"Doctor! May I ask you, what exactly is my mother's illness? Can it be cured?" The doctor looked out the window, his brows furrowing tightly as he sighed and said, "Miss Dairena, since you're so deeply concerned about your mother, I'll be direct with you. Your mother has a rare form of cancer—uncommon even worldwide—where a toxic tumor has developed inside her chest and is progressively spreading. Immediate surgery is required. If surgery is not performed, your mother will likely survive only one week. Of course, if the surgery is successful, she could live for up to one year. What do you think, Miss?" "Doctor! We must have surgery right away! Perform it now! I absolutely want my mother to live a full, healthy life! My mother has endured so much hardship since childhood, all to raise and support me!" Miss Dairena is a devoted daughter. In the United States, such filial piety is not common. Though Miss Dairena is a genuine American beauty, she shares with our male protagonist, Gao Liang, the same deep respect and devotion to her parents. "However—" The current financial crisis is also making it difficult for the hospital to operate! We need a sum of...” The doctor's voice was somewhat subdued. “How much?” Daimeng asked promptly. “One million eight hundred thousand dollars!” The doctor said the figure clearly and deliberately. At the same time, before Daimeng could react, he added, “This amount has been unanimously approved by the hospital's administration during their meeting—it's already the minimum we've set.” Daimeng had been genuinely stunned upon hearing one million eight hundred thousand dollars—hadn't they just said a few days ago that only one hundred thousand dollars was needed? How could the figure have increased by eighty thousand? However, now her mother was in critical condition and required immediate surgery. As long as her mother lived, they would endure no matter how difficult it became. So she firmly replied, “Doctor! Proceed with the surgery! I'll find a way to raise the funds!” After saying this, Daimeng hurried out of the hospital and headed swiftly toward the headquarters of Redwood City Art Electronics. In a spacious and bright office at Electronic Arts' headquarters, Pete sits in his leather armchair, holding a cigar, his head held high, stretching his arms and legs after finalizing a new design proposal for the company—one he's confident will succeed. Ha! This time, I'm going to rake in a solid profit! Lost in his reverie, the office door suddenly rings. "Come in!" Pete says. The door opens. Ms. Demona enters—her eyes like sapphires, her face oval and graceful, her golden hair flowing, slender and refined. Yet beneath her beauty, there's a touch of melancholy in her gaze. Pete had anticipated that look all along. I knew you'd come to my office again, I knew you'd find me—Pete, ever strategic and resourceful, especially when it came to a beautiful woman already stirred by anticipation. One day, I'll have you gently slip into my bed, at my mercy, and you, Demona, will be mine—my woman. Peter was still daydreaming when Daphne approached him, her face sorrowful, her head bowed, yet exquisitely beautiful—truly, a poignant beauty. "Wow! Here comes my lovely Daphne!" Peter's eyes, half-lidded, narrowed into a slender slit. But to please his beautiful guest, he offered his usual flattery: "Miss Daphne, is there anything I can assist you with?" Indeed, these words deeply touched Daphne. After all, she particularly needed money to treat her mother. "Peter! I'm so sorry to bother you! My mother needs surgery—$1.8 million—and we're still short by $100,000!" Daphne had $30,000 of her own, plus the $50,000 in Peter's credit card account, totaling $80,000—just falling short of the $1.8 million goal. "Nothing at all difficult," Peter said. Peter pretended to be generous, but inside, he was feeling chilled. Good heavens—asking for one million dollars at this very moment, when the financial crisis was deepening and the company’s finances were strained. Even though I’m a major shareholder, I can’t draw funds at will. Every withdrawal of ten thousand dollars has to be approved by the CEO, Kenneth. Kenneth has already gone to New York and hasn’t returned yet. I’m only acting as interim CEO, but I still have to call him for approval. This is the company’s policy—tighter financial controls, all in response to the crisis. Dai Mengna was under tremendous pressure. She would be incredibly grateful to anyone who could help her—no matter who it was. "Thank you so much, Peter!" Dai Mengna sincerely thanked him. "Dai Miss! Who are we and who are you? Do we really need to be thanked?" Peter acted as if he were very polished. Dai Mengna smiled warmly, and the two exchanged a friendly "See you tomorrow," then went their separate ways. A once-great company, which had hired 300 people and enjoyed tremendous success, has now laid off all of them. The company's doors are locked, and Qiao and Ye Qian can only find temporary work at a friend's place in the Chinatown of San Francisco. Our "I Want to Become a God" Group's overseas subsidiary has truly gone bankrupt. You're dead! I'm going to wipe out your Chinese enterprises completely and make you dream of international commercial dominance! Only the United States is the true commercial powerhouse, and I am the undisputed king of commerce! You're shining like a spotlight—still not good enough to pick up my shoes! I'm going to make you completely obsolete!