While the whole city of Dodge buzzed about Promotion Wars, Vince was lost in his own world, thinking about something entirely different.
Billboards promoting the event were popping up all over town. Television ads seemed to play every few hours. Posters plastered bus stops and shop windows. In bars and restaurants, wrestling fans passionately debated which promotion would come out on top.
For most folks involved with IRW, Promotion Wars was the highlight of their lives.
But for Vince? Not today.
Today, he found himself in Carl Holler's garage. Though calling it a garage was starting to feel like a stretch.
In recent months, it had gradually morphed into a workshop.
Tools lined the walls, taking up every inch of space, half-finished electronic parts cluttered every table. Wires sprawled across the floor like a chaotic web, computer components were scattered everywhere.
Carl and his small crew of friends looked worn out.
The kind of tiredness that comes from pouring your heart and soul into a project for months on end.
Yet, despite their fatigue, the air was thick with excitement.
Because today, they finally had something to unveil.
Carl gently lifted the device from the workbench.
Vince leaned in, his curiosity piqued. Gavin did the same.
The prototype wasn't exactly a sight to behold.
Not by a long shot.
Compared to the sleek smartphones Vince remembered from his past, this thing looked rough and unfinished.
The casing was bulky and awkward. The screen didn't respond as quickly as it should. The battery life was still a work in progress. And the operating software? Well, it was pretty basic.
But none of that mattered to Vince.
He could see beyond the flaws. He could see the potential.
To Vince, this was the first step toward changing the world.
Vince took it in his hands, examining it closely, then he pressed against the screen.
The display responded, albeit slowly.
A grin broke out on Vince's face. "It works."
Carl let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, "It does."
Vince spent several minutes testing every feature he could find.
With each successful interaction, his excitement grew. The prototype wasn't quite what he remembered from his previous life.
It wasn't an iPhone.
At least, not yet.
But if they kept developing it at this rate, Vince could already picture what future versions might look like.
Version two. Version three. Version ten.
The foundation was there.
When Vince finally handed the prototype back, Gavin was already gazing at it like a man who had struck gold.
"I don't understand half of what this thing does," Gavin admitted, "But this is incredible."
The praise visibly impacted Carl. The four friends who had helped him looked equally amazed.
For months, they had toiled in obscurity. Most people had brushed them off.
Others had laughed at their efforts.
Now, two wealthy investors were standing in their workshop, treating their invention like it was something groundbreaking.
It was hard not to feel a swell of pride.
Carl glanced down at the prototype in his hands, then back at Vince.
"You really think this can succeed?"
Vince chuckled, "Succeed?"
He pointed at the phone, "Carl, this thing is going to change the world."
The young inventor looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or faint.
Gavin was equally impressed.
After another demonstration, Vince finally got down to business.
"Carl."
The inventor straightened up immediately.
"Yes?"
"It's time to stop building prototypes."
Carl blinked.
Gavin turned to face him.
Vince pressed on, "We need a production line."
Carl just stared, taken aback.
"We need mass manufacturing."
The room fell silent.
"We need employees."
The young inventor looked completely overwhelmed.
For the past two months, his main worry had been getting the prototype to work right.
Now, Vince was throwing around ideas about mass production.
The sheer scale of it all felt utterly ridiculous.
Vince shifted his gaze to Gavin. "I want Maston Holdings to help set this up. Use connections from Dongle if you have to. Heck, let's integrate Dongle into the product as the search engine."
Gavin nodded right away; that part was already clear in his mind.
Vince then turned back to Carl, "You'll stay in charge of development."
Carl visibly relaxed.
Technology was his forte; running a company? Not so much.
Vince caught the look of relief and smiled. "You just focus on making the product better."
Then he gestured toward Gavin. "He'll ensure that people can actually buy it."
Finally, he pointed to himself, "I'll make sure everyone wants to buy it."
That got a good laugh from everyone in the room.
Carl shook Vince's hand, "Thank you."
----
Just two days later, Vince Maston, Lance Dawson, and Mark Rivera made their way to ACW's Golden Arena.
The place felt eerily quiet compared to its usual buzz. There were no fans waiting outside, no wrestlers hauling gear, and no production crew darting around. Today wasn't about putting on a spectacle.
Today was all about shaping the future of two wrestling promotions.
Or maybe just one.
Inside one of the conference rooms, Yoichi was already there, waiting.
The NPJW owner lounged at the table, his assistant standing dutifully behind him. Despite the chaos of the past few weeks, he still exuded that same smug confidence that had rubbed Vince the wrong way from the very start.
This was the first time the two promotion heads were meeting face-to-face.
Yoichi wasted no time sizing Vince up.
He looked a bit let down.
This was the guy who had given him so many headaches? The one who had embarrassed NPJW on live TV? The man behind the Promotion Wars that had everyone in Dodge buzzing?
Vince looked younger than Yoichi had anticipated.
Much younger.
If they had crossed paths on the street, Yoichi might have thought he was just an intern, albeit an handsome one.
Vince didn't acknowledge the scrutiny.
Instead, he took a seat and casually set a folder down on the table.
Lance and Mark settled in beside him.
Across the table, Yoichi's assistant was busy organizing a few documents before laying them out neatly.
The tension in the room was palpable right from the start.
But they weren't alone.
With the Promotion Wars event set to unfold in ACW's Golden Arena and broadcast nationally on Vox, a neutral party had been brought in to oversee the negotiations.
Representing ACW were Zach Sachman, James Wilson, Flora, and a few legal advisors.
Zach took his place at the head of the table.
Unlike Yoichi, he wasn't one to stir the pot.
His main focus was straightforward.
Profit.
The upcoming event was already creating a huge buzz in Dodge. Posters plastered the streets, and billboards were touting the showdown. Sports bars were buzzing with discussions about potential matchups every night.
If the event went well, ACW's arena would see a significant boost.
Naturally, Zach wanted his cut.
James Wilson sat quietly next to him. Flora seemed even less engaged in the negotiations.
Her curiosity was mostly directed at Vince.
The young promoter had become quite the sensation lately. Every few weeks, he rolled out another quirky idea that somehow hit the mark.
Flora wasn't fully sold on many of those concepts, but she couldn't deny the results.
Meanwhile, Yoichi was on a roll, talking non-stop.
He kept boasting about NPJW's rich history, about their traditions, their dedicated fanbase, how Promotion Wars favored seasoned wrestlers over flashy entertainers.
Each claim felt more unnecessary than the last.
At one point, Flora visibly rubbed her forehead in exasperation.
Everyone in the room was acutely aware of the current landscape.
IRW had the upper hand.
IRW had the ratings.
IRW had the wrestling world's attention.
So, Yoichi's confidence felt increasingly out of place.
James eventually gave up trying to make sense of it. Instead, he concentrated on keeping the meeting on track.
Vince, on the other hand, simply brushed him off, which frustrated Yoichi.
Nothing irked arrogant people more than being treated as if they didn't matter.
After nearly twenty minutes of back-and-forth, Lance finally decided it was time to get down to business.
"We should establish the rules."
The atmosphere in the room shifted to a more serious tone. This was the very reason they had all gathered.
Yoichi leaned in, eager, "So, let's hear them."
--
AN: What should be the brand of the new phone? I don't want to use Iphone