The three-dimensional starlight map projected from the Astral Perpetual Spirit-Tourbillon hovered in the center of the salon. It pointed straight down through Geneva’s granite bedrock toward a crimson vault three hundred meters beneath Lake Geneva.
Lin Mo adjusted his silk cuffs and studied the pulsing red marker labeled Sub-Level 9.
Three hundred meters under the lakebed, Lin Mo mused with deadpan calm. No wonder the regular Swiss banking inspectors never found where the missing charity money went. Baron von Lombard-Vane built himself a literal underground dragon’s lair.
Beside him, Lukas traced the glowing blue elevation lines in the air with a steady finger. “Chairman Lin, I recognize that shaft design! Ten years ago, Baron von Lombard-Vane forced my grandfather to build an automatic pressure-lock mechanism for a secret private elevator behind the main vault. Then he erased my grandfather’s memory of the floor number with dark incense!”
Before Baron Victor Julian von Lombard-Vane could lunge forward to smash the tourbillon, Shen Qiaoqiao stepped into the center of the aisle holding a thick stack of holographic audit ledgers and a glowing golden tribunal seal.
The Smiling Iron Abacus beamed from ear to ear as her ninety-one-point golden halo shone under the salon lights.
