Hey everyone! Sorry for the unexpected break in updates the past few days—I was away attending a family function and couldn't get online.
But don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the bonus chapters! In fact, I owe you even more than I promised.
Originally, I had planned to release bonus chapters for reaching 50 Power Stones, but you all went way beyond that and smashed through the 100+ milestone!
As a thank-you, I'll be posting 5 bonus chapters, along with the regular 2-chapter update starting today. Massive thanks for your continued support—it means the world!
Let's get back to the story!
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Chapter 47: Steel, Strikes, and Strategic Moves
George stayed in Lincoln for three days, during which he toured Detroit, the Steel City, and noticed that several steel factories had ceased operations.
Given the circumstances, this wasn't surprising. At the start of the year, American steelworkers launched the largest nationwide strike in U.S. history. They demanded an eight-hour workday, a six-day workweek, better pay, and the abolition of company-controlled unions.
The U.S. government responded harshly, deploying troops to suppress the strike, resulting in 22 worker deaths. While this pressure did lead to the end of the 12-hour workday, the right to form independent unions was denied.
As a result, American industry began flowing overseas. Many domestic factories shut down or relocated.
George saw this as a moment of opportunity. Starting a steel mill now could be a strategic move, especially with his automotive and aerospace ventures growing fast and needing vast quantities of steel.
But there was a major hurdle. A single steel conglomerate, led by the Morgan family, already controlled 65% of the national output. It was also the first billion-dollar company in American history.
To make matters trickier, most of the U.S.'s major iron ore sites had already been tapped. So George looked abroad.
Given Paul's background in mining, George tasked him with spearheading the project and sent him back to New York while he remained behind to wrap up other matters.
George spent two more days delivering the December alcohol shipment. When he finally returned to New York, Tessio handed him a $1.8 million check.
He stayed just one night before returning to university. The trip had stretched to a full month, but thanks to the academic calendar—including Thanksgiving—it didn't cause any issues.
George wasn't moved by Western holidays. Alone, he felt no urge to celebrate.
Back on campus, he threw himself into his studies. For an entire week, he was a model student, attending lectures and putting in long hours at the lab. The experimental work was largely pre-structured, so George's main job was data supplementation, and he handled that efficiently.
Time flew by, and soon, it was Christmas Eve.
After classes ended, George returned to New York.
Per his instructions, Leland had spent the past three days running full-page ads in the city's largest newspaper. The headline was bold: "A New Revolution in the Automobile Industry."
By Christmas Day, George didn't need to check the sales floor in person. Leland's call gave him the numbers: every one of the 30 vehicles sent to each of the 25 cities had sold out. On top of that, there were 5,000 pre-orders.
That meant every VIP card distributed had led to at least one confirmed sale.
All the cars had been paid for in full. At $1,600 per vehicle, the revenue surpassed $9 million.
Though the net profit was smaller, the financial potential was clear.
Over the past year, George had aggressively expanded, snapping up military-industrial firms, beverage companies, and car manufacturers. If not for the stock market crash lowering acquisition costs, he might not have pulled it off.
The key to Lincoln's launch was its exclusivity. Aside from custom orders, only 10,000 units of each model would be produced. And only VIP cardholders could purchase them.
So, how did one get a VIP card?
Simple: make a purchase, have social standing, and secure recommendations from two current cardholders. That earned a temporary card.
All current cards were temporary and would expire in six months. Renewing VIP status costs $500 annually and comes with perks like free car washes and scheduled maintenance.
After Christmas, George wasted no time. He called Paul with a list of new acquisitions:
Buy a mining company with its exploration team
Purchase newspapers in 30 major U.S. cities
Acquire a film studio
Secure a publishing house
George already had two books in the pipeline—Puzzles for Smart Kids and Harry Potter, the latter still locked away. Self-publishing would cut out delays.
Besides, publishing houses were cheap.
Even more importantly, Playboy hadn't been invented yet.
Back then, magazines were crude and tone-deaf to actual male psychology. George believed he could do it better.
Years later, he imagined Tony Stark being surrounded by models from his magazine.
"Heh, let's see him gloat then," George smirked.
Following the holiday, automakers from across the globe began reaching out to George's holding company, hoping to license his newly patented automotive technologies.
To avoid dealing with each one individually, George had Paul arrange a single meeting. Representatives from over 20 companies—including BMW and Mercedes-Benz—gathered at a rented banquet hall in the Plaza Hotel.
At the center of the hall stood Lincoln's latest model.
Its design took cues from a 1926 Bentley. Under the hood was a cutting-edge overhead camshaft inline-6 engine, delivering 140 horsepower by default and up to 180 at peak.
The car's appearance was sleek and luxurious. It turned heads instantly.
Paul took the lead, introducing the car's innovative features. Driving wasn't permitted, but guests could try out the ignition system and seat controls.
General Motors, already semi-aligned with George, had secured patent access at 10% of each car's price. The rest of the room? Potential clients.
Then, George was pulled aside by none other than Little Morgan and DuPont.
He hadn't expected the two to show up together, but with battery tech involved, it wasn't surprising.
The profits were enormous.
Take Ford's Model T, for instance. In 1918, it rolled off the line every 10 seconds. At 2,880 units per 8-hour day and $350 apiece, Ford was pulling in over $1 million daily.
A 10% cut? That'd be $100,000 per day.
That alone would net George $25 million annually.
In 1930, the U.S. sold 2.33 million civilian vehicles. And that didn't include military sales.
Was a $100 million annual patent fee too much?
It seemed steep—until you considered that Qualcomm earned $30 billion a year from China alone on licensing.
George didn't feel the slightest guilt. He wondered if he was being too generous.
Of course, that kind of transparent cash flow made equity investment less attractive to others.
"George, you've just surpassed the DuPont family's century of wealth in one go," Pierre said.
George smiled. "You flatter me, Mr. Pierre. The patent revenue will only last 20 years. But our real long-term bet is in the battery business—the one we share."
"Win-win cooperation," Little Morgan added.
George nodded. "Exactly. It's the only way to build something bigger."
"Most businessmen never figure that out," DuPont mused. "You're young—but sharp."
"So, George, what's next?"
George leaned back. "This year's been rough economically. Recently, I met a professor out in California who wanted to build a city called California City. That gave me an idea. I want to build one, too."
"Hah, you young guys never think small," Little Morgan laughed. "But if you need a construction firm, we've got one."
"Thanks. I haven't picked a site yet—maybe somewhere like California's desert."
"Well, don't forget us when the next big opportunity comes," Pierre said.
"Of course. This partnership's been a good one."
"To future ventures," they all toasted.
The next day, every major newspaper in New York reported the historic patent deal.
George, now a certified billionaire, was suddenly everywhere. Articles dubbed him "The Youngest Billionaire," "Luckiest Boy," and "Descendant of Heroes."
His idea to build a city also leaked.
Some praised his vision. Others scoffed.
George didn't respond—just smiled.
By then, George couldn't go anywhere without being followed by reporters.
Meanwhile, BlackGuard Security's 100-person team had finished its three-month training cycle. Paul had acquired a bankrupt clothing factory and 30 acres of adjacent land to serve as their base.
George had a five-man security team assigned to him, not that he really needed it. In an emergency, it wasn't clear who'd be protecting whom.
Next, George visited a pharmaceutical company he'd just acquired. He renamed it Panlong Pharmaceutical.
Ten years earlier, Coca-Cola had been marketed as a miracle cure. George saw a similar opportunity in the blurred line between food and medicine.
While he couldn't monopolize penicillin, as one of its discoverers, he aimed to claim the largest share.
For now, he submitted a formula for a digestive health product—no clinical trials required. As a health food, it could be sold immediately.
The recipe? Simple. Mash up digestive fruits like hawthorn, shape, and dry them.
It was harmless—and profitable.
The next frontier was already forming.