A Life Once More-Chapter 61: Lorgica

{Eizkel's POV; While Kate & Ophi are in class}

I did the normal morning routine and made my way out. This meeting I had for today would be crucial for me establishing a foothold outside of acting. I still planned to live up to Eiz's dreams, and I decided to achieve a goal of mine.

The company I was heading to was called "Lorgica," which in this world's Aurelian means library. Now, you'd think they'd be an actual library—but no, they were a failing social media company. From the little bit of research I did, they had an app and website, but the optimization was ass. Plus, there were so many ads on the damn thing that it was unusable.

By 10 a.m., I arrived—a whole hour before I was supposed to. I entered the three-story building and was appalled. Numerous people just fucking around and chatting, which I would normally assume was lunch—but 50+ people?

'So layoffs are going to need to happen. I also need to observe any talented folk.'

I was coming today with 5 million to spend. Frankly, this company's net worth was only $466,000 because of all the losses. If the owner of this place wanted more than double, then I was just going to leave. The other four million was to keep this place afloat during the changes I wanted to implement.

"Can I help you, sir?" A tall woman with platinum blonde hair and sharp blue eyes stood behind the desk. Her features were striking—high cheekbones, a narrow nose, and full lips painted in a muted rose. She wore a fitted navy blouse tucked into charcoal slacks, the sleeves rolled just below the elbow, revealing slender wrists and a silver watch that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. She seemed irked, but not at me. Casting another look around, I nodded.

"Are you the only one working?" I pointed at everyone lounging around.

"I just do what I get paid to do. Did you have an appointment?"

I smiled, hearing her to-the-point tone.

"Yes, Eizkel Rhyse."

She stared at me with an "O" as she heard my name.

"Is something the matter?" I asked. Honestly, I was shocked she switched up.

"Would it be possible to get your autograph?"

"That's it? Yeah, no problem—I can do so after this meeting."

"Yes!"

'I see.' I looked at her name tag, taking note of her name. Naomi LaCrose? Intriguing name. Not really a mashup I would've guessed.

Finishing whatever she was doing on the computer, she led me to the elevator. Following me, she hit the top floor, and when the doors opened, I saw a dude seemingly the same age as me in the boss's seat.

"Boss, this is Eizkel." Naomi lightly bowed. She seemed used to this dude's looks at her.

The guy in the chair didn't even acknowledge her. His eyes were glued to her hips with lazy, blatant lust. Legs spread wide, one arm slung over the backrest, the other nursing a thermos like lifting it took effort—his whole posture screamed entitlement.

He looked about my age, but something about him felt prematurely worn. Greasy, side-slicked chestnut hair. A soft jaw that hinted at too many drinks and too little discipline. He wore a wrinkled pink dress shirt under a white designer hoodie, paired with cargo joggers—like a walking startup failure.

A nameplate on the desk read: "Rafferty Quinn – CEO."

Shaking my head, I took a seat across from him and seized the chance to practice. My spine straightened, face hardening as I flattened my expression into something cold and unreadable.

"Good morning."

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"Huh? Yeah yeah." He waved dismissively with a clumsy flick of his wrist, the bracelets on his arm clinking like cheap chimes. "So what do you want?"

"This company."

PFFT!

He spat out a mouthful of tea with such force that droplets sprayed across the desk and landed on a stack of poorly maintained documents. From behind me, I heard a sharp gasp—Naomi hadn't left yet.

"Y-You seriously want this shithole?"

"Correct."

"I mean, please! I wanted to get rid of this fucking place, but my dad keeps telling me to find a way to save it." He leaned back, rubbing his temple with stained fingers as his leg bounced beneath the desk. "What the hell does he want me to do? Pour more money?"

[Wow.]

'I know, dude.'

I felt Ezryn's shock pulse through me like static. To see someone this incompetent made me thankful that I was raised right.

"I'll offer $600,000." I let the number hang in the air, steady and low, like a lure tossed gently into shallow water. His eyes twitched.

"I want $800,000." His voice came out slightly hoarse, his lips still damp from the tea. His tone held none of the confidence the number implied.

"$700,000." My fingers tapped the armrest once. I didn't blink.

"Tch. $850,000." He scoffed, shifting in his chair, leather squeaking beneath his weight. His hoodie looked tighter now, like it resented the sweat forming beneath it.

"$550,000." I dropped my voice just slightly. It was so calm it caused his eye to twitch

"Are you playing with me?" His glare sharpened, but his posture gave him away. He leaned forward too fast, trying to intimidate but the sour hint of desperation clung to his breath.

"I should be asking that." I tilted my head ever so slightly. "This company's net worth—even when rounded up—is $500,000, and you want $300,000 more?"

His bravado cracked. He looked at the desk, at me, then slumped into the chair like a child caught bluffing at poker.

"Fine, fine, $600,000! Just take this shithole place from me!" He rubbed his face, mumbling something under his breath I didn't bother decoding.

"With pleasure." My voice came out like ice, and I stood, already reaching for my phone to finalize the paperwork.

I took my phone out and sent a text to Mom. Things went smoother than I thought, and before the hour ended, numerous lawyers had arrived from my side along with this dude's side. We had a contract written up and signed by both parties, along with a third and fourth copy held by both respective law firms.

Everything finished before noon, and I was now the owner of "Lorgica."

[I doubt anything else will be this easy.]

'Well, Ezryn, he wanted to get rid of this place and I provided an opportunity. Of course it was relatively easy!'

[Way too easy.]

'Of course it would be! Look at these damn numbers.'

[HOLY FUCK! Such losses should be fucking studied.]

'I agree.' I couldn't help but feel the urge to puke seeing the data on last quarter's performance.