....
Buzz–!
Mobile Display: [Unknown - New York]
Regal didn't hesitate. He picked it up.
"Regal speaking."
A beat.
Then the voice ca through, gravelly but unmistakably alive with rhythm.
"You know, back in my day, people used to call before they tried to buy the whole damn building."
Regal's brows rose. "Stan?"
"Who else sounds this charming over the phone?" A chuckle.
Regal let out a quiet laugh, stepping away from the desk. "I wasn't sure you would call."
That wasn't entirely true. Regal had a feeling - half certainty, really - that sothing like this was coming.
After all, he had been circling MDC for weeks now, especially ever since his talk with Gwen's father. It wasn't subtle. And at this level of the ga, soone always notices.
But the timing... that was sothing else.
Regal already had nearly 8% of MDC's shares locked in. Coincidence or not, the deal to close the next batch was set for tomorrow.
And now - today - Stan calls.
Maybe it wasn't him that was caught and soone else.
"Well, I figured I should talk to the guy who has been poking around my offices like a raccoon with a blueprint." Stan paused. "You are ambitious, I will give you that."
"Ambition's the only way to survive in this business."
"Nah." Stan said. "Charm. Charm's the real superpower. But ambition's a close second."
Regal paced slowly to the window, the city below stretched out like a grid of possibilities.
"Okay... first and foremost, I am sorry, I guess. I know what you've built, Stan. I'm not here to step on it."
Stan's voice shifted, the bravado easing into sothing quieter, more weathered, more real. "This company, MDC, it's not just ink and characters, you know? It's my whole damn life. I was barely shaving when I started here. I wrote stories during the war, clawed through near-bankruptcy more tis than I care to admit. These characters... they're family."
"I get that." Regal said, and he ant it. "And I am not here to take that from you. What I want is to carry it forward. Help shape what cos next. Build sothing lasting. Bigger than what anyone's expecting."
A pause. Long. Regal could hear the faint rustle of papers on the other end, the click of a pen cap - thoughts being weighed, history being asured.
Then Stan spoke again, slower this ti.
"Alright. You have earned a real conversation. Co to my place. We will have lunch. No promises. You bring your best pitch... and I will bring my appetite."
"That is all I ask."
Stan didn't say goodbye. Just a soft, thoughtful exhale, and the quiet click of the call ending.
Regal stood by the window, phone still in hand, the weight of the mont settling in his chest.
Then, to no one in particular, he murmured:
"One foot in the door."
....
As the call ended with a quiet click, Regal lowered the phone and stared at it for half a second, then slid it into his coat pocket.
Silence gripped the room.
Nanami, who had been glued to the monitor screen watching Tube comnts fly in, suddenly turned around, eyes sharp. He sensed sothing had shifted - but, as always, the conversation was a blur to him.
While Rock, just stood by the wall like a silent sculpture, gave the slightest tilt of his head but said nothing.
It was Gwendolyn who finally broke the silence. She dropped into the leather chair, exhaling so sharply it was nearly a gasp.
"Thank God." She muttered, dragging a hand through her hair and letting it fall behind her shoulders. "I wasn't sure he would call."
Regal turned to her, his eyes unreadable for a mont. "Neither was I."
"You were bluffing this whole ti?"
He gave a faint smirk. "More like... hedging."
Nanami blinked, then muttered sothing in Japanese under his breath, sharp, clipped, confused.
Rock didn't miss a beat. "He said, 'Can soone explain why you all look like you just walked out of a war zone?'"
The words weren't a perfect translation. Rock had clearly flavored them with his own spin.
Gwendolyn managed a tired smile. "Let's just say if things go our way... the next ti you're in a booth, it won't just be for Solo Leveling."
Nanami furrowed his brow, still not following.
He said sothing else, a touch impatient. Rock rolled his eyes and translated again.
"He asked if this ans there is another series in the works."
Regal was already walking past them, voice cool. "No. Sothing bigger."
That caught Nanami off guard. He blinked once, then twice - his posture shifting with intrigue.
Rock finally pushed off the wall, boots thudding quietly on the studio floor. "Should I prepare for security? Just in case this thing's a trap?."
Gwendolyn and Regal both paused... But neither of them replied.
Regal simply moved toward the far wall and stared at the calendar, his hand hovering over a date.
"Tomorrow..." He said quietly.
....
Comics.
Once a cornerstone of Arican literature, they shaped pop culture in ways few other diums couldn't even put a proper fight.
From the late 1930s to the mid-1950s, fondly rembered as the Golden Age of Comics, superheroes didn't just exist on the page. They beca cultural icons, leaping into the hearts and imaginations of millions.
But industries rise and fall.
The comic book market suffered a brutal decline in the mid-'90s, a collapse that nearly wiped it out. By the ti 2010 rolled around, the industry was still recovering from what many had co to call 'The Dark Age of Comics'. Once celebrated, comics had been vilified, blad for corrupting young minds, and socially condemned.
Now in 2010 - comics were trying to make their coback dium but still they are an afterthought in mainstream entertainnt.
Publishing them in this climate?
A sinking ship...
Yet, despite all of this, Regal wasn't just thinking about producing comics.
He was planning to buy two of the most dood comic book publishers.
....
Samantha looked over at Regal from the back seat, her eyes sharp but steady.
"Are you sure about this?"
Regal didn't look at her.
"...Honestly? I am a little nervous too."
She raised an eyebrow. "You? Nervous?"
"Yeah." He said, almost under his breath. "I am eting soone I have admired for a long ti."
Samantha smirked. "You really show your age in the weirdest ways, Regal."
....
The car ca to a slow stop in front of the building.
Regal pushed the door open, stepping out onto the pavent with Samantha following closely behind.
In the driver's seat, Darren remained, hands resting on the wheel. Regal glanced at him and knocked lightly on the roof of the car.
"Park the car and join soon, okay?" He held out a fist.
Darren smirked, returning the gesture with a solid bump. "Yeah. Good luck."
With that, the car rolled forward toward the parking lot, leaving Regal and Samantha standing before an old, worn-out building.
The structure looked as if it hadn't seen proper maintenance in years. The paint on the walls was chipped, the windows bore a layer of dust, and the doorfra had visible cracks. At the top of the entrance, a weathered board hung slightly askew, the faded letters barely holding onto their forr glory.
[MARVELD COMICS]
The once-mighty publishing house, the ho of legends.
Regal exhaled, adjusting his cuffs. "Off we go."
Samantha said nothing, simply following as they stepped inside.
The mont they crossed the threshold, Regal's sharp gaze swept across the room, taking in every detail - the neglected furniture, the outdated décor, the stacks of unsold comic books piled in corners.
The atmosphere felt stagnant, the air carrying an odd mix of nostalgia and exhaustion.
As he observed, an employee hesitantly approached.
"Excuse , sir—"
Before the man could finish, a loud, furious voice erupted from a nearby office.
"ARE YOU JOKING WITH ?!"
The entire floor froze. Conversations halted, employees stiffened, fingers stopped mid-typing on keyboards. The tension was palpable, lingering in the silence that followed.
Regal's expression remained unreadable, but he subtly shifted his posture, listening.
"I am asking you - does this look like a joke to you?!"
A quieter voice responded, but it wasn't loud enough to reach them.
Even without hearing it, Regal could fill in the gaps.
Then, the first voice roared again.
"With WHOSE PERMISSION did you put MY company shares up for SALE?!"
The sudden spike in volu made several employees flinch.
Then, another voice - sharper, younger, and laced with frustration - cut through the air.
"Can't you see, FATHER? We're bleeding money by the second! If we don't act now, the little value these TRASH books have left will vanish completely! Why are you so DAMN adamant about keeping worthless shares?!"
Regal's brow lifted slightly.
Ah. A family dispute.
The argunt escalated for a few more monts before the sound of a door slamming open rattled the floor.
A man in his forties stord out, his face contorted with irritation. He made it only a few steps before noticing Regal in his path.
He stopped.
His eyes narrowed. "And you are?"
Regal t his gaze without flinching.
"Regal Seraphsail. I was inford to co here before finalizing the deal."
At the ntion of his na, the man's scowl imdiately faded, replaced by a more composed, if not slightly greedy, expression.
"Oh..." He extended his hand.
Regal glanced at it for a mont before finally shaking it, his grip firm. "Seems like we picked the wrong timing."
The man forced a chuckle. "My apologies that you had to see that."
But before the conversation could continue, the door that had been slamd shut slowly creaked open again.
From inside, an elderly man stepped forward.
White hair, neatly combed back. A mustache, well-kept but showing signs of age. A simple, unassuming presence, dressed in a way that made him seem like any ordinary old man from the neighborhood. He carried a wooden cane, not out of necessity, but as if it had long since beco a part of him.
And yet—
There was an undeniable presence about him.
Not overbearing. Not imposing.
But sothing far more difficult to define.
His gaze didn't land on Regal imdiately.
First, he stared at the empty space in front of him, as if seeing sothing no one else could.
Then, his eyes swept the room.
The employees.
The woman beside Regal.
Samantha.
And finally—
Regal.
Their eyes t.
And for the first ti since stepping into this building - Regal felt like he had just walked into a story far bigger than himself.
....
Across the table, the old man folded his arms, his sharp eyes fixed on Regal. His voice carried the weight of decades in the industry.
"Kid, before we go any further, let's get one thing straight - we are not selling."
Stan had made that much clear from the start.
.
....
[To be continued...]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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