Chapter 140: Happiness Arrived Too Suddenly (Part Two)

Young, far too young.

This businessman gave him an indescribably bizarre feeling.

Initially, Howard had assumed the man would be some down-on-his-luck wretch from across the Atlantic, either a displaced European aristocrat or some provincial entrepreneur. Yet, the man spoke with a standard, impeccable New York accent that left him utterly dumbfounded.

As a native son, Howard could say with absolute certainty that in this very patch of soil called New York, there was not a single magnate by the name of May Strange!

Looking at the man's immaculate fingernails, his tailored suit that clearly bore the craftsmanship of a master British tailor, and his thoroughly well-educated demeanor, Howard was slightly bewildered.

"Mr. Strange, please forgive my lack of insight, but I truly cannot tell where you are from," Howard said with a wry smile.

"For the sake of the cooperation we are about to forge, I hope I may call you Howard, and I would prefer it if you called me May!" Mei Strange flashed a brilliant smile.

"Very well, May! Then perhaps you can clear up my confusion?"

"Me? I was born and raised right here in Manhattan."

Howard’s eyes lit up.

Regional snobbery was hardly an exclusive specialty of the East. As the largest city in America, New Yorkers held a natural sense of pride toward people from any other part of the country.

Even among New Yorkers, harmony was far from guaranteed. For instance, people from Manhattan routinely looked down on those from neighboring Brooklyn.

And for good reason—historically, Brooklyn was an enclave inhabited largely by Black people and Mexicans, with only a small minority of white people. It was a slum and a notorious haven for criminals.

Manhattan, by comparison, was vastly more sophisticated and upscale.

Howard felt an inexplicable sense of kinship, and it was not without reason.

"Oh, how extraordinary. Given how exceptional you are, sir, logically I ought to have heard your name before?"

"Because I left for Europe when I was very young. In fact, I have brought a vast sum of money with me this time. Rest assured, this money is entirely clean; not a single penny carries even the faintest scent of blood. To prove my support for the American stance, I have just purchased a substantial amount of United States war bonds."

Mei Strange smiled, gesturing to the thick stack of bonds resting inside his briefcase. The face value totaled at least one hundred thousand dollars.

During World War II, identification was a joke. Passports across nations were not standardized, nor did every passport even feature a photograph. If identification had truly been that stringent, Steve Rogers could never have used five different fake identities to enlist in the army.

In truth, as long as anyone could purchase a specified quota of US war bonds, any American mayor would gladly issue them an identity document that was practically a certificate of good citizenship.

A bond quota of one hundred thousand was more than enough to run for state legislator.

A sudden thought struck Howard: "Wait, you don't mean..."

Mei Strange said casually, "Don't be ridiculous, I've just deposited ten tons of gold in Chase's vault."

Howard’s breathing instantly hitched.

A patron! A mega-patron!

Over ten million in capital—this was practically an astronomical figure. One had to remember that a Thompson submachine gun cost a mere seventy dollars to manufacture, an exceptional machinist earned less than fifty dollars a month, and a monthly income of twenty to thirty dollars was completely ordinary for the average person.

Besides, Chase National Bank was the bedrock of the Morgan consortium. Established in 1799, it was one of the oldest banks in America.

Since the stronghold of the Morgan consortium happened to be right here in New York, Howard had no choice but to believe it now.

"Thank you for your candor, Mr. Strange. My secretary mentioned that you wish to invest in my Stark Industries?" Howard emphasized the word "my."

He needed money, but that did not mean he was willing to sell off his life's work.

Trading the majority of his shares for cash only to end up working for someone else was entirely unacceptable to Howard.

He would never work for anyone!

Not for his entire life!

This was the sole bottom line of Howard Stark, master inventor and the greatest mechanical engineer of the mid-twentieth century Marvel Universe.

Mei Strange smiled faintly, "I want a twenty-five percent stake in Stark Industries, and I will not accept any dilution of my shares..."

Before the sentence was even finished, Howard instinctively wanted to refuse. He was not some pure researcher completely ignorant of the stock market, the kind of person who would let himself be sold down the river while happily counting the money for the buyer. Aside from possessing an astonishing intellect, he was also a rare breed of entrepreneur.

At this point in time, Stark Industries was a company wholly owned by Howard himself—a private enterprise in the absolute sense of the word.

Surrendering twenty-five percent meant that Mei Strange would become the second-largest shareholder of Stark Industries. That might sound harmless enough, but Howard harbored ambitions of taking the company public.

Only by going public could he raise the maximum amount of capital. With absolute and abundant capital, he would have the leisure to pursue his inventions.

If Mei Strange bought his shares but refused dilution, it meant that once the company went public, Howard would be forced to dump a considerable portion of his own shares onto the market in order to raise capital.

Should that happen, a slight misstep could allow the other party to accumulate sufficient equity from the open market, thereby securing absolute control and casting him out of the very Stark Industries he had built with his own hands.

That would be fatal to Howard.

Just as he was about to erupt, Mei Strange raised his right hand, halting any words of opposition.

"Don't rush to refuse just yet! I do not want controlling interest. I am willing to draft an authorization agreement for the maximum duration permitted by the Securities and Exchange Commission, handing the voting rights over to you—Howard Stark, and your designated heirs, such as your descendants, for a total term of sixty years. I only want the stock dividends. Of course, in the event of multiple rounds of financing or stock allocations, even if I am not physically present, I will use the funds I have deposited in the bank to automatically authorize professional managers to handle the purchases on my behalf."

"Hah!" Howard’s heart gave a violent, traitorous thud. "Mr. Strange, you... you... you really trust me just like that?"

Mei Strange smiled and tapped his own temple. "Heh! My investment isn't for you to squander recklessly. It is restricted solely to your research and development in the field of mechanical engineering; I will not grant authorization for any other fields. After all, you haven't proven yourself in those yet."

Howard probed cautiously, "Mr. Strange, you must know that during the process of mechanical engineering research, losses caused by accidents and experimental failures..."

Mei Strange shrugged. "Thomas Alva Edison failed over eight thousand times when inventing the lightbulb. But I firmly believe you are no worse than Edison. Therefore, I have also prepared an authorization for an additional ten tons of gold. Should Stark Industries ever fall into financial distress, you may borrow from me in your personal capacity at a mere ten percent annual interest."

What defines the perfect partner for an inventor?

This was it!

No pointless arguments! No blind micromanagement! Aside from providing funds, they interfered with nothing at all.

And the sixty-year voting rights authorization... how many sixty years does a person get in a lifetime? This was essentially a lifetime guarantee!

For a moment, Howard was moved to tears of gratitude!

Happiness had arrived so abruptly that Howard actually found himself feeling a bit unconfident.