Chapter 143: A Shift in Mindset

The global jewelry market boasts an annual sales volume of roughly two hundred billion US dollars. Within the world of "I Am Legend," Li Daniu scavenged the accumulated inventory of New York City amassed over many years. Although numerous private collections lay hidden within personal safes, Li Daniu lacked the time to locate each one individually. Yet, the jewelry stored in major banks’ vaults and customer safe deposit boxes alone was already immensely valuable.

Among these were also the stockpiles Li Daniu had gathered from New York’s premier jewelry stores.

A rough estimate placed the total market value of this collection at over twenty billion US dollars.

However, unloading this twenty-billion-dollar trove was by no means a simple task.

Though Li Daniu had sold all the diamonds, even amassing over two billion dollars in wealth, this batch of diamonds barely made a dent in the overall market; the global market could absorb them within less than a year.

But twenty billion dollars’ worth of jewelry accounted for about a tenth of the annual global sales. Flooding the market all at once would not only shock the market but also make it impossible to sell everything quickly.

Even if jewelers were willing to buy, they would inevitably depress prices to allow time for sales, a scenario Li Daniu found unacceptable.

Thus, the only viable option was to continue selling in batches.

Yet even batch selling presented a grave problem: where on earth did Li Daniu procure so much jewelry?

For an ordinary person, two billion dollars would be staggering wealth, but for the truly wealthy, it was not extraordinary and unlikely to attract much attention.

Tuvalu was, after all, a country. Accumulating such a hoard when diamonds and similar valuables were less prominent was understandable and barely cause for suspicion.

However, should Li Daniu unveil even more valuable pieces—many of which had never before appeared in this world and carried immense worth—someone would surely pry.

Li Daniu had established a company named TC Jewelry, but it employed only one technical advisor, lacking even a designer or craftsman. Even if Li Daniu claimed these jewels were self-produced from raw materials he purchased, no one would believe him.

Besides, if he acquired raw materials, where exactly did he get them? Such excellent materials would surely have attracted the attention of seasoned jewelers long ago; could Li Daniu have bought them all without anyone noticing?

Presenting ten tons of gold might not raise eyebrows—shipwrecks were common, and with luck, one might even salvage such a haul.

But displaying only priceless finished jewelry was inexplicable, even if one had salvaged every shipwreck worldwide.

Li Daniu’s jewelry was fashioned with modern craftsmanship, yet most shipwrecks dated from World War II or earlier. Who in modern times would ship such priceless jewels by sea?

“Is this fortune doomed never to see the light of day?” he wondered.

In his office, Li Daniu wore a troubled frown, his heart heavy as he thought of the batch of jewelry he had hidden at sea. This torment was worse than living as a beggar beside a mountain of gold.

Just then, a knock sounded, and Burns entered.

“Your Majesty, the necklace you previously consigned has been sold. After deducting commission, the auction house owes us seventeen million US dollars, which should arrive within three days.”

“What use is seventeen million?” Li Daniu barely saw seventeen million dollars as anything; Tuvalu’s monthly welfare expenditure alone was thirty million. What good was this small sum?

Yet he was curious about who had spent over two hundred million dollars on a single necklace.

“Who bought it?”

Burns shook his head. “This was a private auction, so the buyer’s identity remains unknown.”

Damn, how mysterious.

Li Daniu muttered a few remarks, then suddenly realized—of course! The auction! How had he forgotten? He could sell this batch through auctions.

Previously, he had planned to wait for the new Tuvalu to be completed before holding auctions to attract wealthy buyers. But though the new Tuvalu was unfinished, there was no reason he couldn’t use auctions now to sell jewelry and raise funds.

If buyers could remain anonymous, so could sellers. As long as the money ended up in his pocket, what did it matter? Legalizing the money was a trivial matter—laundering black money was even easier than legitimizing auction proceeds.

Moreover, if seller information were leaked by the auction house, he could simply acquire an auction house himself. Owning one would provide countless methods to manipulate operations.

Auction houses weren’t expensive either. Even the world’s most renowned houses were worth at most around two billion dollars in market capitalization. Li Daniu didn’t need full ownership—partial stakes or partnerships would suffice. Using the auction house’s prestige, he could openly auction off all his jewelry.

Of course, many details remained: how to advertise, where to hold auctions, which auction houses to collaborate with or acquire.

Yet these challenges paled beside the prospect of pure profits exceeding twenty billion dollars.

“Burns, prepare information on the world’s most famous auction houses. I’ll need it.”

Burns was accustomed to Li Daniu’s wild ideas and immediately agreed, dispatching his subordinates to collect the data.

By evening, Li Daniu had compiled information on every auction house worldwide.

The largest auction house remained Sotheby’s, also known as Sotheby, the first to introduce seller deposits—meaning when Li Daniu handed over a necklace, the auction house paid him a deposit based on valuation. This system propelled Sotheby’s to global prominence.

Li Daniu reviewed the valuation—about 2.1 billion US dollars. This was remarkable, as auction houses rarely owned substantial fixed assets; many rented venues for events. Such valuation relied almost entirely on reputation.

Other auction houses either matched Sotheby’s with valuations in the low billions or focused on specific countries, with far lower values.

Yet a problem emerged: major auction houses had multiple shareholders. Aside from public shareholders after listing, key shareholders numbered in the dozens, scattered worldwide.

How on earth could Li Daniu acquire them all? Negotiating one by one would take forever.

Another issue was that even the largest auction house, Sotheby’s, had annual sales totaling only six to seven billion dollars, combining Asia, Europe, and other regional branches. Most auctions featured antiques and artworks; jewelry was rare.

After all, the old saying went: “Gold shines in troubled times; antiques flourish in times of peace.” In peaceful eras, jewelry collectors were far fewer than those of antiques or art.

Moreover, major auction houses held regular auctions rather than sporadic events whenever a prized item appeared.

“This isn’t what I imagined,” Li Daniu frowned. He’d been an underdog in his previous life, never caring about such details.

Now, trying to acquire an auction house to sell his jewelry seemed unlikely to yield the results he desired.

Auction timing and the market itself posed obstacles. How could he maneuver?

“Damn it, I’ll just set the schedule myself. I’ll create the market myself.”

After these experiences, Li Daniu’s mindset had quietly transformed. Where once he would proceed cautiously and slowly, now he was willing to take risks—if necessary, he would forge conditions to make it happen.

Taking this step marked a change in how Li Daniu thought; one might even call it a spiritual elevation.

(To be continued.)