From Idler to Tech Tycoon: Earth
Chapter 70: Setting It All Up, Again

Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Setting It All Up, Again

The bedroom door creaked open without a knock.

"Richard," Anita called from the hallway. "Aren’t you gonna eat dinner?"

He didn’t respond immediately, just blinked at his screen.

"Come on," she added, stepping in now. "Let’s eat together so the staff can wash everything at once. You’re getting thin."

Richard sighed through his nose, not looking away from the floating blueprint menu. "Yes, ma," he mumbled.

"No, get up, not just yes," she said, crossing her arms.

He pushed himself off the chair like a man sentenced. "Fine, fine, I’m going."

Downstairs, the buzz of conversation spilled out from the massive dining hall. The company’s new HQ wasn’t just an office anymore—it was practically a village. The main building sat at the center of a sprawling compound, now home to hundreds of Estello employees. Most were part of the agriculture division, living on-site while delivering orders to nearby cities.

The hall smelled like garlic rice and roasted chicken. Tables stretched wall to wall, staff lined up at buffet tables with trays, chatting about irrigation schedules, soil sensors, gossip.

Jack spotted him immediately. "Oh dude, miracle! You’re eating with us for once."

Richard raised a brow. "I’m not that bad."

"You’re the last man to ever show up. We figured you were building a nuclear bomb or something."

Anita clicked her tongue. "Hmph. If I didn’t drag his lazy ass, he’d be up messing around, playing games or whatever it is he does."

Jack snorted into his drink.

Richard rubbed the back of his neck. "I was working, thank you."

Anita ignored him and reached for a plate—his plate—and started loading food like she was feeding a recovering coma patient.

"Ma—come on. I can do it."

"No," she said, without even glancing up. "Look at you. You’re thinner. I don’t think you even ate yesterday."

"That’s not—ugh, okay, fine." He stood there, six-foot-six, looking like a NBA player with a PhD, while his mom stacked fried tilapia and adobo like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

People nearby noticed. A few chuckled. Someone whispered, "Is that his mom?" like they were watching a sitcom live.

Richard muttered under his breath, "This is frustrating."

"What was that?" Anita asked, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," he said quickly, smiling like a hostage.

Anita handed him the over-stuffed plate with a satisfied nod. "Here. Eat a lot tonight. I still have to make my own, so don’t complain."

Richard took it with both hands like it weighed something. "Thanks, Ma."

She walked off, muttering something about how men don’t know how to serve rice properly.

Richard slid into the seat next to Jack, who was halfway through his own meal.

"Dude," Jack said, stabbing a lump of garlic butter shrimp. "Seriously. You work like a machine. Just... enjoy life like a normal person for once."

Richard smirked, nudging the rice with his spoon. "I am enjoying life. This is peak luxury. Look, food I didn’t make."

"Wow," Jack deadpanned. "Living the dream."

They both chuckled, clinking their plastic water cups like it was champagne.

Jack leaned back, eyes flicking to his wrist display. "Anyway—Rockstar replied."

Richard perked up.

"They’re flying out in three days. They wanna talk face-to-face."

"If I had to guess," Richard said, chewing thoughtfully. "They probably want access to Vector Core’s AI algorithm. Guess they’re done trying to hack together something with Unreal or Unity and wanna build their own engine."

Jack raised a brow. "You think they’ll go full buyout pitch?"

"Nah," Richard shrugged. "They’ll try the subscription first. Reverse-engineer what they can, then lowball us for the tech, hoping we’ll fold."

"Classic," Jack said, snorting. "Do the ol’ test-run, then copy-paste. CEOs are just modders with suits now."

Richard grinned. "Yeah well, if they manage to pull it off, I’ll just open-source Variant 3."

Jack almost choked. "What? You’d just give it away?!"

"Why not?" Richard said, casual. "If one company gets to use it exclusively, why not give everyone the scraps? Level the field."

"You are brutal."

"No," Richard said, pointing his spoon like it was a sermon. "I just believe in fair game. There’s a difference between chasing money and actually giving a damn about the people who use your stuff."

Jack shook his head. "Man. You really wanna start a war in the game dev community, huh?"

"It’s just a contingency, If they started it, make sure you’re the one to finish it. But, honestly I’m always open to cooperation."

Jack whistled. "Tactical and poetic."

Richard smirked. "It’s the hunger. Makes me philosophical."

Jack leaned back in his chair, balancing his plate on his knee. "Anyway—Dad says we need to start prepping for mass hiring. Admins, accountants, HR, more game devs. Interns aren’t gonna cut it once the multiplayer update goes live."

Richard nodded, chewing slow. "We need people who actually play games. Not just folks looking to check a box on LinkedIn. Our engine’s procedural and AI-supported. You don’t need a computer science degree to figure it out—just brains and a little obsession."

Jack tapped the table with his fork. "Exactly what I said. Find the broke but passionate kids. The ones wasting time in internet cafes. They’re out there, man—probably playing our alpha builds on cracked rigs."

Richard laughed under his breath. "Yeah. Hire the no-lifers, save the project. Could make for a cool documentary."

Jack chuckled. "Bytebull: Rise of the Jobless."

They clinked cups again.

Richard leaned forward, voice shifting. "Also—system admins. Network engineers. We’ll need a solid team for server infrastructure. Multiplayer rollout’s gonna eat bandwidth like candy."

Jack nodded. "Yup. And another server setup for Phoenix AI. That thing needs isolation—and a dedicated team. The current build’s already hogging cycles."

"I know." Richard sighed. "We can’t have overlap between the AI sandbox and the public servers. Too many variables."

Jack let out a frustrated grunt. "It’s annoying."

Richard smirked. "Only at the start. Your pops is doing the paperwork for now. Be grateful."

Jack winced. "Yeah... but I feel like he’s building up to hit us with a ’You two better take over next week’ speech. And he’ll do it while smiling."

"Probably." Richard shrugged. "Until HR gets its own room—and staff—we’re stuck juggling everything. Server rooms, HR, admin offices. We’re lucky the interns finished the dev wing."

Jack raised his cup. "And the QA setup."

Richard frowned slightly. "QA’s temporary. We’ll have to rotate the devs into testing until we get a dedicated team."

Jack leaned in, voice low. "Anyway man, you got any news on the mansion’s culprit?"

Richard didn’t look up from his plate. "Yeah. Lina traced a lead. The guy’s a former Delta. Spec ops. Mcknight’s name is fake, but the profile lines up."

Jack’s brow furrowed. "You mean like... U.S. Delta Force?"

"Yep," Richard replied, tone flat. "Hardcore operator type. Lina tracked his movement bouncing between Iligan and Cagayan the last few days. Quiet. Methodical. He’s definitely doing sleeper-agent shit."

Jack whistled softly. "Damn. That dude’s probably watching ."

Richard nodded once. "If grandpa finishes his interrogation soon, I’ll have Mario coordinate a capture op. This Mcknight guy—whoever he is—can’t vanish again. If he slips out of the country, we might never get another chance."

Jack frowned. "Bro, just ask Grandpa. You know he’s got people. Let them handle it."

"I know. I will," Richard said. He finally set his fork down and leaned back. "But if this guy’s half as good as his record says... it’s a risk to let too many people in on it. If anyone tips him off, we’re screwed."

Jack sighed. "That’s fair. But still, the guy’s a spec ops, you think he won’t he’s being watched—"

"—we won’t until we try," Richard cut in. "we have to catch this guy and ask him who’s pulling behind the strings."

The room buzzed around them, the low hum of chatter and dishes clinking, but their corner at the table felt like a different world.

Jack leaned back, uneasy. "You think he’s working alone?"

Richard looked at his friend, then at his mother chatting across the hall. His eyes hardened.

"Currently yes, he’s alone for now. They’re probably laying low after what happened. "

Richard leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the desk. "He’s probably waiting for new orders. I’m guessing they’ll move the moment we launch Phoenix AI. Five, six months from now—maybe sooner if we get this company fully up and running."

Jack nodded. "Yeah. And we’ve got three major launches breathing down our necks."

"Multiplayer update for the game," Richard said, counting on his fingers.

"Right," Jack replied. "And we’re not even close. No server infra. No login auth system. No anti-cheat framework either. Plus, we still need to test it end-to-end."

"Vector Core’s public release," Richard added. "We’re barely finalizing license tiers."

"And don’t forget Phoenix Model’s licensing," Jack sighed. "We’ve only got on-prem options right now, and Microsoft, Sony, Ubisoft, Tencent—they’re all chewing through our inbox about the upfronts.

Richard went quiet, thinking.

Then, "How about we release a demo?"

Jack looked at him. "Of?"

"A conversational AI. Like a public-facing version of Phoenix. Just something lightweight, maybe like a Siri replacement. We drop it on Android, Windows... skip Apple for now. They’ll never let it run native. You know how they are."

Jack perked up. "Like a virtual assistant?"

"Exactly. Real-time, adaptive, learns from user context. Phoenix-Lite. A demo, but one that actually works better than anything else out there. We start small, generate buzz while we finish setting up."

"And build trust before the real product hits. Smart."

"We get the server room configured starting tomorrow," Richard said, more to himself than Jack. "Seven days, we’ll have a managed cloud up. Maybe less."

Jack leaned back, arms crossed. "You’re betting a lot on a soft launch."

"I’m betting on the fact that people will see what real AI actually feels like. Not chatbot scripts. Not presets. Something that actually thinks."

Jack gave a crooked grin. "Do you think it’ll generate a buzz?"

Richard smirked. "Oh, you have idea.."