Business Proposal Webtoon Novels & Stories

Maxton replied lightly and just went back to his food like he didn’t just set my nerves on fire. Dinner was already uncomfortable. And just when I thought it couldn’t get more uncomfortable, my stepdad dropped the kind of news that made my fork freeze midair. “You know that new business my company and I have been working on?” he began, way too casually for what came next. “It’s called VibeVault, a lifestyle and merch brand for young creators, built around trends, self-expression, and digital community.” I nodded slowly, still chewing, having no idea where this was going.

He wrangled Darius into helping him with the dialogue for the pages while he does all the art himself. So far, they only post one page a week on WebToons, but they’ve gotten quite the following. There’s even been talk that once they have enough pages completed about publishing a physical copy. Riko loves getting to read each new page as it’s published. She doesn’t peek or ask to see the pages before they get uploaded.

He smiled at me, I hope he didn't get any wrong idea because I didn't mean that. "Then, what it is?", the Jason guy asked me putting his face on his palm. I pulled out some paper from my bag. I was prepared for such things too when I and Aiden submitted the application we came up with a business proposal too which is a lot better than the one Z Company is offering them. "These are the documents for the proposal I as a representative of White Current want to present. I will explain the main points in short to you.", I said placing the file in front of him, with a polite smile.

“We’re going with this: what’s on the TV isn’t an arrest. It’s a skit.” “A what?” “I’m dead serious, Alex. In fact, you own the skit company.” I stare at him, hot sweat pouring down my chest. “You’re not serious.” He is. He slides a slim folder across the desk. It contains incorporation papers, trademarks, a glossy one-sheet for something called “Logan Pulse Creative.” I flip it open. The company supposedly specializes in viral skits, TikTok challenges, art promotion, music-video production, the whole chaotic ecosystem of internet fame. And according to this fiction, I’m the eccentric billionaire owner who decided to star in one of his own productions to “prove it sells.”

At the discussion table, Benjamin straightened his tie and spoke with energy. "This is the vision I bring," he explained, walking Gordon through the proposal. "It’s innovative, scalable, and designed for the next generation. With proper funding, we can launch within months. This invitation isn’t just to raise capital, but to give forward-thinking companies the chance to be part of something groundbreaking." Gordon flipped a page slowly, feigning disinterest. "Hmm. I see." "If you’d like," Benjamin added quickly, "I can walk you through the full projection model. It will demonstrate potential returns, market penetration, and scalability in more detail."

I closed my eyes and let out a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding. Convincing them was no small feat. These were experienced investors, high stakes at play. They needed to see real numbers—web traffic numbers, ad impressions, projected returns. This was more than emotion. This was business. I had stood in that room, facing board members whose faces were stern. Some looked skeptical when I mentioned “webcomic.” I said: "Her mind is your power. Each subscriber pays. Each view counts. Each collaboration adds revenue. And more than money? You gain goodwill. Community loyalty."