"I was caught up with some work last night and didn't check my phone. Do you need something?"
It was the morning of the 18th when Professor Ethan Harper finally replied to Tony Snow's message.
Tony, who usually kept his phone on silent while studying in the library, didn't see the message until lunch. As soon as he did, he fired off a response:
"Yes, Professor Harper, I was hoping to speak with you about something important. I have tutoring commitments this afternoon and tomorrow. Would you happen to be available Monday through Friday?"
This time, Harper replied almost immediately.
"Let's plan for Monday afternoon. You don't have classes now anyway, right?"
He already knew Tony's course load was essentially nonexistent—Tony had completed everything early.
With the meeting set, Tony closed his phone and resumed his part-time tutoring session later that afternoon at the home of one of his regular students, Lin Sharp.
The sessions on the 18th and 19th passed like clockwork. Lin was a fast learner, and now that she was asking fewer questions, Tony had more downtime during their study hours.
He used that downtime to read—first finishing the three-volume Dragonheart series, then moving on to Journey of a Dragon & His Youth, a book of essays by the same author, one he remembered from a simulated life.
Two hours passed in a blink. Tony was happy—Lin's academic progress meant fewer interruptions, and that meant more time for paid reading.
The money you earn by working hard is compensation. The money you earn while slacking off? That's profit.
By Sunday, Tony had wrapped up both sessions for the week. After finishing the last essay in the collection, he glanced at the time—still ten minutes left.
He wandered over to Megan's bookshelf and pulled out a manga. Just from the pastel art and floral cover, Tony could tell it was shojo—teen romance, clearly.
He didn't mind. He was just passing the time.
Megan eventually turned around and saw what he was reading.
"You've finished all the novels already?" she asked.
Tony nodded. "Yep. No wonder you like that author—they really understand young people. But... I don't think they know how to develop a young protagonist. Writing about youth is one thing. Writing about growth? That's harder."
"You can tell that just from reading it?" Lin said, clearly intrigued. "Are you saying there's no ending? How would you even know?"
"There'll be an ending," Tony replied. "I'm sure the author already decided how it'll end before they started. But getting there convincingly? That's the hard part. You've got this awkward teenage protagonist with zero charisma—how are they going to believably evolve into the person the ending requires? I doubt the author can pull it off."
Lin stared at him, surprised by how seriously he spoke.
"You really thought that far ahead about a manga?" she asked.
Tony stood up and shrugged. "You'll understand in a few years. You're still young."
And with that, he left.
Tony had planned to speak with Lin's father, Mr. Sharp, about potential investment in his startup. But the man hadn't been home all weekend, and Tony hadn't set anything up in advance. It wasn't the right moment.
After Tony left, Lin stood by the door thinking over what he'd said. She remembered the endings of the author's other books. Come to think of it... Tony might be right.
"This guy is something else. He's brilliant in both science and literature," she murmured in admiration.
Monday Morning
Tony's student entrepreneurship loan finally landed in his account.
Just over $15,000—a substantial sum for a college student, but barely a splash for a biotech startup.
The school had also chipped in with a small matching grant, bringing his available cash up to around $17,000.
Not nearly enough to fund a functioning lab. Not even close.
That's why Tony was here today—waiting in a quiet faculty lounge to meet with Professor Ethan Harper.
At the appointed time, the professor walked in, sleeves rolled up, notebook in hand.
"So," Harper said, getting straight to the point, "What's this about?"
Tony stood. "I wanted to talk to you about a company I recently started."
Harper raised an eyebrow. "Already seeking investment?"
Tony smiled, not defensively, but with quiet confidence. "All companies have to start somewhere. Even the big ones were once just an idea."
Harper chuckled. He couldn't tell if Tony was being bold or just young—but either way, it was entertaining. "Alright. I'll bite. Tell me what you've got."
This company wasn't just some vanity project. For Tony, it was the foundation of everything—his vehicle to accelerate the development of biotechnology using knowledge from the future.
In previous simulations, Tony had struggled to understand why, despite his disinterest in entrepreneurship, he always ended up diving headfirst into business.
Now it all made sense.
If the Life Simulator ever vanished, Tony's most valuable asset would still be the scientific knowledge in his head. In that world, he could proceed slowly—one idea, one paper at a time.
But in this world—where the Simulator remained—his knowledge would only keep expanding. He had to keep pace with it, or drown in it.
The faster he pushed society forward, the more advanced knowledge he'd unlock. It was a virtuous loop—but only if he scaled.
He couldn't do it alone.
That's what the company was for: a scalable platform to turn his future insights into real-world tech. Instead of producing one breakthrough every few months, a well-run company could produce five, ten, even twenty per month—each feeding into the next, compounding the speed of progress.
But none of that was possible without seed capital.
Professor Harper leaned forward. "So tell me, Tony. What's the company called, what's its goal—and what exactly do you want from me?"
Tony met his gaze.
"I want to build the future. And I want you to help fund it."