Genius Grandson Of The Loan Shark King

The true king of Mexico was Carlos Slim.

“Nice to meet you, Chairman Slim. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Slim was considered one of the ten richest people in the world, even based only on his publicly known wealth.

“Haha. Let’s go inside first.”

With a relaxed smile that matched his generous build, he led me in.

His residence was located in one of the [N O V E L I G H T] wealthiest neighborhoods in Mexico City, an area known for its relatively strong security. The exterior of the mansion was lavish beyond words.

But in contrast to the glamorous exterior, the interior was unexpectedly modest—almost austere.

We passed through a living room filled with antique furniture and arrived at what seemed to be a reception room.

“Disappointed?”

“What would there be to be disappointed about? The antique furniture gives it a sense of weight and dignity. I actually like it.” fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

“You noticed that. Most people pretend to be disappointed.”

There was an easygoing confidence in his expression. So he likes testing people.

I decided to play along.

“Those people don’t know how to spend money. It’s a shame they cling to superficial luxury and fail to see the essence.”

“For someone so young, you have a very grounded perspective. Please, sit.”

We sat facing each other. The moment I settled in, he spoke.

“I was surprised by your sudden request. When someone called the ‘reclusive investor’ asks to meet, expectations naturally rise.”

“So you’ve heard of me.”

“How could I not? I heard you personally decide all investments at Dream High.”

“That’s exaggerated. Most investments are handled by CEO James. I only step in occasionally.”

“But wasn’t it all your strategy that brought Wall Street’s old guard to their knees?”

“That part is true. I was lucky.”

I said it lightly, and Slim burst out laughing, slapping the armrest repeatedly.

“Haha! You overturn Wall Street and call it luck? If they heard that, they’d collapse from rage.”

“It’s the truth. A series of coincidences led to that result.”

“Excessive humility is rude. Once might be coincidence—but repeated coincidence is skill.” freeweɓnovel.cøm

So what is he really getting at?

Beneath that relaxed face, I wondered what kind of blade he was hiding.

“Especially your profits during our country’s currency crisis. That was impressive.”

So he wanted to bring that up.

But the money we made then didn’t come from Mexico—it came from Wall Street and other investors.

“Wasn’t the biggest beneficiary during that crisis you, Chairman Slim? You acquired numerous distressed companies.”

“I was lucky too. I don’t predict—I decide based on circumstances. That’s why I rarely invest in stocks. Ah, I also remember you getting involved first in a company I had my eye on.”

“Oh. My apologies.”

I had interfered with his attempt to acquire The New York Times.

“No need. If I had offered better terms, they would’ve chosen me. I didn’t agree to this meeting to dwell on the past...”

His expression shifted instantly.

“Let’s get to the point. Did you request this meeting because of the drug cartels?”

“Yes.”

“...Do you believe those ridiculous rumors—that I’m backed by cartels?”

“No. Of course not. Cartels supporting you? That’s impossible.”

There were conspiracy theories like that—claims that cartel money funded his aggressive acquisitions.

“Many people believe it. You don’t?”

“Those people just want to tear others down.”

“Then why did you want to meet me?”

I crossed one leg and met his gaze.

“Chairman, I understand you love Mexico.”

“That’s right. Even when other wealthy people fled to the United States, I stayed.”

“If things continue like this, the chaos caused by the cartels will never end.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? You can kill them endlessly and they still won’t disappear. As long as there’s demand in the United States, cartels will exist.”

He was right.

As long as U.S. demand exists, cartels won’t disappear. In fact, the more pressure they face, the stronger and richer they become.

The U.S. couldn’t legalize drugs either.

So if eradication wasn’t possible, control was the next best option.

“I understand that. Are you familiar with a country called Korea?”

“Of course. I’ve even met the chairman of Ilseong Group.”

That name made me smirk slightly—but it wasn’t important right now.

“Korea is called a drug-clean country.”

“What? You mean drugs don’t exist there?”

“No. Drugs never disappear. As long as there’s demand.”

“Then how can it be called ‘clean’?”

“Because control exists.”

I explained how Korea had transitioned—from a trafficking hub to a tightly controlled system.

“If you can’t eliminate it, someone has to control it. In our case, one organization does.”

“I’ve heard of it. The group that rules Korea’s underworld.”

“Yes. They strictly control smuggling and distribution.”

“That’s still illegal.”

“It is. But because of that, drugs are nearly inaccessible to ordinary people.”

Since Chunha Group took control, any significant movement became impossible without passing through them.

Even foreign organizations that tried to enter were easily dealt with.

“Korea’s law enforcement is also strong. It’s one of the safest countries in the world.”

“I’ve heard you can walk freely at night.”

“But Mexico isn’t like that. If this continues, within ten years, cartels will grow beyond the government’s control.”

Slim didn’t argue. He simply hummed in agreement.

But fear alone wouldn’t seal a deal.

So I revealed my hidden card.

“Do you know who created the organization that unified Korea?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“I did.”

“...You? Are you some kind of mafia boss?”

I smiled faintly.

“Labels are meaningless. Where there is light, there is shadow. I simply chose to control what couldn’t be eliminated.”

“...And why would criminals listen to you?”

“Because their ultimate goal is money. And money overrides everything. Just like cartels don’t threaten you.”

Cartels ignored governments—but not Slim.

They couldn’t bribe or intimidate him.

He had more money than all of them combined—and wielded immense legal power.

If threatened, he could destroy them through financial, political, or indirect means.

“That may be true,” he said. “But they don’t follow me either.”

“You don’t care about them. But how long will that last?”

Silence.

“For now, they fear you. But what happens when they control the country?”

“...What are you proposing?”

“Use my method. The problem isn’t just the cartels—it’s that there are too many. Unite them under one structure. And you control it.”

“You’re asking me to become the godfather of criminals?”

“And yet you’re already seen that way.”

“The U.S. already distrusts me. You want me to give them a reason to destroy me?”

“Only if you get caught.”

He scoffed.

“You underestimate them. They could count how many pairs of underwear I own if they wanted. I won’t give them leverage.”

“Then use a proxy. You already maintained ties with cartel leaders imprisoned in the U.S., didn’t you?”

“That was before I knew who they were! Do not speak carelessly.”

He reacted sharply.

“This isn’t a bad offer. If you leave things as they are, the blade will eventually turn toward you.”

“...Even so, no. The U.S. is more dangerous than the cartels.”

Then I played my final card.

“What if the United States allows it?”

“...What?”

“If the U.S. turns a blind eye—would you do it?”

Silence.

“I’ll handle everything complicated. Negotiations, structure, execution.”

Still, he said nothing.

“...You won’t have to do much,” I continued. “I’ll meet the cartel bosses myself. You just lend me your name.”

“My name?”

“Yes. I’ll do everything. I’ll package the result and hand it to you.”

His expression softened.

“What exactly would I have to do?”

“Arrange meetings. And make it known you’re backing me.”

“...I see.”

“When it’s over, even the U.S. won’t be able to interfere.”

“Can I trust you?”

“Don’t trust me. Trust yourself. I don’t trust you either.”

“...Fine. I’ll arrange meetings. Sinaloa might take time—but I can introduce their second-in-command.”

As expected, he had direct access.

“In that case, I’ll cover all expenses.”

“Money doesn’t matter to me.”

“Still. I insist. But promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“If the U.S. comes after me, I’ll deny everything.”

“That’s fine. I only need your name.”

He extended his hand.

“Keep that promise.”

I glanced at it, then shook it.

“You’ve just found yourself a very good partner.”