Before he finished speaking, Mr. Clark turned to look at Wolf on the side, and said amiably: "Don't be discouraged, young man, do a good job, there is still a long way to go." ”

After speaking, he was surrounded by a group of black-clothed agents, arrived in front of the exclusive elevator, and entered the elevator alone, looking at the number three displayed outside the elevator, the faces of all the black-clothed agents showed envy and jealousy, and then they glanced at each other, hula, and dispersed as if nothing happened.

There were two black-clothed agents who had a good relationship, walking side by side, and the fat man with a round face sighed lightly and said, "Hey, I really don't know when I will be able to mix up with Mr. Clark's status-"

His black-faced companion patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, raised his index finger to his lips and made a shush motion, glanced back, and lowered his voice: "We always have hope to climb, but that one, who failed to compete with Mr. Clark for the directorship, in this life, I am afraid can only be an agent-"

"Ha," the round-faced agent sneered, "I said how come I never saw him in a black suit, did he think he was superior without a black suit?!"

As if to confirm the words of the two, the camera finally returned to the place where the dispute first occurred, Mr. Meng's face was gloomy, and after glaring at Wolf fiercely, he snatched the quotation in his hand and walked away.

Obviously, the appearance of the old rival made him have to let go of this young man who made a big mistake, but he was not reconciled, and finally simply withdrew the job he gave this young man.

The red vests around them did not say a word of ridicule this time, they looked at Worf's tall back, their faces full of sympathy and happiness, both sympathy for what happened to this companion, and glad that it was not themselves who were unlucky.

The camera zooms out from Wolf's bleak back to the second floor, where traders in red vests weave through white computer desks like a swarm of worker bees toiling in a hive.

The camera didn't stop there, continued to climb rapidly, and soon reached the third floor, looking down from the third floor, the red vests on the ground floor became smaller and smaller, and in the independent offices on the second floor, there was an independent agent in a black suit in each office, some of them stood in front of the window to answer the phone, some sat behind the desk looking for information, and even one was working with the secretary**.

All this was clearly reflected in the eyes of Mr. Clarke, who was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window on the third floor, and the sunlight rushed through the glass curtain wall behind him, so that his whole person was bathed in golden sunlight, like a god, and he looked at everything under his feet with pride, as if the king looked at his own kingdom.

At this moment, a pleasant phone rang, Mr. Clark stretched out his generous hand, wearing only a wedding ring, picked up the mobile phone, looked at the caller ID, his brows furrowed slightly, after connecting the phone, his voice was not gentle and kind: "Hi, Don, my good brother, what wind blew you here?"

As he spoke, he pulled down the cord next to the floor-to-ceiling window, and as the silver-gray blinds slowly folded, the emperor was completely isolated from his subjects.

At the same time, a row of bloody banknotes flew out, and in the silver-gray blinds, a row of big characters was finally formed - Wall Street predators!

Jian Han only let out a long breath at this time, I have to say that in just a few minutes of the film, the shooting is very fascinating, a large number of junior traders wearing red vests, a small number of independent brokers in black suits and white shirts, and the high-ranking director of Clark, forming a hierarchical pyramid of power.

The red-clothed vests at the bottom want to become black-clothed agents, and the black-clothed brokers are staring at the directors at the head, and everyone makes no secret of their self-climbing.

And the protagonist of the movie, the young Worf, even in the red vest, belongs to the bottom of the existence, his peers ridicule unscrupulously, and the agent Mr. Meng can even send him to be a cleaner in a word, such an honest young man, in this small society like a food chain, seems to be a tragic existence in itself, and people can't help but faintly worry about his fate.

The opening of the film flashes back, and the scene returns to Director Clark's office, he is sitting in a comfortable leather chair, a ruddy white face is almost completely hidden in the shadow of the high-backed leather chair, which makes him look a little gloomy, and his tone is not so gentle to the guy on the other end of the phone: "Don, I said it once, that is the last time!" I've done so much to you, and that group of mad dogs from Co. are already staring at me-"

"Clark, my dear friend, or should you hear the story of my beloved foal?" Don on the other side interrupted Clark's voice in a soft but unceremonious tone.

Then, without waiting for Clarke's consent, Don spoke to himself: "Oh, that's a pretty little pony, she's only three years old, with smooth chestnut hair, snow-white teeth, and big brown eyes that always look at you with affection—"

The corners of Clark's upturned lips drooped, his chin tensed, his brow furrowed deeply, and following his line of sight, a delicate picture frame on his desk jumped into the camera, it was a young girl with chestnut hair, probably in her early twenties, standing on the green lawn in a black bachelor's gown, big brown eyes and a smile, and the corners of her lips grinning, revealing a mouthful of snow-white teeth, judging from the date in the lower right corner of the photo and the desk calendar time, it should be a photo taken not long ago.

"She took part in the Arc de Triomphe for the first time and won me a prize, and at that time, I was so fond of her that I wanted to keep her on a leash and see her all the time—"

Clark gritted his teeth, his forehead bruised, grabbed the frame, snapped it, obviously, his anger was almost irrepressible, he stood up, took his phone, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, opposite Don was still telling the story of the foal.

Clark stood sideways, the thick index finger of his right hand hooked the corner of the blind, looking down, under his gaze, his kingdom was still busy, his subjects were still running for him, his face suddenly showed a little ruthless, and finally his eyes fell on the red-clothed vests on the first layer, the red-clothed worker ants who were busy, the clumsy, tall figure that was disliked and hindered by his companions, looked very pitiful.

"Do you know what happened to that cute foal?"