Everett, son of a megabanker

Everett is the son of one of the rich mega bank billionaires responsible for the economic meltdown and millions of foreclosures. Everett had rejected the power elite culture, but he spent most of his time on extreme sports – until he chanced upon a remarkable adventure that completely transformed his consciousness. After that, his mission became the destruction of the world of his father.

Part 1 of Everett’s story, excerpt from the book:

Everett was in Japan at a secure resort for the super-elite with his brother, his father, and his father’s business associates. It was a high-class place for partying, eating, and relaxing. In many ways, it was like being aboard a luxury cruise boat; the guests mostly stayed within the confines of the secure zone with its mansions, restaurants, meeting halls, gazebos, theaters, golf courses, swimming pools, massage parlors, and gambling halls. Only occasionally did they make shopping forays into Tokyo. All the buildings at the resort were built in a modern Japanese style; plain, simple, and natural, highlighting the beauty of exotic wood and polished stone.

It was winter; the lawns and Japanese-style gardens were coated with ice and gilt by the morning sun. Everett stood on his balcony and looked up at forested heights. He breathed deeply of the pine-and-snow-scented air and felt exhilarated. He decided he had to get away from the resort for the day.

Everett was a white American in his late twenties, handsome and athletic, with light brown hair and blue-gray eyes. He had a penetrating gaze and the bearing of the privileged elite. He was the younger of two sons; his brother was Edward. Edward was destined to follow in his father’s footsteps; Everett was the maverick of the family.

Their father was the infamous Cyril Magnus, owner of the biggest bank in the world and one of the notorious engineers of the credit default swap. Cyril was tall, handsome, and fit. He was tan with white hair and light blue eyes that could be described as cold, even icy. He had a powerful presence.

At the moment, Cyril was with his business partners, drinking, gloating, recounting conquests, and laughing. Everett walked into the parlor where they were and sampled a few items from the food table. He observed the men long enough to determine that no business would be conducted that day. Cyril was oblivious to Everett’s presence. Everett left and walked out through teak-and-marble halls, to an area where drivers with assorted luxury cars were waiting at beck and call.

He chose the most modest-looking car available. The driver was seated inside, reading a large textbook. On the seat beside him was a spiral-bound notebook crammed with notes; other study-related items were scattered on the seat and the floor.

‘Hey,’ said Everett. The driver was startled and dropped his book. ‘Am I disturbing you?’ asked Everett.

‘Ah—no,’ said the driver, flustered. ‘At your service! You want a ride?’ He got out to rush around the car and open the door for Everett, but Everett said, ‘It’s okay, I got it.’

‘Where you want to go?’

‘Someplace different. What’s your name?’


‘Okay, Kawasaki, I want to go to places where you don’t usually take tourists.’

They drove for a while in silence. Kawasaki took Everett to the usual tourist attractions.

Everett said, ‘I’ve seen this. Take me to where people live. I want to see real-life neighborhoods.’

Kawasaki said, ‘Okay, sir. Uh, do you mind if we go to the university?’

‘No, I’d like to see the university. Let’s go.’

A little later, Kawasaki asked, ‘Uh, do you mind if I meet my study partner at this café?’

‘Not at all.’

They went in a large, crowded café on the edge of the campus, busy with students. They sat down next to the windows and ordered hot tea.

‘What are you studying, Kawasaki?’ asked Everett.

‘Social sciences.’

‘Do you have to turn in something?’

‘Uh, yeah, with my partner. A paper—it’s due tomorrow.’

‘Do you have to meet with him now?’

But suddenly, Kawasaki was focused intently on the entrance as two young men entered. A look of panic crossed his face.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I didn’t think Itsuo would bring that jerk when we have serious work to do.’

Two young men, one with hair that stood straight up in a punk style and the other with a more collegiate appearance, approached. They sat down with Kawasaki and Everett without invitation.

‘Hey, Kawasaki,’ said the one with the punk hair. ‘Who’s your friend, here? Oh, don’t tell me, he’s one of the 1% guys you drive around, huh?’

Everett said, ‘Do you mean me? Oh-ho, well…I’m trying to make the best of it. My name’s Everett,’ he said, introducing himself. ‘And you are—?’

‘Toby,’ he smirked impudently.

‘Toby, huh?’ said Everett, good-naturedly. ‘How improbable.’

‘And you, Mr. 1%. You couldn’t be more patrician,’ said Toby.

‘Patrician,’ pondered Everett aloud. ‘Your vocabulary is killing me.’

There was a tense moment of silence; then Toby and Itsuo burst out laughing and Everett grinned. Kawasaki looked relieved.

‘So what are you gentlemen doing today?’ asked Everett.

‘We’re helping Kawasaki here cheat on his exam,’ said Toby.

Kawasaki looked appalled.

‘And what are you studying?’ asked Everett.

‘Anthropology,’ said Toby.

‘Oh, there’s good money in that.’

‘You damned Yankees are only interested in money.’

‘Well, for me it’s mainly a cure for boredom.’

‘Yeah, what do you do when you’re bored, Yankee 1% man?’

‘Well, I just got back from a month of helicopter skiing in the Himalayas.’

‘What does that mean, you jump out of a helicopter with your skis at the top of Mt. Everest?’

‘Well, yeah—something like that.’

‘That is crazy.’

‘Perhaps so.’

‘It’s amazing what you can do when you have so much money you don’t know what to do with it all.’

‘Shh,’ interjected Kawasaki.

‘And before that?’ asked Toby.

‘Well, before that was underwater spelunking.’

‘Like in Australia, where some fools went scuba diving in underwater caves, and got lost and died?’

‘Yes, that was the exact one.’

‘So you’re a real crazy guy,’ said Toby. ‘We like crazy stuff, but you have to be really crazy to be an anthropologist.’

‘No kidding,’ laughed Everett. ‘That’s a well-kept secret.’

‘Well, it doesn’t get on the list of things to do for the super-rich 1% crazy guys. But when you’re an anthropologist, you go live with the natives for up to a year. And you have to live like them,’ said Toby.

He continued. ‘One thing they do is chew up a hallucinogenic root. They chew it up and spit it into a big pot and let it ferment for a few days. Then they drink it. And you have to drink it with them.’

Itsuo laughed uproariously. Kawasaki looked serious. Everett was grinning.

‘They have a custom where they take your lip…’ Toby illustrated by pulling his lower lip out and pointing to the inner part, ‘and they put a round disc in here, bigger and bigger ones to stretch it out. They stretch it out to the size of a plate. And if you don’t do it, they’ll kill you. Then, when you get back to civilization, your lip hangs down to your chest.’

Itsuo was now laughing so hard, he practically fell out of his chair. Even Kawasaki was grinning in spite of himself.

‘They do things like tie their dicks to sticks and roll them up and wear them like that,’ said Toby.

By now, they were all laughing.

‘Come on, you’re exaggerating,’ said Everett.

‘Yeah, well, anthropology wouldn’t be something for you, Mr. 1%,’ said Toby. ‘It would be too rough.’

‘Do you know somebody that is doing this kind of anthropology now?’ asked Everett.

‘Oh, yeah,’ said Toby. ‘Our pal, Hiro, is out there right now with Takuya and the indigenous people in the South Pacific. Itsuo here is supposed to take Hiro’s place next week, but Itsuo’s brother is going to have his wedding during the time Itsuo is supposed to be out there with the aborigines.’

Suddenly, they all fell silent.

Kawasaki blurted out, ‘No, no, no way. Stop what you’re thinking. It’s against the university rules. You’ll get Hiro and Takuya and Itsuo in big trouble. You’ll mess up the study. They’ll get kicked out of the university and never be allowed to come back. It would bring shame on all our families. It would be better to die.

Kawasaki was panting. More silence.

Toby said, ‘Well, if Mr. 1% paid enough, maybe it would be worth it.’

‘I’d like to do it,’ said Everett.

‘No!’ howled Kawasaki.

‘Your father will kill me,’ he said to Everett. ‘Let me live.’ He was becoming hysterical.

‘Do you know who my father is?’ asked Everett.

‘Mr. Magnus,’ said Kawasaki.

‘Right,’ said Everett. ‘It would just be another one of my adventures. He doesn’t give a shit, I assure you. He’s got insurance for everything.’

Everett turned to Toby. ‘So, how much?’

‘Okay,’ said Toby, ‘it would have to be enough to live comfortably even if we all got kicked out of the university. How about 10 million dollars for each of the five of us: me, Hiro, Kawasaki, Itsuo, and Takuya?’

‘Oh, no,’ said Everett. ‘Make it half of that, 5 million.’

‘8 million,’ countered Toby. ‘C’mon, Mr. 1%, a million doesn’t go as far as it used to.’

Everett laughed. ‘6 million,’ he said.

‘Okay,’ said Toby, ‘6 million, but if we have to rescue you, or you make any trouble, or screw up the study in any way, you triple it for each of us. 18 million for each of the five of us if you screw up.’

Everett thought about it for a minute. ‘Okay.’

Kawasaki let out a wail of anguish and covered his face with his hands.

‘I’ve never been in so much trouble in my life,’ he said. He got up and started to wander away.

Toby grabbed him by the pants and pulled him back down into his chair.

‘So, how do you want to write up the contract, Mr.1%?’

‘Call me Everett.’

–End of excerpt.

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