"Since you're here to talk investment, you must have done your homework," Julian said, his voice level as he leaned back in his chair. He was no longer the jittery transmigrator who had first met Topaz; the tournament and the success of Arceus Studio had forged a new steel in his spine. "Given our current revenue streams, do you really think Arceus needs the IPC's credits?"
Topaz didn't blink. She sat with a poise that commanded the room, a faint, professional smile playing on her lips.
"If you were a typical businessman solely interested in accumulating wealth, I wouldn't have bothered making the trip," she countered. "But we've analyzed your patterns, Julian. Your goal in promoting Pokémon is clearly far grander than mere profit. You're building an ecosystem, a world. And with the Interstellar Peace Corporation as your partner, you can achieve that dream across the entire galaxy in a fraction of the time it would take you alone."
Julian nodded slowly. He wasn't surprised she had seen through him. A normal mogul wouldn't dump trillions back into server infrastructure and experimental haptic tech the moment a check cleared.
Topaz's department had run the numbers. The cost of the first-generation game was a drop in the bucket compared to the massive overhead Julian was taking on for the second and third generations. To implement the "Self-Iterating AI" he wanted for the global Johto rollout, the industry standard for investment was 300 billion credits just for the pilot—Julian was aiming for a 500-billion-credit gold standard.
Between hiring top-tier talent, hosting galactic-scale celebrations, and building physical battle hubs on the Luofu, Julian was essentially living "paycheck to paycheck" on a multi-trillion-credit scale. He was a dreamer, and the Strategic Investment Department specialized in betting on dreams with high yields.
"Is the IPC's 'Helping Hand' really a hand?" Julian asked, his tone sharpening. "The only reason we aren't already dominant in IPC-controlled sectors is the blockade from your Traditional Gaming Department. Using a problem your own company created as a bargaining chip... that's hardly a show of sincerity."
Topaz felt a flicker of frustration. If those "old fossils" in the Traditional Department hadn't been so protective of their stagnant monopolies, she could have secured Arceus months ago when it was still in beta. Now, the price was skyrocketing every hour.
"I won't deny that the IPC is not a monolith," Topaz said, bowing her head slightly in a gesture of genuine apology. "The friction from the Traditional Department has been... regrettable. We are willing to pay a premium to smooth over that 'trouble.' Name your terms. If the potential for cooperation is there, we are prepared to be very flexible."
"Oh? That's quite an opening," Julian smiled. He hadn't expected her to put the ball so firmly in his court. "Please, give me a moment to consult with my staff."
Topaz nodded, looking unbothered. While she waited, she pulled out a pair of high-tech glasses—a portable virtual interface that cost more than a small spaceship—and began absentmindedly teasing Numby.
Julian retreated to his inner office and immediately opened a holographic channel with Colorful Star.
"The IPC is ready to sign. I need a valuation report based on a 20% equity stake. Make it aggressive."
"Understood, Boss. Give me thirty minutes," Colorful Star replied. She hesitated for a moment. "But Boss... if we take IPC money, how will the Xianzhou Alliance react? We're based here, after all."
"I'll handle Yukong," Julian said. "Besides, we're just looking at the menu right now. We haven't ordered yet."
Next, he pinged a private, encrypted line. Silver Wolf appeared on the screen, looking bored and blowing a bubble with her gum.
"What now? I'm busy," she muttered.
"The IPC wants in. I need a list of technical documents—core tech they haven't made public. Stuff I can use for the third-gen 'Real World' project."
The IPC's main firewalls were legendary, built by the likes of Screwllum and the Intelligentsia Guild. Even for Silver Wolf, a full breach was a long-term project with a high risk of the IPC simply "pulling the plug." But a directory? A list of what was inside the vault? That was child's play for her.
"I can get you a table of contents," Silver Wolf said, her eyes suddenly sparkling. "But it'll cost you. One week of 'Wisdom Projection' battles. You, me, and the Pokémon, with the link active. No algorithms."
Julian winced. A week of high-intensity link battles with Silver Wolf would leave him mentally exhausted. "A week? You're trying to drain my brain dry."
"Hehe. I believe in you, Julian," she teased.
"Fine. But I get to set the schedule. If I have a company crisis, we reschedule."
"Deal. Check your inbox in five minutes."
Silver Wolf vanished, and Julian's "exhausted" face instantly snapped back to a sharp, calculating grin. He had his leverage. Now, it was time to see just how much Topaz was willing to pay for a seat at the table.