Chapter 138: Seed
I sat down across from Mark Zuckerberg, studying him for a moment. He was only in his early twenties, but already he had that focused, intense look of someone who lived and breathed his work.
His messy brown hair fell over his forehead.
"So," Mark started, breaking the silence with a flat tone, "why are you interested in this project? It's still in development. I haven't even finished it yet."
I leaned back, relaxed but with purpose. "I've been in tech for a while. I started PlayTube, a video-sharing platform that's connecting people. It's doing pretty well."
Mark's gaze stayed on me.
"On top of that," I continued, "I've made a few investments that paid off big. Like Google, for example. The point is, Mark, that if something grabs my attention, be it a complete product or just an idea, I know to trust my gut."
"Well, Google's been down last time I checked," he said, smirking a little.
"Yeah, that's a global issue right now. I'm pretty sure you're up to date, so you should know what's going on... We're hoping it'll get sorted soon."
Mark's smirk faded as he considered my words. "Alright, but why my project? It's just supposed to be an online face book for Harvard students."
"That's where I think you're selling yourself short, Mark. When I saw what you were working on, it clicked for me. In the most basic terms, your app is a platform where people can find each other, right?"
Mark nodded.
"Why not expand on that idea? Make it an app where people can share their lives. Something like a blog, where you could see what your family or friends have been doing, what they want to share. Think beyond Harvard. Think globally. Millions of people could be using this to find others like them—whether that's for business, friendship, or even love."
Mark's face was still hard to read, but I could see him considering it. "That's… more than I had in mind," he finally said. "I thought it'd be useful for students to check out each other's profiles; maybe connect for events or study groups."
"Really? You weren't checking out some cute girls' profiles? Maybe thinking about contacting them?"
"Haha." A small, stiff laugh slipped out of him. "I mean... maybe."
"So you're telling me that didn't think it could be used for anything else?"
He hesitated, then admitted, "I've thought about it. But it's a lot of work. And right now, it's just me and a few other guys. Dustin Moskovitz is helping with coding, and Chris Hughes is involved with some of the outreach. But we're students. We're just doing this in our spare time."
I nodded. "I get it. It takes a lot of work to make something like this, and you are just getting it to work at Harvard right now. But let me tell you this: once people start using this, once it gains popularity, you won't be able to stop it. Other universities will want in. You're going to need to scale, and that's where you're going to run into trouble.
Before you know it, you'll need to start a company, and you'll need financing."
Mark stared down at the table, his fingers tapping the edge of his coffee cup.
He was sharp, no doubt about it. He just needed someone to push him in the right direction.
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"To show you how serious I am," I said, pulling out an envelope from my jacket, "I'm leaving you with a letter of intent. This is something known as a SAFE agreement. Simple Agreement for Future Equity. I want you to look through it."
He took the envelope, his eyes narrowing slightly as he opened it and glanced at the document inside.
His eyes widened when he reached a particular part.
"Two million dollars?!" His voice shot up, causing a few people in the café to glance over funny-faced.
"Two million," he repeated, quieter this time. "Why would you invest that kind of money into this?"
I smiled. "That's right, I'm offering two million. I'm also offering you the experience of my team at PlayTube. We know how to build platforms, scale them up quickly, and deal with the issues that come with rapid growth. But in exchange, I want 41% of the company. "
He looked at the paper again, then back at me. "Two million is a lot of money. What do you think we could spend it on?"
"Servers, infrastructure, marketing—you need to be ready for the explosion that's coming when this thing goes viral. And it will, trust me. You will need to move fast before the competition arrives."
Mark still seemed unsure. He sat back in his chair, clearly mulling it over. "41 percent... That's a big decision to make for something that's not even fully built yet."
"I'm not here to rush you," I said, "but think about it. You can keep working with your current plan—build the servers, launch it at Harvard. But once other schools start asking for it, you'll need the capital to scale quickly. Better to be ready than scrambling when it happens, and getting a better offer than this at the stage you'll be at, that's going to be hard, believe me."
Mark didn't say anything for a moment.
"So," I said, breaking the silence, "what did you want to call this app anyway? Wirehog?"
He nodded. "Yeah, that was one of the names I was thinking about."
I shook my head, smiling. "What about just 'Facebook'? Simple, clean. It gets to the point."
He looked at me, considering it for a moment. "Facebook…" he repeated, as if testing the word in his mouth.
"Think about it," I said, standing up to leave. "The world's going to know that name. If you make the right moves." I extended my hand toward him. "All the contact info you need is in that letter of intent."
Mark glanced up, then slowly reached out and shook my hand. "Yeah," he said, nodding, "I'll talk with the rest of the team first."
I smiled. "Take your time. I hope we see each other again."
I could see that Mark wasn't fully on board yet, but I knew I'd planted the seed.
I left the café and the cool breeze hit me as I walked down the street.
Next I decided to drop by the office at Immortal Investments. I knew the FBI had been paying close attention to my connection with this company, but... I was just working here...
As I walked up to the tall skyscraper on Court Street a wave of pride hit me.
Immortal Investments had come a long way from that small, rented office. Now, we had the entire 26th floor—a massive 12,000-square-foot space that we'd picked up for just over $4 million.
The team at the main branch had grown to around 30 traders. It was surreal to see how much things had changed.
As I walked by the desks, I noticed some familiar faces—three traders that I met for the first time a few months ago, and whose names I did not remember just as I predicted.
They were now team leaders.
Clara, Ilia, and Mike. I read their names off a document.
I went to Derec's office. He was sitting at his desk, focused on his computer screen, but looked up as I knocked on the doorframe.
"Got a minute, Derec?" I asked, stepping in.
"Jack! Of course, of course."
"Is Britney around today?" I asked as I sat down across him.
"No, she's working evenings. She's at MIT."
"Yhym," I muttered, thinking back to the last time I'd seen her.
I only met her once, two months ago, and she was surprised that I was working here.
When Derec told her that I recommended her, her reaction was... unreadable. I think she was disappointed.
"So, why did you drop by?" Derec asked.
"You just finished selling off Cal-Meine. Have you thought about where to reallocate that cash?"
"Actually, yes. For example, Google is planning to go public, so I was thinking we save some cash to invest in them."
I raised my eyebrows. "You know I already have a position in Google, right?"
"Yes. But more is good, no?"
"No."
He blinked twice. "Really?"
"Don't buy Google. I want to buy more myself."
"Ah... okay. Anyway, Apple had some recent product launches. And we could look at Microsoft—they have strong fundamentals."
"Boring, Derec. It's boring." I waved my hand dismissively.
"Boring?"
"Yeah. Think outside the box. Look around for something that could blow the fuck up."
"Ymm... Jack, you're the genius here. If you have something on your mind, say it. We're probably going to allocate over $100 million for short-term trading, but aside from the $25 million we invested in Skype and $9.8 million we put into Tesla, we have over $200 million in cash."
I thought for a moment. 'Don't worry, Derec. It's going to be 2004, the year that in my past life marked the moment that I truly got interested in the market.'
"Did you look at steel prices?" I asked.
"No," Derec shook his head.
"They're on the rise," I said. "Prices for raw materials like scrap steel and iron ore are going up because of an increased demand from developing economies, especially China. And the way things are between the US and China right now, this trend could be good for US business. Plus, there's a construction boom because of rising housing prices."
"So you want me to invest in construction companies?"
"No, that's way too risky. You never know how they'll perform. Instead, put the money into companies selling steel wire. In particular, look into Insteel Industries; they are expanding quickly."
Derec nodded, starting to jot down notes. "Got it."
"Also," I started, then hesitated. "Look into online travel booking."
Derec looked up. "Really? You think that's a good idea?"
I paused, thinking. 'In my previous life, TravelZoo was a stock that went up 2000% in one year. But... with the worry of possible war... that might never happen.'
"No, forget it," I said, shaking my head. "Stick to steel wire."
"Understood."
...
After leaving Immortal Investments, I headed out for dinner.
I took a flight back to Gainessvile later that evening.
By the time I arrived home, it was just before midnight.
As I walked through the door, I noticed the lights still on. Charlotte was up, waiting for me.
I threw my stuff onto the floor and headed straight to the kitchen. There, I saw the invitation letter from earlier lying on the table where I had left it.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the letter.
Maybe I should call tomorrow...