The System Won't Work Unless I Have Girlfriends

Three days have passed.

I've been in America since Friday. So far, we've had discussions with three companies about sponsorship, and we managed to secure two of them. However, one company wanted shares in the team, which we declined.

Now we're waiting for the last company. Currently, Grandpa, Uncle Nick, and I are sitting in the lobby, waiting for someone to call us. I noticed this skyscraper is actually a hotel too.

"Excuse me. I'm going to the restroom."

Grandpa said as I watch his wide back walking away.

As the time pass.

"Oh, they're here."

I turned around and saw three people approaching, with one man standing out because of his suit.

"Brawn GP, is that correct?" the man asked.

"Yes," Uncle Nick responded.

A tall man with short silver hair and square-shaped glasses stood before us. He was dressed in a white suit and wore gloves. He continued, "Good. My name is Claude Ringheart. Madam Flower wishes to speak only with the person in charge. The other will have to stay here and wait."

The man's gaze was clearly not directed at me.

As they talked, I noticed the strange vibe in this building. The people here—well, they had a presence that reminded me of the mafia. Something about them felt... off.

"My apologies," Claude interrupted. "As Madam said, it must be the man in charge." Then he looked directly at me. "Young man, Madam Flower is waiting. Please hurry."

"But, he's... a minor, sir," Uncle Nick protested.

"That's not your choice," Claude responded coldly. "Madam only wants to speak with the man behind the gun."

I sighed, "Uncle... don't worry. I got this."

"Wait, kid. Are you sure? I mean…" Uncle Nick leaned in to whisper, "I think this place is run by the mafia."

I gave him a confident smile. "Nah, I'd win," I said as I wheeled myself forward in my wheelchair.

Honestly, when I set up this meeting a month ago, I never expected they'd agree to it. After all, this investment company's owner is currently the richest person in the world—a figure like Warren in my world.

As the elevator went up, I started regretting that famous last words. I could smell gunpowder from the three men behind me. Well, this is America. But, what if they really are mafia? And Madam Flower... that sounds scary. Running away is out of the question, especially since I'm still recovering and stuck in a wheelchair.

Ding!

The elevator and soon I arrive at minimalist interior where I saw a woman, cigarette on her lips busy on her laptop. When I finally met her, I was taken aback.

"Oh, boy, you're here. Wait a minute, this won't take times," We all paused as she stood up and walk to the three man, dogeza on the floor.

"Spare their life, Madam Flower! Spare at least them and other because the mistake I've done! Before my death... please step on me."

The fuck? Did he just say please step on me?

The woman sigh, she remove her glasses and look down to the man with disgusting face, "As if. That's a revolting fetish you have, vermin. I'd rather step on dogshit rather... worthless hair of yours—ptuh!" She spit! "Don't worry though, I've a better idea. Claude! Make him a janitor at the orca aquarium."

"Yes, Madam!"

"And, he'll wear a penguin costume." She add.

As I watch him the poor man was being drag away pitifully... By his looks, this guy must be an elite executive but this woman make him a janitor in second and change his entire life. Well, it's better than become a homeless without a job. Then again, my guess is, he'll die when the orcas mistake him for a real penguin.

"Right then, little boy. Please take a seat..."

"Uh... thank you," I said, doing nothing more than complying.

When she saw me she paused, "Sorry about that, boy," she said.

Yeah, you should pay attention next time.

"Ahem. Before we get started, my name is Masamune Makabe, Madam. It's an honor to meet you."

"Likewise. My name is Hana Kirisaki. We're both Japanese, so let's speak in our mother tongue," she said.

Who is this woman? And how old is she? Twenty? She looks so young to be this rich.

Kirisaki Hana.

She had dark purple hair tied in a ponytail. Her outfit consisted of a fur coat wrapped around her neck, a jet-black jacket, and what appeared to be a white shirt underneath.

"Very well, then let's—"

"Sorry to interrupt you again, boy," she cut me off. "I'll get straight to the point. I'm not interested in the race team you're building. I'm interested in someone who can capitalize so quickly in this harsh situation. By using your grandpa names. You went from one to 60ish million dollars in just a few months. Still, you're... of course, just a brat, and the same age as my daughter too. I'm very impressed, little boy" She said as she took off her glasses showing her reddish-brown eyes, and a smile.

Hm, she must've done her background check.

"Yes, that is... correct, Kirisaki-san," I replied.

"Hana is fine. So... 150 million yearly, tax-free, the best penthouse in Manhattan, cars, a private jet—I'll give you perks no one else can offer. Boy, work for me."

This is not job interview. I smiled, trying to keep my cool despite her casual treatment of me and forget why am I here in the first place.

"It's a very interesting offer, but... I refuse."

Suddenly, I heard the unmistakable sound of guns cocking. A chill ran down my spine when multiple firearms were now aimed at me.

"Put the gun down boys. He's just a kid, beside..." Hana said with a grin, "I like this kid even more. Hahahahaha!"

Honestly, I've bad feeling about this woman—

[Would you like to see your potential partner rating?]