After roughly thirty minutes of driving, they arrived at their destination. It was a large restaurant, and looking at the building, David already knew he wasn't going to get his money's worth of food.
"Mr. Obi is waiting for you inside, sir," the driver said as he opened the door.
"I see, thank you," David replied before stepping forward.
Immediately, he saw four of the men appear before him, acting as his guards. David didn't object and allowed them to take their positions around him. With one of them leading the way, it wasn't long before David finally got to meet the man himself, Mr. Obi.
For some reason, though, he had expected an older man; Mr. Obi looked to be in his early middle ages, maybe around 30 to 35. David couldn't tell for sure, but the man looked fit and well-groomed for his age. Looking at him, David smiled.
"Mr. Williams, it's a pleasure to meet you," the man said as he offered him a seat.
"Thank you, oh, and here are your documents," David said as he passed the envelope back to him.
He had read and signed everything, so he had no fear of fraud. The eye bags weren't just for show, after all.
"You know, Mr. Williams, for things like this, it's always better to hire a lawyer to go through them for you."
"Sir, I go to a school with an entire section called the Faculty of Law... I don't just have access to one lawyer; I have thousands of them," David replied.
While he hadn't consulted the entire Law Department, he had asked a few of his friends there, who likely consulted others as well, so he definitely had access to many aspiring lawyers, most diligent in their work.
"You're more meticulous than I thought, sir."
"Thanks for the compliment."
"Since we're going straight to business, on behalf of the World Bank, I welcome you to our humble institute and will also inform you of your current situation in full detail," the man said as he immediately sat upright.
"Okay, then go ahead."
This was the command that led to the downfall of Mr. David Williams—a young man who didn't eat that morning due to excitement, and when offered food, ignored it due to the trillions of dollars in his new account.
David sat through the entire presentation on sheer will alone; even if he hadn't felt hungry initially, the meeting was taking far longer than he anticipated.
However, he learned a few things about his current situation: first, he was officially recognized as a Sovereign Entity, not only by the World Bank. Although the World Bank lacked such power, its Member States through the United Nations were forced to acknowledge him as a Sovereign Entity.
Of course, this was merely a title, one meant to signal caution in any dealings with him. David didn't blame them; he was far too rich that only the top nations to compete with him in terms of wealth.
Even then, it was all in assets, not in cash. From what he heard here, he could outspend every nation combined and his account would be barely affected.
"I think I understand what you're trying to say, but I don't understand the transparency act. Just because I'm wealthy, I should let myself get audited at any time by any company or nation just because they want to know how I spent my own money?" David asked.
It was a stupid clause in the list of restrictions. 99.9% of it didn't bother him since he didn't plan to interfere in politics, but the audits were another matter.
"We anticipated this, hence the audits are limited to deals over a hundred billion... any such deal naturally already requires audits," the man said with a smile.
"I see... but this title will bring more harm than good, won't it?" David asked.
He could already sense it—the Sovereign title meant he wasn't just a regular individual anymore. He was literally a 'one-man nation,' and he could see countries scheming to bring him to their side.
This wasn't what he wanted, but he had just received $3 trillion for free, so he couldn't really complain.
"As much as I hate to say it, it will. However, is there an issue that money can't solve now?"
"Old age, death, birth... it can't solve those," David replied, as the man's smile faded.
"But I get what you mean; I'm too rich to remain an individual, right?" David asked.
"It's precisely that, sir."
"Then I understand. My card is working now, right?" David asked.
"Yes, it is, sir. That also means that all your other accounts have been automatically closed. A list of your microfinance debts will be sent over soon."
"You're the head of my account manager team, aren't you?"
"I am, sir."
"Good. Then take care of it all at once. And I forgot to ask—must I move around with a full entourage?" David asked.
"Sir, your current status makes it impossible to move alone; you can lessen the escorts but not eliminate them entirely."
"Then at least remove the bikes. Their presence makes it look as though I'm some president of some country."