"Keep the source private," Adam said.
He was still standing inside the old lab, looking at Shinju after her question about the chips. "Whatever route we use to bring in the chips, I want it kept out of official legal records as much as possible."
That did not reduce Shinju's concern.
If anything, it deepened it.
Her expression did not change much, but Adam caught the extra caution in her eyes immediately. He had already hidden his name, hidden his position, and now he was telling her that the supply line itself should stay buried too.
That was not normal.
Shinju looked toward Kenji.
Adam noticed it and almost frowned.
'Are they already speaking with just their eyes?' Adam thought.
Kenji gave the slightest shift of expression, then looked back at Adam.
"Before we go deeper," he said, "we should talk about salary."
Adam blinked once. "Salary?"
Kenji nodded. "I forgot to raise it earlier."
For a second Adam said nothing, and Kenji took that silence as permission to continue.
"I've saved a little money from part-time jobs," Kenji said. "So I can manage for some time. I don't want salary right now. I want shares in the company instead."
Adam stared at him.
That was not a small request.
Before he could answer, Shinju stepped in as well.
"And don't misunderstand," she said calmly. "We're not trying to force anything. We just see potential here, and if we're going to climb with this company, we want to climb with a real stake in it. I want a percentage too."
For a moment, Adam was genuinely surprised.
He had expected payments, not ownership.
Then, almost immediately a practical thought rose behind that surprise.
This was better.
Much better.
'Good. The less cash I have to push into them immediately, the better.' Adam thought.
He still had money, but he wanted that money used carefully and as far away from dangerous attention as possible. The faster it moved through other channels, the safer it became for him. Handing too much of it directly into this project too early would only tighten risks he was trying to spread out.
At the same time, shares would bind them more tightly to the company's future. Salary bought work. Shares bought commitment.
And in Adam's situation, commitment was worth more than temporary comfort right now.
So Adam gave a small nod.
"I honestly didn't expect both of you to ask for shares," he said. "But if that's what you want, then fine."
Kenji and Shinju exchanged a quick look, then both smiled, though Shinju's smile remained far more controlled.
"Good," she said. "Then I'll begin the legal paperwork with that structure in mind."
She was already reorganizing things in her head. Ownership division. Hidden authority. Risk walls. Operational control. Public face and private power.
Then Kenji rubbed his hands together once and looked around the room.
"In that case," he said, "let's start renovating the office."
Adam raised a hand at once. "Wait."
Both of them turned toward him.
Adam slipped a hand into his coat and pulled out two blank white slips of paper.
The same kind.
The same unsettlingly plain kind he had used before.
When he held them out, both Kenji and Shinju looked confused.
"Write your numbers," Adam said. "I'll contact you."
Kenji frowned. Shinju narrowed her eyes slightly.
In a normal situation, numbers would have gone straight into a phone. That was obvious. But at this point both of them had already understood that nothing around Wil was normal.
Neither asked too much.
Kenji took one paper. Shinju took the other.
Shinju wrote first, her handwriting sharp and clean. Kenji followed a moment later, quicker and rougher. Then both handed the slips back.
Adam folded them once and put them away.
No phone came out.
That silence hung there long enough to feel strange, but Shinju simply adjusted the file under her arm and said, "Fine. I'll leave first. I need to start preparing the documents."
Kenji nodded. "All right."
Shinju gave Adam one last measuring look before stepping out.
When she was gone, the room felt quieter at once.
Kenji turned toward Adam with a grin that carried more relief than confidence.
For him, this was real now.
Then Adam looked at him and spoke in a flat, serious tone.
"You have the wrong idea if you think I'm staying here with you."
Kenji's smile vanished.
Adam was already turning toward the exit.
He had no intention of spending long hours in one visible place, especially not in the same disguise tied to too many meetings already. Staying here would only make it easier for the wrong eyes to connect lines that should have remained separate.
That made Kenji stare for one full second before the meaning hit him.
"What?" he shouted. "You mean I have to do all of this myself?"
The shock in his voice was so open that Adam almost smiled.
Almost.
Instead, he kept walking.
Kenji looked around the empty lab, at the old counters, the dust.
Then he looked back at Adam's retreating figure.
His expression dropped.
Very quickly, the excitement that had been carrying him a moment ago ran into the weight of reality.
Kenji dragged a hand down his face.
He looked almost genuinely depressed already.
Adam reached the door and finally spoke without turning around.
"You took shares," he said. "That means this work is yours now too."
Then he stepped out and left him there alone.