Chapter 471

BREAKING NEWS: Gideon Malick, billionaire, National Security Council member, and trusted adviser to the President of the United States, has allegedly exhausted his fortune after hosting an Avenger. The disgraced magnate has reportedly taken his daughter and moved into a friend’s home. Sources say the reason is too humiliating for him to discuss.

Malick had a sinking feeling that tomorrow’s headlines might actually read something like that.

Because when Evenson had quoted him two hundred million dollars, Malick had naturally assumed that was the price per unit.

Two hundred million per person.

Five hundred people.

That made... twenty billion dollars.

Twenty billion wasn’t exactly pocket change, but for a family as old and wealthy as the Malicks, it shouldn’t have been an insurmountable problem.

Shouldn’t.

The Malick family had been around since ancient Egypt. They had accumulated fortunes, estates, businesses, and investments across thousands of years.

But they weren’t dragons sitting on a mountain of gold, either.

Money went out as quickly as it came in.

Private jets. Yachts. Chefs. Security teams. Estates. Family celebrations. Birthdays. Weddings. Anniversaries. All the little luxuries that came with maintaining a dynasty instead of merely being rich.

And, as every old family eventually learned, a large forest attracted every kind of bird.

Over thousands of years, there were bound to be a few disasters wearing the family name.

Gamblers.

Addicts.

People who thought spending money was a competitive sport.

One particularly talented idiot could burn through the wealth accumulated by several generations.

That was why the Malicks had long ago stopped treating their fortune as a giant pile of cash.

They invested.

They had survived dynasties collapsing and civilizations changing. They understood a simple truth: capital had to produce more capital.

Gold was valuable, certainly.

But why?

Because people agreed it was valuable.

If humanity suddenly changed its mind about gold, a vault full of the stuff would become little more than expensive wall filler.

So the Malick family had invested most of its wealth into productive industries: oil companies, power plants, weapons manufacturers, and countless other enterprises.

Which left Malick with one immediate problem.

He needed to find out whether Evenson was willing to accept payment in installments.

If not, Malick would have to liquidate some of his family’s original holdings.

He really didn’t want to do that.

"About the price..." Malick rubbed his hands together, searching for the right words. "Well..."

He had negotiated business deals worth billions before.

But haggling over a price himself?

That was new.

Asking someone to let him pay in installments was even worse.

His entire life, Malick had simply named a price and bought what he wanted.

Apparently, old age had finally come for his dignity.

Evenson watched him struggle for words and frowned.

"What’s wrong with the price?"

"You’ve handed me five hundred people. I haven’t charged you for their lodging, food, training, or examinations. I don’t even charge you for the failed subjects."

Evenson’s expression suggested that Malick was being unreasonable.

"And I’m asking for two hundred million dollars total. You still think that’s expensive?"

Malick’s head snapped up so sharply his neck practically cracked.

"Two hundred million..."

He stared at Evenson.

"Total?"

"Of course."

"Not per person?"

"Why would it be per person?"

Evenson looked genuinely bewildered.

"What on earth did you think I was saying?"

Malick sat there in stunned silence.

Yes.

The two hundred million dollars was the total price.

And Evenson hadn’t made the mistake because he was broke or inexperienced.

Once upon a time, Evenson had controlled sixty billion dollars.

He hadn’t gotten the chance to spend much of it, or even properly enjoy having it, but that didn’t mean he had no understanding of money.

For example, he knew exactly how much Justin Hammer’s ridiculous Iron Man knockoffs had cost to manufacture.

Around a hundred million dollars.

And those things were barely worth calling Iron Man suits.

His Felheart Warriors were vastly more valuable.

So yes, Evenson had briefly considered charging two hundred million dollars per person.

Then he remembered a story.

The story of the river god.

The one with the golden axe.

The story itself was simple enough.

A man loses an axe in a river. A river god appears, tests his honesty, and rewards him with a golden axe.

But that raised an important question.

What was the proper way to use a river god?

If a river god could casually hand an honest stranger a golden axe, that meant he presumably had a lot of golden axes lying around.

The obvious solution was to catch him, lock him up, and make him hand over every last one.

But that was the amateur approach.

There were countless famous rivers in the world.

Which meant there were probably countless river gods.

So why stop at one?

Treat the first river god nicely. Get him to introduce you to the others. Then let all the river gods hand over their golden axes.

Now that was efficiency.

And at the moment, Gideon Malick was Evenson’s river god.

Evenson intended to treat him very, very well.

Then he would let Malick introduce him to more river gods.

There was another important detail.

No matter how large this deal became, the actual accounting would eventually pass through the Eredar twins.

After that...

Well.

There was no need to think any further.

Unfortunately, the river god currently receiving such generous treatment wasn’t looking particularly happy.

Malick was deeply troubled.

And, surprisingly, it wasn’t because of the money.

Two hundred million dollars was barely a rounding error compared to his family’s total wealth.

The problem was the enormous difference between what he’d expected to pay and what Evenson was actually asking.

A hundredfold difference was difficult to swallow.

Why was the price so low?

Was there some hidden catch?

Some trap?

Some spectacularly elaborate scheme waiting to spring shut around him?

Malick couldn’t figure it out.

Apparently, people really were impossible.

Charge too much, and they looked ready to die of a stroke.

Charge too little, and suddenly they became suspicious.

"Your price is certainly generous," Malick said carefully. "And I appreciate the gesture."

He paused.

"But I assume there are some additional conditions."

"There are."

Evenson smiled and nodded.

"Due to certain... historical circumstances, our company has maintained a very low profile for a long time. We’ve deliberately avoided contact with the outside world."

He hesitated briefly.

"But we don’t think we can continue operating that way."

Malick listened closely.

"The assets at Wolf’s Den Number Two are becoming somewhat..."

Evenson waved a hand.

"Complicated."

That was putting it mildly.

"So I’d like you to introduce us to some new friends."

"Friends?"

"People like the Rockefellers. The Morgans. Families with long histories and deep pockets."

Evenson’s smile widened slightly.

"And if you could also mention our company to them and encourage them to invest, that would be even better."

Malick finally understood.

So that was it.

The former Umbrella Corporation had apparently been something far darker in its previous life. A company like that couldn’t exactly operate openly.

But now, it seemed, the old problems had been dealt with.

Umbrella was preparing to step back into the world.

There was only one problem.

They had hidden themselves too well.

For years, they had operated almost entirely without meaningful connections to the world’s elite.

Their financial foundation had apparently depended heavily on assets acquired during World War II.

That might have been enough to sustain them for a while.

But even ancient fortunes eventually ran dry.

Now they needed new capital.

They needed investors.

And Malick was exactly the sort of man who could open those doors.

It was, Malick had to admit, an excellent plan.

If the world’s major financial dynasties became interested in Umbrella’s products and started pouring money into the company, then two hundred million dollars would become almost laughably insignificant.

"That’s no problem."

Malick nodded, visibly relieved.

"I have connections with quite a few major financial families. Not just wealthy people, either. The old families. The ones with real influence and centuries of history."

Some of them were personal friends.

"I can introduce you to them."

He leaned back slightly.

"As long as you can show them something they’re interested in, the rest will take care of itself."

For the first time that evening, Malick felt genuinely relaxed.

The bill was only two hundred million.

He had survived far worse.

And more importantly, he had just discovered that the mysterious company he’d been dealing with was interested in something he could provide without sacrificing a fortune.

Introductions.

Connections.

Access.

In Malick’s world, those things could be worth far more than money.

And Evenson had just bought them for two hundred million dollars.