"Young Master, please."
Two burly Russian bodyguards, dressed in black suits and ard with AK-47 assault rifles, stood guard beside Mavi. In the event of an ergency, these bodyguards would unhesitatingly shield him with their own bodies, even at the cost of their own lives.
After all, Mavi was paying them well—it wasn't for nothing. Bodyguards of their caliber belonged to private military forces affiliated with arms manufacturers. Street thugs wouldn't dare provoke them, and even Russian mafia organizations would think twice before making a move.
After all, most arms manufacturers, whether private or state-owned, had powerful backing. Anyone daring to challenge those in the arms trade had to be either incredibly bold or have a death wish.
As the bodyguards opened the car door for him, Mavi stepped into his newly purchased Rolls-Royce. The black luxury vehicle exuded grandeur, giving off an air of prestige with just a single glance.
Inside, the chauffeur, who had been waiting for so ti, was dressed in a formal suit and wore white gloves. He respectfully turned his head and nodded toward Mavi. "Young Master."
"Hmm."
Mavi settled into the back seat of the car, leaning comfortably against the Rolls-Royce's premium leather upholstery. The sensation of the soft cushioning against his back was exceptionally pleasant.
With the door securely shut by the bodyguards outside, the chauffeur started the engine and smoothly drove toward the mansion.
On the way, Mavi gazed out the window at the passing scenery. The vast Russian birch forests displayed a mix of golden hues tinged with red. Through the reflection in the glass, he saw a face both unfamiliar and familiar at the sa ti—deep-set eyes, sharp features, and an undeniably handso appearance.
With a tall, athletic fra of 1.85 ters (6'1") and fair skin, combined with his status and wealth, Mavi looked more dazzling than a celebrity.
Feeling sowhat unfamiliar with his own reflection, Mavi ruffled his hair as if trying to adjust. In his previous life, he had been an ordinary person. He never imagined that after being reborn in this new world, he would beco the heir to a powerful arms manufacturing empire.
From his past life's knowledge, Mavi knew that the arms business was becoming increasingly difficult each year. Ever since the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, the defense industry had been on a downward trend.
Even though his family was currently wealthy beyond asure, in just a few years, the arms factory left to him by his "cheap" parents might face bankruptcy. His fortune, if spent recklessly, would eventually dry up.
"Ivan, how much money do I currently have in my bank account?" Mavi asked his butler calmly.
"Young Master, your deposits at Citibank currently amount to approximately 385 million U.S. dollars," Butler Ivan replied after a brief mont of thought.
Upon hearing this, Mavi clenched his fists slightly, struggling to contain his excitent. Such a massive fortune was thrilling just to think about. And in the year 2000, 385 million dollars could go a very long way!
In his previous life, Mavi didn't have many talents, but he had an excellent mory. Anything he paid close attention to, he could recall in great detail.
Based on both his past and present knowledge, he knew that relations between the U.S. and Russia in this world were relatively stable, fostering peaceful developnt. His identity wouldn't be a barrier to investing in Arica.
And in the year 2000, the most profitable industry was undoubtedly the internet!
Take Amazon, one of the three internet giants—it was still in its early days and didn't sell nearly as many products online as it would in the future. In 1999, its total net profit was only around 10 million dollars.
Google, another one of the internet's rising stars, had been founded less than two years ago and was still just an obscure startup.
As for Facebook, which wouldn't even be founded until 2004, there was no need to rush—it would take another five or six years before it truly exploded onto the scene.
That ant Mavi had plenty of ti. He could fully imrse himself in the internet industry and make a fortune.
As for the arms factory, he had no intention of selling it or mortgaging it to a bank. Influenced by the previous owner of his body, Mavi had a deep, ingrained passion for the arms industry. If given the opportunity, he would even consider expanding his holdings.
Perhaps he could buy a few tanks and fire off a round just for fun. Or acquire a couple of attack helicopters and launch missiles at glaciers when he got bored.
These wild ideas constantly lingered in his mind. Even though the original owner of this body was gone, those impulses remained strong.
"Young Master, we've arrived at the villa," Butler Ivan announced respectfully.
Looking out the window, Mavi saw that the Rolls-Royce had stopped in front of a massive wrought-iron gate. Through its intricate patterns, he could glimpse a ticulously manicured green garden beyond.
A group of uniford security personnel quickly hurried over to open the gate. As the Rolls-Royce drove slowly through the garden, it eventually ca to a stop in front of a grand, all-white European-style villa.
The mansion's design was a classic example of Northern European architecture—towering white stone columns, intricately carved ebony doors and windows, and an enormous fountain in the front courtyard. Everything about the estate radiated wealth and sophistication.
Having lived two lives, Mavi struggled to suppress his inner excitent. The sound of water cascading from the fountain filled his ears as he calmly stepped out of the car, maintaining an air of composure so no one would notice anything unusual.
"Young Master, the chefs and servants are waiting for you in the hall. What would you like for dinner?" Butler Ivan asked respectfully as he accompanied Mavi into the villa's grand living room.
The opulent hall was brightly lit. Two French chefs, wearing tall hats and pristine white uniforms, stood in a neat row alongside the maids, waiting for Mavi's instructions.
Both the chefs and maids kept their heads slightly bowed, their gazes directed downward to avoid making direct eye contact with Mavi, as a sign of deference and respect.
Taking the nu from his butler, Mavi scanned the options and casually selected a few dishes. "Saint Jacques scallops, French lamb chops, pan-seared foie gras, and filet mignon."
As he spoke, the French chefs nodded slightly in acknowledgnt. Even if they didn't understand Russian, they made sure to appear as though they did.
"Young Master, would you like so dessert and wine?" Ivan gently reminded him.
"Oh, right! I'll also have so red wine and dessert. Cheese soufflé, crè brûlée, and a bottle of 1992 Romanée-Conti," Mavi added, glancing at the nu.
The life of an ultra-rich heir still felt like a dream to him. There were so many small details he had to be mindful of.
Fortunately, he was the master of the house. Even if he made a few mistakes, no one would dare criticize him. And besides, no one else knew about his reincarnation—such an extraordinary phenonon was beyond anyone's imagination.
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