Chapter 223: The Bait (6)
Meanwhile, John Lau’s pride was thoroughly trampled.
‘Endure it…?’
This wasn’t the first time he’d been in a situation like this.
Bowing his head in front of arrogant men was a survival tactic he was quite used to.
For example, in front of the Malaysian Prime Minister, he often acted like a secretary to Gonzalez, just as Gonzalez claimed.
But even then, his pride was never wounded.
Rather, he considered that behavior to be the key to his success at the top.
But…
This time was different.
‘Why bring up the auction house, of all things…?’ John Lau always kept a strict line between public and private matters.
In the public sphere, bowing his head was expected, but in the private sphere, he was an entirely different person.
Out of the Prime Minister’s view, he ruled over his own small kingdom.
And the pinnacle of that kingdom was the auction house.
Of course, prestigious auction houses hadn’t welcomed him from the start.
Sotheby’s, Christie’s, Phillips…
These institutions, with hundreds of years of tradition, were notorious for raising barriers to new wealth.
But after years of building “trust,” Lau had finally become a top-tier VIP.
The symbol of that status was the “Skybox.”
A special private room where one could observe auctions, unlike the general floor seating.
It was a privilege reserved for the elite few.
Lau came and went from that room like it was his estate.
The Skybox wasn’t just a hobby or a place to hide assets—it was where his value and prestige were affirmed.
And now—
Gonzalez was daring to defile his most private realm.
“But, does the auction house know you’re bidding under someone else’s name?”
“......”
“Surely, you’re not buying under MDB’s name? Just to stash it away…”
“......”
“Are you playing warehouse keeper now? Pretending to be the owner when the real one isn’t around?”
Gonzalez’s insults knew no end.
From secretary to warehouse keeper—what an insult.
Lau’s fingertips trembled slightly.
‘No, I’m different.’
He wasn’t just some manager.
He was the architect who designed the massive framework of MDB and the maestro who orchestrated the flow of its funds…
It was just that he couldn’t be officially acknowledged because the fund was tied up in an embezzlement scandal.
“Well, in any case, since you can’t take the test, let’s proceed by the book. Shall we go ahead with due diligence?”
“Due diligence?”
“That’s a standard process in major investment deals, isn’t it? Don’t you need to confirm the source of your funds and check for regulatory risks?”
At Gonzalez’s words, Lau’s expression hardened.
If they proceeded with due diligence by the book, MDB would never pass.
Investigations were already underway in their own country.
Fortunately, Gonzalez didn’t seem aware of that yet…
But once due diligence began, that would change.
In the end, Lau had no choice but to ask in a crawling voice.
“Is there… no other test besides due diligence?”
Gonzalez frowned in disbelief.
“You’re saying even this won’t work? I mean…”
That reaction crumpled Lau’s pride once more, but he forced himself to appear calm and continued.
“Due diligence takes quite some time, doesn’t it? You seemed eager to proceed quickly…”
Then suddenly—
Lau realized how pathetic he must look in this moment, and he wiped the unnecessary expression off his face, adopting a solemn demeanor.
“I can provide the ‘assistance’ you want. And the kind of person who can offer that kind of help… wouldn’t pass the sort of screening you just mentioned.”
In other words, he was trying to mimic the tone of powerful men skilled in backdoor deals.
But despite his effort, within the current flow of conversation, it only came across as a weak excuse.
“Sigh…”
Gonzalez let out a sigh so deep it made even the listener uncomfortable.
Then, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, he brought up a new suggestion.
“Nothing’s working out, huh? Then let’s do this. I heard your parties are pretty famous.”
“…Parties?”
“Yes, judging by the scale and the attendees, the parties themselves are somewhat of a ‘character reference,’ aren’t they?”
At the word “party,” Lau’s expression subtly brightened.
He was a master of throwing lavish parties and gathering influential figures.
This was, in a sense, his area of expertise.
“There happens to be a perfect opportunity. The MET Gala is coming up soon.”
“The MET Gala…?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it?”
Of course he had.
The MET Gala.
It was the massive annual event held every May by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, often called the “Oscars of fashion.”
The most glamorous event in the fashion world.
A place where global celebrities, corporate titans, and art world legends gathered in one place.
“No matter what, you’ll be able to attend this, right?”
“Well…”
Lau couldn’t answer easily.
The MET Gala was a space only open to those invited.
While regular sponsors could participate, the guest list was famously curated directly by the editor-in-chief of Vogue.
But Lau had a different concern...
“Don’t tell me, you want to do business with me but can’t even manage this?”
At Gonzalez’s scornful tone, Lau instinctively shook his head.
“No, of course I can attend.”
“Good. Then let’s schedule the party for that night.”
“If you host the after-party that night, we’ll be able to see for ourselves how much ‘influence’ you really have, won’t we?”
Lau was momentarily speechless.
Gonzalez was now asking him to host the MET Gala’s after-party.
The MET Gala after-party.
After the official event, influential figures would host their own after-parties.
In other words, on the same night, at the same time—
Numerous celebrities would be sending out invitations simultaneously.
“So that’s what you meant by a test.”
“Exactly.”
This was not an easy test.
Guests would have to reject all other invitations and choose Lau’s party as their final destination.
“Oh, and one more thing. The party should be under your own name. Don’t hide behind someone who buys paintings for you.”
“In my name?”
Lau’s voice trembled slightly.
He had always, habitually, acted under someone else’s name.
And now he was being asked to put his own name on the line—on a global stage like the MET Gala.
This clashed completely with his usual policy.
However, Gonzalez gave him no time to hesitate.
“Sigh, forget it.”
Gonzalez let out a long sigh, then suddenly stood up and snapped his briefcase shut.
“This won’t work, that won’t work… there are just too many conditions. I tried to be patient to get this done in a month, but at this rate, it could take years.”
He nonchalantly pushed the cash-filled bag toward Lau.
“This is for your trouble. If you’re going to keep thinking about it, just leave.”
Gonzalez really looked like he didn’t care.
As if he was ready to walk away from the deal at any moment.
But Lau was different.
He needed this brute.
Most of all, what had just slipped from Gonzalez’s lips—“one month”—was a tantalizing condition.
‘If I can wrap this up in one month…’
That would mean he could inflate the performance of the sovereign wealth fund and quiet all suspicions.
He had to seize this opportunity no matter what.
“Of course I can! I just hesitated because I was considering the venue and theme for the party.”
In the end, he had no choice but to accept the second test.
A vague sense of unease crept into his chest, but he forcefully pushed it down.
‘It’s just a party. I’ve done this countless times.’
There shouldn’t be any major problems.
At that moment, Gonzalez casually shrugged and spoke.
“I just hope you don’t cancel halfway through. That’s something my secretary tends to do.”
Then he added with a smirk,
“Guess it’s that lack of ownership or whatever…”
It was a jab referencing his earlier comment about a “warehouse keeper playing the owner.”
Lau kept smiling when he heard that.
But his eyebrow twitched slightly.
‘It’s something I have to do anyway. And besides…’
Putting this brute in his place wouldn’t be so bad either.
***
Two weeks after the meeting with John Lau—
An invitation arrived for Gonzalez.
<MET Gala After-Party>
On the card was engraved the name “John Lau.”
In other words, he was indeed hosting the party under his own name.
“You don’t know who the guests are, right?”
“No, that’s something we’ll have to find out in person.”
I gave Gonzalez a simple directive.
“On the day of the event, circle around the venue and meet every attendee. Ask them about their connection to John Lau. How they met, how close they are.”
In truth, this entire party was a clever trap.
‘This time, we need witnesses.’
In our past life, when Lau’s fraud was exposed, many people claimed, “He was just an acquaintance in passing,” distancing themselves from him.
But this time, it would be different.
Attending the party itself would be undeniable proof of a deep connection with Lau.
“But what if some of them say they don’t know him well?”
In response to Gonzalez’s question, I smiled briefly and replied, “In that case, ask them this: ‘Couldn’t get an invite to any of the other parties?’”
At an ordinary party, it might be plausible to say, “I barely know him but decided to stop by.”
But the MET Gala after-party was different.
On this night, under the New York sky, countless top stars and big shots hosted their own after-parties.
So why would someone reject all those other invitations and go out of their way to attend an event hosted by a relatively unknown John Lau?
There could only be one reason.
A personal connection.
Or a favor.
As I explained that, a glimmer of anticipation gradually appeared on Gonzalez’s face.
“Anything else?”
His eyes sparkled like an actor waiting to go onstage.
It seemed he was actually enjoying this performance.
And apparently, he’d realized he had a talent for it.
So this level of immersion wasn’t surprising.
“There’s nothing else you need to do. Just follow the instructions I gave you precisely.”
“But that’s just for the after-party, right? I feel like there should be something to do during the main gala too…”
The after-party wouldn’t even start until around midnight, after the gala ended.
But Gonzalez seemed eager to play the role even before that.
‘Ambitious, I see.’
I shook my head firmly.
“No, you don’t need to worry about the main event. I’ll handle things then.”
At my reply, Gonzalez paused for a moment, then added as if remembering something,
“Oh, right. Sean will be attending that day, too.”
“Of course.”
The MET Gala was an event only the most carefully selected guests could attend.
Ha Si-heon, the legendary hedge fund manager known as “The Orca” and the defender of retail investors, had, of course, received an invitation.
This meant it was my turn to step onto the stage.
And my role there was very clear.
‘Time to sprinkle a little MSG.’
(To be continued)