After the summit, Zane intercepted the three young Israelis whose conversation had electrified him. Their names were Yair Goldfinger, Arik Vardi, and Sefi Vigiser. He invited them to a nearby coffee shop, and over espresso, they eagerly explained their vision.
They were recent veterans of the Israeli military, and their idea for ICQ was born from a simple frustration: email was slow, and important messages were constantly getting buried. They envisioned a piece of software that would allow for faster, more direct, real-time communication. It would be the world's first major instant messaging service.
"And what's the current development progress?" Zane asked, cutting to the chase.
The three founders exchanged a look. It was Vigiser, the clear leader of the group, who answered. "Mr. Blackwood, we'll be honest. We've only completed the preliminary conceptual work. We planned to begin the actual R&D when we returned to Israel."
Zane hid his smile. He had found them at the perfect moment: the idea stage. He knew from his past life that Sefi Vigiser was no idle dreamer; he was a future billionaire, a brilliant operator who would go on to invest in dozens of successful companies.
"Gentlemen," Zane said, his tone decisive. "I'm willing to fund your project."
The reaction was immediate. Vardi and Goldfinger were ecstatic, buzzing with the sudden reality that their dream was about to be funded. But Vigiser remained calm, his expression sharp and serious.
"Mr. Blackwood, we are grateful for your belief in our project and we are willing to accept your investment," Vigiser said. "But we have one non-negotiable condition. As the founding team, we must retain a controlling stake in the company."
"No," Zane countered instantly, shaking his head. "You are the founding team, no one disputes that. But I am the one providing the real dollars. For a first-round angel investment, I require the controlling stake. That is my right as the primary financial backer."
"Then we cannot accept your offer," Vigiser replied without hesitation.
What followed was a tense battle of wills between Zane and Vigiser, with the other two founders watching silently. Zane considered simply stealing the idea and hiring his own team, but he suspected Vigiser was too smart for that. A quick call to his lawyer confirmed it: Vigiser and his team had already filed for a patent in the United States, of the technology itself.
His path to a hostile copy was blocked. While Zane wasn't afraid of a lawsuit, the ensuing legal battle would waste precious time, and he lacked the technical expertise to beat the original creators to market. He had been outmaneuvered.
He had to compromise. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but a profitable deal was better than no deal at all.
"Alright," Zane said, finally conceding. "You've convinced me."
The next morning, the contracts were signed. Zane invested $400,000 in exchange for a 40% stake in the newly formed company, Mirabilis, the parent of ICQ. The contract also guaranteed him priority investment rights in all future funding rounds.
"Sefi," Zane said, already in business mode, "I strongly suggest you establish the company here in Silicon Valley, not in Israel. This is the center of the internet universe."
The founders readily agreed.
"In fact," Zane added with a sly grin, "I own a building on the edge of the Valley. I'd be happy to rent you an entire floor at a competitive rate." One hand was investing in their dream; the other was already collecting rent. It was classic Zane.
After the three founders left, Zane's lawyer looked at him with a skeptical eye. "Boss, $400,000 is a lot to bet on three kids with an idea. Are you sure about this?"
Zane just smiled mysteriously. He was more than sure. He knew ICQ's future with perfect clarity.
He knew that the software would be an explosive, global success, attracting hundreds of millions of users in just a couple of years.
He knew that in 1998, a mere two years from now, America Online (AOL) would acquire the company for $407 million. His $400,000 investment would be worth over $160 million. It was a guaranteed 400x return.
He also knew that ICQ would ultimately fail to innovate, never properly monetizing its massive user base or developing non-English versions, which allowed a host of regional competitors to spring up and dominate their home markets. But that was a problem for AOL. By the time the company was sold again in 2010 for a fraction of its purchase price, Zane would be long gone, his pockets filled with AOL's cash.
He was in a good mood. This was the kind of deal he had come back in time to make.
===============================
100 Power Stone = 1 Bonus Chapter
Send me some powerstone.
https://www.patreon.com/c/kapa69
In it you will get all my fanfics.
Want to read 115+ chapters ahead? Support me on Patreon! And here by donating powerstone
for every 100 power stone I will drop a bonus chapter