Chapter 899: The Rat Tunnel

Thirsty…

Hungry!

So much pain he had gone numb.

Lime, tied to a chair, had swelling in both arms. After being motionless for so long, he could barely feel them anymore.

Maybe it was luck, or maybe some unseen force still wanted him alive. He began clenching and unclenching his fists.

The changing pressure in his palms started forcing blood to circulate again. As it flowed through his arms, a sharp, scalding pain shot through them—like boiling water had been poured on his skin.

He didn’t know if this was normal, but he knew he had to keep doing it.

He was just… so thirsty. He wanted some water.

He licked his cracked lips and struggled to raise his head, looking around the dark room, wondering—was this where he would die?

He never imagined that one day, because of a legitimate job, he’d die here in a pitch-black room.

“Is this the last stretch of my life?”

No cinematic flashbacks, no highlights of life’s pivotal moments—just consciousness sinking, like falling asleep.

His thoughts slowed, the pain in his arms faded, and all the discomfort seemed to dissolve, aligning with the overwhelming urge to just sleep.

And if he fell asleep, everything would be okay.

Just then, the lights in the room suddenly turned on. Lime was startled. Was this heaven?

He looked up again—and saw the one person he least wanted to see.

“I don’t care how much it costs or what it takes—save him!”

The CEO of EveryMoment had called Lynch multiple times, even tried contacting him through others, but none of it worked.

Back when he had money, even his farts would earn praise—people would say how strong they sounded, how healthy he must be.

But now, facing the assault of capital giants, he hadn’t even spoken yet, and people were already covering their mouths and slipping away behind his back.

Cold? Warm?

Just helplessness.

Things were worse than before. His brother warned him: if he lost EveryMoment, he should be prepared to be hunted by assassins for the rest of his life.

Warlord power rests on two things: wealth and weapons. All of EveryMoment’s profits, apart from shareholder dividends, had gone into this foundation.

Anyone who investigated would know—EveryMoment, outside the military, was the single largest buyer of supplies and arms. No exceptions.

Every year, they purchased and shipped millions—sometimes tens of millions—worth of materials to Marilo. These arms were the cornerstone of one warlord’s control.

Without EveryMoment, the CEO’s brother—the major warlord in Marilo—would have to end the current balance.

Without continued income, he couldn’t maintain a tacit stalemate with the other warlords. He had no potential or sustainable growth left.

He’d be forced to launch a war with an uncertain outcome, rather than watching and waiting until Marilo was ready for unification.

The CEO was at the end of his rope. He didn’t even have the funds to fight off the hostile takeover.

Whether it was the poison pill plan or a stock buyback, both were money-burning strategies. If the company couldn’t buy back shares before the takeover parties did, those shares would fall into enemy hands.

This was inevitable. No one gets rich in front of others without risk. And under Federal financial regulations, once a hostile takeover begins, it can’t be stopped easily.

It would be a brutal financial war—but they were flat broke.

Worse yet, the banks didn’t help—they stabbed him in the back.

They converted previous loans into equity—a bank’s favorite trick.

When lending to major companies, banks often include clauses allowing them to claim shares instead of repayment when the debt matures.

Of course, that only happens when the bank has the upper hand.

When EveryMoment first entered the Federation, they were weak. They needed a prominent local financial player to back them—hence, the deal.

The bank had already made back its money many times over in dividends. The executive in charge had raked in bonuses and was now allowed to buy bank shares—he had become a shareholder.

They all thought the partnership would go on peacefully. No one expected the bank to trigger the clause at this moment.

They demanded full repayment of past loans and interest—giving a strict deadline. If not met, they would sell their shares to whoever they deemed fit.

It was shameless extortion. They were even calculating compound interest on the debt. By now, the sum was astronomical.

When things were good, everyone was all smiles.

Now that things turned bad, everyone turned their backs. The shift forced the CEO to rein in his temper.

His only hope now was Lynch. At the very least, those advising him believed so.

Compared to other financial groups or banks, Lynch had just made tens of millions. With his own liquid assets, he could easily pull together over a hundred million in cash.

That was more than enough to save EveryMoment.

And forming a partnership with Lynch could help them regain the leverage lost in the pirate fiasco.

He needed someone to get through to Lynch—and Lime, right in front of him, was clearly a good choice.

“Save him!” the CEO growled, grabbing a doctor by the collar.

The doctor didn’t care. As long as the money came through, the guy could pull his hair and he wouldn’t bat an eye.

Next, the medical team demonstrated with professional precision why high-quality treatment is inevitably expensive.

Over two hours of treatment cost the CEO more than 100,000, including two injections of high-grade medication worth several thousand each, as well as various equipment usage fees.

Two hours later, Lime regained consciousness.

His memory stopped at the moment the lights came on in the room. He had already forgotten seeing the CEO’s face afterward.

He had actually lost consciousness by then, so none of it stayed in his memory.

“What happened to me?”

Lime looked confused. “Was I injured?”

How should one respond?

The CEO quickly came up with an explanation. “You fainted. I took you to the hospital. They said you were just dehydrated.”

Lime licked his lips, noticing the dry, peeling skin. He bit off a piece with his teeth and tore it away, oddly satisfied.

After a moment of silence, he asked, “Am I free now?”

The CEO nodded. “Of course. I sincerely apologize for the misunderstanding between us.”

“I’ve investigated everything. This matter has nothing to do with you or Mr. Lynch. It was entirely our mistake.”

Lime thought he’d be furious, but hearing the CEO’s words, he surprisingly didn’t feel as angry as he expected.

He even smiled a little. “As long as the truth is clear.”

But it wasn’t fine at all. The CEO stepped closer. “I must apologize for my recklessness. I’ll compensate you with one-thousandth of the company’s shares.”

One-thousandth. That generous offer caught Lime off guard.

While many still fixate on percentages, major conglomerates had already subdivided shares into thousandths and even ten-thousandths.

Take the Duncan family, for example. Their shares were in ten-thousandths—too wealthy, too many members. Evenly split, each person held only a fraction of a percent.

The same applied to large corporations. Among the six major federal banks, each had tens of thousands of shareholders. Share distribution was already as fine as one in a hundred thousand.

At EveryMoment’s current valuation, one-thousandth equaled at least a million.

More importantly, he could now receive dividends annually from this stake—and if necessary, sell it off for cash.

As long as EveryMoment didn’t collapse, it was like being financially supported for life.

If taking a beating led to this kind of reward, Lime suddenly felt it hadn’t been so bad after all.

“Then I thank you for your generosity, Mr. CEO.”

The CEO smiled. “I’d like to apologize to Mr. Lynch in person. Would you be willing to introduce me?”

…Later that day, Lime made the call.

He introduced himself. He’d spoken to Lynch before, so the maid recognized him.

With a faintly amused look, Lynch stepped into his study to take the call.

“I thought you were kidnapped, and was wondering why they hadn’t sent a ransom demand—then you called me.”

Lynch cracked a joke. He knew exactly where Lime had gone and how—it was just a joke.

After all, no one likes to feel they’re being watched, even if they aren’t.

Lime chuckled a few times; he didn’t sound too bad. “Some things happened that I don’t fully understand myself. The only thing I know for sure is—I broke a leg, but I got over a million out of it.”

“Sounds like a fair trade. If a leg’s worth a million, starting tomorrow we won’t need to import beef cattle anymore.”

That line carried a double meaning. Lime didn’t catch it—maybe not even one layer of it.

Finally, after a pause, he said, “Boss, the CEO of EveryMoment wants to meet with you.”