It was, by all accounts, a wonderful evening. Joseph rarely had the chance to unwind like this. For once, he set aside the worries of business and technology, ignoring the ceaseless pulse of progress that normally followed him like a shadow. Tonight, he immersed himself in fine wine and exquisite food, savoring each moment as if it were suspended outside of time.
Kate Mara, his stunning and sharp-witted dinner companion, brought her own flair to the table. As a renowned figure within the Federal Court, she was no stranger to the spotlight—and tonight, she exuded confidence and charm in equal measure. If Joseph wanted, their evening could easily have transitioned into a more intimate "mentorship session," though that thought, as amusing as it was, was quickly shelved.
Unfortunately, peace is a fleeting luxury in a city like Twisted City.
Just as dessert was being served and their glasses were half-full, the restaurant manager appeared. He was an elderly man with neatly combed gray hair and a dignified aura, the type that could make even a mafia enforcer seem polite.
"Mr. Joseph, if I may interrupt..." he began, his voice smooth and refined. With a small, deliberate motion, he placed a heavy invitation envelope on the table in front of them. "The owner of our establishment cordially invites you to attend an exclusive Entrepreneurial Exchange Conference this evening. We hope you will find the experience… enlightening."
Then, as if it were merely an afterthought, the manager turned toward Kate and added with a gracious smile, "And if Ms. Mara would like anything else, we'll have the kitchen prepare it immediately. Of course, tonight's expenses are fully covered by our host."
Kate raised an eyebrow at the offer, momentarily surprised, then declined with a polite shake of her head. "No, thank you."
"Then please enjoy the rest of your evening. I won't disturb you further," the manager said, bowing respectfully as he backed away.
Kate glanced at the envelope, then at Joseph. "That's odd," she murmured. "I haven't heard anything about an entrepreneur conference being held tonight. Could it be some sort of private event? But then… why invite you?"
It was a valid question. "Oasis," the virtual reality game under Joseph's company Second World Technologies, hadn't even officially launched yet. While industry insiders were starting to whisper about it, he wasn't exactly a household name. Not yet.
Joseph opened the envelope and scanned the invitation. His lips curled into a smirk.
"'The Contract-Twister Entrepreneurial Exchange Meeting,'" he read aloud, unable to hide the amused disbelief in his voice. "Well… I guess I wasn't expecting to bump into a famous villain tonight."
At the bottom of the elegant letter was a bold signature: Wilson Faith. The underworld kingpin known to most of the city as Grant King.
Grant King wasn't just infamous—he was practically a myth. Rumors claimed that nearly 40% of the city's underground activity, from smuggling to narcotics to arms dealing, was directly or indirectly tied to him. If you wanted to operate in Twisted City's criminal scene, you needed his blessing.
That same man had now signed an invitation—formally, on behalf of the Entrepreneurial Association of Twisted Contracts—and had requested Joseph's presence.
"Technically… he is an entrepreneur," Joseph mused dryly.
Kate leaned in slightly. "You know about him?"
Joseph nodded. "He's kept his hands clean for the last few years. To the public, he's a philanthropist and a business mogul. In truth? He's still one of the biggest crime lords in the country."
Kate crossed her arms and added, "Word is, he's planning to run for mayor."
Joseph raised his brows. "Is that so?"
Now he was genuinely intrigued. It wasn't every day that someone clawed their way from the city's gutters to its most prestigious political stage. Say what you will about Grant King, but he had vision. He knew how to play the long game. And according to Joseph's memory—he actually succeeded.
Still, this little stunt—dropping an invitation in the middle of dinner—was pushing it.
Joseph glanced at the clock. It was past seven. The so-called "exchange meeting" was obviously impromptu. No forewarning. No courtesy. Not even a preparation window.
"The guest clearly doesn't come with good intentions," he muttered.
He wiped his mouth, stood slowly, and gave Kate a measured look. "I just hope this meeting is worthy of your dress."
Kate's lips curved into a sly smile as she took his arm. "This outfit wasn't meant for some secret gathering. But if the meeting bores me, I'll blame you."
With unhurried steps, they followed the directions to the meeting venue, which turned out to be just a few blocks away. Clearly arranged to make Joseph's attendance more convenient.
When they finally arrived—around ten o'clock—they were greeted by a sleek marble lobby bearing the name Terras Club in gilded letters. A waiter escorted them into a private suite filled with velvet couches, polished wooden floors, and—surprisingly—no signs of festivity.
Inside, the room had four guests already present.
"Three hours," a deep voice boomed.
Grant King himself sat on a leather couch like a carved mountain of flesh. Broad-shouldered, powerfully built, and dressed in a tailored black suit, he stared directly at Joseph with a gaze sharp enough to cut steel.
"For a ten-minute walk, Mr. Joseph, you certainly took your time."
"Is that a problem?" Joseph asked mildly.
He scanned the room. Not only was Grant King present, but so were three other faces—each just as dangerous in their own right.
On the left, a lean man with aristocratic features nodded politely.
"Norman Osborn, Osborn Group. I must say, I didn't expect you to be so young."
Across from him, a regal man in his thirties with piercing eyes introduced himself with quiet authority: "Victor von Doom. Doom Corporation."
And on the right side of the room, a frail old woman sat calmly with a cane resting in her lap.
"You may call me Mrs. Gao," she said, her voice deceptively soft.
Joseph sat down with Kate and exhaled slowly. Green Goblin, Doctor Doom, Mrs. Gao… and Grant King. Four villainous titans in one room.
No music. No food. No drinks. No pretense of socializing.
Not even a damn fruit plate.
Joseph gave Kate an apologetic glance and muttered, "What kind of party is this? No appetizers?"
Kate didn't reply—her expression was unreadable.
Joseph leaned back and swept his eyes across the room. "Let's not waste time with empty courtesies. Say what you need to say."
Grant King exchanged a glance with the others before speaking again.
"We are aware," he began, "that you are the president of Second World Technologies. And we've been keeping close track of your 'Oasis' project. The beta testing has caused a global ripple. It's not hard to see that once it officially launches, it will explode across the world."
Joseph said nothing. The facts didn't need confirmation.
"We're not here to negotiate in circles," Grant continued. "We want in."
Joseph raised an eyebrow. "We?"
"Yes," Norman Osborn added. "All of us have the resources, distribution channels, and capital to assist in making Oasis the most widely adopted VR platform on Earth."
Victor von Doom nodded slowly. "A partnership… if structured well, would benefit all parties."
Joseph leaned forward, lacing his fingers together.
"The Second World is a game company," he said. "As far as I know, none of your ventures are game-related. Drug trafficking, weapons development, political manipulation, organized crime... sure. But not entertainment."
Grant King smiled faintly. "Not yet. Doesn't mean we can't adapt."
"What do you want exactly?" Joseph asked, though he already knew the answer.
"The agency rights," Grant replied, his tone calm but firm. "Regional distribution. Licensing. Co-branding opportunities."
As those words hung in the air, Kate's fingers lightly tapped against the armrest, and she gave Joseph a sideways glance.
Joseph tilted his head. "You want to sell Oasis in your territories? Let criminals peddle one of the most revolutionary VR technologies of our time?"
"We prefer to call it... expansion," Norman said smoothly.
Victor von Doom added, "And in truth, Joseph, your company cannot reach the levels we can—not without political resistance. We can remove obstacles you haven't even imagined yet."
Joseph chuckled softly and stood up. "So this is the twisted version of a business pitch?"
He walked to the window, looking out at the glittering skyline of Twisted City. Then he turned, expression unreadable.
"I'm flattered by the offer," he said, voice cool, "but this game wasn't made to empower criminals. Oasis is for changing the world, not controlling it."
The room went silent.
Grant King didn't move. "Think about it carefully. Power doesn't come without friends."
Joseph turned to leave, Kate following close behind.
"I've made my choice," he said, glancing back. "And next time, send an actual invitation, not a summons."
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