Marvel 1919 : Rise of an Empire

The two waited a while longer until the final shelf was nearly full. Two laborers used pulleys to carefully stack the gold bricks. Naturally, pulleys were necessary—moving \$900 million worth of gold, at \$30 per ounce, meant handling 30 million ounces. Each brick weighed 12.5 kilograms, totaling around 68,000 bricks. Carrying them by hand would quite literally exhaust someone to death.

"Alright, you stay here. It's my turn for a smoke break. Once this last small cart is done, lock up and meet me outside. Hehe, I'll treat you to dinner later."

"Mmm," George nodded. The man didn't pay much attention and headed out. As soon as the last workers left, George dashed between the shelves. With each step, the shelves vanished.

He quickly gathered everything. George then walked to the door and locked it from the outside. Fingerprints? Nonexistent. Any prints he left while transformed weren't truly his. At the last iron gate, his colleague was leaning casually against the frame. Seeing George approach, he proactively locked the final door and said, "Alright, let's go. It's getting late. After we hand everything over tomorrow, we should celebrate with a good drink."

Seeing that George remained silent, the man added, "Still mad at the supervisor? It won't help. They're in charge whether we like it or not. Let's go." He walked toward a car. "I'll head off first. Got something on tonight, so I won't be seeing you at home. Catch you tomorrow!"

The man opened the car door, pulled out a crank, wound it several times, and drove away. Truthfully, when they first arrived, George had considered knocking him out. Although two armed guards stood on either side of the entrance, they wouldn't have been much trouble.

Well, it was unnecessary now. George passed through two more security checkpoints and exited the underground parking lot. Stepping into the open, George found it almost unbelievable how easily he had acquired the gold.

He noticed people were still searching the road. Once he cleared the area, he slipped into a deserted alley and transformed before leaving.

Back in his study, George dispersed his clone and finally exhaled in relief. His consciousness entered his internal space, now gleaming with gold. In both lifetimes, he had never seen so much wealth.

The problem now was that the money couldn't be spent. This was \$900 million worth of gold. George was confident, even the Morgan family didn't hold this much. He remembered a report from his past life: after the 1930s Great Depression, the Morgans' assets fell from over \$700 million to just above \$400 million—the result of three generations of accumulation!

No matter. Once it entered his space, it was his. Just looking at it brought him joy. After storing several tons of Vibranium, he now had hundreds more tons of gold.

Thinking it over, someone must have known in advance about the Federal Reserve's gold transfer and tried to use the Wall Street explosion as cover to steal some of it. Whether the explosion perpetrators and the gold thieves were the same group remained unclear.

Maybe it was bad luck on their part that George intercepted the —twice. Not only had he taken the first three cars, but he had also hijacked the Federal Reserve's transport.

There might be more he could do. Late that night, George left the villa again and placed the three escort vehicles from his space at an abandoned intersection. As the saying goes, every action leaves a trace. Ever the helpful citizen, George provided the police with a few clues. The rest? He'd enjoy watching it unfold.

The next day, almost all newspapers reported on the explosion. Detailed articles appeared three days later.

The reports stated that during Wall Street's busy lunch hour, a horse-drawn carriage stopped in front of Morgan Bank, the world's most powerful financial institution. It carried 45 kilograms of explosives, a 230-kilogram cast-iron wrecking ball, and a timed detonation device. With a thunderous blast, the carriage and horse were obliterated, and cast-iron shrapnel flew in all directions.

The explosion devastated the U.S. financial center, causing 38 deaths and over 300 injuries. The blast echoed throughout Lower Manhattan and across the East River into Brooklyn. Streets were filled with smoke, shattered glass, collapsed walls, and fallen bodies.

Witness accounts of the carriage and driver were vague and nearly useless. The NYPD reconstructed the bomb and its fuse, but debates arose about the materials used, all of which were fairly common.

In the days that followed, the police, Secret Service, and FBI had no solid leads. No group had claimed responsibility, prompting authorities to explore various motives.

Some speculated an assassination attempt on J.P. Morgan Jr., but it was ruled out as he was abroad at the time. Others suspected robbery, as \$900 million in gold bars had been transported that day to a nearby Treasury Department building. That theory seemed closest to the truth, though the loss of the gold was never officially reported. Still, there was no direct evidence.

Yesterday, police found a stack of anarchist leaflets in a nearby mailbox. The bold message read: "We can no longer tolerate it. Release all political prisoners, or death will be yours." It was signed: "Anarchists."

The police suspected foreign political radicals, particularly Italians, Russians, and Jews.

To this day, the incident remains unresolved. George had already been questioned three times—once at the station, twice at home.

The banquet was postponed to the evening of the 20th. Over the past two days, George continued buying General Motors stock as planned. The explosion had even lowered its price. Thanks to George's persistent purchases, the stock remained around \$17 per share.

He acquired nearly another 1% stake. George now held 1.8% of General Motors, making him a minor shareholder. The percentage was still low enough that public disclosure wasn't necessary, but some people had already taken notice.

George stopped there. He wanted to join GM but saw no need to provoke anyone unnecessarily.

On the evening of the 20th, George attended a cocktail party in a sleek black custom-tailored suit. Although the economy was struggling, financial giants like the Morgans remained unaffected. But for ordinary working-class families, times were hard.

Large financial institutions eased market pressure by "harvesting leeks," pushing small and mid-sized businesses to the brink. In that year alone, bankruptcies increased 1.5 times compared to 1919, and bank failures rose more than sixfold. Unemployment soared to 4.3 million, raising the national rate from 7% to 23%. Even employed workers saw a steep decline in real wages.

Workers called for stronger protections. But during this economic depression, capitalists refused to yield. They, too, were holding out.

In the post-WWI United States, financial institutions prioritized civilian technology. Thus, after the brief downturn, the economy stabilized quickly.

Because the war had ended, while big financial groups were still involved in the military industry, they had abandoned many smaller firms. George saw an opening and began investing strategically.

In essence, he was collecting what the financial giants had discarded—but armed with future knowledge, he picked gold from their trash.

Had this been ten years later, in 1930, with increasing economic instability, entering the military sector would have been nearly impossible. The U.S. government also valued defending its interests with military force.

At the so-called New York elite gathering, George met Mr. Groman.

Seeing George again, Groman was visibly moved. In just a short time, the young man's assets had multiplied again. While older families may have had more wealth on paper, in terms of liquid capital, George was now among the top.

"George, congratulations."

"Thank you, Mr. Groman. Tonight's banquet is quite lively."

After introducing George to a circle of influential figures, Groman left him to mingle. Upon hearing that George was the latest best-selling novelist, their enthusiasm soared.

In America, things worked this way: as a bestselling author, attending such events with someone like Groman elevated George's prestige, perhaps even above Groman's.

Soon after, Groman returned and chuckled, "You should attend these kinds of events more often. You're young; you'll be a hit here. Haha."

George had underestimated the old man. Even now, he still jokes.

"Yes, I need to start integrating. But I just began school, and the explosion has already delayed things quite a bit."

"Young people need patience. You have time. Come, let me introduce you to someone."

Groman led George to Durant of General Motors—a surprise. George had expected someone from the Morgan family, maybe even a low-level manager. But Durant? Didn't DuPont and the Durant family know about his stock purchases?

Were his actions not obvious enough? Once introductions were done, Groman departed, leaving the two alone.

"Surprised to see me?" Durant asked.

"Honestly, yes. I expected someone from the Morgan family. They benefited most from the battery business before."

"They'll come. I just arrived first."

"So you're not here for my battery technology?"

"Yes and no. Let's talk privately."

They stepped onto the balcony with cocktails in hand.

"They're determined to get your battery tech. Before they negotiate seriously, they'll try to test your intentions. Since you've shown a willingness to cooperate, it's just a matter of price. So, I volunteered to talk to you first."

He paused, then added, "Originally, someone else from the Morgans was coming. But I heard from a friend that you're acquiring GM stock, so I wanted to meet you personally."

"May I ask why?"

"Before I answer, may I ask why you're buying so much GM stock?"

"Because I believe in General Motors' future."

"Thank you for the confidence. That means you're in for the long haul. But what if the stock price keeps falling?"

"Then I take the loss. You're the ones steering the ship. I already own 1.8%. If it rises, I profit. If not, I can afford the hit. I'm a bit of a gambler."

"I see. So, would you dare gamble a little more?"

"How so?"

"I'll mortgage all my shares to you at half price. You lent me money. If GM stock falls below 70% of its current value, the shares are yours—a 20% gain. If it rises, we both profit, and you take 50% of the earnings. It's essentially a guaranteed profit."

"That's quite favorable. But regarding the battery patent, I won't accept cash. Only a cooperation model. My conditions: a stake in both Morgan Bank and DuPont. We can negotiate the size. I hope you can pass that along, Mr. Durant."