The sound of steam whistles on the Hudson River pierced through the morning mist of Manhattan.
Carnegie stood outside the brass revolving doors of the Empire State Building.
His hands were shoved deep into his overcoat pockets, fingers tightly clutching the train ticket stub from New York as he swallowed hard, feeling as if something were stuck in his throat.
He thought back to when he was in a Pittsburgh tavern, where he had mocked Argyle in front of all his steel industry peers, calling him a Wall Street vampire who only knew how to play money games.
But now, he stood here.
Like a beggar about to freeze to death, standing outside the door of a landlord's oven.
Charlie stood behind Carnegie, carrying an old leather bag filled with financial statements.
"Boss, are we still going in?"
Charlie's voice trembled slightly.
The cold-eyed security guards at the building's entrance made this foreman, who had spent his life by steel furnaces, feel a chill down his spine.
Carnegie grit his teeth.
"Go in."
He stepped forward and pushed open the heavy revolving door.
The lobby floor was paved with polished marble. Behind the central front desk, several clerks were organizing documents.
Carnegie walked up to the desk.
"I'm looking for Mr. Argyle."
Carnegie tried his best to keep his voice steady.
"Please tell him that Andrew Carnegie from Pittsburgh is here to visit."
The receptionist looked up at the stubble-faced, haggard man. No disdain showed on her face; she simply opened the visitor log in a businesslike manner.
"Do you have an appointment, Mr. Carnegie?"
"No. But I have an extremely important matter regarding a multi-million dollar business deal." Carnegie pressed both hands onto the counter.
The clerk picked up the internal telephone on the desk.
"Please wait a moment..."
The top-floor office of the building.
Felix sat behind his desk, reviewing the Atlantic Steam Power Company's shipbuilding budget for the second half of the year.
Frost pushed the door open and walked in, his expression somewhat peculiar.
"Boss, a message from the first-floor reception. Andrew Carnegie is downstairs and says he wants to see you."
The hand Felix was holding the fountain pen with paused for a second.
He looked up, and after a brief moment of surprise, Felix let out a low laugh.
The laughter echoed in the spacious office, carrying unmistakable mockery.
"Who? Carnegie? You mean that Scottish tough guy in Pittsburgh who shouted about smashing Lex Steel with steel rails?" Felix tossed the pen onto the desk.
"Yes, Boss. Reception says he doesn't look well and has his production supervisor with him."
Felix leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced and eyes half-squinted.
Carnegie wouldn't show up for no reason; something must have happened.
Perhaps it was because United Trust Bank went bankrupt and the British capital chain broke. Now, those suicidal price-cutting contracts in Carnegie's hands had become a death sentence.
But that might not be enough...
It was likely that Old Morgan's subordinate did something to make Carnegie feel endangered.
"Old Morgan's people have quite the unrefined appetite," Felix shook his head.
If Old Morgan were handling it personally, he would surely slowly starve Carnegie to death before appearing in the guise of a savior.
But that Cavendish clearly lacked such patience.
Perhaps he pushed too hard, directly driving this cornered Scottish wolf into his rival's yard.
"Boss, should I have security throw them out?" Frost asked.
"He rejected your acquisition offers twice before and even attacked General Electric in the newspapers."
Felix looked out the window.
He suddenly recalled the words he had spoken to President Ulysses S. Grant in The White House Oval Office a few days ago.
"If the state is your shareholder, when those future politicians want to break you up, they'll have to ask the national treasury if they agree first."
That was Grant's fear of monopolies.
Felix was an absolute monopolist.
Lex Steel now held nearly sixty percent of the market share for railway infrastructure on the East Coast and in the Midwest.
The remaining forty percent was occupied by nearly a hundred large and small steel mills across America, among which Carnegie's steel mill was at the forefront.
If he swallowed Carnegie's steel mill now...
Then the American steel industry would truly be on the verge of total monopoly.
An absolute monopoly is the most perfect form in business, but it is the most fatal target in politics.
If there wasn't even a decent competitor in the market, Washington politicians would surely use 'dismantling Lex Steel' as a campaign slogan to win votes.
In other words, anti-monopoly legislation would fall sooner or later.
So he needed a shield.
An independent enterprise that nominally competed with Lex Steel and attacked it in the newspapers, but was actually under his secret control.
Carnegie, the famous anti-Argyle Vanguard across America...
...was the most perfect shield.
As long as Carnegie's steel mill was alive, as long as he was still selling rails on the market...
...Washington politicians couldn't say the American steel industry was completely monopolized by Lex.
"No, let him come up," Felix decided.
"Have him wait in the fourth-floor reception room first. Tell him I'm in a meeting. Let him wait for two hours."
Felix picked up the shipbuilding budget on his desk.
"If he wants my money, he must first learn how to follow the rules."
There was no fire lit in the fourth-floor reception room.
Carnegie and Charlie sat on cold wooden chairs.
For two whole hours, no one brought them even a glass of water.
Staff members carrying documents hurried past in the hallway from time to time, but no one gave them a second look.
Carnegie watched the wall clock.
With every tick of the hand, the sense of humiliation in his heart intensified.
He knew Felix was doing it on purpose; he was grinding down his pride.
"Boss, why don't we just leave?"
Charlie really couldn't stand being ignored like this.
"He has no intention of seeing us; he's humiliating you."
"Shut up, Charlie." Carnegie stared intently at the clock.
"Even if he asked me to kneel in this hallway right now, as long as he can write the check, I'll kneel."
Exactly twelve o'clock.
Frost appeared at the door of the reception room.
"Mr. Carnegie, the Boss has time now. Please follow me."
Carnegie stood up abruptly.
Because he had been sitting for so long, his legs were somewhat numb.
He straightened his wrinkled overcoat and followed Frost to the elevator.
The double doors of the top-floor office were pushed open.
Carnegie walked in.
He saw the man sitting behind the desk who controlled most of North America's resources.
Felix did not stand up to greet him.
He didn't even look up, merely flipping through the reports in his hand.
"Sit," Felix uttered a single word.
Carnegie walked to the desk, pulled out a leather chair and sat down, while Charlie stood behind him holding the leather bag.
"This is our third formal meeting, Andrew." Felix finally put down the reports, his gaze landing on Carnegie's haggard face.
"The first time, at the Pennsylvania Railroad Company, I invited you to continue your tenure. You told me you wanted to be your own boss."
"And then, at the Lex Steel Plant. You said a Scotsman never works as an underling for others."
Felix leaned forward, hands interlaced and propped on the desk.
"Now is the third time. You didn't make an appointment through those people downstairs and ran straight into my building."
A cold smile curled at the corners of Felix's mouth.
"Tell me, Mr. Carnegie, what do you have to convince me not to have security defenestrate you?"
Carnegie did not flinch under Felix's oppressive gaze because he already had no way out.
"I can give you Old Morgan's trump cards in Europe."
Carnegie did not waste words and directly threw out his chips.
"I know the bankruptcy of United Trust Bank was deliberate, and I know three ocean liners belonging to the Vanderbilt Family have docked in Philadelphia. They are filled with gold and bearer bonds. That bastard Cavendish took Old Morgan's cash and went to Pittsburgh to find me, wanting to use three million dollars to forcibly acquire my steel plant in full."
Felix's eyes narrowed slightly.
Although he had guessed that Old Morgan had transferred his funds,
the exact location and method provided by Carnegie completed the final piece of the intelligence network's puzzle.
"Continue," Felix said impassively.
Carnegie turned his head to look at Charlie.
Charlie immediately placed the leather bag in his hand on the desk and opened it.
"Here are all the railway supply contracts signed by Braddock-Carnegie Steel Works in the past half month."
Carnegie pushed a thick stack of documents toward Felix.
"To seize Lex Steel's market, I pushed prices below the cost line. These thirty-plus contracts, totaling one hundred thousand tons of steel rails, are all loss-making deals."
Carnegie stared at Felix.
"If you don't help today, I will be bankrupt tomorrow. Then Old Morgan will buy my blast furnaces for three million and use the anthracite they brought from Britain to continue executing these low-price contracts."
"By then, Lex Steel won't be facing a Carnegie with a broken capital chain, but a monster steel plant backed by the cash flow of several great families of the British Empire, designed specifically to crash the market without regard for losses."
Carnegie pressed both hands onto the desk.
"Mr. Argyle, you don't just need the intelligence in my hands. You need me. More importantly, you need me to continue sitting in that position in Pittsburgh to block Old Morgan's dirty hands from reaching into the steel industry for you."
Felix looked at the loss-making contracts on the table and let out a short, cold laugh.
"You've certainly calculated your own utility value clearly, Andrew. Using my money to fill the hole while helping you keep your position as the boss."
Felix stood up and walked to the liquor cabinet.
"How much money do you want?" Felix asked.
"Two million dollars in cash," Carnegie stated the figure.
"One million to settle the suppliers' coal payments and the loans owed to United Trust. The other million will serve as a deposit to pay the liquidated damages for those railway contracts. I must tear up those low-price contracts and pull the prices back to the market line."
Pouring two glasses of whiskey and walking back, Felix placed one of them in front of Carnegie.
"Of course, no problem. I can even give you three million," Felix said, picking up his own glass.
Carnegie's heart pounded wildly; he knew he had won the gamble.
But Felix's next words were like a bucket of ice water poured over his head.
"But I won't lend you this money in the name of Lex Steel or Imperial Bank," Felix took a sip of his drink.
"I will have a hidden subsidiary of Patriot Investment Company make a strategic investment in Carnegie Steel Company."
Felix looked at Carnegie.
"Two million dollars in exchange for a forty-nine percent stake in Carnegie Steel Company. You still retain a fifty-one percent controlling interest. You are still the chairman. Nominally, you are still that independent entrepreneur who criticizes Lex Steel's monopoly every day in the newspapers."
Carnegie frowned.
"Forty-nine percent? What's the difference between this and the conditions Old Morgan previously demanded? Both are diluting my control."
"The difference is that Old Morgan wants to swallow you whole. Whereas I need you to continue being a biting mad dog," Felix sat back in the leather chair.
"And there is an absolute prerequisite for this investment."
Felix's voice became extremely cold.
"To get this money, you must first thoroughly purge Old Morgan's capital from your company."
Carnegie was stunned.
"Purge it? Old Morgan and others jointly hold forty percent of my company's preferred stock; that was the price for the interest-free loan he provided me back then."
"Then dilute it," Felix provided the solution.
"I will have Patriot Investment Company's financial team go to Pittsburgh. Taking advantage of the balance sheet crisis you're facing with bankruptcy, they will call an emergency shareholders' meeting."
"Propose issuing new shares at the meeting to save the company. Old Morgan's United Trust Bank is currently undergoing bankruptcy liquidation. Even if Cavendish has gold in his hands, he wouldn't dare to openly use it to subscribe for new shares, because that would lead to a seizure by the New York Court."
"As long as he gives up the subscription, this side will fully absorb all the new shares. Through a capital increase and share expansion, Old Morgan's shares will be diluted until he is completely kicked out of the board of directors."
Felix pointed at Carnegie.
"That is my condition, Andrew. I want you to personally wield the knife and throw that British partner, who once gave you charity and now wants to annex you, out of your factory. I want London to know that if you take my money in America, you must gnaw the bone clean."
Listening to this vicious financial strangulation plan, a layer of cold sweat broke out on Carnegie's back.
This wasn't just a contest of capital.
This was asking him to submit a blood-stained letter of loyalty.
Once he did this, he would become a complete traitor to Old Morgan.
He would be bound to the Argyle Family's war chariot.
But did he have a choice?
He picked up the glass of whiskey on the table and drained it in one gulp.
"I agree," Carnegie put down the empty glass.
"I will call the shareholders' meeting and kick Cavendish out. But if we issue more shares, my stake will also decrease."
"I know you still have money. Cooperation requires sincerity, doesn't it?"
Felix pressed the intercom on the desk.
"Have Tom come up," Felix ordered.
A few minutes later, Hayes pushed the door open and entered.
"Boss."
"Take Carnegie to your office to draft the investment agreement. This afternoon, transfer the first bridge loan of five hundred thousand dollars into the Pittsburgh account," Felix instructed.
"Then arrange for your financial team to follow Carnegie back to Pittsburgh. Teach him how to play the game of capital increase and share expansion at the shareholders' meeting."
Hayes glanced at Carnegie and nodded.
"Let's go, Mr. Carnegie."
Hayes made a gesture of invitation.
Carnegie stood up, and Charlie followed behind with the leather bag.
When he reached the door, Carnegie stopped and turned back to look at Felix.
"Mr. Argyle, aren't you afraid that I won't follow through after I get the money?" Carnegie asked.
Felix didn't even look up.
"In this country, no one can take my money and not do the job."
The door closed.
Felix leaned back in his chair.
Having reclaimed Carnegie as a shield, Old Morgan's layout in the steel industry was temporarily dismantled.
Meanwhile.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
On the second floor of an inconspicuous import-export trading company.
Clive Cavendish sat at his desk, his face so gloomy it looked like it could drip water.
Standing before him was his trusted assistant, Bates, who had just rushed back from Pittsburgh.
"Are you sure? Carnegie and that foreman of his got on a train to New York?"
Cavendish's voice was very low, like an enraged beast.
"Absolutely sure, sir."
Bates wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"The informant at the train station saw them buy the tickets with his own eyes. Moreover, I just went to the steel plant; their financial director is not there. The land deeds and official seals have also been taken away."
Cavendish slammed his fist onto the desk, making the ink bottle jump.
He had been careless.
Truly careless.
He thought that stubborn Scotsman would rather go bankrupt than go to beg Argyle.
But he forgot that in the face of absolute survival, any hatred can be masked.
"If Carnegie told Argyle about our trump card of a full acquisition, and if Argyle really chooses to inject capital at this time..."
Cavendish paced back and forth in the office, cold sweat trickling down from his temples.
He knew how serious the consequences were.
Mr. Morgan's entire layout in the steel industry would be ruined because of his premature move to force a takeover.
"Prepare the carriage, go to the Telegraph Office."
Cavendish stopped in his tracks, gritting his teeth.
"This matter can't be hidden anymore; I must immediately plead for forgiveness from London."