C3 - Cain Lee

I barely glanced at my screen, my focus still fixed on my tablet. The young man displayed there exuded an air of youthful confidence, his stylishly tousled black hair framing delicate yet striking features. His nose was prominent, his thick brows adding depth to his vibrant dark brown eyes, which always carried a mischievous glint. His lips, full and slightly pouty, seemed perpetually curved into an infuriatingly knowing smile.

Cain Lee.

A prodigy in technology and hacking.

Our paths had crossed three years ago under… unconventional circumstances. Imagine his bewilderment when a virtual stranger suddenly offered to fund his software development venture. Naturally, he recoiled—as if I carried the plague. But with persistence, a hint of intimidation, and just the right amount of coercion, I secured his cooperation.

How I found him, and more importantly, his project? That's a secret I intend to keep.

The arrangement benefited us both—I financed his latest endeavors, and in return, he ensured my data and accounts remained untouchable. In an era where information was currency, safeguarding my assets from prying eyes was non-negotiable.

Three years had passed. Our conversations were rare and strictly business, limited to his updates or whenever he needed funding.

"Lei, it's been a while. Are you well?"

His voice still held traces of youth, despite his expertise.

"Hmm." I responded without looking up.

"..."

His silence was uncharacteristic. Given his usual propensity for chatter, he was likely waiting for a proper greeting.

"How are you?" I finally indulged him.

Rather than answering, he cut straight to the point.

"I'm working on another software project."

"How much?" I asked, fingers momentarily stilling on my tablet.

"Ten million."

That made me pause, if only briefly.

"I want 15%."

"5% and two years of free service."

I nearly scoffed. Ridiculous. As if I would settle for that.

"10% and four years of free service. Take it or leave it."

Cain's eyes narrowed. His expression shifted, as if he were assessing whether I was joking. I wasn't.

"You're as eccentric as they come!" he nearly shouted. "I do all the work!"

"Watch your language, young man. Ten million isn't trivial either." My voice remained calm, bored even.

"..."

His dark eyes shimmered, dangerously close to tears. His face contorted—an unmistakable prelude to whining. He should know by now that wouldn't work on me.

"Send the voice recording to Adisa. Once the contract is signed, Rea will transfer the funds." I instructed, my focus already drifting back to my drawing.

"And why should I believe you'll get my consent?" Cain scoffed, an amused snort following his words.

He really needed to learn some respect for his elders.

"Nobody else would be foolish enough to lend a child like you ten million dollars, let alone consider it." My response was flat, factual.

And true.

No sane investor would hand an underaged software developer millions on a whim. And yet, here we were. Because I had my reasons.

"..."

Predictable.

Cain exhaled in defeat. "I'll email Adisa."

The screen blinked off without a proper farewell. Petulant.

A voice—one I had almost forgotten—broke the silence.

"You seem rather pleased."