Godly Investor: A Hundred Trillion Dollars For Investment And Donations

Not long after the spokesman blinked, taken aback by Ethan's question.

"Contact the real owner?" he repeated, almost incredulously. "Why would you need to do that?"

Ethan's calm gaze didn't waver, his silence prompting the spokesman to consider the possibility.

At that moment a sudden thought struck him, and his eyes widened. "Wait… are you thinking of buying the whole company?"

He sat back in his seat, stunned. 'How much money does this guy have?'

he wondered silently, but his skepticism quickly took over. Shaking his head, he leaned forward, his tone firm.

"Ethan, let me stop you right there. Do you know how much this company is worth?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow, still not saying a word.

"Ten billion dollars," the spokesman continued, emphasizing each word as if trying to drive the point home.

"And that's just the domestic valuation. If you include the international bodies tied to it, the number shoots even higher."

At that moment the spokesman leaned closer, his voice dropping as if to ensure Ethan understood.

"You shouldn't even think about it. The owners wouldn't sell even if you offered twice the amount. This isn't some small operation—they're entrenched in global markets."

At that moment Ethan leaned slightly forward, his voice calm but firm.

"I still want the contact information,"

he said.

"If nothing else, I can report these so-called directors to the owner. They should know what's going on in their company."

At that moment they arrived at the company.

However the spokesman hesitated, clearly weighing the pros and cons. After a moment, he sighed and parked the car.

He then cribbled down the number on a piece of paper.

"Fine," he said, handing it to Ethan. "But don't get your hopes up. They're not likely to listen to just anyone."

Ethan pocketed the paper without a word and stepped out of the car. The spokesman hurried to catch up, opening the door to the sleek office building for him. They walked through the polished lobby, the sound of their shoes echoing softly against the marble floor.

At the meeting room door, the spokesman stopped and gave Ethan a quick glance, almost as if he wanted to say something. Instead, he sighed again and pushed the door open.

Ethan walked in confidently, his steps measured as he surveyed the room.

Five directors sat around the large mahogany table, their attention immediately snapping to Ethan. Their initial expressions of curiosity turned to shock as they took in the young man standing before them. One of them leaned slightly forward, whispering something to another, clearly taken aback.

"Is this a joke?"

their expressions seemed to say. Ethan, barely out of his teens and looking more like a university student than a businessman, didn't fit the image they had expected.

He remained calm, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room as if he hadn't noticed their reactions.

At that moment the five directors exchanged quick glances, their lips twitching into barely concealed smiles. A kid like this? their expressions seemed to say. They clearly thought they had hit the jackpot.

Ethan took a seat at the table, his expression calm and composed, while the spokesman settled beside him, his body language noticeably tense. One of the directors leaned forward, fixing his gaze on the spokesman.

"So," he began smoothly, "is this young man really the one behind the purchase? The one who owns the brand?"

Before the spokesman could respond, Ethan interjected, his tone firm but polite.

"Yes. I am."

The directors' eyes flicked to Ethan, and they put on exaggerated expressions of surprise.

"Oh, how impressive," one of them said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Another added, "So young and already in the business world. That's remarkable."

The facade of flattery quickly shifted into patronizing tones as they launched into their pitch.

"Of course," one of them said, leaning back in his chair, "someone your age probably doesn't know much about business. It's not easy, you see. You'll need guidance—mentorship."

"Not from us, of course," another cut in with a feigned look of regret. "We're far too busy to provide that kind of help."

"But we can help you with this investment," the first one said, sliding a document across the table toward Ethan.

"We've outlined everything for you here. It's the best path forward for someone in your position."

The contract sat on the table, the directors watching Ethan expectantly, their smiles as polished as the table's surface. Ethan glanced down at the papers, his expression unreadable, while the spokesman shifted uncomfortably beside him, clearly uneasy with the unfolding scene.

One of the directors tapped the contract lightly with his finger, his tone smooth and persuasive.

"We're offering a partnership that will elevate your brand to levels you can't even imagine,"

he began, glancing at the others for support.

"With the company's influence, both nationally and internationally, your brand will dominate the market."

Another director chimed in, his voice dripping with confidence. "We'll handle promotions, use our network to put your name in the spotlight, and even organize events for your brand—completely free of charge."

The third director leaned forward, smiling as if he was doing Ethan a huge favor.

"In return, all we ask is 25 percent of every production your brand makes. Considering the scale of what you're looking at, it's a fair trade."

However Ethan remained silent, his gaze fixed on the contract in front of him.

The directors exchanged subtle glances, misinterpreting his quiet demeanor as hesitation or naivety.

"And let's not forget," the first director added with a knowing look, "you've already invested so much into this. It's obvious you're bound to produce a massive amount, and we'll ensure that production reaches its full potential."

The directors sat confidently, their smiles widening as they laid out their pitch.

Ethan listened, his expression calm, but his mind was working at lightning speed, piecing together their true intentions.

'Their game is obvious,'

Ethan thought, his sharp gaze scanning the room.

'They'll take 25 percent of the production under the guise of promotions and events, sell it all during the hype they create, and once their cut is gone,'

they'll pull back entirely.

He imagined how the sudden halt in promotions and events would leave his brand stranded, the public's attention deliberately redirected elsewhere.

The directors wouldn't stop there—they'd make sure Ethan's sales struggled, slowly squeezing him until he felt the pressure to act.

That's when they'd strike again, Ethan mused, his thoughts clear. They'd present another contract, offering to "save" the brand by buying it outright at a fraction of its worth. They'd leave me no choice but to sell to avoid sinking completely.'

Ethan's face betrayed nothing, but he had already mapped out every twist of their scheme in his mind.

At that moment Ethan tapped the contract lightly with his fingers, his voice steady as he addressed the directors. Experience more tales on My Virtual Library Empire

"So, according to this contract," he began, "the company already gets 2% of the revenue my brand generates. That's fine; I agreed to that. But now, you're asking for this as well."

He gestured toward the clause about the additional 25% of production.

At that moment he leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but resolute.

"I don't know what this is supposed to be, but I won't be signing it. I'll handle the promotions myself."

Upon hearing what Ethan just said.

The directors exchanged quick, irritated glances, their polished facades cracking slightly. One of them leaned forward, his tone sharp but masked with feigned concern.

"Ethan, you're inexperienced in this field. We're trying to help you. These promotions and events are crucial to making your brand a success. You can't do this alone."

Immediately another director nodded, chiming in.

"If you refuse this deal, you're taking an unnecessary risk. You might end up losing everything."

However Ethan's calm expression didn't waver as he listened.

The room grew tense, the directors clearly realizing their initial plan wasn't working. After a brief, whispered discussion among themselves, they presented another contract.

"This is a fairer offer," one of them said with a tight smile, sliding the document toward Ethan.

"You'll only give us 15% of the production instead of 25%. It's a win-win situation."

The directors exchanged sly glances before one of them leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table. "Here's what we can do for you, Ethan," he began smoothly.

"We'll organize a live event for your brand. Top promoters will be invited—big names in the industry. They'll be the ones to boost your brand's visibility."

Another director chimed in, his tone laced with mock concern.

"But keep in mind, this is a fifty-fifty gamble. These top promoters might not take to your brand. If they don't, the event might not deliver the results you're expecting. That's why it's in your best interest to reconsider the other contract."

The third director spoke up, his voice firm.

"Whatever you decide, Ethan, you need to sign one of these contracts. And there's no other option."

At that moment Ethan leaned back slightly, inhaling deeply to calm the tension rising within him. The weight of their words hung heavy in the room. Before he could respond, the spokesman, sensing the pressure building, stepped in.

"How about we make an adjustment?"

he suggested cautiously.

"Let's reduce it to ten percent. That way, Mr.Ethan gets a better deal, and the company still profits."

However Ethan's gaze remained on the directors, his expression steady, though his mind churned. He stood abruptly, smoothing his jacket.

"I need to use the restroom,"