novelraw Chapter 258: Mr. Morgan
Chapter 258: Mr. Morgan
New York's morning arrived with a sudden, raucous energy.
The clatter of horseshoes on cobblestones, the long, drawn-out blasts of factory whistles, and the countless people chasing the "American Dream" merging into the torrent of the streets—together, they composed the heartbeat of this Gilded Age behemoth.
Lin Jie and Ethan were riding in a closed four-wheel carriage arranged by the North American branch.
The atmosphere inside the carriage was somewhat heavy.
The weight of the telegram Julian had sent from the East still pressed upon their hearts.
The dangers of Saigon and William's injuries were a constant source of worry.
But Lin Jie understood clearly that in the face of the immense threat posed by the Aether Tower, any distraction could be fatal.
Last night, they had already sent a reply to the East.
The reply was brief, yet it contained three crucial layers of information.
First, Ethan would mobilize all the Redgrave family's resources in the Far East to provide financial support for Julian at the auction, sparing no expense to secure the Tai Sui.Second, they believed in Julian's wisdom and ability to handle the complex situation in Saigon.
Third, the threat on the North American front was imminent. They had to eliminate this variable that would affect the overall situation first, to clear the path for subsequent actions.
This telegram was both support and a decisive commitment.
The interior of the carriage had been meticulously modified. Soft velvet cushions absorbed most of the jolts, while thick curtains completely shut out the external noise and prying eyes.
Hawk, who was traveling with them, felt a trace of discomfort with this "civilized" mode of transport.
The Native American hunter held his massive, leather-and-feather-wrapped war axe, Thunderbird's Wrath, close to his chest, his eyes closed in silence.
Ethan, meanwhile, carefully polished the barrels of Morning Star and Evening Star.
He did not attempt conversation with Hawk. Between these two equally proud ace hunters from different worlds, there hung a delicate, unspoken agreement of mutual non-interference.
Lin Jie's gaze, however, peered through a gap in the curtains, calmly observing this rapidly expanding city.
The skeletal forms of skyscrapers reaching for the clouds, the crisscrossing network of railway tracks, and the faces on the streets brimming with confidence and ambition—all proclaimed the vigorous vitality of this nation.
He understood profoundly that the rise of the Brotherhood of Light in the New World was no accident.
This land worshipped miracles and power, and even more so, those who could transform miracles and power into capital.
Thomas Edison was the perfect embodiment of this era.
The carriage finally came to a stop on Fifth Avenue.
"We're here," Hawk said tersely, opening his eyes first.
Lin Jie and Ethan stepped down from the carriage and were immediately captivated by the magnificent building before them.
It was a vast edifice blending classical and neo-Renaissance styles. Grand arches and Corinthian columns exuded solemnity and dignity.
Above the main entrance, its name was engraved: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
This was one of the largest treasure troves of art in America, indeed the world, where tens of thousands of pilgrims visited daily.
No one could have imagined that the nerve center of I.A.R.C.'s power in the New World would be concealed in such a sun-drenched, tourist-filled location.
"Truly a world apart from London's Underground City," Ethan murmured in quiet awe.
Lin Jie nodded deeply in agreement.
Led by Hawk, they circled to the side of the building and entered the museum interior through a nondescript staff entrance.
The interior scene only deepened Lin Jie's sense of contrast.
The dim gas lamps and flickering candlelight were gone, replaced by a bright lighting system composed of early incandescent bulbs.
The staff bustling through the corridors mostly wore either immaculate white researcher uniforms or impeccably tailored suits.
They moved with hurried purpose, expressions serious, holding data reports and experimental blueprints.
This place felt less like a hunter stronghold and more like the private laboratory of a top-tier university.
After passing through several heavy security doors requiring special keys, Hawk brought them to the door of a top-floor office with a massive picture window.
"Mr. Morgan is waiting for you inside," Hawk stopped and gestured to the side. "My task is complete. The time is yours now."
With that, the wild Native American hunter turned and left, as if unwilling to spend another moment in this cage full of red tape.
Ethan adjusted his cravat, exchanged a glance with Lin Jie, and reached out to knock on the mahogany door.
"Come in," a steady, magnetic voice came from behind the door.
Lin Jie pushed the door open. The sight inside the office made him narrow his eyes slightly.
The opulence of this office far surpassed any he had ever seen.
The enormous desk was carved from a single, rare piece of Brazilian rosewood. The walls were adorned with genuine oil paintings by European classical masters. The globe in the corner was even crafted from ivory and gold.
Every detail of the room silently declared its owner's wealth and power.
And the man seated behind the desk, the head of the North American branch, fit perfectly into this picture.
He was a man around fifty years old.
He wore a bespoke, top-tier three-piece suit, his hair meticulously combed, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his face, his gaze both gentle and sharp.
His demeanor was not that of a hunter battling UMA on the edge of life and death, but rather resembled a top-tier banker dominating Wall Street, controlling the flow of billions in capital.
This gentleman was the highest-ranking officer of the I.A.R.C. North American branch, John Pierpont Morgan.
"Mr. Redgrave, Mr. Lin, please sit," Morgan said with a smile, indicating two leather sofas before the desk. His tone was as gentle as if entertaining two important business partners. "I've long heard of your heroic deeds in Europe. Seeing you today, the reputation is well-deserved."
"You flatter us, Mr. Morgan," Ethan replied with neither humility nor arrogance. His innate aristocratic bearing allowed him to navigate such occasions with ease.
"No, it's not flattery," Morgan turned his gaze to Lin Jie. Behind the lenses, his eyes shone with undisguised appreciation. "Especially you, Mr. Lin. To discern the Mothman's predation logic and devise a plan to lure it out in such a short time—this tactical planning ability is top-tier even within the entire Association."
"You prevented a major disaster for New York that would likely have made the front page of the New York Times."
Lin Jie responded calmly, "I merely did what I had to do."
"An impeccable achievement," Morgan's tone suddenly shifted. His gentle smile faded, revealing the caution and seriousness befitting a man of his station. "However, behind this achievement lies an extremely dangerous problem."
He leaned forward slightly, interlacing his fingers on the desk, his gaze piercing like a sharp blade.
"You overstepped, gentlemen. Without branch authorization, you made contact and escalated tensions between us and the Brotherhood of Light. Your actions nearly shattered the fragile balance we've painstakingly maintained for years."
The atmosphere in the office plummeted to freezing point.
Ethan's expression changed slightly. He was about to speak in defense, but Lin Jie stopped him with a look.
"Mr. Morgan," Lin Jie's tone remained calm, yet his words carried a firm, logical force. "With all due respect, the balance you speak of is likely already gone."
"Oh?" Morgan's eyebrows rose slightly, seemingly surprised by Lin Jie's directness. "I'd like to hear the details."
"Before that, I'd like to ask a question," Lin Jie did not answer directly but posed a counter-question. "What exactly is the state of the balance between the North American branch and the Brotherhood of Light? From what I know, the other side doesn't seem to recognize the existence of such a balance."
Morgan fell silent for a moment, as if reassessing the young Eastern man before him.
He slowly leaned back in his chair and said with a sigh, "You are more perceptive than I imagined, Mr. Lin."
"This is not balance, but... containment," Morgan admitted frankly. "A dangerous cold war based on mutual deterrence and compromise."
He stood up and walked to the large picture window, looking down at the bustling city below.
"You in Europe might find it hard to imagine the immense influence Thomas Edison and his Brotherhood of Light wield on this continent."
"He is not a cult leader hiding in the shadows. On the contrary, he is this nation's 'God of Light' and 'Earthly Prometheus'."
"His name represents progress. The inventions under his banner have changed the lives of millions. Behind him stand the most powerful capital on Wall Street and the most influential senators in the halls of Congress in Washington."
Morgan turned around, his gaze profound as he looked at Lin Jie and Ethan.
"We cannot declare war on him and his organization directly, as we did against the Eternal Serpent in Europe. Because that would not just be a war in the inner world; it would instantly ignite a full-scale conflict in the Surface World."
"That would mean the collapse of financial markets, the loss of control over public opinion, and could even trigger direct military intervention by the federal government. The consequences are something the I.A.R.C. North American branch cannot bear."
"So, we can only choose containment," he continued. "We infiltrate their organization, monitor their plans, sabotage their key experiments in the shadows, like defusing timed bombs one by one."
"We strive to contain their threat within the smallest possible scope, preventing their power from causing irreversible damage to the Surface World. It is indeed passive, and frustrating, but it is the only viable strategy under the current circumstances."
Ethan fell into silence.
Born into the top aristocracy, he understood better than anyone the heavy weight of politics and reality in Morgan's words.
In the face of absolute secular power, pure force could indeed sometimes seem feeble.
"I understand your concerns and respect the efforts the North American branch has made to this end," Lin Jie spoke up. "But you seem to have overlooked the most critical issue. The foundation upon which a containment strategy can exist is that both sides tacitly acknowledge and abide by certain rules of the game."
"But now, Edison has unilaterally torn up those rules and is preparing to overturn the entire board."
Morgan's eyes sharpened. "You are referring to the Aether Tower?"
"Correct," Lin Jie's gaze was incisive. "That is not an ordinary Grotesque Armament, nor a localized threat that can be contained. It is a strategic-level weapon that operates on 'rules' themselves."
"Once it is completed, the Brotherhood of Light will possess the power to define force itself. I believe you understand this even better than I do."
"That will not be a war," Lin Jie said, enunciating each word clearly. "By that time, the North American branch's ace hunters, and the European mysticism experts you disdain, will all be reduced to lambs for the slaughter, with no distinction between them."
"The containment you've worked so hard to maintain will be meaningless in the face of an absolute rules-based weapon. This is not recklessness, Mr. Morgan. It is the only choice."
His words landed with decisive weight, leaving Morgan speechless.
Ethan clapped his hands softly, feeling genuine admiration for Lin Jie's rigorous logic and courage.
Morgan, meanwhile, stared at Lin Jie for a long time, the look behind his glasses complex and inscrutable.
He saw in this young man a power different from Hawk's—not born of muscle or bloodline, but stemming from wisdom and insight that transcended the era.
After a long while, the helmsman of the North American branch let out a long, heavy sigh.
"You've convinced me, Mr. Lin. At least on a logical level, I cannot refute your judgment." He returned to his seat, rubbing his temples wearily with both hands. "But I still cannot approve your operation."
"Why?" Ethan couldn't help but ask.
"We came here under direct orders from Geneva Headquarters! Sir Henderson authorized us to assist the North American branch in dealing with the Brotherhood of Light threat. Mr. Morgan, are you openly defying headquarters' command?"
Ethan attempted to apply pressure using headquarters' authority, a tactic that had served him well in Europe.
However, not a trace of hesitation showed on Morgan's face.
"Mr. Redgrave, mind your words. This is North America, not London."
"I respect Sir Henderson's decision and am grateful for headquarters' 'concern' for the North American branch. However, according to Article III of the I.A.R.C.'s 'Branch Autonomy Regulations,' when headquarters' directives may pose an unpredictable, catastrophic security risk to the local region, the branch head has the authority to... temporarily suspend the execution of said directive."
"In other words," Morgan's gaze turned icy, "on this land, what I say goes."
Ethan's face flushed, then paled. He was left speechless by these uncompromising, blunt words.
"This is not bureaucracy, Ethan."
Morgan's tone softened somewhat as he turned his gaze to Lin Jie.
"This is the responsibility a person in charge must bear. Because I am not just a hunter; I am the head of the North American branch."
"I am responsible for the lives of the hundreds of Investigators in this branch, and for the stability of the entire North American inner world. Your plan is a high-stakes gamble with extremely low odds of success and extremely high risk."
"I cannot bet the future of the entire branch on your gamble."
"So," Lin Jie interjected, "you will neither approve nor prevent it, is that correct?"
Morgan raised his head and looked deeply at Lin Jie. He neither confirmed nor denied it.
He pulled a file from a drawer and gently pushed it to the center of the desk.
"This contains all the geographical survey reports and meteorological data for the periphery of the Wardenclyffe area, as well as known guard patrol maps."
His tone was meaningful.
"This file was supposed to be taken away by our field exploration team in a month. Unfortunately, their departure permits have been 'indefinitely postponed' due to certain 'administrative reasons'."
"Now, it's just an outdated piece of information forgotten here, of no concern to anyone."