Chapter 15: Preparations for the Storm
After Ansh closed the book, he went into deep thought.
Before, he didn't know much in detail about anything.
But after reading it—
he almost knew what was going to happen.
Now, he could plan much further ahead.
More precisely.
More thoroughly.
Many things had already started forming in his mind.
But for those plans to work—
he needed money.
A lot of money.
The first option that came to his mind was simple.
Sell the shares.
Not just his own—
but also the old man's.
That alone could bring in a massive amount.
But even then…
he knew it wouldn't be enough.
Not for what he had in mind.
Without wasting time, he called the old man, who was standing just outside the door.
The old man entered calmly.
Ansh looked at him and spoke directly,
"I want to start preparations."
The old man remained silent, listening.
"A large amount of food… and weapons."
He paused.
"Assault weapons. Rocket launchers. Everything."
"And I need them in bulk."
Ansh continued,
"For that, I need money. A lot of it."
He leaned forward slightly.
"How much would we get if we sold all our company shares? Mine… and yours."
The old man thought for a moment before replying,
"At most… 300 million gold."
He paused briefly before adding,
"If we auction them instead of selling directly, we might be able to increase the value further."
300 million.
It sounded like a huge amount.
But to Ansh—
it wasn't enough.
Not even close.
If this had been his previous life on Earth, things would have been much simpler.
He could have robbed a bank or two.
Quick.
Efficient.
Done.
But here—
that was impossible.
Every transaction in this world was handled through an online system.
All wealth—
controlled by the central banking authority.
Even if someone managed to steal gold…
it wouldn't matter.
The moment it was flagged—
its value would be reduced to nothing.
Completely useless.
Which meant—
illegal methods were not an option.
Ansh frowned slightly.
He couldn't think of any other fast way to make money.
So, he looked at the old man.
"Any suggestions?"
The old man was silent for a moment.
Truthfully—
he was confused.
Why did the young master need so much money?
Even if they prepared for 50 to 60 people—
food, weapons, supplies—
it wouldn't cost more than 10 million gold.
Even 300 million was excessive.
Yet—
the young master still said it wasn't enough.
But the old man didn't question him.
He trusted him.
There had to be a reason.
After thinking for a while, he finally spoke,
"I currently have around 50 million gold in liquid funds."
Ansh looked at him.
The old man continued,
"I accumulated it over many years. For emergencies… and to maintain the network I built."
He paused.
"And to support those 50 members."
The old man continued,
"As for making quick money… there is one efficient method."
He looked directly at Ansh.
"Betting."
Ansh raised an eyebrow.
The old man continued calmly,
"You've already signed a deal for a fight."
"This will not be an ordinary match."
He leaned slightly forward.
"Current world champion… versus the former undefeated champion."
"The scale of this event will be massive."
"Which means—"
"The betting market will explode."
Ansh remained silent, listening carefully.
"And since," the old man added calmly, "you have no chance of losing…"
A faint pause.
"…we can bet everything on you."
That sentence carried absolute confidence.
Not even a hint of doubt.
"With the right placements," the old man continued, "we can multiply our wealth several times."
"Hundreds of millions… possibly more."
Ansh's eyes sharpened.
Now that—
was useful.
But the old man wasn't done yet.
"If that's still not enough…"
He paused briefly.
"…we can use the network."
Ansh looked at him again.
"To sell information."
"Strategic information."
"For a very high price."
The room fell silent for a moment.
That was a dangerous path.
But also—
a very profitable one.
Ansh leaned back, thinking.
Betting.
Information trade.
Liquid funds.
Company shares.
All combined…
it might just be enough.
After a few seconds, he nodded.
"Alright."
"I agree."
The old man remained calm.
But Ansh's expression turned slightly serious.
"But make sure of one thing."
The old man looked at him.
"We only sell information that won't lead back to us."
"No traces."
"No suspicion."
"No risks."
His voice turned cold.
"I don't want anyone digging into us."
The old man nodded without hesitation.
"It will be handled."
Ansh spoke again.
"Also… there's something else."
The old man looked at him attentively.
"I want you to find people."
"What kind of people?" the old man asked.
"The best," Ansh replied without hesitation.
"Doctors."
"Medics."
"Engineers."
"Scientists."
He paused briefly before continuing,
"And cooks."
The old man blinked once.
But Ansh wasn't finished.
"And those who still make weapons."
"Swords."
"Shields."
"Traditional craftsmen."
Now—
for the first time—
the old man felt confused.
Doctors and engineers—
he could understand.
Even scientists.
But cooks?
And blacksmiths who made swords and shields?
In a world dominated by modern weapons—
those professions held little value in large-scale strategy.
At least—
on the surface.
But the old man didn't question him.
He had already learned—
that when Ansh made such decisions…
there was always a reason behind them.
Even if it wasn't immediately visible.
So he simply nodded.
"It will be done."
Ansh gave a small nod in return.
"Good."
Silence filled the room again.
But this time—
it felt different.
Heavier.
More dangerous.
Because now—
the plan had begun.
And once it started—
there would be no turning back.
Ansh slowly stood up and walked toward the window.
Outside, the city lights shone brightly.
Calm.
Peaceful.
Unaware.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Let's see…"
he murmured softly.
"…how long this peace lasts."
After that—
Ansh went to sleep.
Today had been too much.
He was exhausted.
And there were still many things he needed to prepare for.
For now—
he needed rest.