The receptionist, Aiya, led Adam through the clean, quiet corridors of the Green Refinery administration building. Her earlier annoyance seemed to have faded slightly, replaced by a professional but still distant politeness.

  Maybe the $500 tip had smoothed things over, or maybe she was just following orders now. Adam followed silently, his mind buzzing with anticipation. He was about to meet someone important, someone who could potentially become the first major piece in his grand puzzle.

  Finally, Aiya stopped in front of a solid wooden door, slightly larger and more imposing than the others they had passed. This must be it. She gestured towards a small, well-lit office just inside the door. It wasn't the massive, luxurious office Adam might have expected for the owner of such a huge company, but it felt efficient, organized, and important.

  "Mr. Sterling's personal assistant is in here. He handles preliminary meetings sometimes," Aiya explained briefly, then knocked lightly and opened the door without waiting for a reply. She stepped aside, allowing Adam to enter first.

  The office was neat, functional, but not overly fancy. A large, tidy desk took up most of one end of the room. Behind the desk sat a young man who looked to be in his early thirties.

  He had dark hair, neatly combed, and wore glasses that gave him an intelligent, professional appearance. He wasn't wearing a suit jacket, just a crisp white shirt and tie, suggesting he was busy working. His attention was focused intently on a stack of papers spread out before him – charts, reports, documents filled with numbers and technical jargon.

  Standing quietly a little behind the desk, flanking the seated man, were two other men dressed in identical, simple black suits. They both held notepads and pens, their expressions neutral and observant. They looked like assistants or maybe security detail, ready to take notes or react if needed. The atmosphere in the room was quiet, focused, and business-like.

  When Aiya ushered Adam into the room, the two standing men immediately turned their heads, their eyes scanning Adam quickly, taking in his simple clothes and youthful appearance.

  They didn't look impressed, just watchful. A moment later, the young man behind the desk lifted his gaze from his paperwork. He looked up at Adam with a slight, polite smile, though his eyes seemed sharp and appraising behind his glasses. He gestured with an open hand towards an empty chair positioned in front of his desk.

  "Please, come in, have a seat," the man said, his voice calm and professional.

  Adam walked forward calmly, projecting an air of confidence he didn't entirely feel on the inside. His heart was still pounding from the adrenaline of the past few days – the beating, the gold sales, the land deal. But he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing completely on this crucial meeting. He sat down in the offered chair, his movements smooth and deliberate.

  The man behind the desk adjusted his glasses carefully, leaning forward slightly, studying Adam with open curiosity. "Well, hello there," he began, his tone friendly but clearly intrigued.

  "I must say, I'm rather impressed. Most people go through HR, submit applications, wait weeks for an interview… You just walk right in and somehow convince security and my receptionist to bring you directly to me. That takes some nerve." He paused, then added with a smile,

  "So, instead of applying through the usual, boring process for a job, you came straight to the source. I admire that direct approach."

  His words, friendly as they sounded, hit Adam with the force of unexpected confusion. A job?

  Adam blinked, processing the man's words. He thinks I'm here looking for a job? The assumption was so far off base, so completely wrong, it momentarily threw him off balance.

  He thought back to the journey here, the risks he'd taken, the massive oil reserve he'd created, the empire he planned to build. A job? He wasn't here to ask for employment; he was here to propose a partnership, a massive business deal!

  Before Adam could formulate a polite correction, the businessman continued, leaning back slightly, looking encouraging. "So, tell me about yourself. What are your qualifications? What kind of position are you looking for? Don't worry," he added reassuringly, clearly misinterpreting Adam's silence as nervousness,

  "like I said, I appreciate your boldness. If you have the skills, I'll personally make sure you get a good position here at Green Refinery. We always have room for talented, motivated people." His tone was that of a manager evaluating a potential hire, friendly but business-like.

  Adam realized he needed to clear up this misunderstanding immediately, before it went any further. This wasn't about finding work; this was about reshaping the energy landscape of the entire country! He quickly raised both hands, palms facing outward in a peaceful, universally understood gesture of correction.

  "Oh, no, no, sir. You're mistaken," Adam said firmly but politely. "Thank you for the kind thought, but I'm not here looking for a job." His voice was calm, steady, leaving no doubt. It was crucial that the man understood his real purpose right from the start. Wasting time on job talk was not an option.

  The receptionist, Aiya, who had been standing quietly near the door, watched the exchange with a neutral, almost bored expression. She’d probably seen all sorts of strange requests and misunderstandings in her time here. The two suited assistants behind the desk remained silent, watchful, their expressions unchanging.

  The young businessman's friendly smile faltered slightly as he registered Adam's correction. Surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by renewed curiosity. The mood in the room shifted subtly. The easy assumption was gone, replaced by a question mark. If not for a job, then why was this plainly dressed young man here, having seemingly bribed his way in?

  The businessman frowned thoughtfully, resting his chin on his hand, studying Adam with a more serious, appraising look now. "Not here for a job?" he repeated slowly. "Then… why did you want to meet with me? What is this about?" His voice was still calm, but the edge of curiosity was sharper now, demanding a clear explanation for this unusual interruption.

  This was Adam's opening. He leaned forward slightly in his chair, mirroring the businessman's posture, meeting his gaze directly. He let his own confidence show, clear and unwavering.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "I'm here because I have a business proposal for you, sir," Adam stated clearly, his voice ringing with purpose. "A significant one." He knew he had to present his idea convincingly, make the businessman see past his appearance and recognize the potential value he offered.

  The businessman's eyes widened slightly again, this time not with confusion, but with genuine surprise. A business proposal? From this kid? For a moment, the room fell completely silent again as everyone – the businessman, his assistants, even Aiya by the door – absorbed the unexpected statement.

  Then, suddenly, the businessman started to laugh. It wasn't a loud, booming laugh, but a light, slightly incredulous chuckle that seemed to bubble up unexpectedly. He laughed for a few seconds, shaking his head slightly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. The sound filled the small office, bouncing off the neat walls.

  Adam sat back slightly, watching the man laugh, feeling a prickle of confusion and maybe a little annoyance. Was the idea of him having a serious business proposal really that funny? Was he being mocked? He waited patiently for the laughter to subside, his own expression remaining neutral, masking his inner puzzlement.

  After a few moments, the businessman stopped laughing, though a residual smile lingered on his lips. He adjusted his glasses again, looking at Adam with a mixture of amusement and genuine curiosity now. "Okay, okay," he said, his tone measured but still light.

  "Forgive me, but… I have to admit, I've never had a potential business partner show up dressed quite like… well, like you." He gestured vaguely towards Adam's simple, slightly worn clothes. "And usually," he continued, his smile fading slightly as his eyes sharpened with inquiry, "major proposals come through formal channels. Presentations are scheduled. Lawyers are involved. People bring their managers, their teams. But you? You don't even have a manager or an assistant with you?"

  His question wasn't entirely mocking now; it seemed like a genuine point of confusion. Adam's approach was so unconventional, so far outside the norms of high-level business dealings, that the businessman seemed truly perplexed.

  "And usually," the businessman went on, leaning forward again, his tone becoming more serious, "whenever someone brings a major proposal to me, especially one involving resources or supply chains, I'm informed well in advance by my team. Meetings are vetted, scheduled properly through the right departments. But you… you just walk right in off the street, bribe my security, charm my receptionist, and land yourself in my assistant's office demanding to see the boss."

  He paused, shaking his head again, though this time it seemed less dismissive and more… intrigued. "That's bold. Very bold. I'll give you that." His voice held a strange mixture now – lingering disbelief, maybe a touch of admiration for Adam's sheer nerve, but also clear skepticism about the substance behind the audacity.

  Adam listened quietly, processing the businessman's words. He thought for a moment about his past life, his old job as a low-level office worker. Back then, he would never have dreamed of doing something like this.

  He followed the rules, kept his head down, stayed within the rigid lines of corporate etiquette. He wouldn't have known the first thing about scheduling high-level meetings or preparing formal proposals. He was just a cog in the machine.

  But now? Things were different. Desperate. Urgent. He didn't have time to learn the proper business formalities, the slow dance of corporate procedure. His life, his future, potentially hung in the balance, dependent on moving quickly, decisively.

  The ticking clock set by John Walker's threat felt very real. He couldn't afford to wait weeks for a scheduled meeting that might never happen. He had to seize the opportunity, however unconventional his methods.

  Gathering his resolve, pushing aside any lingering self-doubt about his approach, Adam met the businessman's questioning gaze steadily. It was time to cut to the chase. No more games, no more misunderstandings.

  "Sir," Adam said, his voice clear and direct, leaving no room for ambiguity this time. "The reason I'm here, the reason I needed to see someone in charge immediately, is simple." He took a breath. "I want to sell you crude oil."

  The words landed in the quiet office like stones dropped into a still pond. The businessman's remaining smirk vanished instantly. His face went cold, serious. The shift was dramatic, immediate. Any trace of amusement or light curiosity disappeared, replaced by a sharp, focused intensity. His eyes, which had been twinkling with a mix of surprise and amusement just moments before, now narrowed, becoming laser-focused on Adam.

  A tiny, almost invisible grin flickered across Adam's own face as he registered the change. Finally, he thought. Now he's listening. Now he understands this isn't a joke. He had finally, truly captured the man's undivided attention, even if it was now laced with deep skepticism and caution.

  Wasting no time, wanting to capitalize on the sudden shift in atmosphere, Adam reached into his simple canvas bag. His hand phased briefly into his inventory, locating the small glass vial containing the sample of raw crude oil he’d obtained. He pulled it out smoothly, casually.

  He carefully placed the small vial on the polished mahogany desk, right between himself and the businessman. The dark, thick liquid inside caught the office lights, glistening with an oily sheen.

  "This," Adam stated, his voice steady, each word measured and deliberate, "is a sample of the crude oil I have available."

  The businessman's eyes immediately fixed on the vial. He leaned forward slowly, his gaze locked onto the dark liquid. For a long, charged moment, the entire room seemed to fall silent again. The only sound was the almost imperceptible hum of the building's air conditioning and the soft rustle of papers on the desk as perhaps one of the assistants shifted slightly.

  The businessman stared intently at the oil. Its rich, dark color, its thick texture visible through the glass – it seemed to promise both immense value and potential complications. It looked like real crude oil.

  But where would this kid get it? Slowly, cautiously, he lifted his gaze from the vial back to meet Adam's calm, expectant eyes. His expression was unreadable now, a mask of professional neutrality, but Adam could sense the intense calculation happening behind it.

  Adam decided to press his advantage, to state his purpose clearly. "I want to make a deal with you," he continued, his voice filled with quiet confidence.

  "A mutually beneficial one. I want your company, Green Refinery, to buy crude oil directly from me. A new, domestic source, right here in Fieland. No more relying solely on unstable foreign imports, no more paying exorbitant international market prices set by—"

  He paused mid-sentence, watching the businessman's reaction closely, ready to elaborate. But before Adam could finish his sentence, before he could fully lay out his vision, the businessman's reaction was sudden, unexpected, and violent.

  He shot up from his chair, his movement abrupt, startling everyone in the room. His face, which had been controlled moments before, flushed dark red with sudden, inexplicable fury. He slammed his hand down hard on the massive desk, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the quiet office.

  "GET OUT!!!" the businessman roared, his voice thundering, filled with shocking rage.

  The abrupt command, the sheer volume and fury behind it, hit Adam like a physical blow. He recoiled slightly in his chair, completely stunned. His carefully constructed confidence wavered. His heart pounded frantically against his ribs. He stared at the enraged man, utterly bewildered. What had just happened? Where did this fury come from?

  "I… I don't understand," Adam stammered, his voice dropping to a confused whisper. "What… what do you mean? Why?" The rejection was so sudden, so extreme, it made no sense.

  But the businessman wasn't listening. His fury seemed to escalate even further. "DO YOU THINK I'M A FOOL?!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the room.

  He pointed a trembling finger first at the vial of oil, then stabbing it towards Adam. "Do you think you can just walk in here with some vial of who-knows-what and try to pull some kind of scam?! Do you know who I am?! What this company represents?!"

  He spun around sharply, turning his rage towards the terrified receptionist, Aiya, who was still hovering near the door. "AIYA! WHO LET HIM IN?! DID YOU NOT SCREEN HIM?! WHO APPROVED THIS MEETING?!" His tone was accusatory, furious, searching for someone to blame for this perceived insult.

  Aiya, now visibly shaken, her face pale, stammered out a response, her voice barely audible. "S-Sir… Mr. Sterling… the security chief called… he said an important businessman had arrived… someone with a very urgent proposal for you personally…" Her explanation only seemed to fuel his rage.

  "IMPORTANT BUSINESSMAN?!" the man roared back, incredulous.

  He gestured wildly at Adam. "Does this look like an important businessman to you?! Call security! Call the chief here! NOW!" he ordered loudly, his voice cracking with fury. Then, pointing a shaking finger directly at Adam again, he barked, his eyes blazing, "And get HIM out of my office! Get him out of this building! NOW!"

  The room was instantly thrown into chaos. The two suited assistants exchanged quick, uncertain glances, looking unsure whether to intervene or just stay out of the line of fire.

  Aiya looked like she was about to cry. Adam sat frozen in his chair, the small vial of crude oil still sitting innocently on the desk between them, a stark contrast to the sudden storm of anger it seemed to have unleashed.

  His mind raced frantically, trying to understand. What went wrong? He had been bold, yes, unconventional, certainly. But he had presented a sample, stated his purpose clearly. Why the sudden explosion of rage? Had he miscalculated completely? Was his offer somehow insulting? Or was there something else going on here, something he didn't understand about this company, this man, this industry?

  The harsh reality of the business world, or at least this corner of it, struck him with brutal force. His approach, which had worked with the desperate farmer and the greedy security guard, had backfired spectacularly here. In this place of established power and rigid procedure, his boldness wasn't seen as confidence, but as arrogance, as a trick, an insult.

  As the businessman continued to rage, shouting orders, demanding security, the echoes of his fury ringing in Adam’s ears, Adam sat in stunned silence. His carefully crafted proposal, the potential key to his empire, hadn't just been rejected; it had been met with explosive hostility. The path forward suddenly seemed much steeper, much more complicated, and much more dangerous than he had realized. His plan had hit its first major, unexpected roadblock.