5.

...His POV...

"…It was difficult, but I finally cracked it — the deal with the world's biggest arms exporter, Mockheed Lartin Corporation. They're ready to sell us their best 20,000 guns at a 15% discount," my bastard little brother finished, clearly proud of himself.

We were seated in a private meeting room with the most dangerous underworld figures in Asia — kings of illegal trades from different countries. Mining, smuggling, drug dealing, human trafficking, illegal gambling clubs — there wasn't a single black-market business untouched by them.

And when you operate in this kind of world, you're never short of enemies.

To deal with enemies, you need power — not only to protect yourself, but to secure your empire and keep the rats away.

Over the past decade, advancements in military weaponry had become a serious headache for us. If governments upgraded, so did our enemies. To survive, we needed something more advanced than what was already flooding the market.

And that's why we were here.

From our side, this little bastard had been chosen by my father to lead the negotiation.

"What about transportation?" I asked, looking straight at the overly confident jerk.

"Of course, the old sea route — the Pacific route," he replied without hesitation.

"Hasn't military presence increased in the Pacific after the recent U.S.–Russia naval encounter?" I asked calmly.

The color drained from his face.

Of course he hadn't done his homework.

He began shuffling through the papers he had brought, as if the documents would magically fix the tension between two superpowers.

I felt a sharp warning stare on my back. My father.

I ignored it.

"And what will this deal cost?" Mr. Richard asked.

"Twenty million U.S. dollars, including the discount," my brother answered.

I almost laughed.

"Twenty million dollars?" I repeated. "That's one thousand per gun. Do you really think we're going to invest twenty million in outdated iron?"

All eyes shifted to me.

Exactly what I wanted.

I stood up, walked to the presentation board, and took control.

"Mockheed Lartin Corporation is the world's leading arms exporter," I began. "But their specialty is heavy weaponry — missiles, rocket launchers, landmines, grenades, TNT. Not firearms. Yes, they manufacture smart guns, but they're not the best in that category."

"What are you implying?" my brother asked, barely hiding his anger.

I wished the lighting were brighter. I would've loved to see his pride crack more clearly.

"I mean this."

I connected my laptop to the projector and began switching slides.

"Most Asian, American, and European forces already use firearms manufactured by Mockheed. That's exactly what we don't want."

Silence filled the room.

"We need something they don't have."

"Something new," Mr. Yakuza said slowly.

I nodded and switched to the next slide.

"BEA Systems — the world's fourth-largest arms exporter and number one in Europe — recently developed a new generation firearm."

I removed a sleek weapon hidden beneath my suit jacket and placed it in the center of the table.

The room froze.

Under tight security, I had walked in armed.

A smirk tugged at my lips. These men dealt with death every day — yet they still flinched at its presence.

When the tension settled, I continued.

"This is their latest model. A smart fingerprint scanning system. Seventy-two rounds per load. Lightweight frame. Advanced sensor system capable of bypassing standard metal detectors."

I paused.

"Which you've just witnessed."

The room fell silent

"BAE Systems? Isn't that a UK-based company? Why would they trade with us?" my father asked, his voice steady but sharp.

"They're desperate to break the U.S. monopoly in the global arms market," I replied calmly. "That desperation works in our favor. They're willing to sell at a much lower price just to expand their influence."

I paused before continuing.

"As for transportation, we avoid the Pacific entirely. We use the Mediterranean route, pass through the Red Sea, and dock at Busan Port. If complications arise, we reroute through the South China Sea."

Silence settled over the room as the men processed the plan.

"I'll handle the maritime side," Mr. Yakuza said firmly.

I gave him a slight nod.

"Then it's a win-win situation," I concluded. "Advanced weapons. Lower price. Minimal military interference."

I glanced around the table.

"What do you all say?"

I returned to my seat as the lights came back on, illuminating every face in the room. The shift in atmosphere was obvious. Most of them were leaning in my direction now. Only a few of my father's loyal supporters remained hesitant, still clinging to my younger brother's failed proposal.

But logically, there was no reason to reject mine.

"I agree."

"Same here."

"Yes."

Voices began rising from different corners of the table, one after another.

And just like that, it was done.

Of course it was. When I decide to accomplish something, failure isn't an option.

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