Inside Bobo’s facility, Roman was currently present, standing in one of the upper labs as he finalized several orders. Screens glowed around him, listing materials, delivery timelines, and confidential equipment requests. He had just finished placing an order for a set of specialized components he needed to replicate his research when his phone rang again almost immediately after the previous call had ended.
He answered without hesitation.
As he listened, a slow smile spread across his face.
"Perfect," Roman said smoothly. "This still doesn’t quite make up for your failure from before, but it’s at least getting you there."
He didn’t give the other person a chance to respond. He simply ended the call.
A laugh escaped him, low at first, then louder.
"Hahah! Finally, it looks like some things are looking up for us."
He walked slowly around the lab, hands behind his back, his mind racing with possibilities.
"The investment money was ours to begin with," Roman muttered to himself. "But now having her commit even more of her own money to our cause... that was an easy win. I imagine that since she’s seeing interest in our facility, she’ll start pouring even more money in our direction."
His eyes gleamed with ambition.
"Now, we will have enough to create ten full exoskeleton suits."
That number alone was significant. Roman had already ordered much of the required material in advance because he had been confident his plan would succeed. He had anticipated this outcome. In his mind, there had never really been a scenario where it failed.
Still, even he understood the limitations.
"Ten isn’t going to be enough," he said, his voice lowering as he stared at the schematics on the screen. "I’ve heard the numbers of superhumans that are in existence... and the power of some of the other organizations."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"We’re going to need to be able to mass-produce this for everyone in the Gilt Rats. And to do that..." His gaze shifted around the lab space. "We’ll have to take this entire facility for ourselves."
There was only one lingering concern in the back of Roman’s mind.
The Billion Bloodline.
He remembered them visiting the facility. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. They were observant. Strategic.
Most likely, they had poured some amount of money into the place as well.
However, Roman doubted their reach.
Could the Billion Bloodline Group really get in their way once again?
He didn’t think so.
This was the final piece he needed to put into place before removing the large thorn in his side once and for all.
Elsewhere, Karen found herself standing in front of the Billion Bloodline building once again.
It was a place she truly hadn’t expected to return to so often, yet somehow she had been coming back more frequently than she ever imagined.
As she walked through the entrance, her expression continuously shifted. A smile tugged at her lips one moment, only for her eyebrows to furrow the next. Her eyes twitched slightly as conflicting emotions warred inside her.
She was happy. Of course she was.
She was about to get her building back.
But at the same time, why should she feel happy when the Billion Bloodline Group was selling it for such a high price? Even if she regained ownership, the situation wasn’t truly over. Everything hinged on one critical factor.
The Gilt Rats had to be dealt with.
Without that, it was all meaningless.
Karen entered the familiar meeting room she had been in before. This time, however, seated beside the chairman rather than behind him as a guard, was someone she recognized—Warma.
"I am here to help discuss the terms right down to the last detail," Warma said calmly, "in hopes that you have no worries."
The discussion that followed was meticulous. They reviewed clause after clause, focusing particularly on what money would be returned if the task failed.
Not every single penny would be refunded if Max failed.
At least 700 million would be returned. However, Max would still lose approximately 250 million if they failed against the Gilt Rats.
In truth, Max didn’t seem overly concerned about that clause.
If he failed against the Gilt Rats, it likely meant much bigger issues—most likely death. Compared to that, monetary loss felt insignificant.
The contract seemed almost too favorable in Karen’s favor, to the point that she felt she couldn’t ask for anything else. It was strange, considering she had entered the meeting believing the other side had been taking advantage of her.
Now, the balance of power felt different.
"Alright then, I think all is sorted," Karen said at last. "The only thing you need to do is make sure you get rid of the Gilt Rats, and that the Rum organization isn’t involved or attempting to take us down in any way."
Max leaned slightly forward.
"Right. It’s going to be hard. If you can, could you send the money now? We just need to confirm you do have it."
There was a subtle eagerness in his voice. His hands almost rubbed together as anticipation flickered behind his visor.
The contract had already been signed. There was no reason for delay.
Karen transferred the funds.
Moments later, confirmation came through.
Max leaned back in his chair, almost in ecstasy. The sensation was immediate. A surge of power pulsed through him—not physically, but financially.
After everything he had been through—the purchase of assets, sending out money, receiving income from underground fights, constant movement of capital—this was the single biggest boost in funds he had ever seen.
His system updated.
Max: $1,476,380,000
The number glowed brightly in his display.
A grin spread across his face beneath the helmet.
"I’m so happy that you did this, Karen. So happy," Max said slowly. "That I think I need to show you something."
With deliberate movement, he raised his hand to his helmet.
And lifted it up.
****
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