NOVEL SIMPLE CHAPTER 44: A Dollar and a Dream
Alicia sat at her desk, feeling overwhelmed by the mountain of contracts and paperwork before her. This wasn’t what she had envisioned when she agreed to help her father run the gym. The Society for Creative Battles had always been a passion project for them, a place where people could come together and enjoy the thrill of combat sports. But now, with the stakes so high, it felt like the heart of their dream was being buried under a pile of legal jargon and dollar signs.
"This is nuts," Alicia muttered, rubbing her temples. Her father, Maxwell, stood beside her, just as burdened by the weight of their decisions.
"It was already nuts when it was a million dollars just for the gym facilities," Maxwell said, shaking his head. "And to be honest, the board was 80% set on taking it. But for three million dollars? I don’t see any reason to turn it down, except for the possible future risks. If things don’t pan out, we’re going to be shelling out a lot more money. And you know, honey, we don’t have that much more cash in the family."
"I know, Dad," Alicia replied, her voice heavy with resignation. She knew that the offer from Mohammed was tempting, especially given their financial situation. But something about selling everything didn’t sit right with her. It felt like they were giving up on their dreams.
Just then, the door to the office swung open, and Atlas strode in with his usual confidence. "I know you guys have been thinking about selling the Society for Creative Battles," he said, "and I’d like to make an offer."
Alicia looked up, surprised. "What?"
"Yeah," Atlas continued, "I’d like to make an offer. But the price is going to be a little low."
Maxwell raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How much are you offering?"
Atlas grinned. "How does one dollar sound?"
Alicia blinked, her mind racing. She was used to Atlas’s unconventional ideas, but this was something else entirely. "Okay, you’ve got to tell me why it’s one dollar," she said, her curiosity ate away at her. Even in her mental file labeled “Atlas’ Crazy Plans,” this one stood out. *What is this guy thinking? One dollar?
Atlas leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "All right, here’s the deal. You’ve got two contracts in front of you, right? The first is the one-million-dollar offer to buy the facilities so that Mohammed can turn it into a Sword & Iron chain."
"That’s right," Maxwell confirmed.
"And then you’ve got the second offer for three million dollars, which includes the team."
"Exactly," Alicia said, still trying to piece together where Atlas was going with this.
"Well, I don’t want the facilities," Atlas explained. "So, I think you should take the first million-dollar offer. You’ll have made a big chunk of cash, but what happens to the Society for Creative Battles and the team?"
Alicia frowned. "That’s where your dollar comes in?"
"Exactly," Atlas said, nodding. "I’m buying the team, and I’m buying it for one dollar. But here’s the kicker: that one-dollar offer comes with a brand new arena, a stadium in Calgary."
Maxwell’s eyes widened in surprise. "Well, that is a horse of a different colour," he said, clearly intrigued. The idea of having a new arena, especially one in a major city like Calgary, was something he hadn’t considered.
While Edmonton was a far better city in most people’s opinions, Calgary wasn’t a bad second choice.
"But why do you want the team under your control so badly, Atlas?" Alicia asked, still not fully convinced. "Why not just let us handle it?"
Atlas’s expression turned serious. "Because, Alicia, this team needs to be under my control if we’re going to succeed. I’ve got a vision for the Portal Crushers, and it’s not just about winning fights. It’s about turning this team into something bigger, something that can stand on its own even when the chips are down. If we’re going to do that, I need to be the one calling the shots. A symbol, you might call it. We can’t have too many cooks in the kitchen, especially with what’s coming. Plus, with everything I’ve been through, I’m not about to let anyone else have the final say in my future."
Alicia looked into Atlas’s eyes and could almost see the hurt of past betrayal reflecting from them.
Alicia considered this for a moment. Atlas was right; he’d always been the driving force behind the team’s success. And with the new arena, maybe he was the only one who could see this through. She exchanged a glance with her father, who nodded slightly.
The next day, Maxwell called the board to discuss Atlas’s proposal. As he laid out the details, the board members were pleasantly surprised. The idea of selling the gym facilities to Mohammed while keeping the team and moving to a new arena was an unexpected twist, but one that made sense. It allowed them to make a profit and still hold on to the essence of what they had built.
The only detail left to hash out was how the team would be split. Atlas had made it clear that he wanted to be the majority controller of the SFB team, with everything to do with it under his management. The stadium would still be mostly owned by Bill Watt, the previous owner of the Home Fixin’ Center, while the board would get a share of the profits. However, their stake wouldn’t be enough to grant them decision-making power.
Despite some initial reservations, everyone agreed that this was the best course of action. The call was made, and Maxwell contacted Mohammed to finalize the deal.
"Mohammed," Maxwell began, "we’re going to take the deal."
"Great," Mohammed replied, "I’ll get the three million dollars over to you."
"No, wait," Maxwell interrupted. "We’re going to take the million."
"What do you mean?" Mohammed asked, confused.
"You wanted to buy the facilities for a million, right? Turn it into a Sword & Iron?"
"That’s right," Mohammed said.
Maxwell confirmed. "We’re going to take that deal."
Mohammed hesitated. "What about Team Portal Crusher?"
"Well, that’s not really on the table," Maxwell said, keeping his tone neutral. He knew Mohammed was more interested in the real estate than the team itself.
Mohammed thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I don’t really care what happens to Team Portal Crusher. I got the location I wanted for my franchise."
*This is perfect,* Mohammed thought, a grin spreading across his face. *Without a gym to call home, Atlas and his team won’t have anywhere to play this season. The other SFB gyms already have teams. And it won’t be approved to have a new gym start and take over. Good luck is finally raining down on me.*
For Mohammed, this wasn’t just a business deal—it was a chance to elevate Sword & Iron to the top. As the reigning champions, they deserved the prestige, the spotlight that Atlas was currently stealing. *And now,* he thought, *with the prime location in my hands, the Sword & Iron brand will be unstoppable.* The thought of being the most popular team in the SFB drove him to seal the deal quickly. This was his moment to shine.
The paperwork was signed, and the next day, Team Portal Crusher was flying to Calgary. As the plane soared through the clouds, Alicia couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was another huge gamble, but if anyone could make it work, it was Atlas.
***
As the city skyline of Calgary came into view, Alicia took a deep breath. The future of the Society for Creative Battles was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like they were moving toward something big.
Atlas sitting in his plane seat swirled the scotch in his hand, watching the amber liquid catch the light. *It’s been a hell of a day,* he thought, mentally checking off his progress.
1. *Got myself in shape and prepped for portals.*
2. *Putting together my crack team of five ass-kicking assistants.*
3. *Getting them all mentally prepared for the wasteland.*
4. *Now that we have a home, and I’ve got a guarantee. Nobody can stop all the mental portal training, I’ve prepped.*
5. *Keep pumping out the propaganda about portals. That part depends on how popular I can get my show.*
He took a slow sip, letting the warmth spread through him, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. *Almost there.*
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