Chapter 102: 3M's Intentions and the Birth of the Rubik's Cube
Los Angeles, USA.
Inside a warehouse spanning over 10,000 square meters, forklifts and trucks moved rapidly in all directions.
This was one of the major distribution centers of American industrial giant 3M. As the largest diversified manufacturing company in the U.S., 3M's business differed from its industrial peers: most of its products were small items closely tied to everyday life.
Things like tape, household utensils, small furniture, kitchen containers, plastic bags, sponges, brushes, steel wool, gloves, cling film, paper products, cassettes—thousands of types. If you can think of it, 3M probably makes it.
Many of these items were either invented by 3M or significantly improved upon. With its unmatched research and innovation capability, 3M held more patents than any other company in the world, turning even the smallest of products into global bestsellers. Individually they might have low value, but collectively they brought 3M into the top 50 companies in the U.S.
But with such a vast array of goods, strong logistics were essential. 3M had its own fleets and warehouses scattered across the United States.
Standing not far from a freight truck, Robert watched as a forklift unloaded several pallets of packaged Post-it notes.
Beside him, his old friend Robin—blonde, blue-eyed, and voluptuous—commented, "Robert, even with this shipment, it's still not nearly enough. This isn't even enough to meet demand in California and Nevada."
Robert shrugged gracefully. "I know. But scaling up production in Hong Kong takes time. I've reminded them repeatedly—they say they're doing their best."
"Is it a funding issue?" Robin pressed. "I know we advanced them some payment before. If money is still a problem, I think corporate might be willing to give them another advance."
"Really? They're that generous now?" Robert raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me it's in exchange for the Post-it patent again. I already tried that. If you want the patent, send someone else to Hong Kong and talk to Eric yourself."
"No, not the patent," Robin laughed. "Corporate wants exclusive distribution rights in other countries."
"Well, that's a more reasonable ask," Robert nodded. "But I already talked to Eric about this. He was very clear—they're not ready for large-scale international expansion. Their production capacity is still limited, so they're focusing on the U.S. market first."
"I understand," Robin smiled. "That's exactly why I'm here. Sure, there are other factors limiting their expansion—but the biggest one is money, isn't it?
If they had enough capital, they could scale up production by several times within two or three months.
If Eric boosts production, he earns more, and we make more in the U.S. It's a win-win.
And we want to replicate that success in other countries."
"How much are you proposing to advance them?" Robert asked, curious.
Robin held up a finger. "One million dollars."
"One million?" Robert paused, glanced around to ensure no one was listening, and whispered, "Are they insane? Last time it took me three whole days to convince them to raise their purchase offer on the patent to $500,000."
In 1950s America, a million dollars was a massive sum. Even for 3M, whose annual revenue hadn't yet reached a billion, it was a considerable investment.
Robin explained, "Robert, you were the first in the company to recognize the value of the Post-it note—and you were right.
But that was just your gut feeling. Now that Post-its have taken off in California, the board commissioned professional market analysts to conduct an in-depth study. The numbers they found were shocking."
"Oh?" Robert was intrigued. "What's the projected market size for North America?"
Robin was right. Even though Robert believed in the product, he had no sense of its actual potential. That required real research, access to extensive market data, and professional forecasting models.
Even then, such numbers were only estimates—but they still helped paint a picture. As long as the projections weren't off by a factor of two or three, a 20–30% error margin was acceptable.
Robin said, "The market team estimates annual revenue between 30 to 50 million U.S. dollars."
"Thirty to fifty million?" Robert was stunned. "Seriously?"
To put that in perspective, 3M had countless product lines, and all of them combined brought in just over $1 billion annually. Only a few flagship products crossed the $30 million mark individually.
"Exactly. It's that unbelievable," Robin said, pulling a Post-it pad from her pocket. "This thing is so simple, it can't be made any simpler. But its market potential is mind-blowing. And more importantly, it's patented.
The board now regrets not increasing the purchase offer for the patent back then."
"Increasing the offer wouldn't have worked," Robert shook his head, recalling his meetings with Yang Wendong in Hong Kong. "Eric is a very sharp man. He clearly understood the value of what he had."
"Maybe," Robin said, "but that doesn't mean there's no opportunity.
Sure, the patent is valuable—but to fully realize its value, you need massive distribution capacity. There are only a handful of global firms that can offer that.
If he works with us, he earns more—but only within limits."
"You underestimate Eric," Robert replied. "He's not just a clever inventor—he's also a sharp businessman. I had to negotiate with him several times just to get the U.S. rights, and that was back when he had nothing but the patent.
He imposed strict time and territory limits—clearly to prevent any single distributor from gaining too much control.
If you think it's easy to get more countries' rights now, it'll be even harder."
"Surely if the offer is good enough, he won't refuse," Robin said, frowning.
"I don't know," Robert replied with a smile. "My gut tells me he doesn't want us handling other regions.
And if you think dangling a cash advance will sway him, it might not be enough. His business is already doing well. If he wants to expand, he can probably get financing locally now—especially from banks."
Robin looked at Robert thoughtfully and said, "Then… maybe you should go back to Hong Kong and talk to him again?"
"Me? No way!" Robert immediately protested. "I couldn't convince him last time. Going again after just a few months? It'll just make us look pushy.
If you really want a new deal, send someone else."
Robin smiled and said, "You're the one who said Eric is sharp and forward-thinking, and unwilling to give us exclusive rights in other countries. Sending someone else probably won't change anything. You've been handling communications with him for months—you already have a good relationship. Why not sit down and have a straightforward conversation with him? See what kind of terms would get him to consider giving us more exclusive regional rights."
"It has to be me?" Robert asked again.
"I think it has to be," Robin said seriously. "Robert, the board has taken a serious interest in Post-it notes. They're putting a lot of weight behind securing distribution rights for other countries.
And if, as you said, sending someone else probably won't work, then eventually, you're still the best person for the job."
"…Alright, I'll give it a try," Robert said after a brief moment of reflection.
Truthfully, the fact that he had been the first to recognize the market potential of Post-its and had gone to Hong Kong himself to secure the U.S. distribution rights was already a huge success for 3M. After all, in this era, the American market alone represented 40% of global consumption.
But capitalists never stop at one success. Once they had the U.S. market in their hands, of course they'd start eyeing the rest of the world. And eventually, they'd want production rights—maybe even the patent itself.
The problem was, the man in Hong Kong wasn't ordinary either. Clearly, he had his own plans.
Hong Kong.
During this time, Yang Wendong had been paying close attention to the new equipment arriving from Dongsheng. These machines would determine the speed at which his production could grow. So far, they were performing well—just a slightly higher defect rate than the older models.
Meanwhile, the high-low temperature testing chambers he had ordered from Japan had also arrived. As standard lab equipment, they were easy to import as long as the money was in place. And thanks to Yang's connections at the Kowloon Wharf, the shipment was processed quickly.
With the chambers in place, both Post-it notes and glue traps were now being tested under various conditions. He had also bought several different commercial adhesives from the market to run comparison tests.
Unfortunately, finding a chemistry expert in Hong Kong had proven extremely difficult. He had already commissioned a Japanese headhunter to help, but when two qualified Chinese chemical engineers were contacted, both declined the offer immediately—unwilling to join an unknown startup in Hong Kong.
Without the right people, you couldn't do specialized work. Yang was beginning to understand why so many nations in his past life had struggled to execute their national strategies—lack of talent had been the real obstacle.
But soon, Yang received some good news:
Inside his private office, he held in his hands a black plastic cube, twisting it constantly.
Each face of the cube consisted of 9 smaller squares—it was none other than the most iconic toy from his previous life: the Rubik's Cube.
At this stage, the cube had no colors—just solid black. To people of this era, it looked like a strange mechanical toy that could be twisted and rotated, but served no apparent purpose.
After fiddling with it for a while, Yang set it down and said, "Not bad. It turns smoothly, no jamming. It meets all my expectations."
"It took a few months, but we finally pulled it off," said Hong Xuefei, smiling.
Yang nodded. Then he said, "Old Wei, work with Old Hong to get this entire design and every component registered as a global patent."
"Understood," Wei Zetao replied immediately. Then, looking at the object in his hands, he asked, "Mr. Yang, what should we call it? We need a name for the patent application."
"Just call it '魔方'—Magic Cube," Yang said. "And the English name? Let's go with 'Magic Tube.'"
Without colored stickers, no one would know what it was actually used for. Better to get the structural patent registered first.
Wei asked, "Mr. Yang, if we're registering in most major countries, this kind of mechanical design patent will cost at least tens of thousands of Hong Kong dollars."
"I know. Register the global patent anyway," Yang confirmed.
"Got it. I'll go speak to Lawyer Zhang now," Wei said.
Yang nodded, then turned to Hong Xuefei. "Old Hong, you've worked hard these past few months. I'll be issuing a special bonus to your team this month."
"Thank you, Mr. Yang," Hong replied, clearly pleased. After all, anyone working a job is doing it for the paycheck.
A few days later, Wei and Hong returned to Yang's office, bringing with them four sets of mechanical structure applications and one patent combination application for the Rubik's Cube.
"Excellent," Yang said, flipping through the five patent confirmation documents. Although they weren't official certificates yet, as long as no one could produce earlier filings, they held the same legal validity as full patents.
Wei smiled. "The Hong Kong applications are done. And thanks to the Paris Convention, registration in most Western countries and Japan is considered protected.
Lawyer Zhang will still submit full applications, of course. We should receive confirmation documents from each country within two months."
"Great. That means we're ready for the next step." Yang reached into his pocket and pulled out a colored version of the Rubik's Cube. Smiling, he said, "Now this is the real value of the invention.
Originally, each face has its own color—six in total. You scramble the colors, and then the challenge is to restore them."
He spent a few minutes explaining the basic concept of the Rubik's Cube, then handed one to each of them.
"This is… an educational toy?" Wei asked, examining the cube.
Having worked in the plastics industry for half his life, Wei was familiar with all kinds of toys, including brain teasers. Most of them were aimed at children and designed to develop cognitive skills.
"Exactly. But this one isn't just for kids. Adults can enjoy it too," Yang said. "Try it—see if you can solve the scrambled version."
"Sure," Wei and Hong replied, immediately getting to work.
One minute.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
After a while, both men were stumped. Even Hong, who had helped design the structure, couldn't figure out how to solve it.
Yang teased them, "How's it going?"
"No way we're solving this quickly," Wei admitted.
"Haha, so you still think you can solve it eventually?" Yang grinned. "Alright—take them home. Whoever figures it out first gets a HK$1,000 reward."
"Really?" Hong's eyes lit up.
"Of course. Have I ever broken a promise?" Yang replied.
"Then I'm definitely going to figure this thing out," Hong said, suddenly full of energy.
Yang added, "But before that—get the appearance patent filed as well."
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/johanssen10