Ideas Are Bulletproof Novels & Stories

"How?! How is that possible?!" Both the motel owner and the middle-aged man could feel their jaws dropping. There were two ways that an Ascendant-ranked individual was impervious to bullets—most of them were quick enough to dodge it, while the minority were durable enough to be bulletproof. However, the motel owner's gun and bullets were supposedly different and could overcome those! "What's impossible about it? You're ignorant, aren't you?" Vaporizing the motel owner's gun with just a thought, Frank whipped out the pendant and waved it at him, asking, "Can you tell me who made this now?"

And some other things are simply to be left broken to remind us of our human limitations or most probably the inconvenience attached to it which just shows how our lives evolved to date. However, even the brightest ideas meet great resistance. The most likely reason is the evident inability of people to disturb and disrupt what has been and is perpetually practiced. We cannot simply rock the boat in an open ocean without causing concentric and eccentric ripples. When this rippling effect gathers enough momentum, it increases speed, sometimes shifts direction before it suddenly dissipates. Still, when we firmly believe that justice is at stake, we take a stand regardless of being outnumbered

" Lola giggle. All panel doesn't know their Master watch and listen, the ability Stealthmode for some reason not be given to them. "Okay, next!" "I wrote a 40.000-page n***l, the book has never been published." "And then?" "That's only my imagination." "Sigh, pass." "What pass mean?" "Success, next." "The more problems that come, the stronger you are, so multiply the problems in your life." "The point is?" "The key to being tough: multiply the problem."

“That’s rare.” “I earned it,” I responded. Adrian smirked. “Everybody earns. Not everybody keeps. What makes you different?” “I know what it’s like to not have anything. To be told you’d never amount to anything. So every decision I make is from the standpoint of: ‘I will NEVER be in that position again.’ My company doesn’t sell stats, brochures or cheatsheets. We sell self belief and a guarantee, because when people look at me, they know we mean it.”

The young man said to me once he was done projecting his idea. "Hmm..interesting. But what is the guarantee that if we imply your ideas and still gain nothing? What are the risk factors? You didn't mention them." I said leaning comfortably on my chair. "Ma'am, we're talking about the future and the risk we can take not the risk factors. If we keep playing safe, we can't know if there's a booster for our success out there in the fast changing market." The young man looked offended. "Sorry, Mr. Hart. Did you mention that you are graduated from Stanford?" I pointed my pen at him.

"Businesses don't bank on promises, Camilla. I'm one, and I work with facts." "But what about our idea, Elvis? It's a game-changer. It's the future! If we can get a firm to invest in us, we can turn things around." Elvis's face softened slightly. "You really believe that, don't you?" "Absolutely," I replied, my voice filled with conviction. "I've done my research. I know that this idea has the potential to be huge." "And what if it's not?" Elvis asked, his skepticism resurfacing. "What if we invest in this idea and it flops?"

She raised her glass to the reflection of the old woman standing there. "To art," she toasted. "And to the free market." She drank the cognac. It burned going down. The family thought they were safe. They thought the walls were high enough. But they forgot that ideas didn't need doors. Ideas could fly. And Isabella had just launched a flock of vultures.

“But that’s what he expects. He knows you’re smart. He knows you’re prepared. So he’s going to try to throw you off balance emotionally, not logically.” Grayson blinked. “How do you know that?” “Because that’s what bullies do,” I said simply. “They can’t win on merit, so they win by making you doubt yourself.” He stared at me for a long moment. Then he smiled—genuine and a little amazed. “You’re right.” “I know,” I said. “So stop trying to predict his every move and just focus on your truth. What you’ve built. What you believe in. Why you’re the right person to lead this company.”

“But that’s what he expects. He knows you’re smart. He knows you’re prepared. So he’s going to try to throw you off balance emotionally, not logically.” Grayson blinked. “How do you know that?” “Because that’s what bullies do,” I said simply. “They can’t win on merit, so they win by making you doubt yourself.” He stared at me for a long moment. Then he smiled—genuine and a little amazed. “You’re right.” “I know,” I said. “So stop trying to predict his every move and just focus on your truth. What you’ve built. What you believe in. Why you’re the right person to lead this company.”

“Why do people do such horrible things? Blowing up people and causing mass killings. Sometimes I wonder if I’m actually cut out for this type of work.” A bolt of fury surged through Ysiah when he heard the naïve words of the young man, but he told himself that Zinc was green and hadn’t been out in the field long. “People do horrible things because of ideology. Their belief system is more correct than the others. Theirs is superior. Theirs must be the one followed. They might even think they’re doing the world a favor by getting rid of the undesirables.” “Like these prisoners?”