"Fine," Sovan said at last. "I can do it."

Kiri did not move too quickly.

"How long?"

"One year."

Kenji answered before Kiri could.

"Two years minimum."

Sovan looked at him sharply.

"That is not possible."

"It is possible," Kenji said. "You have the authority for emergency supply protection. You will have to answer upward, yes, but that is already true even if you sign one year."

Sovan pressed his lips together.

He knew the problem now.

They had his weakness, and they knew his company’s coming shortage. If he argued too hard, they could push the first issue. If he delayed too long, the second issue would hurt him inside the company.

"Price," he said.

Kiri named a standard unit price for the controller chips, close to what Vesta Vision paid its outside supplier.

Sovan almost laughed.

"For a new local supplier? No."

Kiri did not argue loudly.

He adjusted the price down once, then tied it to delivery speed, replacement support, and fixed supply. Sovan pushed lower. Kenji brought the shortage back into the discussion. Davin stayed quiet until he mentioned the evaluation lot and delivery record from FrostMire.

That helped.

The negotiation moved for nearly forty minutes.

Sovan tried to split the order into several smaller approvals. Kiri refused because smaller approvals would let Vesta Vision walk away after the first delivery. Kenji offered a staged supply schedule instead, with the same two-year window written into the paper. Davin kept the numbers ready whenever either side tried to pretend the volume was unclear.

It was not a clean victory, but it became a workable one.

By the end, the first order and the two-year supply window came together at just under one million dollars in expected value.

Sovan signed the initial legal documents with a face that looked like defeat and relief mixed together.

When they left the building, Kenji did not look as happy as Davin expected.

"It happened," Davin said.

"It happened," Kenji replied. "But I do not feel proud of it. It does not feel like we won by ourselves."

Kiri walked beside him.

"You are right," he said. "But at the beginning, we need Wil’s help. If we survive long enough, the next deals will become ours properly. For now, we use the edge we have."

Kenji looked at the file under Kiri’s arm.

"And the other companies?"

"Now we can price better," Kiri said. "We have one signed deal, one evaluation lot, and a file full of pressure points. That means the next room becomes easier."

Davin nodded. "We still have more customers to reach. We should move fast."

They did.

By evening, three deals were signed.

Not all were clean wins. One company pushed hard on price. Another demanded a longer support clause. The third wanted a trial period written into the main agreement. But with Kiri leading, Kenji supporting, and Davin carrying the right details at the right time, each meeting ended with signatures.

The total expected revenue from the first orders and committed supply windows reached roughly seven million dollars.

The contracts ranged from two years to five.

For Unit 14, that number felt unreal.

Kenji did not celebrate loudly. Kiri did not let him. They still had delivery, quality, and support to survive. A signed deal could become a disaster if the first shipments failed. Even so, the company was no longer only a hopeful office with a hidden founder. It now had contracts that could be counted.

Davin looked at the copies of the signed papers more than once, as if the ink might disappear if he stopped checking.

That evening, while Unit 14 started to feel the weight of what had happened, Bruno sat in a drinking room across from Tobin Rell.

Tobin was the right-hand man of Maren Voss, leader of the Rust Gate Crew.

He was broad, scarred, and not easy to scare.

That was why Bruno did not start with fear.

He poured him a drink first.

"You are crazy," Tobin said after hearing the first half. "Who is going to kill Maren? You?"

Bruno smiled.

"Not me."

"Then who?"

"The people watching him."

Tobin’s expression changed only a little, but Bruno caught it.

"Your leader made noise about alliances," Bruno said. "You know that. He wanted to talk to outside people, but he also wanted to stay proud. That is dangerous now."

"What outside people?"

"International ones."

Tobin stared at him.

"There is only one organization."

Bruno shook his head.

"No. There is more than one. And one of them has already marked Maren."

For a while, Tobin said nothing.

Bruno leaned closer.

"Why do you think I am telling you this? If you run to Maren, then go. Tell him. Maybe he will praise you. Maybe he will wonder why someone told you first."

Tobin’s jaw tightened.

That was the line Bruno had wanted to reach.

Tobin was not stupid. If he reported this to Maren, Maren might reward him, but he might also ask why Bruno had chosen him as the messenger. Suspicion inside a gang did not need proof. It only needed a reason to start.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to live past him," Bruno said. "How long will you remain a right-hand man? If Maren falls and you are ready, you take the chair. You bring Rust Gate into the alliance with Gonda, and the people backing us will support you with money and position."

Tobin looked at the drink in front of him.

Bruno waited.

He was not fully calm. If Tobin refused, this could turn bad quickly. But if he accepted, then Bruno’s own value would rise again.

This was the same ladder Bruno was trying to climb. That was why he understood where to press. Ambitious men did not always need to be convinced that betrayal was good. They only needed to believe the winning side had already been chosen.

Tobin lifted the glass and drank.

"Fine," he said. "Tell me what I need to do."

Bruno’s smile widened.

"Nothing difficult. Just tell us where your boss is going. We will handle the rest."