Chapter 293: Zoey! Savage!

Even Sarah Gascogne, Vivendi’s Vice Chairman, who knew zilch about gaming, couldn’t ignore the numbers.

Ten billion in two years?

That kind of profit was worth the gamble.

Acquiring a mid-sized U.S. gaming company like WindyPeak Games? Low risk, high reward.

But…

“You sure?” Sarah asked, cool as ever.

Barb Cornick smirked. “Everyone knows WindyPeak’s cooking a big FPS, Overwatch.”

“If we push them to go public, take investments, and play by global rules, I’m 100% sure we’ll snag them. No way I flop.”

Not just talk. With CloudWave-Vivendi’s cash, a public WindyPeak was easy prey.

What, WindyPeak’s got Parker Capital behind them, a top U.S. financial player?

So what? Vivendi, a Euro-American titan, didn’t care about Parker, Johnson, or Lee Capital. If the ROI was there, no one could stop them.

Sarah nodded. “Fine. But what if they refuse to go public?”

Cornick’s brows twitched. “We force them.”

“Or…”

“Buy them outright.”

Three weeks after the Golden Bull Challenge’s triumph, Charlie Pétain, CloudWave Games’ VP and Cornick’s right-hand man, rolled into Seattle with a seven-person “cooperation team.”

Before stepping into WindyPeak Games’ office, Pétain briefed his crew.

They were the “trouble” Gus Harper had sensed.

Last week, CloudWave’s business call had set Gus on edge. He’d first heard of Vivendi three years ago, learning the gaming industry’s ropes in this world.

The name alone made him shudder.

In his past life, Vivendi was infamous, especially for nearly gutting Ubisoft, his old employer. Only player backlash and a rival’s intervention saved it.

Now, CloudWave-Vivendi’s “cooperation” call reeked of danger.

Gus dug deeper. CloudWave’s CEO? Barb Cornick—the “damned bastard.”

The combo of Vivendi and Cornick? A death knell. They’d turn any studio into the “mining era” RTX 30-series—strip-mined and worthless.

Gus had already told CloudWave over the phone: no investments, no sponsorships. But they insisted on a “friendly exchange and inspection.”

Out of options, Gus agreed, reluctantly “welcoming” them to Seattle.

Morning, WindyPeak Games’ entrance in Tech Tower, Seattle.

“I’ve heard of you, Mr. Pétain. I’m Gus Harper, and this is our CEO, Zoey Parker,” Gus said, forcing civility.

Pétain, a wiry guy with a smarmy vibe, shook hands lightly. “Mr. Gus, Ms. Zoey, show us around.”

Gus’s jaw tightened.

A business visit, first meeting, and this guy skips titles? Just “show us around”?

Pétain’s tone screamed condescension. If Vivendi’s chairman showed up, would he dare act this smug?

He was looking down on WindyPeak Games from the jump.

Gus glanced at Zoey, ready to send her back to the office. If you’re gonna be rude, our CEO’s too busy for your tour group. I’m enough.

But Zoey beat him to it.

“Gus, give them the tour. Let them chill in the lounge, soak in WindyPeak’s vibe,” she said in crisp English, ensuring Pétain caught every word. “I’ve got a quick meeting. Conference room, twenty minutes.”

She flashed a fake smile, mimicking Pétain’s lip twitch, and strutted off.

OHHHHH! Gus cheered internally. Zoey! Savage!

Zoey’s elite upbringing—tied to Parker Capital—meant she didn’t play nice with clowns. No courtesy? No problem—she’d clap back.

Pétain’s face darkened, caught off guard. “Ms. Zoey… busy with work? We’re honored you greeted us.”

Trying to save face.

Gus wasn’t letting it slide. “Just a routine meeting at HQ. Follow me, folks.”

Pétain’s expression soured further.

A routine meeting over a visit from CloudWave-Vivendi, the world’s top gaming conglomerate? His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

He’d underestimated WindyPeak Games.

Sure, they were hot now, but so were all the companies CloudWave devoured at their peak. A three-year-old mid-sized studio? Small fry.

If not for their momentum, CloudWave wouldn’t bother.

Zoey’s cold shoulder stung.

Wait till we own you, Pétain thought, stewing.

Gus led the group through WindyPeak Games. At the Golden Experience Project Department, Pétain paused.

“Mr. Gus, mind showing us the work environment?”

He was fishing for Overwatch details, hoping to gauge progress for leverage.

Normally, a studio like WindyPeak Games wouldn’t say no to CloudWave’s VP.

“Nah,” Gus said, grinning like it was obvious. “Development’s confidential. You get it, Mr. Pétain.”

In the conference room, Pétain’s face was red.

“CloudWave’s offering $180M, plus Vivendi Ventures’ $300M. That’s $500M—way over your company’s value—for just 23% equity.”

“You’d skip the whole IPO hassle. Ring the Nasdaq bell. Why hesitate?”

Pétain didn’t get it.

$500M, nearly $3.5B, for 23%? WindyPeak Games’ assets were around $2.5–3B, with liquid assets at 30–40% (Chapter 295). This was a steal—enough to build another WindyPeak Games.

Gus and Zoey stayed cool, even smiling.

Gus leaned in. “Mr. Pétain, no hesitation needed.”

Pétain’s eyes lit up, hopeful.

“Because we’ve said from the start: no IPO,” Gus finished.

Ice water on Pétain’s dreams.

Zoey piled on. “We appreciate the offer, but it’s not about the money.”

Silence. Pétain glanced at his team.

“New approach?” he said.

Gus raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“$800M,” Pétain shot back. “Deep partnership. IP ops, dev funding, hiring support.”

Gus nearly laughed. IP ops? Plundering. Funding? Meddling. Hiring? Restructuring.

CloudWave was pivoting to force. Cash to crush.

Legally, subsidiaries like WindyPeak Games could transfer equity without parent company votes, per U.S. law, if bylaws allowed. CloudWave knew it, flexing their wallet.

Zoey scoffed. $800M was tempting, but it’d gut their control. Gus wouldn’t run the show, and even she, the “CEO,” would answer to CloudWave.

“Tsk,” Zoey said, smirking. “Mr. Pétain, I said, it’s not about money.”

“$900M!” Pétain cut in, brows raised, hinting. “Ms. Zoey, being a female CEO ain’t easy.”

Zoey froze, smile fading.

“$1B!” Pétain pressed, dropping the fake grin, voice slow and serious. “Ms. Zoey, Mr. Gus, think hard. A mid-sized studio, $1B, over $7B total acquisition price. Unheard of, globally.”

“We admire your creativity, your potential. But WindyPeak Games is weak. Especially against CloudWave-Vivendi.”

Silence. Long silence.

Gus sighed, shaking his head, resigned.

Zoey’s lips curled, a warm smile masking fire.

Pétain smirked, thinking he’d won. “Ms. Zoey, you get it—”

Before he finished, Zoey’s voice cut through, sweet but lethal:

“Get out.”