The main hall on the 108th floor of the Aegis One skyscraper looked more like a golden temple than a conference room. Glass ceilings, smart panels on every wall, a long curved carbon fiber table surrounding a central presentation platform. This was the heart of the meeting.
Gathered there were the richest men in the world. Some wore tailor-made suits that cost as much as a house; others were more relaxed, dressed in designer hoodies and limited-edition smartwatches. They all had one thing in common: ambition.
"If what NeuTech promises is real…" said a Middle Eastern oil magnate with a serious and arrogant tone, "I don't care if I have to pay ten times more. I want that technology in my desert facilities."
"This isn't about money," interrupted a Japanese pharmaceutical executive. "It's about priority access. The first to invest will have control over the development agenda. That's what matters."
"I just want 3%, no more, no less," added a white-haired woman, owner of one of the largest nuclear energy companies in Europe. "And I've already offered a billion in advance."
Laughter, murmurs, tension. Everyone was there for the same reason: today, NeuTech Industries would be selling 5% of its private shares. A small number… but enough to secure a seat at the table of the future.
A bald American executive wearing augmented reality glasses leaned toward his assistant.
"Who's the real CEO? No photos, no public appearances. Who the hell is behind all of this?"
"You'll know in a moment, sir. He's about to enter," replied the robotic assistant, checking the notification that had just arrived.
At that moment, all the lights in the room dimmed. A refined, neutral artificial voice sounded over the speakers.
"Attention. The founder and CEO of NeuTech Industries is about to enter. Please remain seated."
A thick silence fell over the room. Even the most arrogant straightened up.
The central black titanium door opened with a soft hydraulic sound. The security convoy stopped in front of the platform. First, two female figures stepped out: Naomi Yurei and Sasha Krieger. Their faces were expressionless, their movements calculated, instantly conveying exactly what they were.
Then, between them, a much smaller figure stepped forward.
A boy.
Slightly messy hair, a technological mask still covering the lower half of his face. Dark jacket, thin gloves, penetrating gaze. He walked as if he had spent years entering rooms like this.
The murmurs began instantly.
"Is this a joke?"
"Who brought their kid?"
"This can't be…"
Ethan Graves's voice came through the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen… Jimmy Kwon. Founder, CEO, and owner of 98% of NeuTech Industries."
Disbelief hit instantly. Some stood up, others looked at their tablets to confirm the information. And there it was: the name, the face, the patent records, the scientific presentations, the government contracts. All under one name.
Jimmy Neutron. Fourteen years old.
The boy slowly removed his mask, revealing a discreet smile.
"Good afternoon, everyone," he said calmly, almost as if greeting his school class. "Welcome to the first meeting of potential NeuTech partners. I'm here because I've decided it's time to share a part... a very small part of my empire."
No one spoke.
No one laughed. They just stared, horrified, at the boy conducting the meeting without the slightest tremble in his voice.
"I know some of you were expecting a gray-haired man with a deep accent and a tragic backstory of overcoming adversity. Sorry to disappoint," Jimmy added calmly as he picked up a small iron ball from the table. "But if you're here… it's because you know I'm not a joke. Because you've seen the results. And because you want what I have."
After letting the room settle, Jimmy said, "Today, you'll have the chance to invest in the future. But do it knowing I'm not selling to get rich. I already am. I'm selling to accelerate my vision of the world. One where technology doesn't belong to governments... but to the creators."
Jimmy raised his hand, and the central platform projected a hologram: a self-sustaining city with clean energy, automated hospitals, AI-based preventive security, and a population with a quality of life ten times better than the current average.
"This!" Jimmy said, pointing at the image, "This is one of the small things we can build right now. But before that, I'll show you something none of you can refuse to be part of."
Jimmy snapped his fingers. The image of the futuristic city vanished, replaced by something entirely different: a human figure floating in a dark void, surrounded by constantly shifting lines of code.
"Most of you think you know what virtual reality is," Jimmy said softly. "But what you're about to see... isn't virtual reality. It's conscious migration to the digital world."
The executives leaned forward. Some pupils dilated. Others frowned, skeptical. Jimmy remained unfazed.
"Introducing: TRON: Protocol Zero. A neural integration interface capable of transferring a functional, self-aware copy of the human mind to a secure digital environment. It's not just a simulation... It's a living extension of the self."
Naomi Yurei activated a hidden panel on the platform. A column of light emerged from the floor, projecting a figure identical to one of the attendees: the Japanese pharmaceutical magnate. The digital copy waved, even mimicking his blinking.
"This is AI, right?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Not exactly," Jimmy replied. "It's an active synaptic echo-memory. It has your memories, your reasoning, your emotions... even your biases. It's not a copy… It's another version of you. One that lives inside the Grid."
"And what can this 'version' of me do?" asked an African telecom executive, clearly intrigued.
"Run companies, attend meetings, research medical solutions, design smart cities, manage infrastructure. No rest, no biological limits. And no fear of death. Of course, this tech would be limited for investors. The real business is that you, as living matter, can enter the network and do whatever you want. You can change your age, remove diseases, and live many more years." Jimmy smiled. "A human who thinks a thousand times faster than you. An ideal partner."
Silence returned. But this time, it was reverent.
Then Sasha Krieger projected a real-time scene. It showed various human "echoes" inside the Grid. Some were working on complex algorithms. Others held conversations with sentient AIs. An entire group was overseeing the digital construction of an automated orbital station with precision no human engineer could match.
Jimmy stepped further onto the platform.
"This system has already been tested with volunteers. Three are operating at the international level—one even runs a digital investment firm with a 37% daily return. You could be next."
The bald executive with AR glasses murmured under his breath, "This isn't an investment... It's immortality."
Jimmy nodded with a wide smile and, raising his hand, said, "Exactly. But only for those who get there first."
Then, without warning, the room's walls began to display numbers: statistics, growth projections, social integration percentages—and a countdown: 15 minutes.
"The protocol will open in exactly fifteen minutes for the first three investors. After that… it will close for two years." Jimmy's voice was calm, yet firm.
A perfectly contained chaos erupted.
Attendees lunged for their tablets, activated security systems, called legal representatives. Some barked orders in different languages. Others simply stared at the countdown, frowning—aware they were witnessing the birth of a new era… and that only a few would be part of it from the very beginning.
Jimmy calmly sat in a chair that emerged from the platform. And with a faint smile, he whispered, "Welcome to the game."