The next morning.
Outside, the sun was bright and warm, but its rays couldn’t penetrate the dim, factory-style office.
Even so, Shane was jolted awake by a piercing alarm.
He opened his eyes, feeling groroggy.
He rubbed his aching temples and glanced at his phone.
“It’s already nine!
I need to change and get to Wall Street for my meeting.”
After a quick wash, Shane changed into a well-tailored suit and carefully loaded the drone prototype into his pickup truck.
Wall Street, the financial heart of America.
Its prosperity was something “ordinary” couldn’t begin to describe.
The moment you stepped into this district, the first word that came to mind wasn’t “skyscrapers,” “crowded streets,” or “fluctuating stock tickers.”
It was “money”—the raw, unfiltered scent of capital that permeated the very air.
Shane parked his truck in a paid lot and, after settling the fee, pushed a four-wheeled dolly carrying the drone toward his destination.
The target was a private investment bank.
The bank wasn’t massive, but it was the most powerful among those willing to provide financing to outsiders.
After all, no matter how small a bank was, if it was rooted in Wall Street, it was beyond the league of ordinary institutions; every player here was a titan of the capital market.
Standing before the bank’s entrance, Shane looked up at the towering edifice, his gaze firm.
“State Street Global Bank, I hope you have the eyes to recognize quality.”
He thought to himself that one day, he hoped to own a building like this.
In his previous life, such a thing was an unthinkable extravagance.
But here, in this land of opportunity and challenge, he saw the hope of making that dream a reality.
Shane took a deep breath, adjusted his suit once more, and confirmed he hadn’t forgotten his documents.
With everything ready, he squared his shoulders and walked toward the reception desk.
“Hello, I’m Shane Grinter.
I have an appointment with Manager Hall to discuss my company’s financing.”
His tone was calm and composed.
The receptionist looked him over and quickly checked the appointment log.
After confirming, she gave him a professional smile and nodded.
“Mr.
Grinter, you are indeed on the schedule.
You may head straight to the third floor, Conference Room 5.
Someone will guide you once you arrive.”
“Thank you.”
Shane gave a slight nod in polite response.
A bank security guard stepped forward to help him push the dolly into the elevator.
Shane pressed the button for the third floor, and the elevator rose smoothly to his destination.
As the doors slid open, a woman in a sharp professional suit was waiting.
“Mr.
Grinter?” she asked softly.
“That’s me,” Shane replied.
“I am Manager Hall’s secretary.
Please follow me.”
The woman turned to lead the way, her tone polite but distant.
Shane followed her down the hall and soon arrived at Conference Room 5.
It was a small room, less than ten square meters, with simple and somewhat Spartan decor.
Shane understood immediately.
It was clear the bank was interested in his “Skylark” drone project, but they didn’t value it very highly.
Someone was already waiting inside.
A middle-aged man in a black suit sat there, his hair thinning and his expression tinged with arrogance.
When Shane entered, the man didn’t stand up or step forward.
He simply sat at the conference table and extended his right hand, waiting for Shane to come to him.
A flicker of discomfort crossed Shane’s mind, but he didn’t show it.
He knew he was there to beg for investment, not to put on airs.
He couldn’t expect the other party to be overly warm.
He parked the dolly, stepped forward quickly, and took the man’s hand.
*When I’m crawling, I’ll take whatever money I can get.*
*When I stand up, everyone will have to show me respect.*
*Socks before shoes.
I’ll be capital’s grandson for now, so that one day you’ll all have to call me ‘Grandpa!’*
Shane comforted himself silently.
*That day will come, but for now, I must smile.*
The thought vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a hearty smile and a respectful but not subservient tone.
“Mr.
Hall, it’s a pleasure.
I’ve long heard that you are the most brilliant angel investor on Wall Street.
It’s an honor for my company to have caught your eye!”
Faced with Shane’s proactive flattery, a hint of a smile appeared on Hall’s face.
He was clearly satisfied with Shane’s tact.
“Good to meet you, Mr.
Grinter.”
Hall withdrew his hand and pointed to the chair opposite him.
“Time is precious.
Let’s begin.”
“Of course, Mr.
Hall.”
Shane nodded and took his seat.
He knew there was no need for small talk with Hall.
He didn’t care about the man; he cared about the investment funds the bank held.
The financing meeting lasted nearly an hour.
When it ended, Shane walked out of the conference room with a wooden expression, his face terrifyingly dark.
After he left, Hall sat in the room with a triumphant smile, looking like a fox that had just raided a henhouse, his eyes full of calculation.
“Damned vulture!”
The moment he stepped out of the bank’s main doors, Shane couldn’t hold back any longer and cursed under his breath.
“I really wish those failed artists from history had been more successful.
Otherwise, how would an arrogant prick like that have the right to look down on me!”
Clearly, Shane had taken a significant loss in this meeting.
If not, he wouldn’t have been so unable to control his rage the moment he stepped outside.
In truth, the meeting wasn’t exactly a failure.
Shane had successfully secured a Letter of Intent, and both parties had signed it.
Next, the bank would perform a valuation, audit his assets, and conduct due diligence.
Furthermore, upon learning that Shane’s company currently consisted only of himself, they promised to provide assistance in operations, finance, and legal matters.
On the surface, this was a good thing.
With this help, Shane’s company could quickly establish a complete system, and he wouldn’t have to do everything himself anymore.
But what infuriated Shane was that this “help” was far from free.
The investment bank demanded 70% of his company’s shares.
In addition, they required him to sign a draconian performance agreement.
The agreement explicitly stated that Shane must bring the company’s revenue to 1 billion dollars within three years.
If he failed, as the founder, he would have to transfer even more equity to the bank for free.
Shane knew his drone was a mature product that didn’t require massive capital for ongoing R&D.
Despite this, the bank had still opened its predatory maw, greedily demanding 70%—a level of avarice that was simply outrageous.
Usually, investors only proposed such harsh terms when they didn’t believe in a project, using them to mitigate their risk.
But Hall and his team clearly saw the potential of the “Skylark.”
If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have signed the LOI so readily or promised that the first round of funding would hit his account within ten days.
Faced with such predatory conditions, Shane didn’t want to accept the investment at all.
But he had no choice.
Hall and his people had already investigated him thoroughly, including every other potential investor he had approached.
They hadn’t just successfully persuaded those investors to drop Shane; they had also dropped heavy hints that if he didn’t accept their terms, no one else would ever invest in him.
Without investment, Shane would face a capital chain rupture.
At that point, the banks would immediately come knocking for his debts, seize all his assets, and use various shady American-style tactics—like fire sales—to crush him completely until he had nothing left.