Hogwarts: The Wizarding World's First Capitalist

Executives from Goldman Sachs, Morgan, Merrill Lynch, Lehman Brothers, and Bear Stearns, the largest investment banks on Wall Street, all came out in droves.

Carrying huge amounts of money and taking various means of transportation to the airport, New York's Kennedy International Airport suddenly received notifications from countless private planes requesting to take off.

The target location of the flight is extremely consistent, Santa Clara County, California.

In the airport's dispatch center, the duty manager that day was so busy that his head was about to smoke, and the sound of telephones ringing one after another was heard all around him.

And the sound of countless workers typing on keyboards.

"Boss, the investment manager at Goldman Sachs asked us to arrange for his private jet to take off immediately. He said he would only give us no more than 5 minutes."

"If it is too late, he will immediately arrange for people to withdraw the investment in the expansion and renovation of our airport."

"Boss, the investment managers at JPMorgan Chase also said the same thing, and they were even more ruthless. They said if you can't get it done within 5 minutes, they will do it."

"They are going to drive up international oil prices, and our operating expenses this month will double."

Several correspondents reported anxiously.

The duty manager's face was also covered with sweat. He wiped the sweat off his face desperately while speaking angrily.

"Are these guys crazy? We can't arrange for them to take off, but we can't arrange for them to land over there."

"What's flying in the sky are airplanes, not taxis. We can't let all the large passenger planes that have already taken off land in the farmland of the central agricultural state in advance."

"What the hell is this about driving up international oil prices? Are they crazy?"

In the past 10 minutes, both his personal phone and the phone in his duty office had been completely bombarded with calls.

Corporate executives, senators and congressmen at all levels whom he had never heard of or even met.

Many people called him and asked him to help arrange a certain plane to take off in advance.

At first he mistakenly thought that there might be an emergency somewhere, but as time went by.

He increasingly felt that something was wrong. In addition to local celebrities in New York State, there were also airport executives from Washington DC, London and many European cities.

They also called one after another, but of course they would not ask for their help in taking off the plane.

Instead, they asked for a runway to land their planes, which means the Atlantic Ocean.

Countless luxurious private jets, carrying almost all of the world's richest 1%, are flying towards him quickly.

Of course, this is definitely not the final destination. The final destination is the same as those who asked me to help take off the plane.

He had also heard some legends about Santa Clara County, California, and his son had also told him some stories about the place.

Computers, high technology, and the global Internet are the most frequently mentioned terms.

But middle-class people like him who grew up in America's golden generation are mostly not interested in these things.

In his impression, it was more likely that there was a group of young people there, wearing plaid shirts and with worrying hair volume at a young age.

Sitting in front of the computer screen every day, tapping away on the keyboard, he never believed that such work could change the world.

To this day, the feeling is so strong that he may not be able to guarantee changing the world.

But what he could guarantee now was that the money from the entire Western world was pouring into that small place like a storm.

"Supervisor's phone call!!"

Just as he was thinking, a communicator's voice sounded behind him.

"Didn't I tell you that I won't answer anyone's calls right now? Are you asking me to answer this call so that I can leave early and give you a vacant position?"

The duty manager turned angrily and looked at the communicator.

The communicator was startled, but he did not put down the receiver. He looked at his leader helplessly.

"Boss, you have to answer this call. We can't afford to offend the person on the other end of the phone."

"Can't afford to offend?" The on-duty steward was almost laughing out of anger. "Just within the past minute, we rejected 13 congressmen."

"With two federal senators and numerous calls from financial tycoons, is there anyone in the United States that we can't afford to offend?"

"Could it be possible that the person on the other end of the line is the President of the United States?"

"That's right! It's a call from the White House." The operator was almost crying, listening to the urging of the familiar voice on the other end of the phone.

He was about to kneel down to the supervisor in front of him, and the on-duty manager was also in a state of complete confusion at this moment.

He stretched out his hand and pointed at the other person with trembling hands.

"What did you say? A call from the White House."

"That's right," the communicator replied crying, "and if I heard it correctly, it should be the president's voice, and he has already started cursing."

The duty manager felt like his brain was about to crash, as he was an ordinary person who had worked in the American aviation industry for more than ten years and finally got a small supervisor position.

He had never thought that one day he would receive a call from the president, and now he finally figured it out.

Why didn't any of the company's top executives show up at such a tense time? It's obvious that they want to take the blame.

No matter what he does now, whichever plane he allows to take off first, he will inevitably offend a large group of people later.

It looks like this job is completely done today.

After figuring this out, the duty steward, who was already disheartened, was about to take the phone from the communicator.

At this time, another classmate also ran over with a telephone in his hand, stumbling over and saying while gasping for breath.

"Bill Clinton, the governor of Arkansas, also called and said his plane was already being refueled."

"Bill Clinton, why does this name sound so familiar?" The duty steward looked puzzled.

"Of course I am familiar with it, Boss. Have you forgotten what day it is today? This is the final stage of the presidential election."

"The ballots will be counted on November 11, so the president and the Democratic presidential candidate will come to New York State at the same time."

"This is an important swing state, and they just collided today."

"Does anyone of you carry a gun?" the duty steward asked calmly.

"What??"

"What???"

The two communicators asked at the same time in confusion.

"Let me ask you two, do you have a gun? Or go down and borrow one from the security guard. This is no longer a work issue."

“One who is the current president and one who, according to the polls and my own voting, is likely to be the next president.”

"Calling me at the same time and asking me to help one of them, is it a choice between making me choose or killing me."

"If that's the case, I can't do it on my own."

The duty steward had completely lost all hope in life.