Chương 355: Chapter 341 - Interlude 34

The meeting room was of the usual quality, designed to impress without being excessive, with real wood furnishings, understated high-quality decorations, and artwork that would cause a lesser man to pass out at the price. People wore clothing worth the cost of a small apartment. Perhaps even more… The room was lit by hidden lighting embedded into the architecture, filling it with a soft, even glow. A holographic projection hovered over the table, displaying dozens of high-fidelity screens.

Data streamed across them – some showing real-time analytics and others playing recordings in a continuous, synchronized flow. Around the large wooden table—polished to perfection—sat a dozen people. All were straight-faced and upright, their posture rigid with discipline, a mix of men and women who hid their thoughts behind impassive expressions. Except for one person. At the head of the table sat an old man in a comfortable white shirt, collar open.

He leaned back in his comfortable office chair, wearing a small smile. His gaze moved across the room, lingering on no one for long. Occasionally, he glanced at the projected data before returning his attention to the people around the table. This lasted for several minutes, with nobody brave enough to interrupt him. Behind him, mounted on the wall, the Astran company logo loomed over the room. Finally breaking the suffocating silence, the old man spoke.

"So," he said, eyes still on one of the floating screens.

"What is this I've been hearing about unreasonable expenditures in our Ferabor project?" Only silence followed his question. He exhaled sharply and turned his attention fully to the table.

"Come on… If I have to listen to my granddaughter complain, the least you can do is give me a proper report." He leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. His tone shifted – from playful to serious – in an instant.

"Tell me what we're looking at before I actually have to deal with that annoying little shit myself." Finally, a man cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Well, sir… as you know, our representation in Ferabor raised some… unwise requests," he said quietly. The old man scoffed.

"Yes. Because, despite my instructions, someone decided to send the shallow end of the gene pool there." He paused, taking a small breath. His furrows tightened just a bit.

"I've already handled the people responsible. Now we're left dealing with the financial fallout."

"Could we pursue them for breaking the contract?" one of the women asked.

"Or exploiting a loophole?

"Loopholes we insisted on?" he shot back.

"No. In this case, we must swallow our pride and focus on the future." He sighed.

"Unfortunately, I have to admit that little shit got us good." Then his eyes hardened and stared at the people sitting at the table.

"However, he's not the focus of our discussion today. Where do we stand with Ferabor?" This time, there was a bit of shuffling around the table before a man spoke up.

"Aside from that… unpleasantness, the plan is progressing, sir. The buildings are complete. Personnel – after the update – are performing well. Currently, we are on the path to achieve what was projected."

"Hmm… Any problems we can expect to crop up in the future?" the old man asked. A few heads shook around the table.

"Our contact outlined the risks clearly. Our research aligns with theirs. Assuming their results hold, all foreseeable issues are already accounted for, with mitigation in place."

"Hmm…" The old man stayed silent for a second, then looked at one particular person.

"What about our competitors? Any movement?" he finally asked. The woman glanced at the tablet before her, then answered.

"Just the usual, sir. Noise, threats, and the same posturing as always. Some of them managed to secure properties in the city, but none of them have the same contract with AFK as we do." The old man snorted.

"And we only got that because my granddaughter got sweet on a guy who is friends with the person ruling that town." Nobody commented.

"Keep watching them," he continued.

"I want to know what their plans are before they even start them. This is a new market, and I want to make sure we have all the information we need to make decisions."

"Yes, sir. Data Team 7 is already on the task," she replied.

"ETA?"

"They estimate at least one more week before their real-life data stream is up and running."

"Good. Any way we can hasten that?"

"Apologies, sir, but no. At this point, it's just some number crunching and double-checking their processes, while also setting up the redundancies."

"Shame, but understandable," he nodded thoughtfully. He tapped the table with a finger.

"What about outside the game? How are we with the currency deals?" A few frowns appeared on several faces. A different man on the other side of the table spoke up this time.

"Not… good, sir. The legislature – as always – is dragging its feet. Everybody wants to see the first domino fall before they put their name on the papers."

"Probably somebody hoping to make money by shorting the market. Any clue who?"

"Not yet. There are a few possibilities, but the obfuscation protocols haven't been broken yet."

"Hmm, hmm. What about the little shit? You have been tracking his movements, right?"

"Yes, sir," came the short answer.

"His biggest investment is in Future Unknown, owning almost half a percent of the shares. Everything else is secondary. However, we have tracked some recent movements."

"Oh?"

"He bought some shares in foreign currency exchange platforms."

"Short or long?"

"Neither."

"Just shares?"

"Yes."

"Anything special about them?"

"Nothing we can find, sir. They service areas with volatile currency exchange rates, including the ones where the reliance on gold from Magic Unknown is growing at an unprecedented rate."

"Truly? Nothing?"

"No, sir. Thousand apologies!" The man bowed his head, but the old man just waved it away.

"Don't worry. If we can't find anything, that means that little shit definitely knows something," he grumbled. After a few seconds, he let out a sigh.

"Do you have the information on the companies?"

"Right here, sir," the man answered, indicating his tablet. As if in response, the projection above the table shifted, displaying the relevant data for everybody to see. The old man stared at it for a moment, taking in the information, then turned back to the man.

"Follow him. Make sure the companies feel our presence – but don't go overboard."

"Yes, sir… Should we voice our opinion or leave them without our–""That little shit!" the old man interrupted with a curse and a scowl. His expression twisted as if he had realized something unpleasant. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Excuse me?" the man asked, while everyone looked bewildered. The old man just let out an explosive sigh.

"Don't you see?"

"See…what, sir?"

"That little shit definitely knows we are tracking him and his movements. So he would have predicted that we would also track his financial decisions, no matter how he hid them. Thus, it is logical to conclude that he didn't invest in these to make money. He invested so that we would follow him – as he has an unnatural track record in investing – and use our considerable reserves to prop up failing exchange platforms, thus stabilizing those regions." Silence filled the room.

The man with the tablet swallowed before speaking up.

"S-should I stop the process?" Before the old man could answer, another voice spoke up.

"Too late," the woman said, her eyes on her laptop.

"Apparently, we aren't the only ones watching him. The money is already flowing in. Valuation is rising, and there is a halo effect developing." The old man closed his eyes.

"Continue with the project. This time… he won." There was a brief movement around the table as they followed his command.

"That little shit…" he grumbled, crossing his arms in front of him as he watched his people work their magic. ­ There was something to be said about learning from one's mistakes. And he had made many. Some couldn't be corrected; however, for others, he could do the smart thing and listen to the experts. Even if those experts were his own daughter and her friend.

While initially unhappy with the situation, after he had managed to calm down and realize it was his own hubris that led him into the trap those two created, he had to grudgingly admit that they were good. Especially that Sam fellow. He suspected the only reason the 'fall' of the Steel Lions wasn't any bigger was that he was Katie's father. Not out of respect for him, or his position – no. It was because the man didn't want to cause trouble for Katie. That simple. It was…

incredibly humbling in a way he hadn't felt in years. Maybe even decades. For now, he had decided to maintain a small presence in the game, accepting the fact that he wasn't cut out for managing video game guilds. Those small projects were under David's nominal leadership so someone with an understanding of the game had oversight. Even if the boy – man now, really – was more enamored with his girlfriend than helping out his father. He let out a sigh, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his eyes.

"At least that whole Isabella thing is finally over…" he murmured. Everyone – from their teachers to the gardener in their mansion – knew that those two had a thing for each other. It was so blatantly obvious that the betting pool wasn't about whether they would get together, but about the date. He chuckled a little.

"I wonder what face she will make when she finds out about the pool…" But that also meant that both of his children were in a relationship. Which, in turn, meant grandchildren. Eventually. Hopefully.

'And an heir…' he thought despondently. Neither David nor Katie was enthusiastic about taking over the company. Not that he was in a hurry to step down – as with the current rejuvenation treatments, he expected a long and healthy life – but it was never too late to think about it. For now, he had to be happy that his son and daughter were talking to him again. With an idle click, he opened a page on the screen in front of him. A list of businesses appeared.

All of them were either owned by the Stelborn family or in which they held a controlling interest. After his spectacular crash and burn inside the game, he realized there were actually quite a few opportunities outside it that would allow him to influence the scene. Granted, he got the idea when he went through Katie's friend's portfolio and saw the investments in companies that catered to the players of Magic Unknown. Food delivery linked to game accounts, timed perfectly for when the person logged out.

Cleaning services that worked around playtime. Video editing services for those who wanted to share their experiences. Organizing tourist trips into the game. And so many more… His screen flashed with a notification, and he opened it when he saw the sender. His investment research team always sent actionable items. He began to read, then, after the third sentence, he started to chortle to himself.

"Really? What's next? Ask a shaman?" The message was from the specific team he had tasked with keeping an eye on young Sam's portfolio. They had detected some movement, which was instantly followed by more movement from a dozen unidentified sources. Either the young man had more skills in tech than he indicated, or they weren't the only group keeping an eye on him. He sent back a reply, instructing the team to start slowly investing a moderate amount.

He wasn't one hundred percent sold on the idea, but he had learned – the hard way – that this young man usually had a plan, no matter how nonsensical his actions seemed.

"Let's see what happens…" he murmured as he archived the message and turned his attention to other matters. Organizing a meeting with Isabella's parents didn't happen easily… they were almost as busy as he was.

"Well, he did it."

"Was there any doubt?"

"No, but it would have been nice, you know… A guy can dream." The room they were in looked like a bomb had gone off in a printer factory. Every available surface was covered with some kind of marketing material – from brochures advertising new types of headsets and gaming pods, to posters of famous monsters, players, or even NPCs. Any vertical surface was stacked high with sketches, plans, blueprints, or other documentation. Unfortunately, the meeting had to be held here.

The usual meeting room was occupied, so he was forced to step into the domain of ink and smudges - and more buzzwords than one can figure out what to do with… He leaned back in his admittedly comfortable chair and began to speak.

"Look, we all know the fucker is like that. The question is: can you use the footage?" The other people – an assorted collection of business graduates infected with 'art' and artsy types unwillingly dabbling in business – looked back at him with shining eyes.

"Oh yes… With all the footage from other people fighting, mixing in the most successful one would make a great teaser material…"

"We could even create supercuts of different archetypes doing their best!" another person added excitedly.

"One for healers, one for spell slingers, one for tanks, and one for damage dealers."

"Just make sure you don't highlight the fucker. Remember, legal chewed you guys out for blatantly favoring him. We're neutral. Neutral," he said with a scowl, as if it pained him physically to say those words.

"No matter how much that fucker cheats."

"You mean legal chewed us out."

"Maybe… I don't remember how it went. Wasn't really paying attention."

"Well, I did. So did my bonus," the other man commented, rolling his eyes.

"Thankfully, I didn't lose it."

"Good for you, I suppose," he said.

"But I still don't understand why I'm here." The assorted people sitting in the room all glanced at each other, eyes conveying silent messages, until one of them finally had enough – or lost whatever argument they were having – and turned toward him.

"The fact, sir, is that you're our leading expert on the… anomaly."

"Just call him the fucker, I do."

"Let's go with anomaly. That doesn't send me to HR."

"Coward."

"Yes, well, Janice actually likes you, sir." He just smiled. It was always a good idea to make friends with people in important positions. So years ago, when he started at Future Unknown, he made it a goal to befriend the people sitting in those seats. It helped that Janice – when not doing her job – was a genuinely nice person with a weird obsession with strategy games. At least it wasn't hiking. He shuddered a little. Meanwhile, the person speaking eyed him oddly.

In the end, however, they decided not to ask and continued.

"So… we thought, if you're so knowledgeable about the anomaly, you could give us a few ideas on where we should go with our ads in his region. We would like to work ahead a little, if possible. These overtimes are starting to get annoying."

'This couldn't have been an email?' he wondered inwardly. However, on the outside, he just shrugged.

"Fuck if I know. That fucker is making black swan events look like regular Tuesdays." The marketing team looked devastated at the news, but then he smirked.

"However, I have some good news for you guys…"

"Really?"

"Yeah. You know about the Blood Army, right?"

"Yep!"

"Well, just got the news they finally attacked the fucker's holdings…" Instantly, all of them lit up with excitement, turning to each other and rapidly discussing how they would showcase it in the media. He just leaned back and watched them, content and happy that they were leaving him out of it. Then, of course, one of them had the gall to turn to him.

"Well, sir, what do you think?"

"Sure, that sounds good," he replied automatically. Then he realized he didn't know what he agreed to.

"Wait. What?" But nobody was paying attention to him anymore as they delved deeper into the arcane mysteries of SEO and user retention.

'I really should pay more attention to people…' he thought. Then he shrugged.

'Oh well, I can always blame the fucker…' Happy with a thought, he continued to lean back in his chair, waiting either for the meeting time to end or for someone to call on him. Adam sat at his desk, going over reports. Joining Chrysalis and AFK did wonders for his bank account and his relationship with his grandmother; however, it was murder on his brain. With the increased attention came an increased workload.

He had to ensure that the guild remained welcoming to newcomers, yet that the system was robust enough to handle those who sought to exploit it. He had to make sure every item in the guild shop was priced properly – though thankfully, Lucy and her team were rather helpful in that regard. And when they couldn't put a proper price on one of the items, they simply auctioned it off and then priced it according to the result. Oh yeah…

he had to organize regular auctions, both inside the guild and for outsiders, using them as recruiting events by showing off the awesome equipment people could get if they joined. Naturally, the real big-ticket items were auctioned by Lucy at one of the major auction houses in Ironwood or the capital. Even then, the equipment he handled required organizing protection details – magical and physical defenses – and even setting up a few spotters in case some ambitious thief player decided to try their luck.

Of course, Tim decided that auctions like that would be the perfect place to recruit certain types of players. So sometimes – maybe once or twice a month – Adam had to arrange to display a bait piece to attract the attention of people Tim was looking for. Then, of course, there were the distraction auctions. Occasionally, an order came down from Lucy – or from the ever-elusive Sam – to display this or that and drum up a big hoopla around it.

Most of the time, he had no idea why they were doing it, but Lucy and Sam were two of the biggest names currently in the game. With knowledge sometimes pulled out of nothingness. If they told him to do it, he would do it – and try to learn from the results.

Sometimes, after Lucy explained the details behind those distractions or bait plays, he would look baffled at the unassuming woman – with no visible background in the higher echelons of society, according to his grandmother's research – and feel a chill of unease. Adam knew, without a doubt, that Sam managed to find one of the most terrifying and talented managers for his guild. For some reason, Adam also had the feeling that Sam knew this before he even went looking for the woman. Absolutely bonkers…

He was just happy that he only had to deal with the guild. Sadly, now that the tension with the Blood Army was increasing, his workload once again ramped up. Number one – as everyone knew – was arranging for an uninterrupted logistics chain to make sure his army wouldn't run out of key ingredients or replacement equipment. An army marches on its stomach. That was true in ancient times – and in a video game.

Then he had to select those guild members who weren't spies, or too selfish, too weak, or even too incompetent to guard those logistic chains. Though Tim made that one a bit easier.

'Sam really has a talent for finding the most terrifying and effective people…' he often mused, remembering how Tim would just show up out of nowhere, place a list of spies on his desk, and then vanish the moment Adam looked away.

'At least watching his anime harem antics is hilarious…' Following that, he had to figure out how to defend what needed to be defended. Thankfully, Lara was there to help with Ferabor, but everywhere else, he was on his own. Setting up emplacements for the ridiculous creations of Liz and her group of crafting weirdos. Making sure the guild had proper resupply stations, protected by all sorts of magic, while hidden well enough that the enemy couldn't easily find and sabotage them.

Adam also had to organize the guild into effective teams that could coordinate even if their leaders weren't available or communication was disrupted. Finding competent people who weren't already on someone's payroll was frustratingly hard. And now, as he watched Sam speed off toward the site of a skirmish with a guild totally not affiliated with the Blood Army, he just knew his workload was going to increase again.

Looking over the vibrating Katie, the excited Isabella, and the resigned Clarissa – with the weird guy standing behind her – he took a deep breath before speaking.

"Come on. Let me give you the details…"