East London, Shoreditch, 2010. This area had not yet become the glittering hub of hipsters and tech giants it would be in the future. Here, amidst derelict red-brick warehouses and the scent of machine oil, the future was being forged in the most unexpected places.
Arthur walked along the cracked pavement, followed by Hugo, whose formidable presence caused street thugs to step aside instinctively. Arthur stopped in front of an old iron door covered in graffiti. Beside the door hung a small sign: "Reed Systems – Press Bell 3 Times."
Arthur gave a bitter smile. He remembered this place. In his previous life, he had come here only to extort Julian, forcing him to sell his algorithm patents for a pittance when Julian was at his lowest point.
"Stay outside, Hugo. Monitor the situation," Arthur instructed.
"Understood, sir," Hugo replied curtly, his position immediately locking down the area around the entrance.
Arthur pressed the bell three times. Soon after, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed, followed by the clatter of a deadbolt being thrown back. A thin young man appeared, wearing thick glasses held together by scotch tape, messy hair, and a T-shirt featuring Star Wars characters.
This was Julian Reed. The genius who would one day be known as the "Architect of the European Cloud," but right now, he looked like a malnourished youth suffering from a caffeine overdose.
"Who are you? If you're from the server debt collectors, I told you I need two more weeks!" Julian cried out in a panic, trying to slam the door.
Arthur caught the door with his palm. "I'm not a debt collector, Julian. I'm Arthur Valeska. I've come to offer you the future."
Julian frowned, bewildered. "The future? I can't even afford pizza for lunch. Get in, before the London wind overheats my servers."
The interior of the garage was organized chaos. LAN cables dangled from the ceiling like tree roots. Dozens of custom-built computers hummed loudly on iron racks, emitting a heat that made the room feel like a sauna.
"You're working on a Distributed Computing protocol, aren't you?" Arthur asked casually as he walked around the stacks of hardware.
Julian froze. He dropped the screwdriver he was holding. "How did you... no one knows what I'm working on. Even the venture capitalists in the City kicked me out yesterday, calling the idea 'too abstract'."
"They're fools, Julian. They think the future is massive hardware. They don't realize that in five years, all the world's data will be stored in 'the cloud.' And your algorithm is the key to making that cloud secure and fast," Arthur turned, looking at Julian with a conviction that made the young man shiver.
"I need 50,000 pounds just to keep these servers running and to file the patents," Julian lamented, his shoulders sagging. "The banks laughed at me."
"I'll give you 100,000 pounds today," Arthur stated calmly.
Julian gave a hollow laugh. "Are you joking? Look at your clothes. You don't look like someone with 100,000 pounds in his jeans pocket."
Arthur didn't say much. He opened his borrowed laptop, logged into his international brokerage account, and showed the balance screen to Julian. There, a figure was steadily climbing, fueled by the copper and silver speculations he had executed since dawn.
"This is just the beginning," Arthur said. "I don't want to buy your idea, Julian. I want to partner with you. You remain your own CEO; I am your financier and strategic guide. We will build Valeska-Reed Cloud. 60% for me, 40% for you. And you will have access to private security and the best facilities starting today."
Julian swallowed hard. He saw the gravity in Arthur's eyes—something entirely different from the capitalists who only wanted to suck his ideas dry.
"Why are you helping me this much?" Julian asked suspiciously.
"Because in the past... I made a grave mistake with a friend," Arthur said softly, his voice heavy with genuine regret. "This time, I want us to succeed together. Without anyone being sacrificed."
Julian went silent for a moment, staring at his row of dying servers. He reached out a trembling hand. "Alright, Arthur. Let's make them regret ever laughing at us."
After leaving Julian's garage with a written agreement on a greasy scrap of leftover food wrapper, Arthur stepped out to find Hugo standing tense. Facing Hugo were three men in black leather jackets, their faces rugged and threatening.
One of them held a phone, recording the encounter.
"Arthur Valeska," the man in the middle said, his voice raspy. "Mr. Thorne misses you. He says your interest has tripled because you can afford such a pricey new assistant."
Arthur stepped forward, standing beside Hugo. The fear he once felt when facing Victor Thorne's men had vanished, replaced by a controlled rage.
"Tell Victor," Arthur's voice was low and ice-cold, "his money will reach him on time. But tell him this, too... never send his dogs near my home or my office again. Because if that happens, I won't just pay the debt. I will buy his entire life and dismantle it."
The man laughed mockingly. "Big talk now, eh? Let's see if you're still talking big when this building burns down."
As the man moved forward to provoke them, Hugo moved like lightning. He didn't strike; he simply seized the man's wrist and twisted it slightly. The sound of shifting bone was sickening.
"My employer said leave," Hugo growled in a bass voice that vibrated through the air.
The three men recoiled, their faces paling at Hugo's sheer physical power. They scrambled into their car and sped away from Shoreditch.
"Are you alright, Hugo?" Arthur asked.
"Just a warm-up, sir. But they'll be back in greater numbers," Hugo warned.
"Let them. By the time they return, I won't be the Arthur they know," Arthur looked at the darkening sky. "Let's go home. Elena is waiting."
In the apartment, the atmosphere had changed. Elena had tidied the room, and the delicious aroma of beef stew filled the air. Little Leo was playing with the new toy cars Arthur had bought.
As Arthur entered, Elena didn't immediately pull away. She stood there, looking at her husband with an unreadable expression.
"Arthur, a letter arrived," Elena handed him a luxurious cream-colored envelope with a wax seal. "It's from the residence of Lady Beatrice. How is it possible for a top-tier socialite to send a dinner invitation to us?"
Arthur took the envelope. He smiled. The wheels are turning faster than I expected, he thought.
"She's not just a socialite, Elena. She is the gatekeeper of the London banking network. And she is our next step out of this poverty."
Elena stared at her husband, feeling as though the man before her was a brilliant stranger who just happened to wear her husband's face. "I'm scared, Arthur. The higher you fly, the harder you fall."
Arthur pulled Elena into an embrace, and this time, she didn't resist. "I won't fall, darling. Because this time, I'm not flying alone. I'm carrying you and Leo on my back."
In the distance, the bells of Big Ben chimed, signaling the start of a new chapter in the London power struggle.