Surviving In This Filthy World As A Novel Villain

"An advantage?" Alex repeated, chuckling.

"No, Waters. It’s a death sentence." He took a slow step forward, his tone calm but brimming with confidence.

"Our product will be superior in every way, faster healing, fewer side effects, and most importantly…" His smirk widened.

"…a much lower price."

Mr. Waters stiffened. It was a brutal strategy, that is only if it works but he believed in Alex at least from how he handles everything till now.

Ethan Carter and the Winters family had risked everything to fund this production. If their product didn’t sell, they would collapse under their own weight.

And that’s exactly what Alex wanted.

Mr. Waters swallowed. "But… what happens next? After we take the market?"

Alex’s smirk didn’t fade. He simply returned to his desk, leaning against it with an air of absolute control.

"Then," he said softly, "we wait."

Mr. Waters’ breath caught. ’Wait? What else could they possibly need to wait for?’

Ethan would already be struggling to survive.

And then, as if reading his thoughts, Alex gave a slow, deliberate nod.

"Once Ethan realizes that he can’t sell a single unit, he’ll have no choice." He reached for his whiskey again, taking a leisurely sip before finishing his sentence. "…He’ll be forced to sell everything."

The weight of those words sank into the room like a stone.

Mr. Waters felt his stomach drop.

"You mean…" He swallowed hard. "The production line? The raw materials?" His voice wavered. "…The patents?"

Alex exhaled, tilting his head slightly.

"All of it." A silence stretched between them. A heavy, unforgiving silence.

"Sir!" Mr. Waters’ voice was barely above a whisper. "Are you saying… you’re going to buy everything off them… for pennies?"

Alex set his glass down. Then he smirked.

"BINGO!."

The older man’s legs almost felt weak. This wasn’t even a competition. This was a trap, one so perfectly set that Ethan wouldn’t even realize it until it was already too late.

And the worst part? There was nothing he could do to stop it.

Mr. Waters exhaled shakily.

"…You really are terrifying, Sir." Alex only chuckled, picking up his phone and casually dialing a number.

"It’s business," he said simply, as if discussing something as trivial as a stock investment.

He let the call ring, amusement flickering in his gaze.

"Let’s see…" he mused. "The Winters family has been bleeding money for years. I wonder…" A slow, merciless smirk curled his lips. "…just how much more they can lose before they break completely."

"Was that why you only sent Rose to prison and not her family…? … Sir, did you predict this would happen?"

….

Later:

Alex sat in his spacious office, the afternoon light casting long shadows through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

His fingers drummed idly against the polished mahogany desk, his piercing gaze locked onto the small white container placed before him.

Across from him, Mr. Waters stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his usual composed demeanor tinged with the faintest trace of urgency.

Alex finally spoke, his voice smooth and measured.

"Is this it?" His fingers stopped drumming, and he picked up the small container, rolling it between his fingers with a calculated slowness.

Mr. Waters gave a firm nod, watching Alex Carefully.

"Yes, Sir. This is a sample of our special formula." A brief silence stretched between them before Mr. Waters hesitated, his brows knitting together.

"But… Sir… Do you really want Ethan Carter to get his hands on this?" Mr. Waters asked confirming ine more time from Alex, he though understood it was Alex plan but he couldn’t exactly figure out what the plan was.

Alex smirked. There was something coldly amused in his expression as he set the jar back down with a soft clink.

"Of course."

Mr. Waters didn’t reply immediately, but his lips pressed into a thin line. His loyalty to Alex was unquestionable, yet he couldn’t help but feel uneasy about this strategy and plan.

Alex leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

"This isn’t just about selling a product," he said, his voice carrying a quiet certainty. "It’s about control. Right now, Ethan thinks he is in control."

He let the words hang in the air, his smirk widening.

"But soon… he’ll start to doubt everything."

….

At Ethan Carter Manufacturing Factory:

The rhythmic hum of machines filled the vast production facility, the scent of sterilized metal and freshly unpacked materials lingering in the air. Workers moved efficiently, making last-minute checks on the assembly lines.

Ethan Carter stood near one of the conveyor belts, sharp eyes scanning the progress. His tailored suit, though a contrast to the factory setting, did nothing to lessen the commanding presence he exuded.

Etahn held a clipboard, his sharp features set in concentration.

"By tomorrow," Ethan mused, nodding in approval, "we’ll be fully operational."

He gave a satisfied nod to himself. "Everything’s running on schedule. The first batch should be ready for market within days."

But before Ethan could assess any further, the rapid clack of dress shoes echoed down the hallway.

Harold Winters burst into the room, his usually calm expression replaced with thinly veiled panic.

"Ethan—we have a problem."

Ethan turned slowly, his smirk unfaltering.

"You’re always so dramatic, Harold," he teased. "What is it this time?"

Harold ran a hand through his graying hair, exhaling sharply.

"Waters is outside." For the first time, the air around Ethan shifted. The amusement in his expression didn’t fade completely, but a new sharpness settled in his gaze.

"Reid Industries CEO Alex Butler himself and also his aide, is at my factory gates?"

Harold gave a firm nod. "Yes. And not alone. He’s got two assistants with him."

His grip on his clipboard tightened. "This doesn’t feel right." Ethan remained silent for a moment before finally exhaling a slow breath.

"Let him wait."

Harold blinked. "Wait? Ethan, this is practically Alex’s right-hand man. He wouldn’t just show up without a reason."

Ethan rolled his shoulders, a smirk returning to his lips. "Exactly. And that’s why I’m going to hear him out." With that, he turned and strode toward the entrance.

Harold cursed under his breath before reluctantly following.

"I swear, if that old man tries something…"

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(A/N: Next Chapter Soon! Some Golden tickets guys!!!)

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