Ethan scrolled through website after website, searching for server farms that matched his needs.
OmniTech needed infrastructure, and unless he wanted to rely on third-party services and sacrifice control, he had to secure his own physical server space and fast.
There weren't many options in Atlanta for a full-on purchase that fit his needs and timeline, but there was one name that kept popping up during his research:
Drake Systems.
It was a privately-owned data center tucked away in a light industrial zone near the outskirts of the city.
Not too big or flashy, but the specs were just what he needed and most importantly, it was owner-operated.
Camila Drake.
The only photo of her, that he could find online, was one where she stood behind a podium, her arms folded and her hazel eyes locked into the crowd she addressed.
Ethan skimmed the brief bio attached to the article: Camila Drake – MIT dropout, founder of Drake Systems, known for custom-built private data infrastructure, heavy encryption standards, and an aversion to venture capital.
"MIT, huh…" Ethan muttered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I guess we have something in common."
He leaned back, staring at the screen. Despite the solid specs and strong reputation among niche tech forums, he didn't recall ever hearing of Drake Systems in his original timeline.
That in itself said a lot.
Either the company crashed... or she sold it, probably around this time, as evident by the listing on Strata Commercial, a mid-sized real estate firm based in Atlanta that specialized in tech-friendly industrial properties.
This meant he was right on schedule, and all he needed to do was play his cards right.
Picking his phone up, Ethan dialed the number of the broker listed on the website.
The phone rang just once before a confident, professional voice answered on the other end.
"Lana Wolfe speaking."
"Hi, this is Ethan Carter," he said, "I'm calling about the Drake Systems listing on Strata Commercial's website."
There was a pause, before Lana let out a breath in exasperation.
"About that listing," she started, "I was actually supposed to take it down this morning."
Ethan leaned forward slightly. "Why?"
"The owner, Camila, has been turning away every single interested buyer," Lana replied. "She's incredibly particular. According to her, she's looking for a very special kind of buyer, and honestly, I doubt anyone in this world fits her definition of special."
Ethan could hear the annoyance in her voice, one that seemed to come from familiarity.
"I take it you've been dealing with her personally?" he asked.
"Oh, believe me," Lana said dryly. "Camila's brilliant, but she's just a pain to deal with."
Ethan almost let out a laugh at the way Lana sounded but he held it in.
Clearing his throat, he then hummed thoughtfully and said,"and yet she listed the property."
"Yes, but it has been up for over two months now." She answered, sounding resigned.
"I'd still like a shot," he said. "Can you set up a meeting?"
She took another pause, then came the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. "Alright, Mr. Carter. I'll reach out to her and try to schedule something. Don't get your hopes up, though."
Ethan smiled faintly. "I look forward to meeting her."
"Assuming she agrees," Lana added. "I'll call you back when I get a response."
"Appreciate it," he said and ended the call.
Leaning back in his chair, Ethan's gaze lingered on the photo of Camila Drake for a while longer.
In this year, her company was still known, respected even, among niche tech circles. So what made her want to sell it now?
Ethan didn't believe in coincidences. If a woman like Camila Drake, an MIT dropout with a reputation for brilliance, was putting her life's work up for sale, then there was a reason. And whatever that reason was, he planned to find out.
With that in mind, he opened a new tab and started researching everything he could find on Camila Drake, online. From interviews, forum posts, patents, and even local business filings.
Although the results he found weren't much, it was enough to work with and it gave him just enough advantage to convince her to sell the server farm to him.
_______
After a couple of hours researching, Ethan finally remembered he had a guest and walked out of his room.
Stretching, he turned to the clock that hung on the wall of his living room, noting that it was 1:24pm
Right, it was lunchtime.
Usually, he would've made a cup of noodles but María would kill him if she found out he was feeding his guest junk food.
Resigned, he walked towards the kitchen and opened his fridge. Luckily, he had restocked it so he had options.
He pulled out some chicken breasts, a few vegetables, and rice. They were simple ingredients, but enough to quickly throw something decent together.
Within minutes, the kitchen was filled with the sharp sizzle of oil and the aroma of garlic and soy sauce.
He plated the food a few minutes later—grilled chicken over garlic fried rice with sautéed veggies on the side—and set the dishes on the small dining table. Then, after wiping his hands, he walked down the hall and stopped outside the guest room.
He gave the door a light knock.
"Isabela?" he called.
There was a moment of silence, then a quiet, "Yeah?"
"Lunch is ready," Ethan said. "I made enough for two. Come eat before it gets cold."
"...Okay," she replied.
Walking out, she seemed to have taken a shower as she was now in a different oversized hoodie, this time with an anime graphic on it.
Isabela walked over to the table, her eyes landing on the food with a look of surprise.
"This... actually smells amazing," she said, pulling out a chair. "You cook?"
Ethan, who took a seat on the opposite side of the table, answered. "You pick up a thing or two when you live alone."
She took a bite, then blinked. "This is really good. Like—actually good."
Ethan smiled faintly as he sat across from her. "Glad you think so."
Contrary to the smile on his face, the reason he learnt to cook was anything but a fond memory.
In his original timeline, he had only learnt to cook to impress a single person, Olivia Carter.
He remembered the first time he'd surprised her with dinner, he remembered how happy she was everytime he cooked for her, he remembered how each would take a week off work just to enjoy his cooking.
And yet, all of it turned out to be an illusion. It turned out he was the only one who thought those moments were special.
Without realizing it, Ethan had gripped the spoon so tightly, it bent slightly under the pressure of his hand.
"Are you okay?" Isabela's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he realized that she had stopped eating and was looking directly at him.
Ethan blinked, loosening his grip on the spoon as if just realizing it had warped in his hand. He forced a small, composed smile, quickly masking the anger that had slipped through.
"Yeah," he said, setting the bent spoon down and reaching for his glass of water. "Just… a weird thought."
That's right, he was in the past now and when the time came, he'd make sure every single one of them paid for what they had done to him.