Billionaire in Kingsman with a Marvel System

William knew Stark was right. MP3 wasn't the only decoding format on the market. FLAC might emerge soon, and he didn't hold the core patents. Producing wasn't that easy. That's why he hadn't produced a finished player himself. If he tried, companies holding the core patents would take a huge chunk out of him. Better to exchange the short-lived MP3 technology for valuable shares.

"I want shares in Stark Industries, same conditions as before. I can give you the voting rights," William had his sights on companies from his previous life but dared not mention them due to the special times. He aimed for companies in the Marvel universe instead. Stark Industries was the best choice, at least for the next eight years. With its future valuation soaring to trillions, the current valuation was only about $10 million.

"You really believe in this arms dealer?" Stark squinted.

"Of course. You're Tony Stark. Who else would I invest in? Plus, your connections in the USA can help a newly rich guy like me avoid many troubles."

"You think I'd help you after you just won a huge sum from me?"

"Hehe, whether you help or not, I don't know. But you wouldn't want me dead, right? Do you, Mr. Stark?"

"Is the world that dangerous? You're a billionaire," Stark was surprised by William's words. Seeing the dangerous glint in William's eyes, Stark was shocked. Was this kid approaching him for safety? If William heard this, he'd probably spit in Stark's face. He wasn't seeking safety from Stark, whose surroundings were the most dangerous. It was the money and influence of Stark Industries that he was after.

"Hehe, you're Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark. Of course, you wouldn't think anyone would target you. But I was a poor guy struggling for 200 pounds half a year ago. Now, the more money I have, the greater the danger. Maybe you'll understand my anxiety once you face danger yourself."

"Ha, me in danger?" Stark laughed as if he'd heard the funniest joke, "Alright, back to business. Don't waste my time. What's your offer?"

"4% of the shares."

"Forty billion? Are you crazy? You think a non-exclusive technology is worth forty billion?" Stark shook his head. "I'll give you 2% at most. No more."

"I don't just have patents. I have a ready-to-produce player. Imagine how hot it'll sell and how much it'll boost your stock price, Stark. In times like these, stock price is crucial. Or you can pay me in cash."

In this market crash, only a fool would buy with cash. "3%. That's my final offer. Take it or leave it."

"If I give you the voting rights, the more shares I get, the more beneficial it is for you. Think about it. With my shares, your voting rights exceed the critical 33%."

"Hehe," Stark rolled his eyes. He'd already thought of this. He wouldn't have agreed to a stock purchase otherwise.

"Alright, 30 billion it is," William didn't have high hopes for keeping the MP3 patent. Getting tens of billions was good enough. Otherwise, he'd need to invest enormous effort into a short-lived project. In the hands of a big company, it was different.

Thinking about how this 30 billion would turn into 300 billion in the future, William felt he hadn't lost out. Money wasn't the main thing now. Social status was. Adding the previous 4%, he'd have 7% of Stark Industries shares, equal shares with Tony Stark, with no risk of dilution.

William smiled as he shook hands with Stark. Stark thought, though his shares had decreased, his control hadn't. It had even increased. As long as the player sold well, his net worth would rise with the stock price. He no longer minded William taking 7% of the shares. They celebrated with Old Smith and shared a toast.

After discussing business, the three enjoyed whiskey and cigars.

While they were chatting, Old Smith's subordinate knocked and handed him a file. Old Smith dismissed the subordinate, opened the file, and placed some photos on the table. "Mind telling me about the Caesar's Palace incident? I'm curious why you'd be interested in a swindler and a con artist, enough to skip your favorite whiskey."

William didn't answer directly but asked, "Mr. Smith, you're the Las Vegas boss. Can I ask you an unfriendly question?"

"An unfriendly question?" Old Smith couldn't figure out what William might ask. He shook his head, "I can't guess. Just say it."

"If Caesar's Palace suddenly lost over a hundred million in cash, would the stock plummet the next day?"

"Of course," Old Smith patted the armrest, "William, did you get some intel? Is it about my Caesar's Palace?"

Old Smith's calm reaction to such news showed his experience with crises. "Don't worry, Mr. Smith. It's not about Caesar's Palace."

"Haha, that's good. So, someone else is in trouble?" Old Smith sipped his whiskey, "Who?"

William didn't beat around the bush, "Bellagio."

"Terry Benedict? I didn't expect anyone to target him. No one's ever taken a cent from us in Las Vegas. Are you sure those people can really rob Terry Benedict?"

William thought for a moment, "I'm not sure, but from what I know, they have a good chance. Terry Benedict has a bad habit that makes success more likely."

"What bad habit?" Smith couldn't understand. "Terry Benedict is known for being cautious and serious. He's managed Bellagio impeccably. He's expanded from one hotel to three in just ten years and even acquired MGM."

"He's too meticulous. Terry Benedict is a micromanager, doing his subordinates' work. Think about it, Mr. Smith. Don't Bellagio staff work lackadaisically, just going through the motions?"

Smith thought carefully and realized William was right, "So, this is our chance?"

William looked at Stark and Smith, their eyes lighting up, "Yes, our chance has come."

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