World's Richest Man: I Leaped Across Time

"Talks?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "But isn't it a requirement that I write a thesis?"

Professor Blake nodded, but there was a gleam in his eye. "Technically, yes. But if you prepare well for the talks, or lectures, if you prefer to call them that, we can transcribe the talks into a thesis. I've already cleared it with the university board."

I thought about it for a moment. "Well, I have nothing against it. I could talk about what to look for in start-ups or how to use branding to increase interest and revenue."

He smiled. "Those are excellent topics, Jack. They fit perfectly with the specialization."

We agreed on it, but I still had one question. "Where would I give the talks?"

"I can give you three months to prepare. Let's set the dates for May 21st and 28th, right before exams. After all, you'll need to focus on passing all your classes. You've still got some third-year courses to finish, and then all of your fourth-year ones."

I agreed with the plan, and after saying goodbye, I left the hall.

After leaving the economics building, I made my way across campus to the next lecture on my schedule—a philosophy class. It wasn't a requirement for my degree, but I was taking it for extra credits. Something different to stretch my brain in new ways.

I slipped into the hall just as the professor was getting started.

Students lounged in their seats, some with laptops open, others with notebooks, some half-listening to the professor who was pacing the front.

The professor was a tall man with a salt-and-pepper beard.

He looked at me as I entered and his gaze followed me as I found a seat near the back.

I didn't think much of it until...

"Let me ask all of you something," the professor said, stopping mid-step. "Do you think true freedom is possible? Can humans ever truly live without being controlled?"

'This... of all topics...' I thought.

A few students raised their hands, and a brief back-and-forth ensued. Some said yes, others no, but the professor didn't seem satisfied with any of the answers.

Then his eyes locked on me again. "Mr. Somnus. I'm curious. Someone like you… How do you feel about power? Controlling others—not for selfish reasons, of course—but to guide them.

To show them what's right."

'He never asked targeted questions like this...'I thought.

The room went quiet. I leaned back in my chair, thinking about what to say. "I'm not interested in being anyone's puppet master," I said, keeping my voice level. "People should have the right to make their own choices. What I want is to be free from others controlling me and wealth makes that possible."

The professor crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as if trying to pick apart my answer. "But what if people lose their minds? What if, given the freedom to do whatever they want, they descend into hedonism or stagnation?"

"People's minds aren't simple, but it's not about hard labor being the key to a good life." I said. "It's when people lose purpose that they fall apart—not because they're free, but because they don't have a reason to get out of bed in the morning."

"Interesting. But don't you think that's a bit idealistic? There are jobs and responsibilities that keep society functioning. If everyone did what they wanted, who'd take care of the essential work?"

"Soon, a lot of those jobs will be handled by machines." I replied. "Society should prepare for that transition."

"Yhym... I see." Professor rubbed his chin. "But going back for a second. You said that wealth gives freedom. But doesn't it also give you influence over people and over markets? Whether you want to admit it or not, it puts you in a position tocontrolothers.

Even if you don't actively seek it."

I was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"So, Mr. Somnus, be honest with me." He continued. "Have you ever wanted tocontrolothers? Doesn't that tempt you?"

It didn't feel like a philosophy class anymore—it felt more like someone had set me up to see how I'd respond. The students seemed to sense that the professor was acting strange.

"No," I said firmly. "I don't want to control anyone. I think that people, be they wealthy or poor, should have the freedom to live their lives without being exploited, manipulated, or coerced."

'That's not entirely true...' I thought.

Humanity has taken centuries to figure out which systems lead to greater productivity.

Controlis needed.

I was just giving a diplomatic take.

"That's a noble answer. But let me ask you one last thing. You've got wealth, investments, power. Do you feel like you've achieved this 'freedom' you're talking about? What aboutthe government? Doesn't it control you?

Don't you think that the ones to make the decisions should be the smartest, most capable people—people like you?"

"Me...? I barely have time to take all my classes." I said half-sarcasticly. "But no. I don't think that 'the wealthy' should be making the decisions for the nation. It should be the people with the right knowledge. And it's true that our leaders often don't have the necessary knowledge."

The professor gave a small, almost amused smile. "Okay, Mr. Somnus. It was great to listen to your thoughts. A lot of interesting takes today."

Well... it's all just empty words to me.

Hierarchy and control are the basic rules of the animal kingdom.

But it seems odd that this was the first lecture's subject.

The professor was clearly trying to instill liberal values in students.

At the end of the lecture, just as I was packing my things, the guy sitting next to me nudged me. "Here, that's for you."

I looked down at the small, folded note he handed me. "What's this?"

He shrugged. "No clue. Some guy at the end of the row passed it along." He nodded toward the far side of the lecture hall.

I glanced down the row, and just as I did, a guy slipped out of the door, disappearing into the hallway. Strange.

Unfolding the note, I read the message: "You seem like an okay guy. Let's talk. Come to the faculty's café."

'What?' I thought.

I hid the note in my pocket and walked out of the hall.

Who could have written this?

I pulled the note back out and I stared at it.

This casual language...

This scribbly writing style...

Wait...

Zero?

Oh hell nah. There is no way I'm going to that café alone.

I glanced over my shoulder at Peter, one of my bodyguards, trailing a few meters behind me. He was a solid guy.

I slowed my pace so he could catch up. "Peter," I said quietly. "I'm heading to the café. I need you to stand right beside me when we get there."

He clearly picked up on my serious tone. "Understood."

For a second, I considered calling the police right there. But… I was curious.

...

I walked into the cafeteria. This place was actually pretty nice—clean, bright, with cozy seating. Felt more like a café you'd find downtown than a random uni cafeteria.

After buying myself a coffee, I sat down on a sofa by one of the tables.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I sawher. She walked in, her long, dark hair swaying with every step. She was wearing the same white skirt and black corset-style top.

It was Ava. That strange, free-willed girl.

'Jesus Christ.' I facepalmed myself for even thinking Zero wrote that message.

She stood across from me. "Hi Jack, nice to see you again," she said casually.

I shot her a look. "So, you left me that note? You seriously still on about that charity thing?"

"Meh, that was just a joke. I had to test you a little... Just like the professor did."

My face went from amused to dead serious in an instant. "Did you set that up?"

She nodded. "I did. But now I know you're cool." she was still smiling like it was no big deal.

"Okay, don't fuck around with me. Who are you?"

"I'm Ava, of course," she said, and then glanced at Peter. "By the way, do we really need the bodyguards here?"

"We do. I'm not convinced you don't have any weapons on you. You seem a bit crazy."

Her grin widened. "You can check me."

"Don't mind me if I will."

I waved Peter over.

Peter gave me a quick nod, then moved in. He slowly patted her down, while Ava just smirked, making no effort to hide her amusement.

Once Peter was done, he stepped back, confirming she was clean.

I glanced at him. "You can hang outside the café, but keep an eye on us, okay?"

Peter nodded and stepped out, standing near the entrance where he could still see us.

I looked back at Ava.

'I'm not about to ask her if she's connected to Zero, cause if she's not, that would just make me look—"

"I'm Zero," she said with a sly smile, cutting my thoughts off.