The Rise of John Raymond

Chapter 39: Trouble in Paradise

After the final voice died down, the secretary turned to John with a respectful nod.

“Mr John, please, your opening remarks,” she said, giving him space to address the table before the contract would be discussed in full.

John stood, adjusting the lapel of his suit. He glanced briefly around the table, noting the diverse expressions: some welcoming, some indifferent, some clearly sizing him up.

“Hello,” John began, his voice steady though not overly rehearsed. “My name is John, and I am the new heir to the empire. I look forward to working with all of you peacefully and changing the world as well. Thank you.”

His words were brief but struck the right chord. A few of the board members smiled and gave nods of approval. Others simply turned back to their tablets or took sips of their coffee, their reactions unreadable.

Then the mood began to shift.

The room, which had felt moderately tense before, now seemed to drop into a chilling silence as the secretary pulled up the contract on the main screen and began to read aloud.

It was the contract everyone had been buzzing about—the massive pharmaceutical project that had the potential to shake the global health industry.

Each word echoed in the conference room, heavy and deliberate.

The new drug in question was revolutionary. It would not only help people sleep better but also monitor their health from within, detecting anomalies early, triggering self-regulation against common illnesses, and targeting early-stage cancers with its built-in antibody signals. It would be integrated with smart tech—chips that allowed for real-time tracking of biological activity. A biological miracle with digital intelligence.

The cost of production? A staggering $10 trillion.

But the potential profits? Unimaginable. At the very least, five billion dollars in annual returns, minimum.

It sounded like a no-brainer.

But it wasn’t.

As the secretary finished reading, she posed the dreaded question. “Now, I would like to open the floor. What are your thoughts on the contract?”

A moment of silence. Then came the storm.

“I think it's unfair to allocate only five percent to the health sector, considering we are the very backbone of this operation,” Mr Ade said, not hiding his frustration. “Without validation from my department, this entire contract would fall apart. It’s not even legal to push this product without my approval.”

Murmurs stirred across the table.

“The issue is,” he continued, leaning forward now, “this was dropped thirty minutes before the meeting. No time for counter-suggestions. No time for strategic input. What are we even doing here?”

John sat still, watching the chaos begin to unfold.

As Ade’s voice faded, others chimed in one after the other.

“I’m with Ade on this,” Agnes said, her brows furrowed. “As the legal and government liaison, I must say, five percent is laughable. Do you think foreign ministers will just approve the formula without some incentives? We’re risking global diplomacy and public trust for what—spare change?”

“You’re talking as if your job is harder than mine,” Jamal interjected coldly. “I have to embed tracking technology that works on a microscopic level and guarantees zero malfunctions. One error could cost lives. And lawsuits. And you want to argue over five percent?”

“Microscopic or not,” Martin cut in, “you don’t even have a production site yet. That’s me. My lands, my logistics, my men building these facilities. And my cut? Also five percent? That’s an insult.”

Agnes rolled her eyes. “Martin, please. You still have three properties on the empire’s balance sheet that haven’t even been cleaned up in over a year. Don’t act like you’re the savior here.”

“Oh, and what about you?” Jamal turned to her. “Still funnelling funds to your little side law firms? Don’t pretend you’re squeaky clean.”

“Enough!” the secretary called out sharply. “Keep the arguments professional.”

John was frozen in his seat.

This was nothing like the polished, composed empire his grandfather had spoken about. These were not elite figures operating in harmony. They were powerhouses—yes—but ones constantly wrestling for dominance.

He glanced at his tab. A single notification blinked on his screen. It was a private message.

“Welcome to the table. Now make this stop and give us a solution.”

It was from his grandfather.

John's heart skipped. His palms were slightly sweaty. He knew what this meant. This wasn’t just a test of leadership. It was his moment to either stand tall—or lose control before he even had it.

He stared at the screen as the voices continued to rise around him.

The finance team, who had tried to mediate through logic, was now being accused of manipulation.

Mr Carter was defending the importance of engineering in housing the technology safely.

Lea had now begun to argue that the social service wing would be responsible for public integration, mental health education, and media rollout—and yet she was allocated only three percent.

Meanwhile, Ade’s subtle smirk suggested he had already started laying the groundwork for a side product—one that could rival the empire’s version.

That was the problem.

They all wanted the crown but refused to wear the weight of it.

And John… John knew that one wrong word could pit them against him. One biased decision and they might never respect his authority again. But to stay silent now was to prove unworthy.

He looked around once more, then stood.

“ENOUGH!” John’s voice rang out across the room.