Twenty minutes passed, then thirty. Arthur remained patient, his mind preoccupied with his approach to Mr. Hillard.
The receptionist finally returned, a relieved smile on her face.
"Mr. Hillard will see you now, Mr. John," she announced.
Arthur rose from his seat. This woman, caught between her duty and an undeniable air of importance, had ultimately chosen to grant him an audience.
He nodded his thanks and followed her towards a set of elevators. Another brief ascent, another hallway adorned with expensive artwork, and finally, Arthur stood before a massive oak door.
The receptionist gave him a final, encouraging smile before shepherding him inside.
Xavier Hillard wasn't what Arthur expected. The man's size overwhelmed the large oak desk he sat behind.
A thick cigar protruded from his lips. He wore a black suit that was strained at the seams, and the fabric was clearly enlarged to fit his size. Jewelry also glinted on his fingers.
This was the exact image of a corporate leader that Arthur had verified with his Tamashii. This was a mob boss—exactly who he needed.
"Mr. Hillard, I presume?" Arthur greeted him.
Xavier grunted, putting out his cigar, saying, "That's me. You're John, right? Heard you have some business for me."
His eyes, small and beady, narrowed as they landed on the briefcase resting in Arthur's hand. Money.
Arthur knew that look in his eyes; it was unmistakable. Money was the language that Xavier understood, and Arthur knew exactly how to speak it.
"Let's get down to business then, Mr. Hillard," Arthur said, lacking any unnecessary pleasantries.
He reached down and placed the briefcase on the desk.
Xavier leaned back in his chair and rumbled, "Straightforward, I like that." He then gestured toward the briefcase. "What have you got there, John?"
Arthur looked him in the eyes. This man, for all his outward bluster, was predictable. Greed, in all its ugliness, was Xavier's motivator.
Arthur was going to exploit it.
Without a word, he retrieved the rolled-up blueprint first and unfurled it right on Xavier's desk.
The mob boss's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the design written across the paper. It wasn't a simple floor plan, not by a long shot. This was an architectural marvel—a towering, seventeen-story plaza with walkways, cascading gardens, and complicated water features.
"What in blazes is this?" Xavier roared in bewilderment. "Do you think I run some sort of charity? My company doesn't casually take requests from random strangers to build... to build this... this monstrosity!"
Arthur remained calm, not at all fazed by Xavier's bluster. He simply watched as the man sputtered and ranted.
"A project like this would take months, even years! Do you have the permits? The manpower? The resources? Do you even have a—"
"Thirty," Arthur said, cutting him off.
Xavier blinked, the redness draining from his face. Then he croaked, "Thirty?"
"Yes…" Arthur nodded. "Thirty million ryō. Up front."
The room became silent for a moment. Tension rose as Arthur watched Xavier's face, waiting for the inevitable shift.
From the time that Arthur waited, he had been monitoring Xavier's behaviour from the lobby. This was a sinful man, one who was willing to sell his own mother for fame and fortune.
Why? Because of greed, that insatiable serpent. And it slowly began to coil around Xavier's heart.
Thirty million ryō. The outrageousness of the project faded into the background. Finally, a greasy smile split Xavier's face. The mob boss beneath the businessman had taken control.
"Thirty million, you say?" he drawled, now more interested.
Arthur knew the game was won. This wasn't a proposition Xavier could refuse.
The standard construction rate in the Water Country hovered around one to three million ryō, depending on the complexity of the project. Arthur was offering ten times that amount—a golden carrot dangling before an evil man!
With an almost theatrical flourish, Arthur flipped open the briefcase. Inside, neatly stacked, lay bundles of crisp ryō bills.
The sight of the money acted as a further substance, fueling Xavier's avarice.
"S… so, you're serious about this offer?" he stammered.
"Did you think I was here to waste your time and mine, Mr. Hillard?" Arthur answered, raising an eyebrow.
Xavier chuckled as if he were choking. When he stopped, he said, "Fair enough. But let me get this straight... full payment upfront?"
"Every ryō…"
A series of agreements unfolded quickly after that.
Contracts were signed, and non-disclosure agreements ensuring Arthur's anonymity were put in place. Xavier, of course, needed to be compensated for his additional efforts in securing permits and approvals, a task that required Arthur to pay up another two million ryō.
Arthur didn't flinch. He had anticipated additional expenses, such as fees and hush money.
What pleased him most was Vinci's reputation for absolute secrecy when it came to their clients.
In the end, the deal was finalized.
Thirty million ryō for the construction, an additional two million for permits and approvals—a hefty price tag, but one that left Arthur with approximately three million ryō remaining.
More importantly, the construction itself was the real surprise.
Xavier, after initial skepticism, assured Arthur that the project could be completed within seven and a half months. This was quite fast considering the era they were in!
Apparently, Vinci prided itself on its efficiency, especially when faced with well-funded projects.
Arthur was more than content. He had accomplished more than he had anticipated. He had the funding, the construction underway, and some left-over money to use.
But why was he building a plaza of all things in a world comprised of ninjas who could use superpowers?
The plaza itself was a mere façade for the true unit hidden within—a laboratory unlike any other.
This colossal structure, towering two hundred seventy feet in the city and ranging about thirty hundred thousand square feet, would serve a dual purpose.
The visible exterior would be comprised of residential quarters, office spaces, and vacant retail stores. A building like this would project an image of prosperity and business. It would be a carefully curated illusion, a smokescreen for the clandestine activities within its core.
Nestled at the heart of the plaza, occupying three floors from the fifth level upwards, was going to be the laboratory.
The blueprints that Arthur had written revealed a network of rooms, each designed to serve a specific function. Counters lined with specialized equipment, rows of freezers cold enough to preserve bio-samples, and massive cloning vats disguised as innocuous water tanks.
But it was the dedicated gardening center within the laboratory that truly captured Arthur's imagination. There, it would have natural lighting, allowing him to grow plants—natural herbs with potent medicinal properties and deadly poisons capable of inducing agonizing paralysis.
Whatever he felt like growing inside, he would.
These, along with a multitude of other botanical wonders, would fuel his experimentation, providing the raw materials for his breakthroughs.
The way the blueprints were written would be enough to fool any contractor, ensuring Xavier's construction crew remained unaware of the true nature of their handiwork.
Arthur had even listed the construction materials needed for the laboratory.
They were far from ordinary: reinforced steel capable of withstanding immense pressure, specialized insulation panels that would dampen sound and vibrations, and a complex ventilation system designed to filter out any trace of hazardous fumes.
The cost of these materials, coupled with the sheer complexity of the project, was precisely why he had overpaid Xavier.
And if the mob boss stayed true to the blueprints, the finished product wouldn't resemble a laboratory in the traditional sense.
No, this would be a monument to scientific advancement—a marvel of technology that would rival any subnuclear science facility. A place where the boundaries between chakra and science could intertwine.
This laboratory had to be flawless!
Experiments, medical procedures, and the creation of groundbreaking new techniques—everything had to be perfect for Arthur to proceed.
That's simply who he is. If what he created wasn't perfect, then he would surely try again until it was.
Regarding time, seven and a half months was more than reasonable. He was a man of immense patience, a Christian who was devoted to the greater good.
Some time later.
Rumours began to spread through the town like wildfire. The news that Vinci, the country's construction giant, had taken on a colossal project ignited a frenzy of speculation.
A building of such scale, a towering plaza that would dwarf even the most prominent landmarks, was bound to attract attention.
Citizens clustered in marketplaces and chatted non-stop about it.
"Who could be wealthy enough to commission such a project?" one woman questioned another.
"They say it'll have everything—apartments, offices, even shops!" someone chimed.
The media, ever hungry for a story, came to the town like vultures. Reporters with microphones and cameramen jostled for position, attempting to extract any details they could from Vinci's notoriously tight-lipped PR department.
Arthur, however, had foreseen this media frenzy. He had specifically chosen Xavier for this very reason.
The mob boss, with his extensive network of contacts, possessed the "persuasive ability" necessary to deflect unwanted attention.
The public would be allowed to ask endless questions, but Arthur's identity would remain a closely guarded secret. And even if his image or face were released, not a single character would recognize him.
He excelled at pulling the strings from the shadows.
The location for this plaza was strategically chosen. Building it within the town itself would not only streamline the process but also allow Xavier to tap into the local workforce, further accelerating construction.
As the design team assembled, pouring over Arthur's crafted blueprints, the necessary permits were secured through Xavier's "unofficial channels," setting the stage for the construction phase to begin.
Business, for Arthur, was not an entirely foreign concept. He knew precisely what he needed in place once the plaza was complete.
Maintenance plans would ensure the longevity of his creation, while a focus on sustainability would lessen its environmental impact.
Accessibility, however, was paramount. This plaza, in addition to serving as a mask for his true purpose, would also be a part of the town.
He wouldn't turn it into a secluded fortress unless he needed to; it would welcome the public, albeit unknowingly, into his carefully constructed web.
And then there was the name.
Arthur, during his contract signing, had pondered it. The name needed to be evocative, something that would inspire a sense of honesty among the unsuspecting citizens.
'Built so high up that its corridors could be bathed in perpetual sunshine,' he thought at the time. 'A plaza that conceals a hidden threat in their own flowing land, a secret the Water Country would never suspect... Sun Stream Plaza.'
It was perfect. A name that captured both the grandeur of the structure and the promise of his bright reign.
This news, no matter how prevalent it was in a country, would be difficult to reach the players ears.
They were in a whole other country, and their desires didn't pertain to forming business plans; they desired to follow the narrative.
That is what separated them from Arthur. No matter if they wanted power or had ulterior motives for being in this world, he was a rebel, consistently proving himself time and time again.
He was both skilled and practical when it came to business. He knew how to manipulate, read people, and, more importantly, adapt to any situation.
These weren't skills he developed in a single night; he was born this way, having prayed to Jesus Christ to hone his mind, use it, and benefit others—that was his guiding principle, a way to turn the tide for those in need.
But for those who tread on his beliefs, they'll soon learn the sharp edge of his wrath.
Arthur had laid the groundwork, and now he would wait.
The construction would take time, but patience was a virtue he possessed in abundance. The seeds of his ambition had been sown, and he would nurture them carefully, watching them grow into a formidable force that would reshape this world.