Luxurious and serene, the VIP lounge backstage was a world away from the main event.
The feverish afterglow of the press conference still lingered in the air, but in here, it had already condensed to an icy chill.
Agent Coulson wore his signature mild smile, but the eyes looking through his glasses were as sharp as scalpels, as if they meant to dissect the fourteen-year-old boy before him, inside and out.
Paul casually pulled out a sofa chair and sat down. His posture was relaxed, and he even poured himself a glass of juice, showing none of the unease one would expect when facing a representative from a powerful government agency.
"Agent Coulson, I'm a busy man." Paul swirled the ice in his glass, the clinking sound breaking the silence. "You know, with the new product launch, orders are flooding in like snowflakes. Time is money."
He sounded more like a penny-pinching merchant than a genius inventor.
Coulson didn't beat around the bush. He slid an encrypted tablet to the center of the table.
"We're interested in several of your technologies."
His finger swiped across the screen, first displaying the molecular structure of graphene.
"Graphene. We need it. All of it." Coulson's tone was flat, but the words were utterly domineering. "Stark Industries' military contracts can all be transferred to you. The price... you name it."
Using Tony Stark's business to buy his son's inventions.
What a clever scheme.
Paul smiled. He set down his juice, leaned forward slightly, and folded his hands on the table, adopting a negotiating posture.
"Agent Coulson, is that an order?"
"No, it's a request," Coulson's smile didn't waver. "A request concerning world security."
"Then my request is that I refuse." Paul's reply was crisp and decisive, without a hint of hesitation.
Coulson's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly. He had anticipated Paul would haggle, but he hadn't expected an outright refusal.
"Why?"
"It's simple." Paul held up three fingers. "First, my father just announced the shutdown of the weapons division. If I immediately take over his contracts, how do you think the world will see the Starks? As hypocritical liars?"
"Second, I hate weapons. That stuff only brings death, and my ambition is to save lives."
"Third, and most importantly." Paul's gaze deepened. "The future of graphene goes far beyond making a few bulletproof plates. Its value is something S.H.I.E.L.D.... can't even begin to imagine yet."
He paused, observing Coulson's somewhat grave expression, then changed his tune.
"However, for the sake of our *potential* future cooperation, I can sell you a portion."
"How much?"
"Seventy percent." Paul gestured with his fingers. "Seventy percent of my annual production can be supplied to you on a priority basis. The remaining thirty percent, I need to keep for my own use."
"We need all of it," Coulson insisted.
"Then our negotiation is over." Paul made a move to stand up.
"Wait!" Coulson stopped him. "Why thirty percent? Does that number have some special significance?"
"Of course, it does." Paul sat back down, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "It's for your own good. Agent, putting all your eggs in one basket is a major strategic taboo. What if my lab gets hit by a meteorite? Wouldn't your national security be instantly crippled? I'm leaving you a thirty-percent gap to urge you to find backup solutions quickly, so you don't become overly reliant on me."
"..."
Coulson was silent.
He was speechless.
This twisted logic... actually made a damn bit of sense.
"Fine, seventy percent." Coulson took a deep breath, conceding the point. "The price..."
"Market price," Paul said flatly. "You have priority supply rights, but not discount rights. That's my bottom line."
Coulson's fingertips tapped rapidly on the tablet for a few moments, seemingly seeking authorization. A few seconds later, he nodded.
"Deal."
Round one, a complete victory for Paul. He had not only secured pricing power but also held tight to thirty percent of his production capacity, the cornerstone of his future plans.
Coulson swiped the screen, and the image changed to a design schematic of a suit—the very one Yinsen had worn in the cave.
"This combat suit, which we've designated 'Guardian Angel'—we recovered the core chip from one in Afghanistan." Coulson's tone grew serious. "According to the data, it can turn a civilian with no combat experience into a master martial artist and an expert marksman in a short period. We need it. Fifty units to start."
"That one won't be cheap." Paul's eyes narrowed.
This was what he had really wanted to sell today.
Baymax was the bait, graphene was the hook, and this combat suit, with its hidden secrets, was the bullet he was truly aiming at the enemy's heart.
"We have the budget," Coulson replied confidently.
"Seeing as you're so sincere, Agent Coulson..." Paul pretended to ponder, like a sly little fox. "I can give you a discount."
"How much?"
"Fifty percent off."
Coulson was stunned. He even wondered if he'd misheard. For black tech of this caliber, S.H.I.E.L.D. would have to grit its teeth and buy it even at double the price, let alone half off.
What was this kid playing at?
"Are you sure?"
"Of course." Paul smiled like an innocent child. "But I have one condition. You can pay for the fifty suits in installments, but you must purchase fifty matching 'Agent Badges' in a single payment."
As soon as he finished speaking, a design for an exquisite metal badge, engraved with the S.H.I.E.L.D. eagle emblem, popped up on the tablet.
"This is an identification and communication module. It uses quantum encryption, making it unhackable and untraceable. Most importantly, it links perfectly with the combat suit to activate its full potential," Paul explained. "It's my exclusive bonus gift, a show of my sincerity."
Coulson looked at the badge, then back at Paul's sincere face, and his internal alarm bells quieted down. Perhaps the kid just wanted to use this to forge a deeper, binding relationship with S.H.I.E.L.D. The massive fifty-percent discount was enough to make anyone overlook a small 'bonus' badge.
"Alright, we accept." Coulson barely hesitated. On this deal, S.H.I.E.L.D. was making a killing.
He didn't know that hidden within that small badge, besides the functions Paul mentioned, was a backdoor program with the highest level of administrative access. A backdoor that belonged only to Paul.
The final negotiation was about Baymax.
"We need one thousand Professional Edition Baymax units for the health and emergency medical care of our field agents. Additionally, we need to procure ten thousand Home Edition units as an internal benefit for S.H.I.E.L.D. employees." Coulson reeled off the massive numbers in one breath.
"No problem." Paul agreed readily this time. "The price is the one from the press conference, not a cent less. However, seeing as you're a major client, I can give you a ten-percent discount on the subscription fee."
Coulson's mouth twitched.
After all that, the only real discount was on the $9.99 subscription fee.
"Acceptable." He nodded. "We'll arrange for priority full payment."
"A pleasure doing business with you." Paul extended his hand.
Coulson shook the still-youthful hand, a strange feeling washing over him. He felt as though he hadn't been negotiating with a fourteen-year-old boy, but trading with an old monster who had lived for centuries. Every step had been calculated to perfection. On the surface, it seemed he had gotten the better end of the deal, but he couldn't shake the feeling... that something was wrong.
The contract was quickly signed electronically. Paul secured S.H.I.E.L.D.'s promise of priority payment, a massive sum that would become his ammunition for buying up Stark Industries stock at rock bottom, and the seed capital for his own tech empire.
He stood up, ready to leave. It had been a fruitful day, and he was in a good mood.
"Paul, if you would wait a moment."
Coulson's voice came from behind him, laced with an unusual gravity and hesitation.
Paul's steps halted. He turned, his brow furrowed slightly.
He could sense that what came next was the true purpose of today's meeting. Everything before had just been an appetizer.
Coulson adjusted his glasses, his expression serious as he looked at him.
"Before I came here, Director Fury assigned me another task. It has nothing to do with deals or contracts." He paused. "It's... a personal matter."
Paul's heart sank. A sense of foreboding washed over him without warning.
He stared at Coulson, waiting for the final piece of the puzzle to be revealed.
Coulson spoke slowly, each word a heavy bomb detonating in Paul's mind.
"The Director is very interested in your origins."
"He wants to know everything about your mother, Dr. Lina Li."