Anna kept her focus, pen poised and ready, as Max continued, "It's called YouTube. The website was registered on February 14, just a few days ago. The founders are former PayPal employees."
"Secure as much stake as possible. Support the founders, and make sure we position ourselves firmly—no room for them to partner with anyone else."
"I want Knight's to be the key investor in this venture. Handle any issues that arise—I trust you can manage them."
He spoke with calm confidence, watching as Anna's expression shifted while she jotted down every detail he provided.
Although Max didn't offer extensive information, he had no doubt that Anna would investigate further on her own.
With her wealth of experience, she wouldn't encounter much difficulty—she wasn't new to this game. As a veteran, she had both the instinct and expertise to tackle the tasks he set for her.
Anna nodded, her brows drawn together slightly as she voiced her thoughts. "This is so new—it must still be in the idea stage. Are you sure we should move forward this quickly?"
"That's exactly why we should," Max replied, his tone calm but carrying an edge of decisiveness. "Getting in early gives us the chance to establish a strong foothold before the sharks smell the blood in the water."
Understanding his reasoning, Anna nodded again, her mind already mapping out the itinerary and strategic steps she'd need to execute the plan.
Her fingers paused briefly over her notepad, as if already listing names and contacts she would reach out to.
Meanwhile, Max mulled over YouTube's future. He remembered its significance clearly—this wasn't just another startup trying to break into a saturated market.
A year from now, Google would buy YouTube in a headline-making deal that defined the next era of digital media. The acquisition would become one of the most brilliant investments of the decade.
But Max had no plans to hold the stake for the long haul. His strategy was simple: acquire early, ride the wave, and cash out handsomely when Google came knocking.
If he could secure a substantial share now, the payoff could come far sooner than anyone would expect.
As Anna plotted her next moves, Max's thoughts drifted toward something that had been nagging at him. He decided to bring it up directly.
"By the way, Anna, a lot of people were staring at me—from the elevator to the office. Is there something I'm missing?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly at the memory.
Anna chuckled awkwardly, choosing her words with care. "Well, you know how the top floors of the tower are mostly occupied by KTech employees, along with one floor leased by the investment firm. They probably recognized you."
Max nodded thoughtfully, reminded of something Victor had mentioned in passing. Many employees—once loyal to his father—were now silently distancing themselves from him as his standing within the company declined.
'Well, that's nothing new in workplace culture,' he mused internally. 'Everyone's just trying to protect their own future. Loyalties bend when power shifts.'
He shook his head with mild amusement, recalling his own past life—his days spent toiling under others, buried under work and power games. Now the tables had turned, and he was the one moving pieces.
Setting those thoughts aside, he turned back to Anna with a focused look. "I'll transfer $10 million to the firm's account so you can handle these tasks smoothly without running into obstacles. If you need more, just say the word."
He paused, gathering his thoughts before adding, "Also, begin selling my stake in KTech. Prioritize time over profit—I want the deal completed as soon as possible."
He felt an overwhelming need to distance himself from KTech entirely. Let the executives and investors drown in their own politics. Let them scramble for influence while he pursued something far more valuable.
However, deep in the back of his mind, he secretly hoped those same greedy executives would attempt to court Tony Stark and experience the egotistical whirlwind that was the playboy of the era.
He almost pitied them. Almost.
Max chuckled to himself at the thought, shaking his head and breaking free from the reverie.
After laying out the immediate game plan, Max and Anna exchanged a firm handshake—one that carried the weight of ambition, shared trust, and an unspoken understanding.
Both smiled slightly, knowing full well what was brewing beneath the surface.
With his work at the firm complete, Max decided it was time to move on. His next destination: Cell Labs.
The T-Virus was now in his possession, and securing a deal with Cell Labs was critical. This partnership would allow him to launch a biotech company and begin assembling a capable research team.
Not only that, but once Anna sold his KTech stakes, the proceeds could be funneled into employee recruitment, state-of-the-art lab equipment, and high-grade security protocols for the new enterprise.
He moved with urgency, wasting no time as he exited the building. Soon, he was behind the wheel of his car, heading toward Harlem, where Cell Labs was based.
As he drove, Max's mind raced through possibilities. How much capital would he need to inject into this new venture?
Which path would yield the greatest return—pharmaceutical innovation, military contracts, or private-sector biotech?
The T-Virus had multiple potential uses depending on how it was developed and how much moral flexibility he was willing to entertain.
He thought of John—the man whose knowledge and life experience now resided within him.
John had been knee-deep in the horrors of the Umbrella Corporation's bioweapons program. Through him, Max had inherited not just technical know-how, but also a sense of caution.
Max knew he'd have to immerse himself in experiments, deeply and personally, if he wanted to exploit the T-Virus beyond the classic Bio-Organic Weapons. Caution was critical; this wasn't a power to wield recklessly.
Glancing sideways through the car window, Max observed the cityscape of New York.
Bustling, radiant, and alive—it felt different than anything he had experienced in his previous life.
Yet behind the neon glow and honking taxis, he could sense the darker underbelly. Crime thrived in the hidden corners, away from the polished façades.
He had no intention of wandering into those shadows anytime soon.
Despite his new familiarity with firearms, Max wasn't some caped crusader looking to tempt fate.
Unlike those adrenaline-fueled idiots with hero complexes, he placed a high value on self-preservation.
Zombies in Resident Evil might not use guns—but humans did. And humans were the true monsters.
They schemed, they plotted, and they killed with chilling efficiency. A single gang of criminals could take down even the most well-prepared man.
Max had no desire to test his luck trying to play hero—not in this city, not in this life.
Even as his mind briefly entertained thoughts of the crime syndicates that riddled New York's underground, his focus remained on the biotech empire he was about to build.
One misstep could doom the entire operation.
Before long, the roads of Harlem came into view, and Cell Labs wasn't far.
….
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