CHAPTER 72: CHAPTER 81: FREE THINGS ARE THE MOST EXPENSIVE

Finally, he arrived!

After the plane landed in New York once again, Li Yi’an was elated. The embassy in London had sent a telegram to China, and soon instructions came from home, directing the National Defense Supply Company in New York to handle the negotiations.

He needed to kick open that door. In the past, he had no leverage, but today was different.

With these supplies, he could almost get anything he wanted.

Besides approval for the immigration agreement, he also needed cooperation in all aspects—supplies!

Why could China go out of its way to curry favor with the Americans? Wasn’t it because the Americans had supplies?

As long as those people saw something to gain from him, they would do everything possible to cooperate. Without their cooperation, it would be impossible to relocate millions of people from China!

Not just hundreds of thousands, not just a million, but tens of millions!

As many people as possible!

Population is the foundation of everything. With people, you have everything.

After all, there are hundreds of millions of people over there. Without enough people, everything is just empty talk, and it might even end up benefiting others!

As for those German rifles and Soviet cannons on the ship, they were just a pile of scrap metal—nothing to fuss about.

Weapons... After the war, there would be even more.

Not to mention, there would be hundreds of thousands of STG44s lying around waiting to be picked up. Postwar Europe would be littered with planes, tanks, and cannons.

To be honest, except for fighting the Japanese, Li Yi’an really couldn’t think of any other use for this scrap metal.

In the future, even the company’s army would at least be equipped with the M1 Garand and M1 Carbines.

If you don’t have enough manpower, make up for it with firepower.

"We can first find a way to get them to provide the first batch of people."

But this was only the first step. These arms had an even greater use—if used properly, they could even help accomplish something big.

Everyone calculates what they can get from others, especially after they’ve given something themselves.

That’s human nature.

As Li Yi’an gazed at the Manhattan skyline from the airplane cabin, pondering how to maximize the impact of these weapons and perhaps leverage them to achieve something even bigger, a train in northern New York, which had stopped at a station to give way, started moving again.

The steel wheels clattered rhythmically along the tracks. A middle-aged man wearing gold-rimmed glasses was flipping through a report.

No one knew how much time had passed before the middle-aged man looked up from the page in his hand.

"So, both times we’ve worked with him, everything went very smoothly?"

Putting down the document, he took a cigarette from a case. Although the previous two orders had been important, he hadn’t personally gotten involved—there were just too many such matters.

"Yes, we chose him at the time because he delivered quickly and was one of the few manufacturers willing to take our orders."

General Jiang replied respectfully.

Even though he was a general, in front of this imperial relative, he was still extremely cautious.

"It does seem that way."

Nodding, he took a puff of his cigarette and said,

"But this is completely different from before. So much material... Forget about any one person—even the United States might not be able to give us so much."

The reason he had rushed to New York by train was because the content of that telegram was simply too shocking.

"Have you ever heard of anyone producing so much material at once?"

"This has never happened before."

General Jiang...

The military man shook his head.

It was Song Peilun, standing to the side, who interjected.

"Sir, I think he might have some special channels—who knows?"

"Special channels?"

The Imperial Uncle frowned and said,

"That’s not important. Gu Shaochuan’s telegram has already caused a huge stir back home. All circles in the country now know that a patriotic overseas Chinese has donated a large amount of military supplies, and the country is indeed in urgent need of these supplies. In recent years, India has always been choking us on military necessities. They’d rather let aid materials for China get soaked in the rain in India than send them on. It’s been two years, and they’ve only shipped a damn thousand rifles..."

He took a hard drag of his cigarette and said,

"If there really are so many supplies, and these aren’t American aid materials, then that guy naturally can’t intercept them anymore, can’t use the supplies to choke us. If we can get them back home, it’ll at least solve an urgent need."

"Sir, you’re absolutely right. If this is true, our soldiers at home will bleed a little less!"

General Jiang’s words made everyone nod in deep agreement. The Imperial Uncle took off his horn-rimmed glasses, held them up to the light, then put them back on.

"If this is true..."

He paused, took another drag of his cigarette, and gazed down at the telegram.

"Then the remaining question is... what does he want from us? After all, there’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world!"

What does he want?

We’re talking about supplies worth hundreds of millions of dollars!

Who would provide so much for nothing?

And for free, at that!

But the Imperial Uncle, well-versed in the ways of the world, knew that the most expensive thing in the world is "free."

"Where is his company located?"

"88th floor, Empire State Building."

The Imperial Uncle’s surprise was exactly why Pierre moved his company to the Empire State Building—a famous office location that gives outsiders the impression of grandeur.

With the new year approaching, Zhenhua Corporation had upgraded from last year’s ragtag operation to a company with over a hundred employees, and had moved into the Empire State Building. At this time, about a third of the Empire State Building’s floors were vacant, with rent so cheap it was almost criminal.

The next morning, the Imperial Uncle and his entourage arrived at the Empire State Building.

In the spacious conference room, as the Imperial Uncle sized up Pierre, Pierre was also sizing up this famous Imperial Uncle.

This guy... is a notorious corrupt official.

Is it reliable to hand the supplies over to him...?

Oh, right—not hand over, but negotiate with. The transportation and delivery of the supplies would be handled by himself. If you don’t keep the tap running slowly, how could you get them to cooperate?

But on the other hand... corruption is rampant over there, too!

But then again, these are guns and ammunition. They can’t exactly take them to the black market to sell, can they?

"Mr. Pierre, to have achieved so much at such a young age—you are truly the pride of the Chinese people."

Faced with the Imperial Uncle’s flattery, Pierre smiled and said,

"Mr. Song, you’re too kind. It was just a matter of luck and timing. When luck comes, nothing can stop it."

Sometimes, luck explains everything. Especially when there’s no other explanation—Pierre couldn’t exactly say it was all thanks to the system, right?

In fact, even the system is a matter of luck.

After some polite small talk, the Imperial Uncle finally got down to business and asked,

"We previously received a secret telegram from the embassy in the UK, saying that Mr. Li intends to donate a large amount of military supplies to China—up to ten thousand tons?"

"That’s not correct."

Pierre’s words made the Imperial Uncle and the others freeze for a moment, but then they all breathed a sigh of relief.

I knew it—who would donate that much?

The previously respectful Imperial Uncle leaned back slightly, visibly relaxing.

After all, dealing with ordinary people and dealing with billionaires are two very different mindsets.

Just then, a light remark drifted into the Imperial Uncle’s ears.

"It’s eighty thousand tons."

The Imperial Uncle was shocked.

"What?!"

He actually stood up in surprise, and even Zhu Yihai and the others stared at their boss in disbelief.

Eighty thousand tons of military supplies!

Is this kid pulling our leg?

That’s eighty thousand tons!

In an instant, everyone’s eyes were on Pierre, and all sorts of thoughts flashed through their minds.

In the spacious conference room, the atmosphere became a bit strange—the only sound was everyone’s breathing.

Under their gaze, Pierre took out a cigarette and a lighter.

Click!

At the crisp metallic sound of the lighter, the Imperial Uncle snapped back to his senses, took a deep breath, and said,

"Is... is it true?"

Lighting his cigarette and taking a drag, Pierre shook his head.

"No, actually, it should be 87,562 tons."

Sending this batch of arms back to China wasn’t just to help the war effort—there was an even more important purpose: to legitimize the protagonist’s rule over North Borneo, which required certain events to push it forward.

The arms and the homeland were just part of the plot... The real goal was, hmm, founding a nation overseas!!