Victor spoke cautiously, choosing his words with precision.
"When your father was alive, nothing happened. But now, other shareholders are speculating that Tony might want you out of the company—or at least, that's the excuse they're using."
"At the last shareholders' meeting, held just last week, they voted to block your succession to the CEO position. On top of that, I've heard they're planning to bring in new investors to dilute your shares."
He paused, his tone growing sharper.
"What's worse, I wasn't even informed of the meeting, even though I usually attended as your representative. I only found out afterwards through my contacts."
Max frowned, a mix of disbelief and growing annoyance swirling inside him.
To him, it felt like the plot of a second-rate drama.
"They're seriously using Tony Stark as an excuse?" he muttered with heat bubbling in his chest.
The truth was obvious—these shareholders just wanted control of the company now that it had become valuable.
And sure, maybe Tony was genuinely interested, but Max doubted it.
If he didn't know better, he might've assumed Tony was masterminding all of this as revenge for that trivial encounter with Pepper Potts.
But this was Tony Stark.
"Revenge?" Max scoffed to himself. "Please."
Tony might've bought the shares in a moment of petty irritation, but holding a grudge? That wasn't his style.
Tony Stark would rather spend his time with supermodels than waste energy scheming over a guy he probably didn't even remember.
And considering this was peak playboy era, Tony, the odds he still remembered someone named Max Knight—let alone that Max had once tried to flirt with Pepper—were laughably low.
'Aliens attacking New York right now would be more believable,' Max thought dryly.
He slumped back into his chair, staring at the ceiling, still amazed by how absurd people could be.
Victor, meanwhile, reached into his case and pulled out a small key and a white card, placing them gently on the desk.
"Coincidentally, These were left with me. Maybe you'll find their purpose if you look around."
Then, Victor withdrew another document from the folder and pointed at the blank signature line.
"You can sign here to finalize the transfer of everything we discussed. Once that's done, you'll officially own it all. I imagine you'll need some time to process everything and decide how you want to respond to the shareholders' antics."
Max gave a quiet sigh, nodding. He skimmed the paperwork—nothing unusual—and signed it.
But just as he handed the document back, something caught his eye.
A blinking red icon shimmered faintly in the corner of his vision.
He froze.
'It's working!' he dazed, heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and exhilaration.
He quickly composed himself, masking his excitement, and passed the file to Victor with a steady hand.
Victor, unaware of Max's sudden internal shift, gave the document a final glance and tucked it into his briefcase.
He stood, offering a handshake.
Max took it, and Victor gave him a warm pat on the shoulder.
"Think everything through. The shareholders are likely to act at the next meeting. Call me if you need anything."
Max nodded. "Thanks, Uncle. Don't worry, I'm not going to lose sleep over it. Take care of yourself."
Victor gave a soft chuckle and headed to the door—just in time to bump into Martha.
"Finished with your work talk?" she asked, her eyes rolling over the clock. "How about lunch? It's already time."
Both men blinked in surprise. It was 3 PM already. Time had flown by.
Victor shook his head. "Not today, Martha. I've got to run. Next time, maybe."
Max walked him out, watching as Victor disappeared down the drive.
He stood there for a moment, deep in thought, until Martha approached with concern.
"Is something wrong, Max? You look… preoccupied."
He forced a faint smile and waved her concern off.
"No, everything's fine. Just thinking about the future."
They sat down for lunch, but Max barely touched his food. His appetite was completely overshadowed by the possibilities whirling in his mind.
The blinking icon hadn't vanished. It was still pulsing—steady, insistent—in the corner of his vision.
After eating only a few bites, he reassured Martha again and retreated to the study.
Everything was just as he had left it. The documents, the key, the card. But all of it paled in comparison to the mystery burning in his mind.
He took a deep breath and sat down, eyes fixed on the flickering red icon.
'Could this all be a dream?'
'Or maybe some elaborate simulation?'
But deep down, a flicker of hope caught fire.
'No. This… this could be my cheat. My way to survive—and thrive—in this world.'
A surge of emotion coursed through him. His palms were damp. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
He focused on the icon.
It pulsed. Then shimmered.
A faint hum filled the room. The air itself seemed to ripple.
Then, suddenly, a translucent screen expanded before his eyes—bright, sharp, and utterly surreal.
Text materialized in bold silver letters:
====
[Dimensional Mercenary - Max Knight]
- Travel
-Space Backpack
-Help Menu:
Welcome, Mercenary.
You have been chosen as a Dimensional Mercenary.
You will receive opportunities to travel to other worlds and complete tasks.
Participation is optional. You may decline missions.
Successful completion will yield rewards.
A dimensional backpack with limited capacity has been provided for your use.
When entering a new dimension, you will receive a suitable identity, along with relevant memories, knowledge, and skills as needed.
You may not bring anything back from a dimension except approved rewards.
Failure to complete a task within the time limit, or declining a mission, may lock you out of that world permanently.
Your identity once processed will remain the same for a dimension —choose your path wisely.
Begin your journey when ready.
====
Max stared at the interface, his breath caught in his throat.
He'd read stories like this before. Played games with similar systems. But this?
This felt real.
"A legendary system…" he whispered. "But it's different… stricter."
Still, his lips curled into a slow, dangerous grin.
Now with this in strange world, Max didn't feel lost.
…
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