Later that evening, Alan stepped out of the private shower room attached to the underground training gym with a towel hanging loosely around his neck. Damp strands of hair clung against his forehead while steam still rolled faintly off his skin. The soreness from training remained buried deep in his arms and shoulders, heavier now that his adrenaline had faded.
He adjusted the strap of his gym bag higher against one shoulder and made his way down the quiet hallway toward his office. The motion sensors overhead flickered on one after another as he walked past framed innovation awards, prototype displays, and glass cases filled with dismantled tech components from older projects.
The moment he reached the office door, his pace slowed slightly. Something felt off. The lights underneath the doorway were already on. Alan's hand paused around the doorknob before he pushed the door open quickly.
"Who the hell is…"
The words stopped halfway out of his mouth.
Ben Winchester sat calmly behind the desk with one leg crossed over the other, several pages of Alan's schematics spread neatly in front of him. One hand rested near a tablet screen displaying rotating armor blueprints while the other tapped lightly against the armrest of the leather chair.
"Dad?" Alan stepped inside fully now. "What are you doing here?"
Ben looked up from the paperwork without reacting to the sudden entrance. His attention moved over Alan carefully for a moment, taking in the damp hair, flushed skin, and the exhaustion still visible in his posture.
"I came to check on you," Ben replied evenly. "You spent almost the entire summer isolated in this beach villa working and training by yourself." He leaned back slightly in the chair before motioning vaguely toward Alan's frame. "Mmh. You've changed a bit." His eyes lingered on Alan's shoulders and arms. "You've been living in the gym lately, huh?"
Alan pulled a chair out across from the desk and dropped into it with a tired exhale. His muscles immediately protested the movement.
"Trying to stay in shape, I guess."
Ben's eyes briefly lowered toward Alan's hands resting near the edge of the desk. The skin around his knuckles still looked swollen beneath the healing cuts. Faint redness lingered across the joints despite the fresh wraps.
"Hmm."
He did not comment further. Instead, he slid one of the armor schematics across the desk toward Alan.
"Walk me through your project boy."
Alan leaned forward, resting both forearms against his knees for a second before grabbing the papers.
"Alright." He flipped one page over and pointed toward the layered structure designs. "I'm developing military-grade armored exosuits for international contracts. There'll be two categories. Basic units and premium units."
Ben stayed silent, listening attentively.
"The base models are designed for mobility and battlefield support. Flight capability, enhanced lifting strength around ten tons, reinforced durability against lower-level superhuman threats, integrated energy weapons, encrypted communications systems, environmental resistance, the usual." He turned another page. "The premium line is much more advanced. Around fifty tons of lifting strength, larger energy reserves, adaptive combat systems, stronger armor plating, better weapons output, faster processing speed."
Ben's fingers slowly tapped once against the desk.
"And the shutdown protocol?"
Alan nodded immediately. "Already built in." He reached toward another schematic showing internal coding layers. "If any government, military branch, or private owner goes rogue, I can disable the suit remotely. Complete lockdown. Movement, weapons, power systems, all gone."
Ben uncrossed his legs and leaned forward now, interest finally showing more clearly across his face. "And manufacturing costs?"
Alan answered without hesitation. "Between three hundred and five hundred million depending on the configuration and materials."
"And your selling price?"
"The standard models go for around six hundred million each. Premium units start at one billion minimum."
Ben stared at him for several seconds after hearing the numbers. Alan continued smoothly.
"So far, I've funded everything myself. Prototypes too. Only four engineers from Winchester Enterprises even know parts of the project exist, and none of them have full access." He leaned back slightly. "I was planning on bringing everything to you soon anyway."
Ben picked up another blueprint and studied it more carefully this time. The office stayed quiet except for the low hum of computers running along the walls. Finally, he spoke again.
"This is too much power to hand over comfortably." He lifted the papers slightly. "Flight systems. Strength enhancement. Energy manipulation. Military encryption. Combat AI support." His mouth shifted faintly with amusement. "Sounds familiar."
Alan gave a small shrug. "Yeah. I noticed the similarities too after a while."
Ben set the paperwork back down before folding both hands together. "You're still years away from public rollout."
"Two or three years minimum," Alan replied. "I still need testing, investors, military partnerships, manufacturing negotiations. I'll probably start attending more galas and corporate events soon just to spread the word around quietly."
"Good." Ben nodded once. "That part matters more than most inventors realize. Billionaires do not buy products first. They buy influence, confidence, and future leverage."
He leaned back deeper into the chair. "A few calls from the company side would speed things up too."
Alan looked at him directly for a moment before speaking again. "Fine." Ben slid the papers aside. "I'll assign you a larger development division and recover the money you already spent through company reimbursement."
Alan immediately shook his head. "You really do not need to do that. I don't want to use the company funds." A tired smirk pulled briefly at the corner of his mouth. "I still have around one hundred fifty billion in personal assets. My previous projects already generate enough profit on their own."
Ben's eyebrow lifted slightly. "Hmm, you say that like it's normal at your age."
Alan gave a lazy shrug. "You raised me in this environment."
For the first time since entering the office, Ben actually looked faintly amused. The expression barely lasted more than a second before his face settled back into something colder and more controlled. He lowered the armor schematics onto the desk carefully.
"Since this project will move through Winchester Enterprises infrastructure, the company takes eighty percent ownership."
Alan's eyebrows lifted immediately. "Eighty?"
Ben did not answer right away. He rose slowly from the chair and walked toward the massive glass window overlooking the beach below. The ocean stretched endlessly outside beneath the darkening evening sky while waves rolled steadily against the shoreline far beneath the villa cliffs. He stood there for a long moment with one hand resting loosely in his pocket and the other adjusting the cuff of his sleeve.
"The factories belong to the company," Ben said calmly while looking outside. "The manufacturing chains. Political protection. Military access. Security divisions. Transportation systems. Legal coverage. Investor networks. Government contracts." His reflection stared back faintly through the glass. "You built the product. Winchester Enterprises builds the machine around it."
Alan stayed quiet for a moment, watching his father's back carefully. Then he slowly lifted three fingers. "Thirty percent."
Ben almost laughed. "You negotiate worse than your mother."
Silence settled across the office. Ben did not turn around immediately. The distant sound of ocean waves continued drifting faintly through the room beneath the low hum of computers. Alan finally rolled his chair sideways toward the small fridge beside the desk. The wheels moved softly across the floor as he reached down, grabbed a cold drink, and cracked it open with a sharp hiss.
Ben spoke again without looking at him. "You ask for thirty like you already calculated the outcome." His voice stayed even. "Why do you think you deserve it?"
Alan took a sip first before answering. "Because without me, there is no product to distribute in the first place."
Ben finally glanced toward him over one shoulder. "A lot of inventors think like that before larger companies bury them."
Alan leaned back slightly in the chair. "A lot of inventors build prototypes." He gestured toward the schematics spread across the desk. "I built scalable military infrastructure."
Ben remained silent. Alan continued calmly now, slipping fully into the technical side of his mind. "The reactors are modular. Parts can be manufactured separately across multiple facilities without exposing the complete system design. The encryption architecture is segmented too. No single engineer outside my core team can access the entire framework."
He took another small drink. "The exosuits are expensive, but governments will not care about the initial cost once casualty reduction numbers start appearing. One suit replacing an entire enhanced combat squad saves billions long-term through deployment efficiency, reduced fatalities, political leverage, and resource preservation."
Ben slowly turned around now. Alan noticed it and kept going. "The premium units are not just weapons. They are deterrents." His fingers tapped lightly against the cold can. "Countries with superhuman threats already spend absurd amounts trying to counter rogue enhanced individuals. These suits let normal military forces compete again without relying entirely on unstable heroes."
Ben folded his arms loosely. "And scalability?"
Alan answered immediately. "The basic units are intentionally designed with controlled limitations. Easier maintenance. Lower energy demand. Lower production cost after the first rollout phase. Once manufacturing stabilizes, profit margins rise naturally." He leaned forward slightly now. "The premium models stay rare intentionally. High exclusivity increases perceived military value and keeps global demand aggressive." A faint smirk pulled briefly at the corner of his mouth. "Fear sells better than technology."
That finally got a visible reaction. Ben breathed out quietly through his nose before turning back toward the ocean again. After several long seconds, he spoke.
"Twenty-five percent."
Alan frowned instantly. "That is low and you know it."
"Then convince me otherwise."
Alan stared at him for a second before standing from the chair completely. The soreness from training still lingered in his movements, though he hid it better than before. He walked closer toward the desk.
"You said it yourself. Winchester Enterprises controls the infrastructure." He pointed toward the schematics. "But I control the actual product. Every upgrade, every reactor improvement, every weapons system, every energy adaptation, every software patch. If I stop innovating, the entire project plateaus."
Ben listened silently. Alan's tone sharpened slightly as he continued. "Unlike most inventors, I've already built multiple billion-dollar systems without company funding. I understand the market, investor psychology, and military demand cycles." He placed the drink down onto the desk, his eyes locking directly onto Ben's. "This project won't become historic because Winchester distributes it. It becomes historic because I created something the world cannot ignore."
Silence filled the office again. Ben remained near the window for several long seconds while the ocean moved quietly beyond the glass. Then he inhaled slowly, deeper this time, before finally nodding once.
"…Fine. Thirty percent to you, boy."
Alan relaxed slightly. "Awesome. Thanks old man."
Ben's eyes narrowed immediately. "You agreed too fast."
Alan blinked once. Ben walked back toward the desk now. "You could have pushed that negotiation to sixty."
Alan stared at him for half a second before muttering under his breath. "…Damn it."
Ben almost smiled again. "This is your first real lesson in corporate power. Never rush numbers. Never show satisfaction too early. The second the other side sees relief on your face, you already lost leverage." He slowly walked around the office while speaking. "The people controlling infrastructure, distribution, influence, and protection usually earn more than the people building the product itself. That is how billionaires stay billionaires."
Alan stayed quiet while listening. Ben eventually stopped near the office door. "You made something valuable. Now the world around it will try to own pieces of it." He opened the door halfway before glancing back toward Alan again. This time his attention briefly dropped toward Alan's wrapped knuckles resting near the desk. "…And maybe I should start showing you some proper moves during training too." Ben's voice carried faint amusement again. "Because if we spar, I am not going easy on you, boy."
Alan scoffed lightly. "I would be disappointed if you did."
Ben gave a small nod. "Good." Then his expression settled again. "Your mother wants you back at the mansion more often too. Stop isolating yourself in this beach villa once you finish here."
Then he left.
The office stayed silent after the door shut behind Ben. Only the low hum of the computers reached the room now. Alan leaned farther back into the chair slowly, exhaustion settling into his shoulders again now that the conversation had ended. The scattered armor schematics remained spread across the desk in front of him beside half-empty coffee cups, dismantled prototype pieces, and handwritten notes covered in calculations.
"Thanks for the lesson, old man!"
His eyes drifted toward the closed office door for a moment before lowering again.
Meanwhile, outside in the hallway, Ben stopped walking. The older man reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his phone while the motion-sensor lights dimmed softly behind him. His thumb moved across the screen calmly, opening a private banking application connected to an account that did not officially exist under the Winchester family name. He transferred seventy percent of the future project shares into the hidden account without hesitation.
The screen reflected briefly across his face while the distant ocean light flickered through the villa windows. Ben stared at the confirmation for a second before locking the phone again and slipping it back into his pocket.
Alan had always insisted on building everything himself… his own money, his own projects, his own success. Ben respected that more than he ever openly admitted. Which was exactly why he never told Alan about the accounts. Teaching harsh lessons mattered. Protecting family mattered more.
Ben adjusted the sleeve of his jacket before continuing down the hallway toward the villa exit.