Simon stayed at the company called 3D-Miracle, near Stanford University, for three hours. He personally observed the company's small 3D metal printer in action as it created an aluminum alloy teacup. Afterward, he gathered everyone for a meeting to discuss the company's future development direction.
The goal was clear.
They needed to develop a large-scale 3D printer capable of producing rocket components.
There were two main challenges. First, ensuring precision as the printer scaled up. Many rocket components could weigh several tons, yet the precision required was in the micron range—a significant challenge. Fortunately, there was a possible direction to pursue. Many industrial robots produced by high-tech companies already achieved micron-level precision. The team could either borrow from these methods or commission the development of auxiliary robots.
The second challenge was enabling the 3D printer to handle various aerospace materials.
The principle behind 3D printing involves laser sintering to solidify material powders. However, high-end aerospace alloys, in terms of melting points and hardness, far exceed the capabilities of common materials like aluminum alloys. The current 3D-Miracle equipment could only print low-melting-point aluminum alloys, so upgrades and modifications were necessary.
After more than two hours of discussion, Simon agreed to 3D-Miracle's founder Brian Dage's request for a complete budget plan, on the condition that the team develops a large 3D printer capable of producing rocket parts within a year. In addition to funding, the Westeros system would also recruit experts from around the world over the next year, even acquiring other companies or patents in the 3D printing field if necessary.
While Simon wasn't stingy with necessary investments, he also wasn't a fool.
Unlike the booming internet industry, 3D printing remained a niche with narrow applications. Although many teams worldwide were working on it, very few were thriving.
With anonymous proxy teams handling acquisitions, obtaining the required technology wouldn't cost much. For instance, Simon had acquired 3D-Miracle for only $13 million. Although the company had developed a product, it was commercially unviable—who would spend $100 on an aluminum cup that could be bought in a store for $5?
3D-Miracle, founded five years ago during the Silicon Valley tech boom, had burned through $6 million in venture capital over that period. When the Westeros system's proxy team acquired 100% of the company for $13 million, the venture firms, which owned about 70% of the shares, walked away with only a 50% return—an annual average of 10%, just marginally better than investing in high-yield bonds.
While some news might leak out, potentially boosting the value of related technologies, the 3D printing field remained a "buyer's market."
Whether SpaceX, SolarCity, or subsidiary companies like 3D-Miracle, Simon operated with the same philosophy: cutting costs to the bone, squeezing value out of every investment. Only those who delivered results would benefit from Simon's system. If they didn't meet expectations, they were out.
Aside from the positive example of SpaceX, Simon's approach was influenced by another company in his memories: Jeff Bezos' Blue Origin.
What many people didn't realize was that Blue Origin, another company focused on space exploration, had been founded two years before SpaceX—and with far more financial resources.
They had everything they needed.
Yet, while SpaceX rose to become the new powerhouse of the aerospace industry, even taking over the U.S. lunar mission that Boeing and Lockheed Martin had lost the capability to execute, Blue Origin hadn't even achieved orbit.
There might be many reasons for this, but Simon firmly believed in one simple truth: "Adversity breeds survival; comfort breeds death."
That's why Simon's first rule for the companies he controlled, no matter how highly he valued them internally, was to never provide a "comfortable" work environment. If someone couldn't handle it, they were gone. If they demanded more pay than they were worth, they were gone. If they couldn't complete their tasks and didn't have a good reason, they were gone.
Simon was even prepared to disband an entire team and start over if they failed to meet expectations.
In the coming years, many people would learn how a tyrant is made.
At 5 p.m., Simon finished his work in San Francisco. This time, he didn't stay overnight in the Bay Area but took his private plane back to Los Angeles for an evening cocktail party.
The party was part of the "Troy Project."
After careful selection and background checks, Simon had chosen the first batch of young executives from within the Westeros system—just 10 individuals for this round.
Before officially paving the way for them, Simon had arranged tonight's cocktail party under the guise of a gathering of the Westeros system's management. Like the scene in Infernal Affairs where Eric Tsang's character bids farewell to a group of young officers, Simon wanted these young people to meet their real boss behind the scenes.
To avoid attracting too much attention, the party was large enough that the inclusion of a few young executives wouldn't stand out.
After tonight, these individuals would gradually be placed in key positions, such as the White House or other important Washington institutions, over the next year.
The entire process was informal—Westeros would select candidates, and if those candidates happened to be interested in politics, the match was made. There were no explicit loyalty pledges to the Westeros system. Simon believed that those who were smart enough would understand the benefits of being a "Westerosian" without needing an official contract.
At 7:30 p.m., the party began at Simon's early Palisades hillside mansion.
Simon arrived after having dinner with his family and stayed at the party for less than an hour. He greeted each candidate, gave them some subtle encouragement, and left by 9 p.m.
From arriving at Playa Vista at 8 a.m. to leaving the party at 9 p.m., Simon had worked for a total of 13 hours.
Finally, his day was over.
Just as he settled into his car to head back to Dume Point, one of his assistants mentioned that a redheaded Frenchwoman, currently in China celebrating the New Year with Chen Qing, had called to ask if she could get a job at FusionTimes.
Simon was a little confused, but the assistant explained.
Emmanuelle Brant was a particle physics PhD from ETH Zurich, with relevant expertise and connections in the field.
Simon recalled Emmanuelle's personal file.
After some thought, he agreed. It made sense.
However, Emmanuelle was already the chairwoman of Skorpius and had been assisting Chen Qing in establishing the Excellence Technology Company in China. She had even become a shareholder. This inquiry was probably driven by Simon's evident focus on FusionTimes, seeing it as a good opportunity. Clearly, she wasn't aiming for a low-level position at FusionTimes.
FusionTimes' headquarters would be in San Francisco, relying on Stanford's talent pool, just like Skorpius. Emmanuelle could manage both.
Still...
Simon hesitated. The primary issue was that Emmanuelle was a woman.
Even though many of Westeros' key executives were women, the three companies—SpaceX, SolarCity, and FusionTimes—were different. The level of commitment required far exceeded typical corporate roles.
What Simon needed were "workhorses."
Men could be workhorses.
Women, at best, could be treated like men.
That's why every SpaceX interview candidate had been male. Not a single woman.
Unable to make a decision right away, Simon told his assistant, "When Emmanuelle returns, we'll meet and discuss it. By the way, how's the VCD industry doing in China over the past two months? Fill me in."
The assistant nodded and began outlining the current state of the VCD industry in China.
In 1995, the Chinese VCD industry had experienced explosive growth, with total shipments reaching 1.53 million units and sales amounting to 6.1 billion RMB. VCD had quickly become an important new technology product in the Chinese market.
In parallel, Skorpius had completed the development of the second-generation video decoding chip by the end of last year as planned. With a significant technological lead and an open collaboration policy, Skorpius had effectively blocked other electronics manufacturers from developing competing chips, achieving market dominance.
At the start of 1996, Chinese manufacturers like BBK launched VCD products equipped with the second-generation decoding chip, along with an aggressive price reduction—from around 4,000 yuan to 2,999 yuan—rapidly eating into the VCR market, where prices had typically been above 3,000 yuan.
In just the first two months of this year, total VCD shipments from major Chinese manufacturers had already reached 1.78 million units, surpassing last year's total. The Chinese VCD market was expected to hit 10 million units in 1996, with total sales projected at around 30 billion RMB.
These favorable developments had pushed Skorpius' stock price to $2.3 billion, more than ten times its valuation when the Westeros system had acquired it last year. While the capital markets' focus remained on giants like Egret with market caps in the hundreds of billions, the returns on investments like Skorpius were still considered extraordinary by many on Wall Street.
Meanwhile, in Suzhou, China...
As Simon's assistant briefed him on the VCD industry, Emmanuelle Brant and Lin Su were arriving from Shanghai and Hangzhou, respectively, to visit Chen Qing's family. The group was scheduled to fly to Beijing that afternoon.
It was noon on March 5th in China.
The day after the Lantern Festival, on the 16th day of
the lunar calendar.
Chen Qing's family originally lived in a small county near Suzhou, but after earning some money, Chen Qing had purchased an antique-style house for them in Suzhou's Gusu District. Initially, she had hoped they would move to Shanghai, but her parents, used to small-town life, found Shanghai overwhelming. They ultimately chose Suzhou, closer to home. Even the antique-style house was their choice, as they couldn't adjust to living in high-rise apartments.
Emmanuelle, arriving first from Shanghai, was accompanied by four of Chen Qing and Lin Su's personal maids. These women had come to China before the New Year and were set to accompany the group to Beijing.
Chen Qing's family consisted of six members—her parents, her brother, sister-in-law, and a four-year-old nephew.
Even though Chen Qing had previously brought her maids and bodyguards home, the sight of five foreign women at once left her family and neighbors a bit overwhelmed. The neighbors even gathered to gawk at the spectacle. Seeing this, Chen Qing dismissed four of the maids, keeping only Emmanuelle as a guest. Her mother softly scolded her for being rude, suggesting it wasn't proper to send them away.
Chen Qing pretended not to hear her mother's complaints. Since Lin Su hadn't arrived yet, lunch couldn't start. She took Emmanuelle to her room in the western wing of the house.
The room was a suite.
Once inside, Emmanuelle relaxed and sat on the sofa, still unsettled by her earlier experience. "I don't get it. Why does everyone here look at me like I'm some kind of animal in a zoo?"
Chen Qing didn't bother offering Emmanuelle tea or water. She picked up a folder she had been reading earlier, casually replying, "You're much more precious than a lion or tiger in a zoo."
"Hah, I'm sure that's not a compliment," Emmanuelle shot her a glare. Noticing something, she leaned over and grabbed Chen Qing's right hand, pointing to a clear, red mark on the back of it. "What happened here?"
Chen Qing pulled her hand away and said, "My dad hit me."
Emmanuelle's eyes widened in disbelief as she glanced at Chen Qing's injury. "Just now? He seemed so nice… this is violent!"
Chen Qing rolled her eyes. "Different culture. Here, it's normal for parents to discipline their children. That's just how my family works."
"But you're a girl!"
Chen Qing laughed. "He hits my brother even harder. Sometimes he's strung up."
She gestured to the ceiling for emphasis.
Emmanuelle couldn't quite picture what it meant to be "strung up and hit," but she quickly realized something else was more important. "Why did your dad hit you?"
Chen Qing didn't explain, brushing it off with a vague answer. "Family stuff."
But Emmanuelle wasn't satisfied. "What kind of family stuff?"
Chen Qing couldn't exactly say it was because she had urged her brother to divorce his wife—whom she didn't particularly like—and had been beaten with a feather duster by her father as a result. The mark on her hand came from trying to block the blows. Not wanting to get into it, she smirked and said, "It's because I'm this old and still haven't found a boyfriend, so I got punished. You know how important marriage is to parents in China."
Emmanuelle blinked and then quickly replied, "Chen, you're lying. I know a little about this stuff, and besides, you're still young, aren't you?"
Chen Qing shrugged. "Alright, fine. Actually, I told them I found a woman."
Simon Westeros?
A woman?
Before Emmanuelle could press for more details, there was a knock on the door, followed by a child's voice. "Auntie, Auntie, the guest is here."
Hearing this, Chen Qing stood up from the sofa. "That must be Lin. Let's head out. My mom spent all of yesterday preparing lunch, so make sure to give her some compliments."
As the two left Chen Qing's room, Lin Su, having just arrived from Hangzhou, was being warmly welcomed by Chen Qing's family. When she saw Chen Qing, Lin Su quickly nodded, looking eager to escape.
For some reason, the way the family looked at her was just too strange.
_________________________
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! $5 for all!!]
[w w w . p a t r e o n .com / INNIT]
[+50 PowerStones = +1 Chapter] [+5 Reviews = +1 Chapter]