He constantly plotted how to seize control of EveryMoment. Only with the company firmly in his grasp could he feel secure.

Before any problems arose, shareholders had always sided with the CEO.

Replacing a listed company’s CEO without warning usually triggered market backlash, especially one with foreign involvement. Risks were high.

But now? The problems had already happened. And there was a reason—a perfect excuse.

Removing the CEO now meant the best-case scenario was lifelong house arrest. Worst case: a fatal accident.

Humans are tough—some survive multiple fatal wounds and are hailed as miracles.

But they can also be fragile—sometimes it takes just a small bump to end a life.

He could feel it—killing intent hanging thick in the air.

If he didn’t resist now, once the shareholders left and he was fully under control, he wouldn’t even have the chance to fight back.

“I’m the CEO of EveryMoment, do you understand?!” the man roared, face flushed red, veins bulging from his neck.

Sanchez sneered. “That’s just what you think.”

“Most of the company’s shares are held by others. You don’t own much anymore.”

That was the fatal flaw—planted from the very beginning.

To avoid outright capital plundering from the Federation, EveryMoment had accepted federal capital investments. But that meant loss of equity and control. The company risked being taken over—something Federation capitalists excelled at.

To counter this, the people behind EveryMoment created layers of anonymous holding companies.

Over 30% of the shares were held by multiple locally registered companies, satisfying market transparency rules while concealing the truth: these companies were actually controlled by EveryMoment itself.

They hired professional agents in Eminence to act as proxies. As long as these agents were paid and given broad strategic guidance, they followed instructions.

From the outside, it looked like EveryMoment had been carved up by federal capital, following all the usual market rules.

But no one knew the shares were still in Marilo hands.

This system also shielded them from certain risks of the Federation’s capital game. The remaining shares were scattered across small shareholders, each owning too little to wield real influence.

The CEO seemed to hold only a small share personally. But if he could mobilize the shares held by the anonymous companies, he’d instantly become the board’s largest shareholder.

The problem now was: he couldn’t.

Either he couldn’t access those anonymous holdings anymore, or he’d lost control over the agents representing them.

To professional agents, as long as they hadn’t committed major violations or broken their contracts, their actions were protected and legally valid.

Changing their behavior would require formal documentation. Without that, there’d be no accountability or way to shift responsibility if things went wrong.

These agents hadn’t received any signals, so they remained neutral. No one even knew who they were.

Reclaiming those shares would take time—a process. And Sanchez clearly wasn’t going to give him that time.

Worse yet, the CEO had already transferred his remaining shares to Lynch in exchange for financial support.

Sweat drenched his forehead. He looked to the shareholders for help—but they returned only cold, polite stares. No one made a move.

Capital has never been sentimental. Everyone’s feeding on others—there’s no need to be moved by the sorrow of the prey. That’s the most foolish emotion.

“Take him away. No need to keep disgracing us here,” Sanchez said, frowning in irritation.

The CEO opened his mouth to speak, but one of Sanchez’s men, under the guise of supporting him, suddenly drove a hidden punch into his lower abdomen.

A wave of searing, radiating pain tore through him. His body nearly collapsed. He couldn’t even stand properly—his breath caught in his chest, his body instinctively locking up.

Two men quickly escorted him out. Only then did Sanchez’s smile return.

“As I just announced, due to the CEO’s poor decisions when facing recent issues, which caused the company’s valuation to plunge, he is relieved of all duties effective immediately. We are also activating the share buyback clause to reclaim all shares in his possession.”

“Furthermore, from this moment on, I will personally assume the role of CEO of EveryMoment. Does anyone have any objections?”

He looked around at the shareholders. In truth, none of them fully understood what was really happening, so no one dared speak rashly.

Still, they all agreed with the problem Sanchez pointed out.

If headquarters hadn’t refused to let the cruise ship dock at the time, maybe none of the later chaos would’ve happened.

Some couldn’t help but glance toward Lynch, seated at the front. It was Lynch who had been shorting EveryMoment at the time, prompting the CEO to wrongly assume that someone was attacking the company’s stock and decide against allowing the cruise ship to dock.

He hadn’t known what consequences would follow. Faced with the unknown, he had chosen what he believed was safe.

This is a common flaw among those in power: they believe themselves omnipotent and all-knowing. In reality, they’re nothing but garbage.

Despite the stares, Lynch showed not a trace of shame. He had earned this. This was how the federal capital game was played.

Winners take all. Losers are left to be handled by others.

After wrapping up the matter, Sanchez returned to the head seat. His presence stood out—elegant but laced with violence, calm yet hiding madness.

“I hope everyone will cooperate with the board’s decision and refrain from selling shares to anyone, regardless of the price offered.”

“Once this period has passed, you can sell however you please. But not now.”

“I trust you will comply.”

He said cooperate, but his tone was that of a command.

After a moment, no one spoke out. Sanchez smiled and nodded. “It seems there are no objections…”

Lynch raised his hand. “I have a small question…”