stjorthotic Chapter 324 Steady Progress, Gradual Land Acquisition
Chapter 324 Steady Progress, Gradual Land Acquisition
Chapter 324 Steady Progress, Gradual Land Acquisition
Matthew's description of Texas piqued Larry's interest.
The feeling of "having a mine at home" is a strong temptation for anyone. Larry had also paid attention to relevant clues after his rebirth. After all, he had worked as a truck driver before his rebirth and had a general impression of the "mineral sites" and "depleted oil fields" scattered throughout the United States when he was wandering across the vast land of America.
Although the memories of his previous life don't allow him to pinpoint locations as accurately as Google Maps, as long as he has a general recollection, he'll likely still be able to find these "mineral-rich" lands.
But one factor prevented Larry from doing so: these days, mining is a specialized field, requiring specialized teams from exploration to trial production. Given Larry's age and status, doing mineral exploration would be too conspicuous; and if he were to "make a perfect discovery every time" and possess the Midas touch—who knows whose touch that would be!
In other words, I can't afford it now, so I'll accumulate for a few more years and expand my team before making any decisions. After all, most of the mineral and oil resources won't be taken away in the short term.
Another factor worth considering is risk. Don't be fooled by the fact that the Rockefeller family are "oil tycoons".
But they only refine oil now and rarely conduct large-scale oil field extraction. Why?
Oil extraction is risky and uncontrollable. Furthermore, from a capital perspective, refineries offer faster returns on investment.
Cash flow is stable; while oil fields require long-term investment and are greatly affected by geological uncertainties.
John D. Rockefeller hated uncertainty the most.
If there were any other considerations, they were legal and public opinion. The Rockefeller family was already heavily accused of "monopoly," and if they were to also monopolize a large oil field—even more eyes would be watching them.
Of course, the Rockefeller family's concerns were not Larry's concerns. For Larry, he was now considering a different level of issue. That is, "except for Texas, which has absolute land ownership," other states in the United States have their own different regulations regarding mineral resources beneath the land.
For example, in states like Pennsylvania and California, the state government often retains mineral rights, and privately sold land does not include mineral resources; if oil is discovered, additional fees are required.
In states like Alaska, mineral resources belong to the state, and mining them requires bidding.
In some eastern states, mineral resources were scarce and had long been exploited, and landowners would also set up legal loopholes such as "mineral rights reservations" when transferring land.
In short, becoming a major American mining tycoon again involves many subtle but professional considerations. This is a process that requires patience and gradual action!
Of course, there's always one exception, and that's Texas!
Unlike other states, Texas residents "joined the United States with their dowries," which is why it was previously called the "Lone Star Republic."
Texas's legal system is based on Spanish and Mexican traditions, and was later adopted by the Republic of Texas and the U.S. Constitution of Texas.
The most crucial rule in this state is—"Whoever owns the land owns the minerals beneath it!" This includes oil, natural gas, and water!
A person only needs to legally purchase full ownership of a piece of land to automatically have the right to extract oil to an unlimited depth thereunder, without having to apply for additional mining rights or pay fees to the government.
In Texas, private property rights are paramount!
So when it came to the fact that Texas had oil, Larry was really excited!
This is a good project! I need to go to Texas myself sometime! If possible, I'll buy a few more plots of land; I can just leave them there.
Larry also recalled from his past life that the real oil boom in Texas didn't happen during the Rockefeller era in the 19th century, but rather during a period at the beginning of the 20th century!
Wow! This is interesting!
Of course, this matter cannot be rushed. We must proceed steadily and surely. We must also be careful when hoarding land. Everything must follow that principle: hide yourself well and make money slowly!
No rush, no rush! For Larry, money comes eventually, not by robbery.
Besides—making money from the financial market yourself is no worse than "having a mine at home"!
The task now is to take some time to reflect and grow!
After hearing Matthew's observations about Texas's "specialties," Larry smiled and arranged for him to stay in a guest room of his apartment.
Matthew was also travel-worn, and besides, he wasn't one to be polite to Larry—so he settled himself in and took a nice, hot shower.
When he came out after taking a shower, Larry had already prepared a brand new suit, trousers, shirt and leather shoes for him.
Matthew frowned. "Actually, I have this equipment—"
Larry laughed. "It's okay. I ordered this from Macy's when I moved into the Dakota apartment—we're about the same size, you can't keep wearing this outfit."
Matthew smiled and, without standing on ceremony, changed into a new set of clothes.
After changing their clothes, Matthew and Larry sat in the suite and talked.
"What are your plans after this?" Larry asked.
"Back to Boston—it's been so long since I've been back." Matthew's face showed a complex smile.
Larry knew that Matthew's heart was now completely devoted to Mr. Winthrop's daughter. In fact, Larry wanted Matthew to stay by his side, especially in New York; he could appoint Matthew as a director he would send to United Industries in Manhattan.
Matthew is the best choice for me.
Unfortunately, the other party didn't want to stay in New York. Larry knew that he didn't even need to ask; a Cancer man like Matthew, who was beginning to yearn for family, would want to return to Boston no matter what conditions he offered.
Larry thought for a moment and said, "I won't stop you from going back to Boston. I'd even like to go back to Boston with you—but you'll have to help me for a few days with the electric fan patent."
Oh right, and the cash register too. We need to get those patents as soon as possible. Also, we need to go to United Industries in Manhattan and see how they set up their electric fan production line.
Matthew nodded. "No problem, and this is something I should be doing anyway—oh, by the way, is Mr. Tesla back yet? Aren't you going to set up an investment fund for him?"
Larry slapped his forehead and nodded, saying, "I almost forgot about that—I'll contact the bank right now and have them connect me with the best lawyers available."
After discussing their plan, the two took a carriage to the Bank of New York in Lower Manhattan. They had used them to handle the establishment of Manhattan United Capital Company before, and now Larry wanted to rely on them as well.
As the carriage passed the Waldorf Hotel on Fifth Avenue, Larry was astonished to find that his five street-front shops had been lavishly renovated, with staff coming and going, preparing for their opening.
The shop has a very large, uniform sign that reads "De Beers Jewelry Company".
Larry smiled and nodded. This South African colonist had still opened the jewelry store, even though he knew his reputation in New York was already ruined.
It seems that Mr. Cecil Rhodes is indeed a man who will not give up until he achieves his goal.
As he was lost in thought, Matthew suddenly exclaimed, "Why does this person look so familiar? Oh, isn't that the receptionist manager from Reading Securities?"
On the same day, along the Charles River in Boston.
Mr. K stood outside the iron gates of Suffolk Jail, chain-smoking his cigarette. Beside him stood a young Italian man, who was essentially his henchman, carrying a wicker food box.
Mr. K frowned as he stared at the high prison walls. He had unknowingly finished smoking his cigarette, and a burning sensation came over him as the loosened cigarette smoke entered his mouth.
"Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey!" Mr. K flicked away the cigarette butt in his hand and spat out the smoke from his mouth.
Mr. K vomited and cursed, "Damn it—wasn't it supposed to be machine-made cigarettes? Why are the cigarettes of such poor quality?—Will that filter the boss mentioned ever appear?"
"By the way, the boss mentioned last time that he wanted to buy a cigarette factory. Was he joking, or is he really planning to?"
Mr. K was merely talking to himself; his little follower, somewhat dull-witted, looked at him with a forced smile.
Just then, the prison's large iron gate opened, and a prison guard in a gray uniform stepped out.
Mr. K immediately changed his tune, walking towards the other person with a grin, and then handed over a pack of cigarettes from his suit jacket pocket.
"Thank you for your hard work, sir! I am Huang Meitang's friend, and I've come to visit him," Mr. K said with a smile.
The prison guard calmly took the pack of cigarettes, his fingers tightening slightly, already noticing that the pack contained a stack of US dollars.
Immediately, the warning light darted to the side, and he nodded inward with his chin. "Let's go—I'll take you to see him."
Mr. K waved to his henchman, and the two of them crossed the prison's large iron gate and headed towards the main building.
The iron gate creaked open and slammed shut again. At the end of the cold corridor lay the room for visiting prisoners. As Mr. K and his henchman entered, they saw a thin figure slowly rise, gripping the iron bars, looking at them with a complex expression—
"Huang! We've come to see you—" Mr. K smiled and took the rattan food box from his follower's hand, handing it over through a gap in the iron fence.
Huang Meitang wanted to say something, but his throat tightened. He took the food box handed to him and opened it. Inside, instead of the usual black bread and cured meat for prison visits, there was a plate of steaming Cantonese shrimp dumplings, a bowl of wonton noodles, and a small bottle of aged Shaoxing wine.
"This was specially instructed by the boss. He said you don't like white food, and since he rarely visits you, he doesn't want your stomach to suffer too," Mr. K said with a smile.
"Larry—Livingston—did he send you?"
Huang Meitang's voice was a little hoarse.
Mr. K then pulled out a pack of cigarettes, took out a few and handed them to the two prison guards, instructing them to leave the room so he could speak with the inmate alone. He then took out another cigarette, put it in his own mouth, and stuffed the remaining half pack into Huang Meitang's hand.
Lighting a cigarette, Mr. K said unhurriedly, "The boss said you still owe him a Chinese meal, so you have to live well. He's waiting to eat your cooking."
Huang Meitang's eyes were slightly red.
It had been almost two months since he entered prison. During that time, he had not been "treated" by his fellow inmates as rumored, nor had he had his teeth broken by the Irishmen—on the contrary, he was doing quite well here.
Huang Meitang wasn't stupid; he knew, of course, that someone was secretly taking care of him. At first, he thought it was Master Ye who had spent money to pull strings, and he even thought it was his current boss—Senator Kennedy—who was looking after him.
But it wasn't until two weeks ago, when an elderly Chinese gentleman named Yung Wing came to visit him, that Huang Meitang realized that Larry was the one who had been secretly helping him.
Seeing the blank look on the Chinese man's face, Mr. K smiled and instructed, "Eat it all while it's hot. I just got it from a Chinese restaurant. Don't even think about taking this stuff back to prison, otherwise, you won't get a chance to eat it, and there won't be anything left."
Huang Meitang nodded, placed the food box on the table, and began to eat heartily, while tears silently streamed down his face.
"My boss asked me to ask you how you've been lately. By the way, when is your trial scheduled?"
"I heard them say it's the end of June—" Huang Meitang stopped eating and said to Mr. K.
"Have you met with your lawyer?" Mr. K asked again.
"I've met him. He's a Chinese immigrant. He's not a full-time lawyer, but he knows a lot about the law."
"This old gentleman used to be at Yale University," Huang Meitang replied.
Mr. K nodded, took a drag of his cigarette, and said, "Don't worry, the boss is trying to find a way for you. Make sure you take care of yourself in prison—"
Huang Meitang nodded, ate his meal in large mouthfuls, then picked up the cigarette Mr. K had given him, a smile spreading across his face.
"This stuff is real currency! Mr. K, thank you. I don't smoke, but I can get a lot of convenience from these things."
Mr. K's eyes immediately lit up. He snatched the cigarette from his lips and asked, "—Tell me quickly what's going on? Is it possible to smoke cigarettes in prison? Why wasn't this the rule when I lived here two years ago?"
"Does this thing sell well?"
"They're selling well—" Huang Meitang said with a smile, explaining just how scarce cigarettes were in the prison. As she spoke, she noticed Mr. K looking anxious, scratching his head and looking worried.
"What's wrong with you?" Huang Meitang asked curiously.
"I didn't expect business in prison to be so good now—I'm going to expand my 717 convenience store business here. Huang, if you help me open up sales channels, I'll definitely benefit from you—" Mr. K said with a delighted expression.
Huang Meitang smiled and nodded, but then he remembered something, shook his head and smiled, saying, "I'm just a dying man, what's there to repay? Just for all the delicious food you brought me today, I'll definitely help you out."
Mr. K smiled and shook his finger. "No, you won't die!"
"Why?" Huang Meitang asked curiously.
Mr. K looked at him with a mysterious expression and said with a smile, "I don't know why—but do you know?"
The boss has already spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on you — although I don't quite understand his methods —
But I have a strange feeling that following the boss is definitely the right thing to do!
Huang Meitang's eyes widened, wanting to say something, but he had nothing to say. He was currently deep in prison, and just hearing this news was enough to make him happy. Why should he bother to clarify things?
Finally, Mr. K solemnly asked him, "Do you know the price of Mr. Kennedy's land along the river? The one right next to the Back Bend area!"
"I know!" Huang Meitang nodded. He had already started taking charge of Kennedy's internal affairs, so he knew about the relevant information regarding this land.
He then told Mr. K all the information about the land, including its area, current ownership status, and approximate estimated price.
After answering, Huang Meitang asked curiously, "Why are you asking these questions? This is all Senator's land—"
Mr. K looked bewildered. He stared at Huang Meitang and said hesitantly, "I don't know either. The boss asked me to buy this land anonymously—the boss said he wanted me to make a fortune—and he also said that he would never forget everyone who had ever helped him."