The woman from finance was the first to react. She staggered back into her chair as if her legs had given way. Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide, whispering over and over, “Sullivan… Sullivan… Oh my God…”The young man from operations, dropped his pen. It clattered noisily against the table. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, stammering, “Th-the Barry Sullivan?… No… this can’t… this can’t be real…”The older executive, pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose with a trembling hand. Beads of sweat pearled at his temple as he muttered, half to himself, half to the room, “I-I can't believe it. The richest man alive… in this room, with us… and we mocked him…”One of the women clutched at the edge of the table, whispering as if she had walked into a tiger, “We’re finished… completely finished…”The diamond-brooched woman clutched at her pearls, muttering, “Lord have mercy… What have we done…”And then there was Higgins. For the first time, his towering form seemed to

The long rectangular conference table was still littered with sketches, technical drawings, and prototype blueprints. Around it sat a dozen of Barry’s newest recruits—bright-eyed inventors, engineers, and designers, some still in their twenties, buzzing with energy as they presented concepts that could change the face of aviation.Barry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished wood as one of the young engineers wrapped up a pitch about revolutionizing old models of jets.“Good work,” Barry said, his voice filled with excitement. “Refine the numbers, make the models tighter, and bring it back to me in two days. If it checks out, we’ll move to prototyping immediately.”As the discussion wound down, his personal secretary approached. She waited patiently for a break in the conversation before stepping forward.“Mr. Smith,” she said softly, careful to use his alias in front of the team. “I’ve just received word from Mr. Wellington of Zenith Jet Group. He’s accepted your request

Barry left the gala and drove back to his hotel where he's temporally lodging at.As soon as he entered his suite, he let out a long, slow breath. He tossed his jacket over a chair and loosened his tie, padding across the plush carpet in his socks."What a day," he muttered to the empty, luxurious room. He made his way to the minibar, selecting a crystal tumbler and pouring a measure of amber whiskey. The ice clinked as he gave it a slow stir. He had just taken the first, smooth sip when his personal phone, lying on the coffee table buzzed softly. He picked up the phone, the screen displaying an unknown number."Hello?" Barry answered.The voice on the other end was unmistakable. "Is this Mr. Smith?"Barry's posture straightened almost imperceptibly. "Yes. How may I help you?""This is Kenji Tanaka." There was a pause, as if the man were weighing each word. "I'm in."Barry actually set his drink down on the table with a soft thud, a genuine jolt of surprise running through him. He

A low, collective gasp rippled through the glass pavilion as the hangar doors opened and the Stingray jet was towed onto the runway. It was unlike any aircraft they had ever seen. Its form was a seamless, organic sweep, mimicking the graceful, powerful shape of its namesake. The body was painted a deep midnight blue, and across its surface, subtle, glowing spots were scattered like a field of stars, shimmering faintly in the sunlight. The host began to read the specifications from her tablet. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Stingray boasts a cruising speed of Mach 0.94," she announced.The figure drew nods of approval from everyone—it was competitive with the fastest private jets.Then she paused, her eyes widening slightly as she read the next line. She looked up, needing to confirm the words. "It... it is equipped with a fully integrated, certified artificial intelligence pilot system, capable of handling all phases of flight." A wave of murmurs began, but she wasn't finished. She t

The boardroom was packed, to the brim with shareholders, their faces flushed with anger and anxiety. At the fixed time, the meeting began. Wellington sat at the head of the table, hands clasped, his face composed. He knew this meeting would be a deciding factor on his job as CEO.The meeting had barely begun when the complaints erupted like cannon fire.“Our stock price is stagnant!” barked a balding man with a thick gold watch. “Do you have any idea what that means for us, Wellington? For our portfolios?”Another shareholder, a woman in a crimson blazer, slapped a folder onto the table. “Smith Jetz Industries has become a phenomenon overnight. Every article, every headline, every market report sings their praises. Meanwhile, Zenith Jet Group is being described as obsolete. Obsolete! That word is poison to investors. What are you planning to do about it?”"Yeah," another cried out. "While Smith Jetz is printing money, we're circling the drain! What is your plan?"Voices rose, layered