The creation of the new element was nothing more than a brief detour—it did nothing to disrupt Peter's overall plans. His pace remained steady, every step advancing with precision.
Umbrella's biological laboratories were operating at full throttle, but at the same time, its military weapons division was progressing just as rapidly. Advanced technologies from Cybertron, Umbrella Corporation, the G.I. Joe universe, and countless other sci-fi worlds were continuously being integrated. Under Peter's direction, one new weapon after another was brought into existence.
Energy weapons, energy shields, thermal blades, powered armor, sonic weapons… almost every single day, the weapons lab reported breakthroughs. New prototypes were born, tested, refined—each one pushing the boundaries of modern warfare further.
Three months after the New Mexico incident—
Inside a conference room, Peter stood before a camera, addressing what appeared to be an empty space. In reality, every seat was occupied—just not physically. His audience sat thousands of miles away, in a distant nation.
"Gentlemen," Peter began calmly, "this is our latest energy shield technology. Depending on the power configuration, it can withstand anything from a 9mm bullet to a three-megaton nuclear strike."
Across the screen were his clients—representatives from Russia.
At first glance, the situation seemed almost absurd. An American arms dealer selling weapons to the Russian military?
But in truth, it wasn't so strange at all.
First of all, Umbrella wasn't technically an American company. Its registration was based in the Cayman Islands—a common choice for multinational corporations looking to save hundreds of billions in taxes annually.
Secondly… what was wrong with selling weapons to other nations?
An arms dealer had no loyalty. In peacetime, you sold weapons to rivals. In wartime, you sold weapons to whoever could pay—even if they were the ones shooting at you. That was the true professionalism of the trade.
Nationality, belief, morality—none of those mattered in this business. If they did, no one would ever become an arms dealer.
As for the argument that Umbrella's weapons were too advanced—even more advanced than what its own "home country" used?
Peter could only shrug.
He had offered these technologies to Nick Fury.
S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't want them.
What was he supposed to do—beg them to take it?
"Mr. Parker," a composed voice spoke from the other side, "would it be possible for us to conduct a field test of this shield technology?"
Peter smiled slightly. "General Andrey, your rapid economic rise over just a few decades… it's nothing short of remarkable. I believe we can build a very strong partnership."
On the other end, the official from the Ministry of Defense returned the smile, though inwardly he was far more excited than he let on.
From his perspective, this was practically a gift.
He had no idea what had gone wrong on the American side—that they would pass up such technology—but if someone was willing to hand over cutting-edge weapons, Russia wasn't about to refuse. They were experts at quietly seizing opportunities and turning them into long-term advantages.
Whether this was a trap or not didn't matter—for now.
Because the bait…
Was simply too tempting.
What he didn't know, however, was that Peter had no intention of setting a trap at all.
Fury's rejection didn't bother him much. Business was business, and money still had to be made.
Umbrella's market value had been skyrocketing thanks to the healing serum. Even without mass production, limited experimental treatments had already been released, allowing wealthy patients—especially those with severe disabilities—to benefit from the technology.
While this fell short of public expectations, it offered something far more important: hope. Combined with Umbrella's consistent messaging—that all profits were being reinvested into further research—investor confidence remained strong.
Still, market value was not the same as actual profit.
Unless Peter chose to dilute his shares through financing, which he had no intention of doing, he needed other revenue streams.
And to generate truly massive profits…
He needed equally massive buyers.
At Umbrella's current scale, deals below a billion dollars were hardly worth considering. Anything Peter personally handled started at tens of billions.
Yet globally, there were only a handful of buyers capable of meeting that threshold.
Even the oil-rich elites of the Middle East couldn't sustain such transactions on a national level—their wealth was personal, not systemic.
In reality, Peter's options were limited: Russia, China, India, and Japan.
And of those three…
His preference was clear.
India and Japan didn't particularly appeal to him—not when it came to selling his best technology, even if India was famously known in the global arms market for being "easy money."
That left Russia and China.
"One month from now," Peter said calmly, "we'll meet. I'll bring a batch of prototypes for demonstration. Additionally, I'll be presenting a few special products."
He paused slightly, letting the words sink in before adding—
"You may want to increase your budget. By several times."
After the meeting ended, Peter spoke privately with General, leaving just enough mystery to spark anticipation.
After all, he was a businessman.
But business…
Was never his ultimate goal.
He wasn't interested in holding back his best products. The faster he acquired massive amounts of capital, the faster he could push forward into something even greater.
The real game—
Had only just begun.
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T/N:
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