Chapter Three: Seven Minutes, Seventy Million

They offered to guarantee my recovery and pay my full salary if I sign an image-and-data license.” The card bore no words, only a hollow black circle. A London address appeared on the back. Su Man reached Portdam that night, still wearing the clean gray suit of a finance lawyer. “You owe me an explanation. Three years ago, a false medical destroyed you. Now you diagnose myocarditis from another country?” “Look at this first.” Lu gave her the card. Her expression changed. She had once reviewed an acquisition for Oracle Sports. The same circle had been buried as a watermark inside an attachment. The project was called the Zero List: projected future cash flows for two hundred European players aged sixteen to twenty.