The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943
Chapter 42 - 43 – A Decision Made for His Ancestors

Chapter 42: Chapter 43 – A Decision Made for His Ancestors

Sitting on the balcony of the Hotel Nacional in Havana, staring out at the turquoise sea and the distant coconut trees, Pierre began calculating in his mind.

Submachine guns were only the beginning. Next, he could provide more weapons—machine guns, maybe even artillery.

"Mortars are great. That Soviet 120mm mortar, for example—very effective and cheap..."

Once his imagination was unleashed, he wasn’t just thinking about simple weapons anymore. Fixing his gaze on the coconut trees lining the shore and the beautiful tropical scenery before him, a flash of insight lit up his face with a confident smile.

"Yes, now that’s the real stuff!"

Just then, someone approached his table.

"Hello, Miss Song."

Pierre stood up and pulled out a chair.

"Thank you, Young Li."

Song Bing expressed her gratitude. In fact, she knew exactly why her father had sent her to handle the negotiations—because... he was young, and close to her in age.

However, he didn’t seem interested in her at all. From the moment they’d met until now, he’d always maintained basic courtesy—polite, but distant.

Does he already have a lover?

What does it matter to me if he does! Hmph!

Song Bing glanced at the man beside her out of the corner of her eye. Indeed... he was quite handsome.

Still... It has nothing to do with me.

She was just using this opportunity to practice her English. She didn’t speak Mandarin, only Cantonese. He didn’t understand Cantonese, so they could only communicate in English.

Collecting herself, she spoke.

"Young Master Li, my father has already arranged for the sugar to be delivered to the warehouse—just like last time, 1,300 tons in total."

Pierre smiled.

"Are you sure it’s 1,300?"

Seeing her confused expression, he explained:

"Last time the shipment was already over by 200 tons. I suspect it’s the same this time. Mr. Song is generous, and I can’t take advantage of that. Besides, I plan to expand the scale of this business. I’d like to request 4,500 tons for the next shipment."

"4,500 tons?!"

What concerned Song Bing more was the sudden increase in quantity.

"What’s wrong? Is that a problem?"

"No, no problem at all," she said, shaking her head.

"Young Master Li, do you really need that much?"

"Yes."

Pierre nodded.

"If all goes well, I’ll need two shipments a month—4,500 tons each time. That’s about 110,000 tons a year. When you get back, please discuss with your father whether he can meet that demand."

Actually, it might increase even more. After all, as his level rose, so would the size of his operations.

Especially now that he had broken into the arms business, leveling up would become almost effortless. One big deal could easily bring him tens of millions in experience points.

Now, Pierre couldn’t help but look forward to the "major level-up" ahead. Thinking of this, he picked up the Panama hat from the table.

"Miss Song, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading back."

What?!

Watching him rise to his feet, Song Bing was momentarily stunned. They had just finished discussing business—and now he was leaving!

"Young Master Li, then... goodbye!"

He really left!

Watching his figure retreat into the distance, Song Bing sat in her seat, momentarily dazed. He actually just walked off.

Whatever the girl behind him might have been thinking, Pierre didn’t care in the slightest. Of course he had to leave—reinforcements are as urgent as fighting fires!

No—this was a five-alarm fire. He had to return to the U.S. immediately to recruit talent, establish his lab, and most importantly—find someone.

Just a few hours later, Pierre arrived at Havana Airport. Wearing a beach outfit and his Panama hat, he was about to board when a newly arrived plane touched down. From the cabin window, a blonde woman caught sight of him and her eyes lit up.

"He’s here again?"

Seeing that he was boarding, she felt a wave of regret.

"He’s already leaving? Seriously..."

Pouting in frustration, her younger sister asked:

"Sis, I really don’t get why you come to Havana every weekend. Is it for the casino? But you don’t even like gambling."

"Once you’re married, you’ll understand... Yes, you’ll understand."

She didn’t answer the question. Her eyes were fixed on the man in the beach shirt and straw hat—the same man who once handed her a hundred-dollar bill.

He’s back in Havana!

Among the crowd of balding, overweight middle-aged men, he stood out—young and handsome. She couldn’t help but remember that night again—the one that haunted her dreams and stole her sleep.

"There he is... there he is..."

Just as excitement filled her chest, she was stunned to see the man actually boarding the plane.

My God... he’s gone...

By the time she disembarked, the United Airlines DC-3 had already taken off. Sitting on board, Pierre had no idea that his brief appearance at Havana Airport had left one woman in regret—nor that a one-night encounter would leave her so deeply entranced.

At that moment, he was jotting notes on a slip of paper—name after name. Finally, he wrote down one person’s name—first in Chinese, then several times in English. After verifying it again and again, he muttered:

"Yes, that’s right. It’s him. He should be at Caltech now... working on rubber... yes..."

With his exceptional memory, Pierre wrote down every detail he could recall from the data he’d once seen. Now, he had only one goal: recruit this man into his lab—or buy his patent.

"Looks like I’ll need to buy a chemical plant too. I wonder if there’s a suitable one available..."

Several hours later, the moment the plane landed, Pierre immediately made a phone call to Carl from the airport. The call was very straightforward: the company was to hire a lawyer to find someone at the California Institute of Technology.

Although transportation wasn’t highly developed in this era, thanks to the advanced communication networks and thriving legal industry in the United States, only a few telegrams were needed for Carl—on the East Coast—to reach an agreement with a law firm in Los Angeles.