Designing the Fright Away
The reason Li Daniu could casually speak of a sum as vast as one hundred billion dollars was simple: for him now, making money had become almost absurdly easy.
“Ha, my apologies, Your Majesty King Tarek. We may be designers who work for money, but we truly do not wish to see our work, because of funding troubles, end up half finished and become the greatest joke in the world. So, if you’ll excuse us, we won’t keep you.”
The designer who had just spoken abruptly smiled, threw out that remark, and left just like that.
And with his departure, three other representatives from three other design firms also found excuses and followed him out.
What the hell is going on? Li Daniu was stunned by the sudden turn of events. Only after all four firms had left did he realize what had happened: they were worried he didn’t have the money.
“And you?” Li Daniu looked at the remaining two firms and asked, “Why aren’t you leaving?”
“I’d like to ask Your Majesty King Tarek,” one designer said as he stood up, “how long do you think the construction of New Tuvalu will take? And by what means can the budget you mentioned, one hundred billion dollars, be guaranteed so that the funding chain will not break?”
The representative from the other firm, hearing those two questions, nodded as well and turned to look at Li Daniu.
“As for the construction timeline, naturally the faster the better. Of course, the development of New Tuvalu will never stop. Still, I hope that within five years at the latest, New Tuvalu can reach the state I just described,” Li Daniu said after a moment’s thought. “As for funding, I’m not at liberty to disclose details, but I believe there will absolutely be no problem with the capital chain breaking.”
After speaking, Li Daniu added silently in his heart: unless I die while traveling through the movie worlds, the resources I have now alone are enough to keep the capital flowing. Let alone the fact that I can still travel through those worlds.
“I understand. Thank you for your trust, but…” The designer did not finish. He shook his head and turned away directly. The last designer did not even speak to Li Daniu before leaving as well.
Five years. To reach the level Li Daniu had described within five years, it was not impossible for the investment to exceed one hundred billion dollars. After all, aside from natural resources, the Auckland Islands had nothing; every building material would have to be imported.
Not only would the cost of raw materials multiply, but Tuvalu’s population was also too small, so all labor would have to come from abroad, and the wages of those workers would be unimaginably high.
These designers understood Tuvalu’s national strength very well. The people had no income source beyond fishing and growing bananas and coconuts, and the country itself lacked any effective source of revenue.
And though Li Daniu, as king of Tuvalu, could pour his own money into the country, how much could one man possibly earn?
True, with a single book such as the great ring epic, Wall Street could estimate your net worth at two billion dollars. But that was only net worth. Earning money from novels was never something that produced enough return all at once; it depended on long-term accumulation through sales.
Besides, apart from that epic, what else did you have? They had heard that an entertainment company had made a movie, but what use was that?
One hundred billion dollars. No one in this world had ever earned that much money, let alone within five years.
You don’t even have that kind of money, and yet you’ve put forward such an unbelievable budget. Are you just playing with us?
If these six companies were not world-famous design firms, but some fly-by-night shell companies, they would not care in the least whether Li Daniu’s funding could keep up. As long as they received the design fee, they would dare to design whatever he wanted.
As for whether he could actually build it afterward, what did that have to do with them? They only wanted money, not reputation.
Looking at the meeting room now left with only himself and Castro, Li Daniu could not help laughing. Being told the truth, and not a single person believing it.
“Castro, do you think I can earn one hundred billion dollars in five years?” Li Daniu, feeling rather wounded, wanted at least some comfort from Castro.
“Your Majesty, I think…” Castro hesitated for a moment, then said, “we should proceed step by step. Rome was not built in a day.”
Li Daniu let out a sigh. It seemed this comfort would not be found after all. Still, if he could not travel through movie worlds and plunder wealth from them, how could he possibly dare to make such a budget?
If someone in his former life had stood before Li Daniu and said he could earn one hundred billion dollars in five years, Li Daniu would have spat in his face and asked why he didn’t simply say that the mobile giant belonged to him personally.
Li Daniu now profoundly understood what it meant to be half a step ahead and a genius, one step ahead and a monster, and ten steps ahead—well, he believed that in other people’s eyes, he would absolutely be a mental patient.
“Should we contact other design firms? Or perhaps some well-known independent design studios?”
“No need.”
It was not that Li Daniu did not want to contact them. He had simply understood now that truly professional designers, besides doing the design work itself, would also consider the actual circumstances of the client. Since no one believed he could earn that much money, any designer willing to take the job would only be after the design fee. Could such people be trusted with anything important?
“Looks like I’ll have to design New Tuvalu in separate parts,” Li Daniu said.
The reason he had originally wanted to hand the entire New Tuvalu project over to one firm was out of necessity.
The Tuvalu government did not even have a planning bureau, so there was no such thing as talent with planning expertise.
If the airport were entrusted to one company, the commercial district to another, and so on, with every area assigned separately, then the connections between those different zones would inevitably run into problems. Without an overall plan, New Tuvalu, no matter how much money was invested, would become like patches sewn onto a ragged coat, scattered here and there without coherence.
But now that he could not find a company daring enough to take on the overall planning, Li Daniu had no choice but to seek another path.
“Castro, inform Burns to begin bidding for the airport and the pier, but they must be designed according to my standards.”
Airports and piers had extremely strict geographical requirements. In particular, the Auckland Islands’ terrain offered very few options for construction sites. So Li Daniu was not worried at all that the choice of locations for those two places would affect the overall planning of New Tuvalu.
Moreover, once those two projects were built, importing building materials would become much easier and would play a crucial role in the construction that followed.
Having laid out the first step in New Tuvalu’s development, Li Daniu prepared to begin his own road to riches.
“Back to TC Entertainment. Tell Helena to wait for me there.”