From Bullets To Billions - Chapter 434

434: The Black Mask 434: The Black Mask The location for the critical meeting was set not at the imposing Billion Bloodline building, but at the massive, sprawling research facility that Bobo had created.

Although Bobo had politely offered to come to him, the standard protocol when dealing with a chairman, Max had thought it was strategically far better if he paid them a visit instead.

He had a pressing logistical problem: there were too many people, especially the executive staff, who knew he was just an intern within the Fortis Group.

If the mysterious Chairman suddenly showed up at their headquarters, they would inevitably ask where Max was, potentially exposing his double life.

Besides the practical reasons, Max was also genuinely curious to see what exactly 400 million in initial investment money had been spent on.

Driving in one of their many luxurious vehicles, a sleek black sedan they had kept from the fallen Stable family’s assets, they pulled up right in front of the building.

The first thing Max saw was not the building itself, but a rather large, elaborate, three-tiered fountain located in the circular drive.

It was a chaotic, overly decorative display of sculpted metal and splashing water.

“And these companies wonder why they go broke,” Max commented flatly, his voice dry with contempt, even before the car had fully stopped.

“When they’re spending money on lavish, useless decorations like this, rather than trying to actually do their job and generate profit.” Na was speechless himself as he pulled the sedan to a seamless stop.

The facility was enormous, stretching incredibly wide across the landscape, almost like a giant, glass-and-steel car park that went on forever.

Although the Rejected Corps had some level of money, expensive cars, and accumulated assets, Na had never thought he would be seeing this level of pure corporate wealth in his lifetime.

It wasn’t just one grand building; it was one ostentatious structure after another, all built to project an image of endless capital.

The sheer opulence was breathtaking, even if it was clearly inefficient.

Standing rigidly in front of the sprawling facility was Bobo, who was wearing a crisp white overcoat, looking meticulously professional, as if she were one of the researchers herself and someone who never took a break.

By her side, there was another woman, standing stiffly and radiating an unmistakable aura of expensive disapproval.

“Who’s the woman in the sunglasses?” Warma asked Max, still sitting in the backseat, running a quick mental file check.

“She’s Karen Stern, one of my aunts.

I told you she might be here,” Max confirmed.

The information that Chad had grudgingly given had come in handy after all, proving his worth.

Max wondered if facing his manipulative aunt would be more of a hindrance or a strategic benefit to their objective.

Na finally moved, getting out of the driver’s seat.

He swiftly walked around the car to open the doors for Warma and Max.

“That’s quite the big guard he has,” Karen commented immediately, her voice sharp and critical behind her dark, designer sunglasses.

She addressed Bobo but was clearly speaking for the Chairman’s benefit.

“Did he really have to bring security?

Does he not trust us?” “It appears that the Billion Bloodline group has recently been involved in some significant trouble that warrants high security,” Bobo answered, defending the investor before they even stepped out.

She was eager to keep the deal on track.

“So, it’s understandable.

And on top of that, not a single person has seen the face of the Chairman to this day, but they guaranteed that we would be seeing him in person.” When Warma stepped out first, both Bobo and Karen were visibly surprised.

Given the scale of the company, they initially assumed the first person to emerge from the back seat, Warma, would be the Chairman.

Of such a big, powerful venture capital company, they imagined that the true leader would have some type of instantly recognizable, dominating presence.

“I don’t think that’s the Chairman,” Bobo whispered quickly to Karen, slightly deflated.

“That’s merely their messenger.

The Curts family told me about him, he handles the logistics.” So now they knew the next, and final, person to head out of the car would be the legendary Chairman.

Stepping out, dressed head-to-toe in the meticulously tailored black suit, with a well-built body that the perfect fit only emphasized, was a man.

But instead of a face, he wore an odd-shaped, seamless black glass mask that covered his head entirely.

“Nice to meet you,” the man said, his voice subtly altered by the voice modulator Max had installed, giving it a deeper, more resonant baritone.

“I am the Chairman of the Billion Bloodline Group, Mr.

Black.” He slightly straightened the lapel of the suit, a small, unnecessary gesture that projected confidence.

“I apologize profoundly for my appearance, but I would like to keep my face a closely guarded secret.

I assure you, however, that I am here in person, and that is how important it is for me to finalize a deal with one of the most promising members of the Stern family.” When Bobo and Karen looked at the man, since they could only see his impeccably tailored body and the visible skin on his hands, they were forced to focus entirely on his physique and posture.

The human imagination was a strange and powerful thing; when people couldn’t see something, they always tended to imagine them as something far better than what they were in reality.

Therefore, both women, judging only by the sharp, powerful body and the clear, unblemished skin they could see on his hands, immediately concluded that the Chairman had to be quite the handsome young man.

“Well, he did say we would be seeing him, not exactly his face,” Karen muttered under her breath, a grudging note of acceptance in her voice, instantly recognizing that the mystery only enhanced his power.

At that moment, the screen on the mask flickered to life, showing two white, almond-shaped eyes and then a bright, digital smile that stretched across the face.

It was Max’s subtle nod to their imagined impression.

“Alright, why don’t I give you a tour of our facility and show you precisely what research we have going on,” Bobo offered, moving to take control of the conversation.

“I don’t want you to feel shortchanged, and I want you to feel comfortable with what your money will be going into.

I’m sure, as you know, this isn’t a purely profits game, and I think by the terms of your proposal, you understand that as well, that this is about high-level, human progression.” Max didn’t say anything to dispute her characterization; he merely gave a slow, deliberate nod of his masked head to indicate his compliance.

He had heard from Warma that these research projects were typically huge money sinks that rarely paid off.

Max wasn’t exactly the type to use his money for the sake of progressing humanity’s welfare, but even more so right now, he couldn’t just keep sinking money into things if they weren’t going to produce a tangible weapon or an eventual profit.

As Bobo began to show him around, leading the small group toward the front entrance, a figure was seen walking hastily out.

The man had a distinctive scar across his lip.

“Wait a second?” Max said, instantly stopping and turning his head, the voice modulator failing to hide the shock in his tone.

“Evon…” When Evon, the gangster and Gilt Rat member, turned to look at who had just called out his name, and his real name, no less, in the place he was supposed to be working secretly, his expression was a mask of sheer panic.

The high-ranking member of the Gilt Rats was left completely wondering who the heck this masked, black-suited person could possibly be.