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Chapter - 128
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 16:48:14 +0000 UTC[Title : One Thousand Eight Hundred Twenty Five Days]
….
[Three Days later]
….
Outside the conference room, Regal's footsteps slowed.
“Rock, wait out here.” He said, glancing up at the towering figure beside him. “If you get bored, there is a café across the street - grab something to eat.”
He didn’t explain further, but the reason was clear. A man of Rock’s size could easily be misread in a boardroom full of sharp egos and old insecurities. The last thing Regal needed was someone assuming he’d brought muscle to a strategy meeting.
Rock stared at him for a second, processing the request in his usual slow, deliberate way. Then he simply nodded and held out a massive hand.
Regal sighed, already reaching for his wallet. He placed a black card in Rock’s palm - where it looked comically small, more like a scrap of receipt paper than a bank card.
As Rock turned to leave, he muttered over his shoulder. “Stay safe. You are a fragile one.”
Regal smirked. “I am perfectly healthy. You are the one who looks like a lab accident.”
He gave Rock a friendly jab in the back, which the giant man barely noticed, brushing it off like a passing breeze.
As Rock walked off, the tension that lingered around Regal seemed to lift slightly.
To his side, Samantha gave a short laugh. “He is a real character, isn’t he?”
“Yeah… no kidding.” Regal chuckled.
Just a few steps away from the destination.
“Regal… you have a plan, right?” Samantha asked, her voice low but tense. She clutched a file of backup notes - Plan B, in case he crashed.
"I do." Regal said, eyes fixed on the door ahead. "But I am still figuring out how to go about it. Should I walk in there and push it through, no room for debate? Or should I take it slow, explain everything, let them come around on their own?"
Regal knew time is not a luxury he has… but also knew forcing it could backfire. Those people... some of them have been building this world since before he was even born, and the room he is about to enter isn't going to be about egos - it’s about pride.
A sigh slipped from him. “This is complicated.”
But there was no time to think. He was already at the entrance.
Inside, the meeting was already underway.
Stan was seated at the head of the long walnut table, calm but watchful.
Flanking him on either side were two figures - his own son, Tolliver Lee.
And across from him - Carrow Seagal - the adopted son of Stan’s long-time friend Jerry Siegel.
The rest of the room was filled with editorial leads, illustrators, and market analysts from MDC’s upper rung.
Stan introduced Regal briefly. “Everyone, this is Regal. He will be overseeing creative direction on the upcoming feature and collaborating on continuity sync across the expanded materials.”
There was a polite round of nods - some curious, some blank, a few faintly skeptical.
Regal offered a respectful nod and took an empty seat near the end of the table. He remained silent as the meeting commenced.
For half an hour, Regal said nothing.
He listened. Took notes. Studied dynamics. They discussed timeline restructures, character trajectories, variant arcs, and long-term publishing rhythm. To his surprise, it was more coordinated than expected, efforts to stabilize continuity across issues, balance art timelines, and even early forecasts for international distribution.
The conversation was surprisingly productive, even smooth.
It was going better than Regal had expected.
Until—
“Regal.” Stan said, leaning forward, hands clasped. “You have been quiet. Got anything to add?”
Regal adjusted in his seat, looking around the room.
“I do have a question.” He said, carefully. “Actually… just one.”
A pause. “Whose idea was it to kill off Spidey in last month’s issue?”
The room froze.
Not metaphorically. Tangibly.
Eyes darted, half-involuntary, toward two people.
Stan’s son. And Jerry’s adopted son - Carrow.
“What?” Carrow snapped. Frustrated. “You got something to say?”
“I made that call.” He continued, unbothered. “Best move we made in months. Sales spiked and you saw the biggest spike in half a year. That’s a win."
Regal didn’t argue. He knew they were right…. on paper at least.
The numbers had indeed spiked, headlines had exploded, the internet buzzed nonstop - the death of Spider-Man had brought in the highest sales MDC had seen in over a year.
But… at what cost?
He didn’t say it aloud. Didn’t need to.
Instead, he stood.
“Stan.” He said calmly. “Can I borrow ten minutes?”
Stan nodded once.
Two voices rose in protest, one from marketing, another from editorial.
“We are already over time.”
“Let’s stick to agenda—”
Stan lifted a hand. They fell quiet.
Regal walked slowly to the front, and Samantha was already ready. She handed him a rolled sheet from her folder.
Without a word, Regal unrolled it, pinned it to the board, and then stepped directly in front of it - blocking the view entirely.
Eyes narrowed. Murmurs flickered.
Then he began.
“First.” He said, his voice firm but measured. “I am here to officially confirm a partnership between LIE360 Studios and MDC.”
A ripple passed through the room.
“And as part of this collaboration, the first movie adaptation under our new banner will be formally announced next week.”
Murmurs ignited into low, cautious unrest.
“A movie?” Someone whispered.
“Now, of all times?”
“Remember what happened last time?” Another muttered. “We are still cleaning the ash off that disaster.”
“I haven’t touched green tea since that film.” Someone joked, drawing a strained laugh from their last venture - [Green Lantern].
Still, Stan said nothing. Just sat quietly, arms folded, face unreadable.
Regal continued, his tone unshaken.
“It’s already been greenlit.” He said. “By our Chairman.”
Stan simply nodded once, without meeting anyone’s gaze.
The murmuring surged.
Regal raised his voice just a notch. “As part of our foundational arc, I am requesting a reboot for three lines: Spider-Man, Iron Man, and Batman.”
More murmurs - sharper now.
“And though it’s outside the immediate scope of this project.” He continued. “I want editorial to seriously consider reworking Batman’s narrative. It’s long overdue.”
Now the murmurs cracked into audible tension.
“Iron Man?” Someone scoffed. “Seriously?”
“My grandson thought he was a talking robot.” Another editor added. “Didn’t even know there was a man inside the suit.”
“If we reboot Spidey again.” Someone near the back growled. “Whatever credibility we have left? Gone. Fans will think we have lost the plot.”
At the far end of the table, two figures shared a smirk - Stan Lee’s son and Jerry Siegel’s adopted heir - neither had spoken through the meeting, but their silence now felt pointed.
Still, their expressions said everything: This kid’s going to get eaten alive.
Then Regal moved.
Without a word, he stepped to the side of the board.
And revealed what he had been hiding.
A single large sheet, with two clean, bold logos.
The paper held two symbols.
Or two logos.
One in bold, passionate red - sharp edges, clean curve :
MARVEL.
The other in serene, midnight blue - solid and dignified.
DC.
In this world, neither logo had existed until this moment.
Even Stan tilted his head slightly in intrigue.
…in the background the murmurs are still going on.
Regal didn’t explain immediately.
Instead, he drew a breath - and suddenly slammed his open palm against the sheet, right between the two symbols.
A sharp, cracking sound echoed through the still room.
It wasn’t aggressive… but didn't seem disrespectful… and still somehow managed to be commanding - like a director calling action.
Eyes widened. A few flinched. Some opened their mouths as if to protest, but nothing came out.
Then they saw his face.
It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t ego.
It was conviction - raw, carved-in-stone conviction.
And presence. That strange, overwhelming presence Regal seemed to carry in flashes - beyond his age, beyond his resume.
How the hell does a 24-year-old carry that?
Then Regal spoke.
“In Five years…. One thousand eight hundred twenty five days.” He said clearly. “I want these two symbols to be etched into the global consciousness. Gender, age, geography - doesn’t matter. Just one glimpse of either logo… and people should know exactly what they are in for. Whether it’s a comic book, a film, or a cereal box, I want people to run toward it.”
He paused and stepped aside, gesturing toward them like they were sacred.
“And no matter how insane this sounds - I am going to make that happen.”
Then, without warning, he bowed.
Bowed?
A deep, commanding bow, not subservient, not performative.
The kind of bow that carried purpose.
“So please….” Regal said, voice rich with both humility and fire. “Cooperate with me. I know I lack experience. I know I haven’t done this before. But I know what I am doing. And I won’t let you down.”
The room was dead silent.
Goosebumps rippled through more than one person. One editor instinctively looked at her arm - hairs were standing on end.
It was like waking from a trance.
Behind them, a sudden snap broke the silence.
Everyone turned.
It was the wooden armrest of Stan’s chair.
It had cracked beneath his grip, but it lacked the frustration they feared.
…there is only visible adrenaline.
Stan was smiling - but it was wide, breathless, like a man who had seen lightning strike ground in front of him.
He looked at Regal with something he hadn’t shown the boy before.
Respect.
And maybe even a little fear.
But he didn’t care.
He could see it now. The picture Regal painted.
It was outrageous. Impossible.
And yet… for the first time in years, Stan felt it.
A future.
Something bigger than any of them had imagined.
Every eye turned to Stan.
Waiting.
Holding their breath.
Even Regal stood still now.
And then, after a long pause, Stan finally leaned forward, just slightly, and exhaled through his nose.
“Well.” He said, voice low but thrilled. “Damn.”
“Looks like I didn’t just make the right choice…”
He looked around the room.
“…I might have found the storm we have been waiting for.”
.
….
[To be continued…]
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Comments
JSA JUZZ
Cant wait for Marvel VS Capcom
JSA JUZZ
Fucking awesome dude
