Hall's shameless and lewd words succeeded in making Helena angry, and if it weren't for the sake of business, she would have tried the medieval aristocracy's method of punishing the rebels.

But in any case, Helena once again has a new understanding of her son's growth and reluctantly agrees to his plan.

The next morning, it was drizzling in London, and there was no wind, so it was rare for pedestrians outdoors to use colorful umbrellas.

Unfortunately, the reporters and demonstrators squatting in front of the apartment building still had to resist with their thinning hair, and at most wore raincoats. Because they have to work with cameras and signs in their hands.

When they saw a convoy of motorcades parked steadily in front of the apartment building, the reporters reacted before the demonstrators, threw away the simple breakfast, picked up the guy who was eating and rushed to the main entrance of the apartment.

The Bentley in the middle of the convoy was the car of the Hall family's gentleman, who recognized the license plate number.

In the chaos and noise, more than a dozen stout bodyguards in black suits poured out of the apartment building, and their movements were stiff and forcibly dispersed the crowd.

Then, a handsome-looking, slightly bookish young man in a formal suit walked out.

He stood condescendingly on the steps, quietly looking around the crowd, and several entourages next to him each held up a big black umbrella to surround him, which was comparable to the exaggerated appearance of a small country's *** visit, which made the atmosphere of the scene solemn.

"Mr. Hall, do you admit it...... Da Da Da!" As soon as a reporter who was the first to react opened his mouth to ask a question, the sound of submachine gun fire suddenly rang out at the end of the long street not far away.

For a moment, fear and screams swept through the scene, and reporters, demonstrators, and passers-by scattered with their heads in their hands.

Hall was unmoved, and the raindrops fell down the edge of the black umbrella, smashing on the ground and then splashing and dissipating into water vapor.

The perspective is pulled to a high place to overlook the scene, and several black umbrellas can be seen walking straight from the steps to the street convoy, on both sides, the neatly arranged bodyguards either hold their hands behind their waists or insert them into their arms to keep on guard.

On the periphery of the bodyguard queue, the crowd that had originally gathered around them quickly retreated and fled for their lives like the ebbing waves.

"Shit, it's good to be rich, it's so magnificent to go out of the house...... Maybe I should use the photo I took to participate in this year's Pulitzer Prize for Photojournalism, and I have the name of the photo in mind, "Moses Divides the Sea."

On the rooftop terrace across the street from the apartment, a photographer with a BBC badge on his chest repeatedly pressed the shutter of his camera.

Several colleagues next to him were busy shooting with long guns and short cannons, and they didn't have time to speak, but they agreed very much. On the roof of the building next door, a group of colleagues using cinematic crane cameras thought the same thing.

Although the pomp and circumstance of the son of the Hall family is indeed very imposing, but as for the high-end equipment report that is so exciting and transferred to shoot a geographical documentary?

"Moses divides the seas? Very good news headline, the camera crew will cut the film as soon as they return to the company, and this news will appear in today's noon news. The selection time of the photography team is until 12 o'clock tonight, and tomorrow all the print media under the company will give me similar titles on the front page."

One of the vice presidents wore a raincoat and put down his binoculars to assign work.

The photographer who complained while working put down his camera and put on a cigarette: "What does this boy want to do, is it worth your level of resources?"

"I don't know, maybe it's because I don't pay enough attention and want to make things bigger? It doesn't matter what he wants to do, the orders of the big guys, we just have to cooperate." The vice president shrugged as he looked at the slowly departing motorvoy.

The photographer spat out a smoke ring and looked at the gunman arrested by the police on the other side: "This person can't be instructed by him, right?"

"Ahem, ahem...... John, you're our best staff photographer, and I've got you here for today." The vice president coughed in smoke and said with a wave of his hand fanning the air.

John smiled and didn't dwell on it, yes, he's just a photographer. I'll go back to retouching the picture in a while, and adjust it in that direction?

…………

"I was shot in public for the first time after the incident broke out, and the news will spread throughout England tomorrow with the media machine in full swing."

AEC Corporate Office

In the room, Hall said with satisfaction as he played with his pen.

His plan was simple, he thoroughly stepped onto the stage and focused all the controversy on him personally.

Let the public have no time to pay attention to the privatization of British steel and the problems of the Hall family, and cut off all the pressure of public opinion from the political game on Helena's side.

As for how to do it, today's pompous appearance is the first step, and tomorrow, he will personally go to the London Police Station to report the story of Baron Alcott and the little boy.

Old-school aristocracy, underage, same-sex ...... These key elements, combined with the attention they have attracted today, are bound to seamlessly detonate public opinion.

And then ......

"Alcott's little lover won't have an accident, right?" Hall confirmed.

"His parents heard that we could help win the case and get at least £500,000 in compensation, so they wanted to call the police today." Luca sneered, "At present, my comrades-in-arms are close to protect their family, and there is absolutely no problem before they are handed over to the police station."

Hall bowed slightly, "Good. Where is Alcott's eldest son's family now?"

"In El Paso, Texas...... It's a border city with Mexico, and it's very chaotic, so it's easy to dodge and run away." Lukka thought for a moment and added.

Hall pondered for a moment, "...... Larry Gagosian, the art dealer, I remember his partner was a Texan, right? This job suited him well, and he sent Alcott's eldest son's family to Africa for a while by next week. Try to be polite, you may need it later."

"Do you want me to go there myself, I'm afraid they're unreliable." Lukka asked.

"He's going to get things done, there's a word in the financial industry called sunk costs."

Hall put down the pen, picked up a piece of paper with lyrics written on it, and the ink had not yet dried, and said with a smile, "You have a more important mission, and someone may actually shoot me in a few days."

"Dongdong." Brandon pushed the door open and walked into the office and handed over a document: "EMI Records has communicated with the composer and copyright owner, and you can go into the studio to record the song in the afternoon."

…………

Monday, weekday.

Hall sat in his office at AEC, admiring the front page cover of The Times, the most influential conservative faction, with a headline that references Old English words that specifically refer to the son of an unknighted nobleman—Childe Travel.

The overall composition of the cover is biased towards black and white, with a lead-gray sky, an embarrassed crowd, and a cold and calm "childe" himself. It has the temperament of a World War II SS youth army parade.

Perhaps it was the elaborate and perfect news material that stirred up the people's traumatic stress disorder against the evil old Germans, or perhaps it was too sensational to shoot a troubled aristocratic son in a political powerhouse like Westminster.

Not surprisingly, public opinion exploded.

Even more exaggerated than expected, media reporters from all over the continent and the United States were like sharks smelling blood, blocking the office building where AEC Capital is located, causing traffic jams at the nearby bank subway station during the morning rush hour.

Among them, the media in the United States is the most outrageous, and they directly sent news broadcast trucks.

On the bright side, in 1988, a British aristocrat with a fortune of $5/600 million was shot on the street on suspicion of discriminating against sports athletes. Especially a young genius, he just took advantage of the fire from the United States last year to rob tens of millions of dollars......

This simply poked the tip of the hearts of the American people, who like to watch this too much, and took out the fanatical energy of staying up late to set an alarm clock to chase the seventy-year-old prince and Princess Diana's *** play, and continued to pay attention to the development of events.

"It's out! He's out!" At the door of the office building, someone shouted hoarsely, for fear that the target would disappear in the next second.

Hall looked at the boom and ran over, countless times more exaggerated than yesterday, and quickly made a gesture of pressing down with both hands, and without waiting for the reporter to ask, he preemptively said, "I know what you want to ask. But I'm sorry, my lawyer told me I can't say anything until I go to the police station."

"The only thing I can tell you is yesterday's shooting

It may be related to a criminal case involving a young boy."

There was an uproar at the scene: "Hall, Mr. Hall, are you referring to the mastermind behind the shooting that was directed at you yesterday?"

"Alcott, Baron Alcott, I have evidence of his crimes, and I suspect he wants to kill him."

"Can you tell us more about what happened?"

"You know, he and I had a bit of an unpleasant falling out over the Leeds United takeover, and while doing commercial due diligence, I stumbled upon him for a long time with a young boy...... I don't know why he did it, it's unbelievable, he's seventy years old, and the little boy is the same age as his grandson......

"Do you have proof?"

"Of course, I'm going to report this to the London Police Station...... Sorry, I have to go...... Don't follow my car, I won't be interviewed, I don't want to take up public resources......

Hall's face was full of righteousness, and he was forcibly dragged into the car by the bodyguards. Seeing that he was about to run, the reporters got into the car and sent the news back to the company, and dozens of cars followed him to the police station in a mess.

Several police cars that had been prepared sounded their horns to open the road and escorted them throughout the process.

…………

Thursday, London, inside a safe house.

"Look at the stupid crimes of your old friend who helped the Hale kids get all the attention." An old man with age spots on his face said.

Chaplin was half-clasped on the couch, holding a silk scarf in his hand, "It was my mistake, I didn't clean up this flaw beforehand."

"No, I don't want to blame you. It was the stupid crimes he committed that led him to our side, and now he is being used by his opponents, which is reasonable. With the energy they have at their disposal, no matter how much they cover it up, as long as they want to check it, they will definitely be able to find it. Mr. Edmund Rocca once said, "Whoever walks through will leave a trace."

The old man chuckled, "We just didn't expect the Hale kids to break the game in this way, it's a funny little trick. Our allies are questioning, you know, a lot of devout ultra-conservatives who can't accept the crimes that Alcott has committed."

"We need the votes of those people, we need the support of those people."

"And as it stands, we are also at a disadvantage in the game at the Houses of Parliament, so we need pressure from public opinion."

Chaplin's spirit was tense, and the sweat in his palms soaked through the silk scarf: "What should I do?"

"Let your old friends be like knights, brave enough to admit their mistakes and stand trial. Don't struggle pointlessly, let things get over as soon as possible. The children of the Hall family said very well, don't occupy public resources, the public should pay attention to national affairs." The old man's tone was light.

Chaplin's heart trembled, and he stood up and bowed, "Thank you for your kindness and forgiveness."

…………

"CEO, entrepreneur, born in 1971...... Hugo, Hugo Hall...... Kill their wives and drink their blood......

In the studio of EMI Records, a small independent record label, Hall sings the lyrics into the microphone.

After singing it all over again, the producer standing outside the studio took off his headphones, pressed the horn and said, "Mr. Hall, the lyrics you wrote are about a capitalist who does all kinds of evil, oppressing ordinary people, and you lack a little feeling...... Don't treat ordinary people as human beings, extremely arrogant. But there must also be banter and self-deprecation.

Well, I suggest you think about what it feels like when you short U.S. stocks to harvest the market."

Hall closed his eyes and recalled the blood-splattered human body outside the New York Stock Exchange: "...... Come on, Hugo, you can do it...... What Soros and Buffett, amateurs get out of the way......

Half an hour later, Hall walked out of the studio.

The producer stepped forward with a strange expression and said, "The recording effect just now is very good, keep the effect just now, and we can officially record it tomorrow." The accompaniment copyright has been obtained, and the follow-up mixing vocals and the production of the master tape will be on the shelves next week. So now you can consider giving this song a title."

"Well, let's call it 'The CEO's Song.'" Hall said.

This song was copied by him

A saliva song that was particularly popular on streaming media in Europe and the United States in later generations, with the accompaniment of an old song from the late 70s, was refilled with satirical capitalist lyrics by talents on the Internet.

This is what he thought of, and the heat of Alcott's criminal eucalyptus has subsided slightly, and the hype has been hooked.

You say I'm a capitalist, okay, then I am.

In later generations, this song can become popular when it is sung by ordinary people; In the current situation, sung by him, a capitalist, each line of the lyrics has the strong aggression of FXXK, I don't know if it can be popular, but it must be very explosive.

Hall tightened his body armor and sat in the car.

"Boss, do you have to sing it yourself? I think it's safer to find a professional singer to sing with." Luka looked at every car on the road and sensed danger everywhere.

Hall picked up the thermos and took a sip of water: "It's not as dangerous as you think, it's a self-deprecating song." As long as the people gradually accept Alcott's crimes, my label of capitalist who does all kinds of evil will be reversed."

「…… But it's going to take a while." Luca's voice was deep.

Hall closed his eyes and rested and didn't respond, he was so tired from practicing singing in the past few days that he didn't have the strength to speak.

Speaking of which, learning various musical instruments since he was a child has given him a barely acceptable level of singing, but it's a pity that electronic sound repair technology is now in the ascendant, otherwise this song will be used to hit the charts and spend money to brush up on a few championships.

Then the debut of the son of the Hall family should be another explosive point......