September 21st, Fifth Avenue, New York.
On this day, Manhattan was shrouded in a sudden autumn rain.
Inside Argyle Mansion, all servants were ordered to remain quiet. Thick carpets absorbed every footstep.
Only from the master bedroom at the end of the second-floor corridor did occasional suppressed moans drift out, each one striking Felix's heart like a heavy hammer.
This man, who could control the federal business world with a flip of his hand, was currently pacing back and forth in the corridor like a bewildered recruit.
His tie had long since been pulled loose, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He held a cigar in his hand but forgot to light it, unconsciously squeezing it until the tobacco leaves crumbled and scattered on the floor.
"Boss, please sit for a while."
Frost stood in the corner and advised in a low voice.
"Dr. Camille is the best obstetrician in all of New York, and... we have the best equipment from Umbrella."
"I know."
Felix stopped pacing and glanced at the tightly closed oak door.
"But I'm still... Damn it, Frost, I feel like this is harder to endure than facing Vanderbilt."
"This is normal," Frost handed over a glass of warm water. "Every father goes through this."
From inside the door, Dr. Camille's voice could be faintly heard: "Hot water, more hot water. Bring the iodoglycerol, and mind the sterilization!"
Those were the rules set by Felix.
In an era without antibiotics, puerperal fever was the biggest killer of mothers.
He strictly required doctors and nurses to perform the most rigorous aseptic procedures: all instruments had to be boiled, all gauze had to be soaked in Umbrella's disinfectant, and everyone had to wash their hands.
Time passed minute by minute.
Outside the window, the rain fell harder, and the faint sound of thunder could be heard.
Felix looked at the wall clock; it was four in the afternoon. It had been five full hours since Catherine's labor pains began.
"Why hasn't he come out yet?" Felix scratched his hair somewhat irritably.
"Is something wrong? I'm going in to check."
"Don't... Boss, you can't go in," Frost stopped him. "That's the sterile zone you designated, and you haven't been disinfected."
Just as Felix was about to push Frost aside and force his way in—
"Waa...!"
A cry full of vitality pierced through the thick oak door, echoing through the corridor and drowning out the sound of the thunderstorm outside.
Felix froze.
The sound wasn't pleasant; it was even a bit piercing, carrying a protest and declaration to this unfamiliar world.
But to Felix's ears, it was more beautiful than a symphony.
A few minutes later, the door opened.
Dr. Camille walked out. She took off her mask; her face looked tired, but there was a smile in her eyes.
"Congratulations, Mr. Argyle. It's a seven-pound boy, and both mother and child are safe."
Felix felt his knees go weak. He let out a long breath, as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted.
"Can I see her?"
"Of course."
Felix rushed into the changing room to put on the sterile suit developed by Umbrella.
A moment later, he walked into the bedroom.
The room was filled with a faint smell of iodine and blood.
Catherine lay on the bed, her face pale, her hair soaked with sweat and clinging to her forehead. But her eyes were open and startlingly bright.
In the crook of her arm was a bundle wrapped in white cotton cloth.
Felix lightened his steps, walked over slowly, and knelt on one knee by the bed.
"Honey, you've worked hard." He held her hand and kissed it.
"It's alright, Felix. Come look at him, look at our baby." Catherine's voice was weak but full of pride.
Felix lowered his head.
It was a wrinkled little fellow with red skin, eyes closed, and a mouth that kept twitching.
He looked so fragile, so tiny.
But it was this tiny life that had his blood flowing through its veins.
Felix reached out a finger and gently touched the infant's small hand.
The small hand instinctively grabbed his finger, holding it very tightly.
A sensation like an electric current instantly pierced through Felix's heart.
In this time and space, he was a lonely transmigrator, a capitalist whose mindset was gradually becoming cold.
He possessed countless wealth, yet he always felt like an outsider.
But at this moment, that sense of alienation vanished.
This small hand firmly anchored him to this world.
"What is his name?" Catherine asked softly. "You haven't given the little guy a name yet."
Felix looked at his son, then out the window.
The rain had stopped, and a ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, shining on the spire of the Argyle Bank Building.
"Finn. Finn Argyle."
Seeing Catherine's look of incomprehension, Felix explained: "It's taken from the 'F' in my name and the 'in' in yours Catherine. He is a continuation of both of us."
"Finn..." Catherine repeated, showing a smile. "It's very nice. Although it sounds gentle and a bit feminine, it's also very powerful."
"It is indeed powerful, but our child doesn't need to be a warrior."
Felix looked at his son, his gaze incredibly gentle and firm. "Because as his father, I will clear away all obstacles ahead for him."
"He only needs to be a king."
...Downstairs, Frost was announcing the good news to Felix's core personnel who were in New York and had rushed over upon hearing the news, such as Jones and Hayes.
"Yes, that's right. Both mother and child are safe."
"A boy. The Boss named him Finn."
"Also, the Boss said that to celebrate the birth of Master Finn and the expansion of the Argyle Family, all employees of the subsidiary companies will receive an extra week's salary this month. Presidents, please arrange the relevant matters as soon as possible."
Besides these core members, the news of Catherine giving birth to the eldest son of the Argyle Family spread through New York like the wind.
In the Irish community of the Five Points, people poured into the streets, raising beers to celebrate that the "Argyle Family" had an heir.
On Wall Street, bankers were calculating what impact the birth of this infant would have on the stock market.
In Washington, President Lincoln personally wrote a congratulatory letter and sent a set of silver tableware and a rattle.
Farther south and west, the vassals who depended on the Argyle empire—Rockefeller, Gould, and Lawrence—all breathed a sigh of relief.
With an heir, this massive commercial empire had a foundation for continuation. This sense of stability was more precious to capital than gold.
Late at night.
Felix stood alone by the window of the nursery, looking at the sleeping Finn and whispering softly.
"Grow up quickly, child."
"The world outside is wonderful, and Daddy is building a playground for you."
A week later, just as the initial excitement of having a son had faded, Felix returned to his top-floor office in the Argyle Bank Building.
Becoming a father for the first time hadn't extinguished his ambition; instead, it made him even more greedy.
Because now, he wasn't just seizing things for himself, but for Finn as well.
At this moment, a man in an exquisitely tailored silk suit sat across from him.
Thomas Durant.
The Vice President of the Union Pacific Railroad Company and the actual operator of this transcontinental railroad.
Although the Union Pacific Railroad Company had been severely disciplined during the "Nebraska Conflict" a year ago—even being forced to cede a large amount of land and interests to form an alliance with Felix—
In this era where interests were paramount, there were no permanent enemies.
"Mr. Argyle, we need money. More money." Durant puffed on a cigar, his expression both greedy and anxious.
"Aren't the Union Pacific bonds selling well?"
Felix leaned back in his chair, twirling a fountain pen in his hand.
"Hayes told me that European investors are very interested in the western railroads. Especially after seeing us win against the South."
"The bonds are selling well, but the money is being spent just as fast."
Durant spread his hands, ash falling onto the carpet.
"Progress has reached Wyoming now. The terrain is getting more complex, and the indians are becoming more troublesome. And as you know, the Federal Government's subsidies are calculated by mileage. Sixteen thousand per mile for plains, forty-eight thousand for mountains."
"Oh? And what of it?" Felix looked at him with a playful glint in his eyes.
"I mean, this step-by-step way of making money is too slow."
Durant lowered his voice, a dangerous light flickering in his eyes.
"Besides, those gentlemen in Congress are auditing the books very strictly. They always want to know where every cent is being spent."
"So?"
"So, we need a middleman." Durant pulled a document from his briefcase.
"A middleman who can legally transform government subsidies and bond financing into our personal profit."
Felix took the document and glanced at the title.
Credit Mobilier of America
An imperceptible cold smile curled at the corner of Felix's mouth.
This was likely the protagonist of the notorious "Credit Mobilier Scandal" in history.
Durant's plan was simple:
The shareholders of the Union Pacific Railroad would establish this construction company.
Then, the Union Pacific Railroad would subcontract the road construction projects to this construction company at prices two or three times higher than the actual cost.
In this way, the subsidies issued by the Federal Government and the investors' money would flow into this construction company under the guise of paying "construction costs," eventually turning into dividends for the shareholders.
This was essentially hollowing out the Union Pacific Railroad and defrauding the Federal Government.
"That's a good idea, Thomas."
Felix set the document down, his tone appreciative.
"Moving money from the left hand to the right, turning public funds into private wealth."
"I knew you'd understand."
Durant breathed a sigh of relief, revealing a cunning smile.
"By resolution of the board, we invite you to join. Not just because you hold 13% of Union Pacific's shares, but because we need the cooperation of Lex Steel."
"What kind of cooperation?"
"Invoices," Durant said bluntly.
"Credit Mobilier needs to purchase a large amount of steel rails, spikes, and bridges. We need Lex Steel to issue... slightly higher invoices."
"For example, if the actual price of a ton of steel rail is $80, invoice it at $120. The extra $40, we split it."
Felix looked at Durant as if looking at a clown who was sending himself to the gallows.
Although this plan was highly profitable, it was full of loopholes.
In original history, this matter was eventually exposed, leading to the ruin of several congressmen and the Vice President, and Durant went bankrupt.
Felix wouldn't take such a risk for this small amount of money. But he could use this opportunity to control even more.
"Thomas, you're very bold," Felix said calmly, "but this plan has a fatal weakness."
"What?"
"Congress." Felix pointed in the direction of Washington.
"If someone audits the books and finds the construction costs are inflated, how will you explain it?"
Durant felt a bit guilty. "We... we can bribe the congressmen by giving them free shares."
"Giving free shares is leaving evidence." Felix shook his head. "Too amateur."
"I won't join Credit Mobilier, but Lex Steel can cooperate with you to adjust the prices."
Durant was overjoyed.
"And I don't need a share of that $40 in cash," Felix continued.
"Then what do you want?"
"Debt. For the inflated portion of the construction costs, Credit Mobilier doesn't need to pay Lex Steel in cash. You can issue promissory notes. Use Union Pacific Railroad's land bonds and future operating rights as collateral."
Durant was somewhat confused. What was this? Helping them cook the books but not wanting money?
"Mr. Argyle, you are..."
"I'm making a long-term investment. If one day the Union Pacific Railroad can't pay its debts due to 'poor management'... then as the largest creditor, I will have the right to take over the railroad."
"Of course, in the meantime, you can make money through Credit Mobilier. I only want those collateral documents."
Durant calculated in his mind.
This meant they could take the cash and leave the debt to the company. To him, this was simply a gift from God.
As for whether the railroad would be taken over by Felix in the future... that was a matter for the future. In any case, he would have already made enough.
"Deal!" Durant reached out his hand.
"Mr. Argyle, you truly are a generous gentleman."
"Pleasure doing business with you." Felix shook that greedy hand.
He certainly wasn't being generous.
Felix intended for the future, when this scandal erupted and everyone was scrambling to avoid it, to rightfully and legally take this great artery of America into his own hands.
This was called pre-planting a mine.
After seeing Durant off, Felix called for Bill Carter.
"Bill, railroad construction in the West is about to accelerate." Felix pointed to Omaha on the map. "Durant has the money now; he'll definitely push forward frantically."
"Then Saineng Minerals..."
"Follow them. Have the security teams follow the railroad. Wherever the tracks are laid, that's where the fences go up."
"And..." Felix remembered something.
"In Wyoming, have the indians been restless lately?"
"Yes," Bill frowned.
"The Sioux say the railroad passes through their hunting grounds. They've already attacked the surveying teams a few times."
Felix pondered for a moment. "That's a problem. Have the Action Department handle it."
"How should they handle it? Fight?"
"No, talk first," Felix said.
"Use Umbrella's medicine, along with Metropolitan beef and blankets, to negotiate. Tell those chiefs that as long as they make way, we can provide them with supplies for the winter."
"And if they refuse?"
"Then there's no other way." Felix's gaze turned cold. "For the sake of the progress of civilization, someone always has to make way."
"Have the Action Department bring machine guns. If necessary, they can show them some industrial-age etiquette."
In October 1865, New York was in no rush to enter winter as it had in previous years.
The maple leaves in Central Park were as red as blood, and the sound of horses' hooves on Fifth Avenue was denser than ever before.
The third floor of the Argyle Mansion, originally a guest room, had been transformed into the most expensive nursery in all of Manhattan.
Thick Persian carpets swallowed the sound of leather-soled footsteps.
Several landscape oil paintings collected from Europe hung on the walls of the room.
Felix stood by the cradle dressed in casual home attire, gently shaking a sterling silver rattle sent by President Lincoln.
"Ding-ling... Ding-ling..."
The crisp sound caused the tiny creature in the cradle to open his eyes.
Finn Argyle , the heir who was not yet a month old, had eyes as deep as his father's.
He didn't cry or fuss; he just stared curiously at the silver object, occasionally waving a chubby arm.
"The little guy is so quiet."
Catherine sat in a soft chair nearby, a wool blanket draped over her legs. Her complexion had become much rosier, and the exhaustion of being a new mother was infused with a gentle radiance.
"Doctor Camille says the boy is as sturdy as a young calf."
"Quiet is good." Felix extended a finger for his son to grasp.
"Only those who can be quiet can hear the most fundamental sounds of this world."
"You're teaching him those grand philosophies again." Catherine shook her head with a smile. "He's only a month old, Felix. Right now, he only needs to know where his bottle is."
"No, Catherine."
Felix leaned down, looking into his son's eyes, his tone becoming serious.
"Since this child was born into the Argyle Family, he is destined to care about more than just his bottle like an ordinary child. Take this cradle, for example."
He pointed to the cradle, carved from fine mahogany and inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
"It's made from precious wood from Pennsylvania—the very forest we control. This silver bell comes from the silver mines of Nevada, transported by Wells Fargo in our armored carriages. And this blanket is the finest top-tier weave from Lawrence's textile mills using the South's newest cotton."
Felix straightened up and looked around the room.
"What he is lying in isn't just a cradle; it's the entire industrial map of America."
Catherine sighed, but she was smiling. She beckoned to him, and Felix walked over to take her hand.
"But you'll spoil him like this."
"It's fine. I will teach him how to master these things." Felix kissed Catherine's forehead.
"By the way, I had Frost hire a wet nurse from Paris. Apparently, she used to serve at the Tuileries Palace; she'll arrive in a few days."
"Don't we already have a wet nurse? She's quite good, and she's a fellow Irish compatriot."
"But she isn't professional enough," Felix said flatly. "Finn needs the best. Everything must be the best."
While the two were talking, there was a soft knock at the door.
The rhythm was distinctive: two short, one long.
That was Frost's signal, meaning there was urgent business not suitable for public discussion.
"Come in," Felix said.
Frost pushed the door open and entered, holding a document in his hand.
He glanced at Catherine and the cradle, lowering his voice.
"Boss, sorry to disturb you. But... Durant's side sent over the mortgage documents. Also, something has come up in the South."
Catherine was a smart woman.
She knew when to let Felix return to that cold world.
"Go on."
She gave Felix a gentle push. "Don't keep business waiting. Finn and I are going to take a nap."
Felix nodded, tucked the blanket around her, and then turned to walk out of the room filled with the scent of milk and warmth.
The moment the heavy oak door of the study closed, the warmth on Felix's face vanished instantly.
He walked back behind the massive desk, transforming back into the monarch presiding over a commercial empire.
"Speak."
"Durant first."
Frost placed a thick file on the desk.
"Credit Mobilier is now operational. This is the 'Debt Acknowledgment' signed between Lex Steel Company and Union Pacific Railroad Company."
Felix flipped open the document.
The figures inside were staggering.
The first batch of rails supplied by Lex Steel to Credit Mobilier was invoiced at three times the market price.
"Mr. Durant is very pleased," Frost reported.
"Per your instructions, we didn't demand the inflated portion of the payment in cash. That is to say, while Credit Mobilier owes us two million dollars in material costs on the books, it doesn't need to be paid now."
"Instead..." Frost pointed to an attachment in the file.
"He signed this mortgage agreement on behalf of the company. The rights to the proceeds from one million acres of land along the Union Pacific Railroad in Nebraska, along with the rights to railway operating dividends for the next five years, have all been pledged to your Patriot Investment Company as collateral for this 'debt'."
Felix looked at Durant's flamboyant signature, a cold sneer curling at the corners of his mouth.
"Fool."
"He thinks he's gotten a bargain, canceling a two-million-dollar debt with a few pieces of paper and keeping the cash flow in his own pocket for embezzlement."
"But he doesn't realize that what he's mortgaged to me is the very life of this railroad." Felix closed the file.
"Once the railway operations incur a loss in the future, or if he can't pay when this debt matures... I can legally initiate foreclosure proceedings and seize those lands and the railroad."
Felix instructed, "Lock this in the innermost safe. This is the key to our future takeover of the Transcontinental Railroad."
"Yes, sir."
Frost put away the document, his expression turning solemn.
"One more thing, regarding the South."
"Silas?"
"Yes. The first autumn harvest at Oak Manor has concluded. The yield is high, twenty percent higher than expected. Those fertilizers and steel plows really worked."
"That's good news."
"But..." Frost paused.
"There was a problem when settling the accounts. Those Black laborers... they found that after working a season, they not only received no money but actually owed the company debt. So, some have started causing trouble. And some of the local poor whites seem to be inciting them."
Felix's fingers tapped lightly on the desk.
"Causing trouble?"
"Yes. A few ringleaders want to strike, and some even want to raid the warehouse."
Felix stood up and walked to the window.
"Edward, do you know why I gave Finn the best cradle?"
"Because you love him."
"Not entirely." Felix looked out the window. "Because if I don't give him the best, someone will try to take it from him. In this world, nothing belongs to you by right unless you have the power to keep it."
He turned around, his gaze icy.
"Tell Silas there's no need to be polite to those troublemakers."
"Since they can't understand the ledger, let them understand something else."
"Mobilize the 'Southern Security Militia Defense Corps.' I want everyone in South Carolina to know that paying back what you owe is a rule more sacred than the Constitution."
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I mistakenly posted this chapter mah bad