“I thought this world was simpler than it is!”
Shane looked up at the sky, but he felt no real despondency.
After all, he was still far from desperate.
While he had given up a massive chunk of his equity and signed a harsh performance agreement, he had gained tangible benefits in return.
Within ten days, five million dollars would appear in his account.
That was the first injection of capital!
Beyond that, he would gain a group of experienced employees who required no training.
The price was that the company might eventually no longer belong to him.
But so what?
It wasn’t as if he lacked the chance to make a name for himself in this world.
As long as he ensured the timeline remained on track, he held two golden opportunities to multiply his assets.
When the time came, shorting or acquiring stock in Stark Industries, and later Hammer Industries, would allow him to make a fortune.
“The prerequisite is that I have enough seed capital before those opportunities arrive,” Shane muttered to himself.
“If you want to use a lever to move the earth, you don’t just need a fulcrum; you need a sturdy enough lever.”
He shook off his frustration and headed back to his pickup truck.
As for the drone prototype, it now belonged to the private bank.
The manager needed to show the shareholders what a high-quality project they had snatched up and how they had secured the entire cake for a pittance.
This was the capital market.
No blood was visible, but every bite taken was hidden within a gory calculation.
Just as he was currently targeting the future stock of Stark Industries, others were greedily looking to drain his “blood” without paying a fair price.
“I have to keep my head down and work hard for now.”
Shane sat in the car, looking at the red light ahead with a sneer of disdain.
“One year.
I have to grow the company within one year, and then quickly sell off a portion of the shares once they’ve appreciated by 30%.
I’ll pass the cost I’m supposed to pay onto someone else.”
He had it all figured out.
“I only signed an agreement saying that if revenue doesn’t hit 500 million within three years, I forfeit all equity.
I never signed a clause saying I couldn’t transfer shares in the meantime.”
“I don’t know if they’re too greedy or if they just don’t respect me at all.”
Shane chuckled, his mood finally clearing up.
“Fine by me.
As long as I can sell the ‘Skylark’ at the right price, I’ve achieved my goal.
A version of me not tied down by a company is the one that’s truly free.”
After his moment of satisfaction, he frowned again.
As he started the engine, he pondered his next move.
“However, when I develop the ‘Hummingbird’ drone, I absolutely cannot use any data from the ‘Skylark.’ Otherwise, it’ll be considered intellectual property theft.”
Fortunately, the Hummingbird’s airframe was completely different from the Skylark’s.
Even without referencing any data, there wouldn’t be much of a loss.
A bold thought occurred to him.
“Maybe I can divert some of the Skylark company’s development funds to the Hummingbird’s R&D.”
But this required extreme caution.
“I need to find a trustworthy and highly capable accountant to make this seamless, so no one can catch me.”
But where would he find such an accountant?
Shane sat back at his office desk and opened his laptop.
He scoured every recruitment site, but he couldn’t find a satisfactory candidate.
Under the pressure of high American student loans, almost everyone who successfully graduated was a talent.
After all, if you weren’t talented, there was no point in spending that much money on an education, and you certainly couldn’t handle the soul-crushing pressure of repayment.
Thinking about those predatory loans was enough to make anyone shiver.
After browsing for a while, Shane remained dissatisfied because the resumes of the accountants online were too “clean.”
This didn’t mean they lacked experience; it meant they had no criminal records.
His plan was inherently shady: embezzling funds, or even using company money to secretly build a second company that belonged only to him.
He didn’t dare use someone who had no history of creative accounting or misappropriation.
If he hired a “clean” person and they had a sudden “outburst of justice” one day, reporting his actions, he would lose everything.
“Where exactly do I find someone?”
Shane tapped his fingers on the desk, his brow furrowed in thought.
Suddenly, a spark of inspiration hit him—Hell’s Kitchen!
That was a hive of gangs and a melting pot of all sorts.
Finding an accountant with a criminal record there would be as easy as breathing.
But then he hesitated.
“People from Hell’s Kitchen might not be reliable either.”
He wasn’t afraid of them stealing money—that money belonged to the company and the investment bank anyway.
No matter how much they stole, it wouldn’t come out of his pocket.
What he feared was inviting a wolf into his house—someone who appeared obedient but sold him out behind his back.
That would be a major problem.
After weighing his options, Shane decided to stop overthinking and just move.
Whether it worked out was up to fate, but he had to find someone to fill the gap for now.
He knew very well that if he could find a suitable accountant and appoint them as the CFO before the bank’s people arrived, they would have no excuse to interfere with that position.
But if the bank’s team arrived and the company still had no CFO, they would propose sending their own person.
Even if he wanted to refuse, he would have no legitimate excuse.
Right now, though he was the boss of the company, he was more like a general on the front lines.
A general in the field may ignore certain orders, but one cannot simply disregard an imperial decree from the capital without a damn good reason.
“Next stop!
Hell’s Kitchen!”
The corner of Shane’s mouth curled up.
*A figure like Kingpin is beyond my reach for now.
I probably won’t run into Daredevil either.
But that kid who hasn’t become Spider-Man yet?
I might just cross paths with him.*
He got back into his car, left the company, and sped toward the streets of Hell’s Kitchen.
The atmosphere there was worlds apart from the outside.
Shane moved between various job-posting hubs, specifically looking for people with accounting certifications.
After a round of screening, he interviewed dozens of candidates.
He weeded out the fakes and the slackers, eventually narrowing it down to three people.
Shane mocked them internally.
*DC has the talent-filled Gotham, and Marvel has the equivalent in Hell’s Kitchen.*
This place was truly a den of hidden dragons—or rather, a cesspool of hidden filth.
He had seen plenty of people who embezzled funds to buy lottery tickets or gamble. Find the original chapter at g.com.
But he had never seen someone who embezzled funds to take his boss’s daughter out to get high on drugs.
Call him an amateur?
He at least knew to use drugs to get the daughter hooked so he could live off her forever.
Call him a pro?
He never stopped to think that if he dragged the boss’s daughter into the gutter, the boss would never let him live.
Thinking of the idiot he had just interviewed, Shane couldn’t help but smirk, but he quickly composed himself and focused his gaze on the remaining three.
“Regarding the CFO position, I have only three requirements.”
Shane’s voice was calm, but it carried an unquestionable authority.
“First, I need you to have a clean identity on the surface—clean enough that no one can find a flaw.”
“Second, you must work without leaving a trace.
You cannot be caught.
And, you must learn to read the room.”
As he spoke, Shane’s gaze slowly swept over the three of them, sharp as a blade.
The first point wasn’t hard.
It was just a matter of forging an identity.
In Hell’s Kitchen, there was no shortage of talent for forging documents or changing identities.
The second point was a subtle hint: once you’re in the company, you answer only to me.
If things get dangerous, you step up and take the fall for me.
As soon as Shane finished speaking, one of the three showed a visible flicker of hesitation, which Shane caught instantly.
Shane spoke up immediately.
“Anyone who can’t do that can leave now.”
The man felt the weight of Shane’s gaze and hurriedly tried to explain, “Mr.
Grinter, I can do it!
Believe me!”
Shane simply waved his hand, his tone cold.
“You can leave.”
“Mr.
Grinter, please, just one more chance…”
The man tried to plead.
Shane stopped looking at him and turned to the other two.
Those two took the hint immediately.
they glared menacingly at the pleader and even rolled up their sleeves, looking ready to throw down.
One had to admit, people from Hell’s Kitchen were all sharp.
Those who weren’t had long since been fitted with concrete shoes and dropped into the ocean.
Seeing Shane’s firm stance, the man had no choice but to slink away, full of regret.
Once he was gone, Shane let his gaze linger on the remaining two with a meaningful look.
The reason he insisted on kicking that man out wasn’t because he suspected the man wouldn’t follow orders, but because he didn’t dare use him.
Shane saw it clearly: that man had reservations, yet he desperately wanted the job.
What caused such a contradiction?
The answer was simple—his family.
The man wanted the job because of the high salary to support his family.
But his hesitation also came from his family.
If his family were ever threatened, he would betray Shane without a second thought.
That was almost a certainty.
After all, family was his greatest weakness.