Marvel and Beyond

Max entered the study room and immediately noticed a box in the corner, overflowing with files and other items.

Curious, he carefully arranged the box on the desk and sat down to inspect its contents.

The first file he pulled out had Cell Labs printed on the cover. Beneath it was another file, labeled with the initials KTech. 

There were also a few other folders, some containing accounting records and technical details, their covers dusty and curling at the edges from age.

At the bottom of the box, Max found a few awards and a framed photo of himself with his parents. 

Another frame showed his father alongside his grandparents, all dressed in formal attire, proud smiles frozen in time. 

The glass was slightly cracked in one corner, as if from a long fall. He ran a thumb across the edge of the photo, silent for a moment.

The remaining items were just office décor—old paperweights, a couple of pens, and a miniature model of a circuit board encased in glass. 

Nothing particularly important. What puzzled Max, however, was why Victor had sent such a large box of personal materials when all he'd asked for were files related to KTech and Cell Labs.

Shrugging off his confusion, Max decided to skim through the files and make a note to later ask Victor about the surplus items. Still, a faint unease lingered at the back of his mind.

He began with the Cell Labs file.

It detailed a small lab in Harlem, recently founded by ten researchers. These individuals had once worked for major pharmaceutical corporations but had faced significant obstacles. 

Their former employers had tightly controlled their research, refused to acknowledge their contributions, and in several cases, had outright taken credit for their discoveries.

Frustrated and disillusioned, the researchers had broken away and established their own independent lab. 

Unfortunately, their noble venture was met with more hardship. Lacking both recognition and funding, they found themselves ostracized by the broader scientific community backed by capitalism and struggled to gain a foothold.

They shared similar backgrounds—experienced, but not celebrated. Despite years in the industry, none had received any major awards or achieved significant breakthroughs credited directly to them. 

Without prestige or marketable patents, they had failed to attract investors.

Then came Arthur Knight.

Arthur had apparently heard about their plight and proposed a solution. He offered to acquire the lab, providing funding and a chance for the scientists to operate freely under the Knight banner. 

It would have been a lifeline. But before any agreements could be finalized, Arthur and his wife died in a tragic accident, leaving the matter unresolved—forgotten in the shuffle of legalities and grief.

Max frowned as he flipped through the profiles of the researchers. Their expertise spanned various fields—biology, botany, virology, and related disciplines. 

Each résumé was rich in experience, yet their accomplishments were always footnotes under someone else's success.

He sighed, sympathizing with their struggle. "What could Dad have seen in them?"

The Knight family had never dipped its toes into the pharmaceutical world. KTech was an electronics and circuits company, focused on hardware innovation and telecommunications. 

So why had his father been so interested in a struggling, obscure biotech lab?

Max drummed his fingers on the desk, his gaze lingering on a small sticky note tucked inside the back of the file. In faded ink, it read:

"Biotech? Potential for exploration!"

Max froze. The handwriting was familiar. His father's. A whisper from the past.

"Well... I could always ask the lab representative himself," he murmured, his eyes narrowing at the profile of Alex—a seasoned veteran in the field of biology. 

At forty, Alex had a reputation for leadership and a soft-spoken but decisive demeanor. If anyone knew what was really happening inside Cell Labs, it would be him.

Max resolved to dig deeper into the matter.

He hummed thoughtfully as he picked up the file on KTech. Unlike Cell Labs, this one was noticeably thicker—expected, given that the company had been active for over two years and had launched several projects, albeit with mixed success.

As he skimmed through the file, Max learned that KTech had been founded by his father with the ambition of revolutionizing communication hardware—designing smarter chips, integrating new circuitry designs, and perhaps even competing with established tech players.

But things hadn't gone as envisioned. The company faced one roadblock after another: patent disputes, contract rejections, delays in R&D. 

To keep the business afloat, Arthur had been forced to take on smaller contracts, often supplying parts to larger corporations—work that paid the bills but did little for the company's image.

To raise funds during its first year, Arthur had issued a significant number of shares to private investors. 

In theory, it was a sound move to expand the company's capital. But now, those same investors seemed intent on seizing control of everything Arthur had built.

Max scanned through a list of completed projects, most of them short-term service contracts for corporate clients. 

His eyes eventually landed on the section outlining his current stake in the company. He let out a bitter sigh and shook his head.

"25% ownership should be significant—if only every other investor wasn't plotting to push me out."

He leaned back, running a hand through his hair, the weight of reality pressing against his chest. 

In principle, public ownership was supposed to distribute risk and encourage innovation. But in practice? It was a slow war of attrition, especially when surrounded by opportunists.

Max suspected the other shareholders didn't really care whether he could run the company or not. They weren't afraid of reckless decisions. No, what they feared was Tony Stark.

If Stark decided to invest elsewhere or withdraw his interest, the market would tank. So, to secure their profits before that could happen, the shareholders were circling like vultures, exploiting KTech's instability—either by riding Tony's influence or manipulating stocks behind the scenes.

Turning to the patents section, Max let out a humorless chuckle. The company's patent holdings were meager—basic designs and minor iterations that had little value in a competitive tech landscape.

"With so few patents," Max muttered, "this company will never rise."

He reflected bitterly on the giants of the tech world. Patents were everything—they were currency, reputation, and weapon all rolled into one. 

Stark Industries, for instance, had survived its controversial pivot away from weapons manufacturing solely because of its extensive patent portfolio. 

Those blueprints, algorithms, and materials kept the company profitable even during transition.

To grow and sustain itself, a company needed several key assets: robust patents, production capabilities, distribution channels, and an administration that actually supported its leadership.

KTech failed on nearly every count.

No meaningful patents. A single manufacturing plant, barely sufficient to handle small contracts. No real distribution network. No marketable brand. 

And the executives? Max grimaced as he scanned their names—few of them had abstained and most voted against him during recent board decisions.

The company was eating itself alive.

Running his hand over his face in frustration, Max leaned back in his chair, the file still open in his other hand.

"This is a lost cause," he whispered. But even as the words escaped, something inside him resisted.

Was this all his father left behind? A sinking company, a lab full of underdogs, and a room full of dusty memories?

Or was there something more?

Max sat in silence for a moment, then looked again at the sticky note:

"Biotech? Potential for exploration!"

He straightened in his seat.

Maybe his father had seen something the others hadn't. Maybe there was still a play to be made.

If these forgotten scientists were his father's last gamble, then it was time he met all the players face-to-face.

….

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