Shane strolled into the conference room, his fingertips lightly brushing the edge of the smooth table before he headed straight to the head of the room and sat down without ceremony.
He adjusted the angle of his chair slightly, leaning back against the soft leather with his hands crossed in front of him.
Only after he had fully settled in and his expression relaxed did the pre-arranged meeting begin, following the pre-planned agenda step by step.
This methodical, mundane pace was like a glass of lukewarm water, instantly stirring a sense of boredom in the depths of Shane’s heart.
To put it bluntly, as a figurehead CEO, he was unqualified—a mere placeholder.
His interest in this company, Skylark, had only lasted for a brief period during its founding.
Ever since then, all his focus and energy had been directed toward finding loopholes to pocket investors’ money.
He never truly cared whether the company lived or died.
As the meeting progressed slowly but surely, the company’s professional manager proved to be quite capable, delivering an exceptionally brilliant performance.
He stood up, laser pointer in hand, and systematically displayed the data for the company’s core business segments on the projector screen.
Every figure was clear; every report was meticulously detailed.
Following that, he clearly outlined the company’s development prospects and blueprint for the coming years with a firm tone and sharp logic.
Every word and viewpoint he presented caused the representatives from State Street Global to nod frequently.
Satisfaction gradually dawned on their faces, and their gazes toward him grew increasingly appreciative.
Undoubtedly, it was a successful and satisfying meeting—at least, that was how it appeared to Shane.
He was already quietly preparing for the meeting to adjourn, his fingers mindlessly tapping the table, his eyes filled with impatience.
After all, all the discussions here revolved around the abstract concept of “making money,” yet he hadn’t seen a single cent of actual investment funds.
For someone whose heart was set on skimming cash, this held no interest.
Just as he raised his hand, preparing to ring the small bell on the table to signal the official end of the meeting, the important guest from State Street Global, who had been sitting quietly and saying very little, suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence of the room.
“Can your drones be miniaturized?”
Her tone was as calm as still water, yet every word was crystal clear, cutting through the slight noise in the room.
“They must also meet the requirements for long-range precision control and silent flight, and be capable of carrying weapon systems and thermal imaging equipment.”
“Furthermore, they must be immune to radar interference, capable of successfully evading radar tracking, and sustain long-duration flight.”
“I want to ask: given your company’s current technical level, can you meet these requirements?”
As soon as those words were uttered, the conference room fell silent.
Everyone’s eyes swiveled toward her with varying expressions.
The staff from State Street Global looked at her with profound respect, bordering on caution, clearly in awe of her.
The employees of Skylark, however, mostly had confusion and doubt written on their faces.
They couldn’t understand why this important guest would suddenly make such strange demands.
Shane frowned, a small knot forming between his brows.
He calculated rapidly in his mind: *What does she mean?
Is she trying to push our drone technology toward military application?*
*Or perhaps she wants to use these modified drones to transport certain illicit goods that can’t see the light of day.*
*Look at the requirements: evading radar, weapon systems—the intention was too obvious, practically blatant.*
He knew full well that the drone technology the company was currently showcasing was already quite mature and considered a leader in the industry.
However, constrained by current network transmission efficiency, signal stability still needed improvement.
Furthermore, current battery technology on the market was imperfect, with shortcomings in both endurance and performance.
The R&D costs for miniaturizing drones would be astronomically high, requiring a massive investment.
Even if they exhausted all their efforts to force out a miniaturized drone, its performance would be severely compromised.
It wouldn’t meet practical standards and wouldn’t be much different from the ordinary small toy drones found on the market.
Shane didn’t answer her question directly; he didn’t want to waste brainpower on such troublesome matters.
He simply cast a discreet glance toward the company’s CTO, Jack, who was sitting not far away.
He decisively threw this thorny problem directly to the technical expert.
Faced with Shane’s gaze, Jack showed no sign of panic; instead, he appeared remarkably composed. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
His expression was calm, and his gaze was steady, showing no hint of stage fright.
One couldn’t tell if this composure came from genuine confidence or if it was a facade maintained for the crowd.
He slowly rose from the conference table, standing tall with a collected expression.
He looked steadily at the female guest and spoke in a deep voice, responding word for word: “Ma’am, the requirements you’ve proposed are entirely within our capabilities.
However, the R&D difficulty of this technology is immense.
It will take a very long time to see results.”
“How long?”
Alexandra—the female guest from State Street Global—did not hesitate.
She followed up immediately, her tone carrying a hint of undeniable urgency as her eyes locked onto Jack, waiting for his answer.
This sudden follow-up placed significant pressure on Jack, causing his composed expression to flicker.
He lowered his gaze slightly and fell silent for a few seconds, his fingers unconsciously gripping the hem of his shirt.
He quickly estimated the time, manpower, and resources required for development.
A moment later, he looked up and gave a conservative answer: “Preliminary estimates suggest at least three years, assuming everything goes smoothly without any accidents.”
Hearing this answer, Shane couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow, looking at Jack with a newfound sense of surprise.
He wondered inwardly: *This kid usually acts so casual—I thought he was just a placeholder who didn’t know tech.
How does he have the guts to speak so confidently?
Have I been misjudging him?
Does he actually have some real skill?*
Conversely, upon hearing Jack’s words, Alexandra’s brows furrowed slightly, a flash of displeasure crossing her face.
She fell into deep thought, her fingers tapping the table.
She was clearly dissatisfied with the long cycle of “three years.”
However, she didn’t say more or offer an objection.
She simply nodded and gestured for Jack to sit down.
Seeing that she had no further objections or questions, Jack’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly.
He let out a quiet sigh of relief, his back already slick with a layer of cold sweat.
He slowly sat back in his seat and discreetly wiped the perspiration from his palms.
Seeing that Alexandra was no longer speaking and had no other questions, Shane immediately picked up the small bell on the table.
He rang it to signal the end of the meeting with a crisp chime.
Without a word, he stood up and walked toward the exit, his steps hurried and his expression still tinged with impatience.
His time was incredibly precious; he didn’t want to waste a single second in a place as boring as the office.
He walked quickly back to his spacious, bright office and tossed the meeting-related documents into the filing cabinet in the corner.
His movements were careless, not even bothering to organize them.
Then, he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, preparing to put it on and leave the company to attend to his own affairs.
Just then, there was a soft, rhythmic knock on the office door.
“Come in.”
Shane didn’t even look up, his tone laced with impatience.
As he spoke, he continued putting on his coat, having no intention of opening the door himself.
The door was pushed open gently, and his assistant, Bernie, walked in carrying a glass of warm water.
Her expression was somewhat complicated, and her tone was hesitant.
That lady from State Street Global just asked me to tell you that she is proposing a $200 million capital injection to support the company’s future development.”
“Oh?”
Shane’s eyes instantly lit up with a flash of pleasant surprise.
The step he had already taken toward the door stopped in its tracks.
The impatience on his face vanished, and his tone brightened.
He turned around to look at Bernie and asked urgently, “That’s incredible news!
Did she mention what the conditions are?”
The look of difficulty on Bernie’s face deepened.
She set the water glass on the desk.
“Boss,” she said slowly, “she has three conditions, and they are all quite harsh.”
“First, after the capital injection is complete, she wants to directly control half of the company’s shares, becoming one of the largest shareholders.”
“Second, she requires us to produce a miniaturized drone that perfectly meets all the requirements she proposed in the meeting within one year.
There can be no deviation.”
“Third, she will only pay $50 million upfront.
The remaining $150 million will be injected into the company’s account in stages and batches only after the miniaturized drone technology achieves a substantial breakthrough and meets her requirements.”
Shane walked slowly back to his desk, pulled out his chair, and sat down.
He rubbed his chin with one hand, falling into deep thought.
His gaze turned vacant as his mind quickly calculated the pros and cons of this deal.
He knew that after the injection, his personal shareholding in the company would indeed be significantly diluted.
But to him, that wasn’t a big problem and wouldn’t affect his interests at all.
After all, the current 65% stake wasn’t held by him alone; there were other shareholders.
Although the number of shares would decrease, the massive capital injection would skyrocket the company’s valuation, and the actual value of the shares would rise accordingly.
As long as State Street Global had no objections, he certainly wouldn’t be stupid enough to oppose it.
The real headache was the miniaturized drone that had to meet all those harsh requirements.
The long-range control, thermal imaging, and radar evasion were difficult, but given enough time, solutions could be found.
However, the “weapon system” requirement was immensely difficult—practically impossible.
The recoil issue of weapon systems had always been a bottleneck in the industry.
Mounting a weapon on a miniaturized drone while ensuring stability and flight performance was a nightmare.
Unless they abandoned traditional weapons and turned to energy weapons.
But he also knew that energy weapons had extreme requirements for battery performance: endurance, power, volume—every metric was demanding.
Every battery currently on the market couldn’t even come close to the needs of an energy weapon.
Not to mention that there were no small reactors like the one Tony Stark had.
Even if there were, given Stark’s personality and style, he would never let the technology out, let alone sell it to him.
If there were anything that could truly solve this battery problem, it would likely be the nuclear battery technology he had yet to fully master, which was still in the R&D stage.
But right now, he absolutely could not reveal the existence of the nuclear battery—not even a hint.
He was currently alone, with no powerful backing to protect him.
Once news of the nuclear battery leaked, the military, Hydra, and various other malicious factions would surely swarm him.
He would only bring disaster upon himself, and the loss would outweigh the gain.
In addition, Alexandra’s “silent flight” requirement was another extremely harsh, nearly impossible condition.
This technology wasn’t something that could be achieved by simply improving an engine.
It required an anti-gravity engine to truly achieve silent, stable flight.
And the anti-gravity engine was a patent exclusive to Tony Stark’s father.
Not only lacked he the ability to develop such technology, but even if he did, it would be illegal and couldn’t be advanced openly.