"Boss. I've set up the relief organization, as you instructed."

— Good work, Robert.

"Not at all. I'm simply in awe of how you always stay several steps ahead of me, Boss."

Robert meant every word.

A young man from the East who'd seized an enormous fortune with foresight no one could match.

Even in the bedlam of futures and currencies, he'd posted staggering returns.

Even Robert didn't know what the boss had made.

Over a hundred tax-haven shell companies had been passed along and shut down.

The returns of the various investment vehicles set up in America easily topped hundreds of billions of dollars.

The entities had been split into countless pieces that looked unrelated, then linked back up. They moved like a network of cells.

Not the CIA, not the FBI, not even an IRS special investigations team could have traced them.

If the boss died, the entities were autonomous enough to live on and keep moving on their own.

— Watch the relief organization's funding, spending and books more closely than any accounting or audit standard requires. If any crooked intent gets into the machinery of relief... that can't happen.

"Of course. I plan to build a standing audit system with top-tier accountants and specialists."

The boss has to be an alien.

By American counting, the boss wasn't even twenty yet.

And yet there wasn't a gap anywhere in how he handled things.

Most twentysomethings who strike it rich are too busy spending to do anything else, but the boss had even founded a global relief organization.

A big-hearted man who knew how to give back as much as he made.

He'd given jobs to good, capable people kicked out of Wall Street too.

Robert was truly grateful.

Like a god who'd come down to save losers like him.

His thinking went beyond anything someone his age could manage.

He sat in one place and saw straight through the way the world was moving.

Robert was living a second life, thanks to the mysteries of the East he'd tasted firsthand.

Every night was a hot one with…