Several days had passed since Adam and his newly formed team secured those crucial first contracts. It felt like a whirlwind, a blur of frantic activity, long hours, and nervous anticipation.

  But now, standing outside the main processing building of Red Fire Refinery, Adam could see, hear, and even smell the tangible results of their efforts.

  The refinery was no longer silent and empty. It was alive. Operating at full throttle.

  The air around the sprawling ten-hectare complex buzzed constantly with the powerful thrum of machinery.

  Pumps rhythmically pushed crude oil – the very oil Adam had secretly pasted beneath the earth – through the intricate network of newly connected pipes.

  The distillation towers, once just inert metal structures, now steamed gently, working day and night to separate the raw crude into valuable fuels and other products.

  The generators Adam had 'procured' (copied) hummed steadily, providing the massive amounts of power needed to keep the whole operation running.

  And the smell… the strong, pungent, almost sharp scent of crude oil and refined fuels hung heavy in the air. It might have been unpleasant to outsiders, but to Adam and his team, it was the smell of progress, the smell of production, the smell of success finally beginning to flow.

  Inside the fenced perimeter of the refinery site, things were just as busy. Dozens of workers, carefully recruited by Raven for their skills and discretion, moved with purpose around the compound.

  Dressed in standard refinery safety gear – hard hats, durable overalls, safety glasses – they managed the complex equipment, constantly checked gauges and readouts on control panels, performed routine maintenance, and ensured the smooth, continuous operation of the refining process.

  Trucks rumbled in and out through the main gate – some bringing necessary supplies, others carefully loading up with barrels of finished fuel destined for their first paying customers, including the large second order for Mr. Henderson's trucking company.

  Adam had spent almost every waking hour at the refinery site during these initial days of operation. He felt an intense need to be there, to oversee everything personally, even though he trusted Kim and Monica to manage things.

  He walked the grounds constantly, observing the extraction pumps (the copied pumpjack, now presumably joined by others he'd quietly 'pasted' as needed) steadily drawing the crude oil from the hidden reserve below. He watched the trucks being meticulously filled and weighed at the loading docks.

  He asked questions of the shift supervisors, double-checking production numbers, ensuring quality control measures were being followed. He felt the weight of responsibility for every barrel produced, every worker employed, every secret kept.

  Monica was often there with him, though her focus was different. While Adam walked the grounds, absorbing the physical reality of their operation, Monica spent countless hours inside the small, prefabricated office building they had quickly erected near the main gate.

  It wasn't fancy – just a functional metal box with basic desks, chairs, filing cabinets (all likely copied by Adam), and a humming network server connecting the few computers they had.

  But from this humble command center, Monica was the calm, organized heart of the operation.

  Piles of paperwork stacked neatly on her desk – delivery manifests, inventory lists, production logs, payroll records, supply invoices.

  She meticulously tracked every detail: the rate of crude oil extraction, the volume of refined fuel stored in the tanks, the shift schedules of the workers, the outgoing shipments.

  She managed the day-to-day administration, handled communications, solved logistical problems, and generally ensured the entire complex operation kept running smoothly, efficiently, and most importantly, discreetly.

  During this initial ramp-up period, Raven had also been incredibly busy. While the core refinery operations required specialized technicians (whom Raven had somehow managed to find and hire quickly, likely using his own mysterious network and methods), the growing business also needed administrative support.

  Raven had recruited a small, trusted team for the office – a couple of sharp assistants to help Monica with paperwork and scheduling, a basic bookkeeper to handle initial accounts payable and receivable, and someone to manage communications with trucking companies and suppliers.

  The entire Fire Corporation / Red Fire Refinery team was still tiny compared to the behemoth of Green Refinery, but every single person, from the top executives down to the newest refinery worker, seemed to understand they were part of something different, something potentially risky but also incredibly exciting.

  They worked with a remarkable intensity, a shared dedication that went beyond just earning a paycheck. Perhaps it was Adam's quiet but fierce determination, or Monica's calm competence, or Kim's experienced leadership, but a strong sense of purpose seemed to permeate the entire operation.

  Inside the main office building – the slightly larger, nicer one Adam had copied from Green Refinery's structure, now furnished with copied desks and chairs – Adam and his core team sat around a long oval conference table.

  Kim, Monica, Lisa, Lee, and Raven were all present. Digital dashboards, projected onto a large screen at one end of the room from one of Adam's copied computers, displayed live production stats, revenue charts tracking their first incoming payments, pipeline flow reports, and inventory levels. They had just concluded their first formal weekly strategy meeting.

  After an hour of intense discussion – reviewing production numbers, analyzing Lisa’s ongoing efforts to secure more contracts, discussing Lee’s progress on permits and legal compliance, addressing Raven’s staffing updates, and refining Monica’s operational budgets – the meeting concluded.

  Decisions were made, new tasks assigned. The team members gathered their papers and began to disperse, heading back to their respective duties with renewed focus.

  Lee needed to finalize the wording on the long-term contracts. Lisa had follow-up calls to make. Raven needed to vet more potential hires. Kim had operational issues to oversee at the refinery site.

  Soon, only Adam and Monica remained seated at the long conference table. The projected dashboards were turned off, leaving the room quieter, filled only with the low hum of the building's ventilation and the distant, muted sounds of the refinery operating outside.

  They both sipped silently from their cups of coffee, which had long since gone cold during the lengthy meeting.

  Monica broke the comfortable silence first, a subtle note of pride in her usually calm voice. She tapped a finger on a financial summary report lying in front of her.

  "Well, Adam," she said, looking across the table at him, "despite the initial low pricing strategy, the numbers are looking… surprisingly good. Our total revenue, booked and projected from these first few contracts including Henderson's large order, has now crossed the one hundred million dollar mark." She paused, letting the number sink in.

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  It wasn't profit, not yet, but it was significant income, validating their initial efforts. "That's quite an achievement, considering Red Fire Refinery only really started selling product a week or so ago."

  Adam leaned back in his chair, absorbing the news. One hundred million in revenue already booked. It felt good. It felt real. He allowed himself a small, genuine smile.

  "That is good news, Monica," he said calmly, though inside, a surge of satisfaction went through him. "Very good news. Thanks to Lisa's negotiations and your efficient operations." He kept his tone even, masking the deeper thrill he felt. The empire was starting to generate its own fuel, literally and financially.

  Without another word, masking the complex emotions swirling within him – relief, excitement, but also the constant underlying pressure and awareness of danger – Adam stood up from the table.

  The weight of responsibility, the knowledge of his secrets, the threat from his enemies, never truly left his shoulders, even in moments of victory like this.

  He needed to keep moving, keep planning. "I need to check on something outside," he said simply, heading towards the office door.

  Outside the administration building, the sunlight felt strong, reflecting brightly off the metal surfaces of the refinery structures.

  Adam walked towards the main gate, needing a moment of fresh air, needing to think about the next, far more dangerous phase of his larger plan – the part that went beyond just building a successful business.

  Kim was waiting for him near the gate, having finished a quick operational check with one of the shift supervisors.

  As Adam approached, Kim, who had been leaning against a support pillar, straightened up. He crossed his arms, looking at Adam with a slightly exasperated but also curious expression.

  "Okay, Adam," Kim began, his tone holding mild irritation mixed with respect, "you run off after hearing the good news. Why did you tell me specifically to wait for you out here like I'm some kind of chauffeur waiting for his boss, instead of just talking inside?" Kim clearly valued his CEO title and didn't appreciate being treated like an errand boy, even jokingly.

  Adam chuckled lightly, understanding Kim's slight pique. "Sorry, Kim," he said smoothly. "Didn't mean it like that. I just… I needed to ask you something privately. Away from the others for a moment."

  Kim's demeanor changed immediately. The slight irritation vanished, replaced by focused attention. He knew Adam didn't engage in idle chatter; if Adam wanted privacy, it was likely important, maybe even sensitive. "Okay," Kim said, his voice serious now. "You know you can ask me anything, Adam. What is it?"

  Adam stopped walking, turning to face Kim directly. He let his smile fade, his expression becoming serious, intense. The question he was about to ask felt heavy, dangerous. "Kim," Adam began, his voice low and steady, "I need some information. Political information."

  Kim’s eyes narrowed instantly. Politics? He hadn't expected that. A flicker of suspicion, maybe even alarm, crossed his face. He gave Adam a long, hard, searching look.

  "Politics?" Kim repeated slowly, cautiously. "Adam, what are you planning? What are you trying to do?" He sounded wary, concerned. Dabbling in politics, especially in Fieland, especially against powerful figures, was a dangerous game, far more dangerous than just competing in the oil market.

  Adam remained silent for a few tense seconds, meeting Kim’s suspicious gaze evenly. He considered hedging, being vague, but decided directness was better with Kim. He let out a slow breath.

  "It’s about Mayor Walker," Adam stated quietly, confirming Kim's likely suspicion. "I need to know… can you tell me… who is standing against Mr. Walker in the upcoming mayoral election? Who is his main opponent?"

  The wind seemed to pick up slightly, swirling dust around their feet as Kim digested Adam’s dangerous question. The implications were immediately clear. Adam wasn’t just asking out of idle curiosity.

  Asking about Mayor Walker’s opponent meant Adam was considering getting involved, interfering in the election. And interfering with someone as powerful and ruthless as Mayor Walker… that was playing with fire. Real fire.

  Adam wasn’t speaking lightly. He wasn’t impulsive. He had thought about this carefully. In his mind, fragmented memories or perhaps clear visions of the future he had somehow returned from played out.

  He saw the original timeline: Mayor Walker winning the election again, but just barely. A victory secured by only a few hundred votes. A victory that solidified his corrupt hold on the city, strengthened his power, and likely sealed Adam’s original fate – hunted, cornered, eventually killed by John under his father's protection.

  That future, the one filled with continued corruption, unchecked power for his enemies, and his own ultimate demise, was something Adam desperately wanted to change. He had to change it.

  Now, back in this past, armed with knowledge and his unique power, he saw a chance. "If Walker only won by a few hundred votes last time," Adam thought, his mind calculating rapidly,

  "it means the election was close. It means he was vulnerable. If I can just… influence things slightly… swing a few more votes, maybe a thousand, maybe even just five hundred, towards Walker’s opponent… I could change the outcome. I could shift the future."

  A future where Walker lost the election would be drastically different. It would weaken his power base, potentially expose his corruption, maybe even remove the protective shield around John.

  "It could create opportunities for us," Adam concluded silently. “Opportunities Fire Corporation desperately needs to survive and grow without being crushed immediately."

  Kim remained silent for a long time, deep in thought, clearly understanding the immense risks involved. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and grave. "Adam…" he began slowly, choosing his words carefully,

  "…this is incredibly dangerous territory you're considering. Trying to influence a mayoral election against someone like Walker? That’s not just business; that’s playing politics at the highest, dirtiest level."

  He met Adam’s determined gaze. "This decision… it could go sideways spectacularly. Yes, if Mr. Walker somehow loses the election, maybe it weakens him, maybe it creates openings for us, maybe it distracts him from noticing a new little oil company starting up." Kim paused, his expression grim.

  "But what if he still wins? Even if it's close again? Especially if he wins after we've somehow supported his opponent, even indirectly, even secretly? He will find out. People like Walker have ways of knowing things. He will notice us then. And any anonymity we have, any hope of keeping your identity as the founder hidden, will be gone instantly. He'll come after Fire Corporation, after you, with everything he has. And we are nowhere near ready for that kind of fight." Kim's warning was stark, realistic. Interfering could backfire horribly, potentially accelerating their doom instead of preventing it.

  Adam stood still, listening patiently to Kim's valid concerns. He watched the clouds drift lazily across the vast blue sky overhead, a stark contrast to the dangerous currents swirling around them on the ground.

  He understood the risks Kim outlined. But he also believed the risk of not acting, of letting Walker win again, was even greater in the long run. He turned back to Kim, his expression calm, resolute.

  "Kim," Adam replied quietly, "when did I say we would support his opponent directly?"

  Kim blinked, confused. "What? What do you mean? If we're not supporting the opponent directly, then how…? Our company is too new, too small. We don't have the manpower or influence to run some kind of secret public campaign against Walker. The only support we could possibly offer is financial – anonymous donations maybe? And even that is risky and might not be enough." Kim looked completely perplexed. What other option was there?

  Kim was now thoroughly confused. Their company, Fire Corporation, barely existed beyond some paperwork and a handful of employees.

  They had no public presence, no network of supporters, no ability to openly campaign or influence voters. Trying to directly help Walker's opponent seemed impossible, suicidal even.

  Financial support was the only plausible option, but even that was incredibly risky and might not be enough to sway a close election. What on earth was Adam thinking?

  Before Kim’s thoughts could spiral further into worried confusion, Adam broke the silence again, a clever, almost mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

  "Direct support is too risky, you're right," Adam conceded. "It traces back to us too easily. But what if," – he paused, letting the idea land – "what if we create a completely separate entity? A front? A… shell company?"

  Kim stared at him, the concept slowly dawning. A shell company? A fake business with no real operations, designed solely for a specific, hidden purpose?

  Adam continued, laying out the plan. "We set up a new company, completely unrelated to Fire Corporation on paper. Different name, different address, maybe even registered in a different city using Lee’s expertise to obscure ownership. This 'ghost company' will then publicly, loudly, start supporting Mr. Walker’s opponent." Adam’s smirk widened.

  "It can make large, visible donations. It can run negative ad campaigns highlighting Walker's failures or corruption – using information we might discreetly provide it. It can mobilize volunteers, organize rallies. It creates the appearance of strong, well-funded opposition."

  He looked at Kim, his eyes sharp. "To the outside world, including Mayor Walker, it will look like a legitimate new player entering the political arena, maybe funded by rivals he doesn't know about. Fire Corporation, Red Fire Refinery, Adam, Kim, Monica… none of us are directly connected. We remain hidden in the shadows, operating our real business, while this shell company does the dirty work of chipping away at Walker's support."

  Kim’s eyes widened in shock, then slowly narrowed in dawning understanding, maybe even reluctant admiration. A shell company… a political cutout… It was sneaky. It was complicated. It was potentially illegal if not done perfectly. But it was also… brilliant. A way to exert influence without direct exposure.

  Before Kim could fully process the audacity of the plan or voice his likely numerous concerns about its legality and feasibility, a burst of sudden laughter echoed behind them. Both Adam and Kim turned, startled.

  Stepping out from behind a large parked truck nearby, where he had apparently been standing and listening unnoticed, was Lee, the young lawyer. He was still chuckling, shaking his head, a wide grin splitting his face.

  "Adam," Lee said, still laughing as he walked towards them, "I swear, working with you is going to be anything but boring!" He finally managed to stifle his laughter, though his eyes still danced with amusement and maybe a little bit of lawyerly thrill at the sheer deviousness of the plan.

  "A shell company for political interference? Wow. That's… honestly brilliant. Risky as hell, legally complex, but strategically… brilliant."

  Lee’s expression then turned more serious, his legal mind kicking in. "But," he cautioned, echoing Kim’s earlier pragmatism, "before we even think about setting up ghost companies or funding attack ads, we need intelligence. We can't just throw support, even secretly, behind Walker's opponent without knowing who they are, what they stand for, what their chances really are, and importantly, whether supporting them might inadvertently create new problems for us down the line. We need a full profile."

  Adam turned his head towards Lee, smiling, appreciating the lawyer's quick grasp of the plan and his immediate focus on the necessary groundwork.

  "You're absolutely right, Lee," Adam agreed readily. "We need information first. Thorough information." He then looked back and forth between Kim and Lee, his expression becoming serious, delegating the crucial next task. "Which is why," Adam declared, "I'm giving this intelligence gathering job to both of you."

  Both Kim and Lee looked slightly startled, surprised by the unexpected joint assignment. They glanced at each other, then back at Adam, waiting for clarification.

  "What exactly do you want us to find out, Adam?" Kim asked, already shifting into execution mode, ready for specifics.

  Adam’s smile deepened again, a glint of cold strategy entering his eyes. He looked towards the distant city skyline, towards the seat of power held by his enemy.

  "Everything," Adam replied simply, his voice quiet but carrying absolute weight. "I want to know everything there is to know about Mayor Walker's main opponent. Their background, their political platform, their funding sources, their campaign team, their strengths, their weaknesses, their dirty laundry, their realistic chances of winning. Everything. Dig deep. Be thorough. Be discreet." He turned back, meeting their eyes. "Our next move depends entirely on what you uncover."

  The assignment was clear. The stakes were enormous. The 'behind the curtains' political game was about to begin.