CHAPTER 69: ISN’T THIS A LITTLE TOO FAST?

Liam quickly steadied his breathing. His fingers trembled only slightly as he carefully placed the parchment back into the empty velvet-lined compartment, sliding it shut with a muted click.

Then he straightened his suit jacket, adjusted his cuffs, and turned back.

Mason and Nick stood a short distance away, their posture unchanged but their eyes sharper than usual.

Though they have no idea what he had seen, the air around him told them enough.

"Let’s go," Liam said quietly.

His voice was calm. Too calm, even.

The attendant appeared almost instantly, as if summoned by the subtle press of the bell Liam hadn’t touched. And his bow was deeper this time.

"Monsieur, if you would follow me."

They retraced their steps through the labyrinth of corridors. The security checkpoints unfolded in reverse order, each one acknowledging the platinum Geneva Crest card with soft chimes and green lights. Guards stepped aside with their gazes lowered in subtle deference.

At the biometric chamber, Liam felt the faint brush of cold air on his face as the heavy doors sealed behind them with a hiss. The sound reminded him of finality — as though the vault swallowed secrets and only rarely allowed them out.

Soon, they emerged back into the marble lobby.

As they entered the lobby, a man older than the others, his silver hair combed neatly back approached them. He carried a slim, leather-bound folio in both hands, held with solemnity.

"Mr. Scott," the man said smoothly, his French-accented English perfectly measured. "By custom, clients who access lineage certificates or historical instruments may elect to retain them personally... or to leave them under our perpetual custody."

Liam’s expression didn’t change as he asked, "And if I leave it here?"

"The original will remain in its protected compartment — immune to theft, loss, or damage. In its place, you will receive a Holder’s Attestation," the man replied.

He opened the folio carefully, revealing a single document: thick vellum paper embossed with both the Rothschild crest and the Geneva Crest seal.

"This attestation identifies you as the verified and current bearer. It is recognized within our network of private banks and circles of trust. Should you ever wish to exercise leverage, you need only present this to the right eyes. They will know."

Liam glanced at the document. The seals gleamed faintly in the lobby’s subdued light, and in its lower corner, an elegant code was engraved in platinum ink: XVII-GC-011 — the same sequence etched on his card.

"So this is my key," Liam smiled.

The older man allowed himself the barest ghost of a smile.

"Precisely. The bond itself never leaves these halls. That ensures stability. But with this..." he said and tapped the page lightly with a gloved fingertip, "...doors will open."

Liam considered it only briefly before nodding.

"I’ll take the attestation. Leave the parchment here."

"Very good, monsieur."

With practiced hands, the man slipped the document into a discreet black case of calfskin leather, slim enough to fit inside the inner pocket of a suit. He offered it to Liam with both hands, bowing slightly as he did.

Liam accepted the case, sliding it into his jacket pocket and the inventory.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

The attendant bowed deeper this time. "It is our honor."

"Merci, monsieur," the earlier attendant said softly as he returned the card with both hands.

Liam inclined his head slightly, slipping the Geneva Crest back into his inner pocket and into the inventory. He said nothing more as he crossed the lobby.

The massive doors opened soundlessly, and the sunlight hit his face again. He paused on the steps for a moment, breathing in the cool Geneva air, before Mason stepped forward to open the Maybach’s door.

He slid inside, while Mason and Nick took their places, and the car’s engine purred to life.

As they pulled away, the vault’s pale stone façade shrank behind them, vanishing into the calm order of Geneva’s streets.

But Liam barely saw any of it.

His gaze was fixed on the window, though his mind was elsewhere, as it was still reeling and processing the information the parchment burned its secrets into him.

It was already more than obvious that the parchment wasn’t an just an ordinary piece of paper.

It never was to begin with and it was miles away from being ordinary.

If it was, that man wouldn’t had said those things to him and given him an attestation.

As for the the true identity of the parchment? It’s an original 19th-Century bearer bond certificate.

Yeah, you heard that right. It a relic. A very special and an extremely valuable one at that

The bearer bond certificate was issued by the now-defunct European empire’s central bank, Austro-Hungarian Bank in 1880.

According to the information that flooded into his head, in the late 19th century, the Austro-Hungarian Empire needed vast amounts of capital — for war expenses, railways, industrialization, and to stabilize their currency.

And so, they issued sovereign debt (bonds) through dynastic banking houses belonging to the Rothschild family and peers like Baring, Warburg.

These houses acted as lead underwriters and bought the bonds and sold them to ultra-wealthy clients, aristocrats, royals, and industrial magnates.

Normally, sovereign bonds matures in like in 30 or 50 years. But these dynastic banks—the Rothschild and others negotiated "perpetual clauses" in some issuances.

This meant:

No fixed maturity date.

Governments owed perpetual coupon payments (interest), but the principal never legally expired.

These clauses were rare, but when present, they allowed the bond to remain a permanent financial obligation. Which means that no matter how many years has passed and no matter to what amount the bond has grown from accured interest, the governments or their successors must pay.

And Liam’s bond was part of those special bonds. And it now has a value of $28b.

But...

Yes, there definitely a but.

But there’s the problem of payment

By 1918 the Austro-Hungarian Empire collapsed. Successor states (Austria, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, etc.) were broke.

Most ordinary bondholders got wiped out or received near-worthless settlements.

But the perpetual bonds held in Rothschild vaults — like Liam’s — were never presented for redemption — because:

Paying them would require governments to cough up sums that could bankrupt them.

If the Rothschilds "demanded" repayment, it would destabilize the entire post-WWI and later WWII financial system.

So What Happens? Isn’t the bond useless as clients can’t cash them in, because even if valid, the scale is politically impossible.

No, it’s not useless. Rather, it became even more valuable.

There’s a saying that in life, the deepest, hardest-to-repay debts aren’t always financial. They’re favors.

Money can be repaid with money. Even huge debts like sovereign loans can be restructured, inflated away, or defaulted on. But a favour, once given, creates an invisible obligation that can hang over someone (or even a government) indefinitely.

To put it into context for the bond, governments (like the Austro-Hungarian Empire, France, Britain, etc.) issued bonds through Rothschild banking houses in the 18th–19th centuries because no one else had the capital, network, or credibility to finance them.

These bonds were sold to Rothschild’s network of ultra-high-net-worth clients — aristocrats, industrialists, and dynasties across Europe.

By buying the bonds, those clients weren’t just investing. They were funding wars, revolutions, railroads, and governments at their most desperate moments.

Many of those bonds matured decades ago. Some were honored, others defaulted on, and some simply expired in practice.

But here’s the catch: the act of buying them in the first place was a favour to governments.

Imagine an emperor or prime minister in crisis who needed immediate liquidity — and a Rothschild client’s wealth saved their skin.

Even if the "legal debt" expired, the political debt lingers. Because these clients essentially gave governments the ability to survive, expand, or win wars.

So, these clients essentially did governments massive favours by funding them when no one else would. The "debts" can’t really be repaid in money anymore, but they survive as favours owed.

And so, the special bonds held by those clients has become heritage leverage. They are kept in private vaults and whispered about in ultra-elite circles. They are used as collateral or political weapons in private negotiations.

But the thing is that even for those ultra-rich clients holding to something of extreme value this, they wouldn’t deal directly with governments because it’s too risky.

Instead, the Rothschild family themselves mediated — shielding the client while keeping the debt alive as a tool of influence.

And over time, this meant the bond stopped being a "debt" in practice and became a dynastic instrument of control.

Liam sighed as he went through all these information in his head and the implications.

So, my name is now at the same level at the Rockefellers, Waltons and those high level families.

It was really a lot to process for Liam. The safe deposit box content that he had been curious about, the parchment he had initially called a piece of paper has now made his name into a dynasty level name.

Just two weeks ago, he had only a total of $20 in his account. But from today onwards, his name will have the same influence as those extreme ultra upperclass families:.

All these in two weeks.

System, I know you said that you will make me the most powerful person in the world but isn’t this a little too fast?

[....]