Chapter 8 One dared to report, the other dared to give

In front of the computer, Li Jiajun rubbed his hands, his face beaming with the excitement of someone about to strike it rich.

He felt he had grasped the lifeblood of this "artist" Big Brother—the man didn't lack money; what he lacked was an "executor" who could realize the fantastic whims in his head. And he, Li Jiajun, was the chosen one!

"Since it's art, the price can't be calculated like ordinary toys. Can the value of an artwork be measured in money? Yes! And it must be measured as expensive!"

He clicked on the private chat window, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

Young Factory Director Li: "Big Brother, this project of ours is art, it's a dream! For someone like me, talking about money feels vulgar. But I have no choice; over a hundred brothers at the factory are waiting for me to provide for them. We can't just live on air while making art, right?"

Young Factory Director Li: "So, even between brothers, we should keep clear accounts."

He started with a preamble, portraying himself as a tragic man of action who was "dedicated to art but forced to bow for a meager wage."

Then, he opened the computer's built-in calculator and began his "professional" cost accounting.

"First, material costs. The drones I designed don't use that cheap plastic found on the market. They must be made of carbon fiber composite—light and strong. For ten thousand units, just the materials alone... let's say two million?"

He muttered to himself while pressing "2,000,000" on the calculator.

"Then there are the motors and flight control chips. We have to use the best ones, otherwise we'd be doing a disservice to the word 'artwork.' This part is expensive; for ten thousand sets, let's say three million."

He then pressed "+3,000,000."

"Next are the workers' wages, bonuses, overtime pay, as well as the factory's utilities and machine wear and tear... adding it all up, that should be another million."

"+1,000,000."

"Finally, and most importantly, my artistic guidance fee and technical patent fee! These are the results of my two moments of enlightenment this afternoon; they're priceless! But since Big Brother supports my artistic career so much, I'll give you a friendship price and just charge four million."

"+4,000,000."

"Equals..."

Li Jiajun looked at the long string of numbers on the calculator, and his heart skipped a beat.

Ten million!

He was startled by the figure he had quoted.

"Holy crap, am I being a bit too greedy? Ten million for a bunch of toy drones? Even if this guy is an artist, he can't be that much of a sucker, right?"

He felt a bit uneasy, sensing that if he sent this price, the other party would likely block him.

But then he had a change of heart.

"I'm being too self-deprecating! How can the world of an artist be judged by the logic of an ordinary mortal like me? Van Gogh's paintings were worthless while he was alive, but became priceless after he died! My 'Wrath of the Hive' is living art, flying art—it's way more advanced than his dead paintings!"

"Ten million for an unprecedented piece of performance art, for a chance to leave a name in art history! Cheap! It's too cheap!"

He quickly bolstered his confidence, and his face regained its self-assurance.

To make the quote look more professional and "artistic," he even opened PPT software and began creating a budget proposal with great fanfare.

He specifically chose a dynamic template of a black starry sky that looked high-end and impressively obscure.

On the cover, he wrote a line in a flamboyant artistic font: "Budget Proposal for Large-scale Aerial Light and Shadow Interactive Art Installation."

Subtitle: "Wrath of the Hive" — A Post-modern Deconstructionist Dance of Light and Shadow.

As he worked, he admired his own prose, muttering, "Look at this, look at this phrasing, this style! What is professional? This is professional! Big Brother will call me a pro when he sees this!"

He split the ten-million-yuan budget into various headache-inducing items like "Soul Conception Fee," "Material Substantialization Fee," and "Collective Unconscious Algorithm Implantation Fee," each followed by a long string of zeros.

After finishing, he checked it carefully, nodded in satisfaction, and then sent the PPT through encrypted software.

After doing all this, Li Jiajun breathed a long sigh of relief and stared tensely at the screen, waiting for the final "judgment." He had even decided that if the other party thought it was too expensive, he would offer a 10% discount, but no more.

...

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away.

Inside a heavily guarded underground command center somewhere in Middle East, the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, sweat, and cheap cigarettes.

Huge military maps hung on the walls, and several men in combat gear were gathered around them, arguing heatedly.

In a corner of the command center, a tall man with most of his face covered by a headscarf sat at a computer. He was "A White Cloth on the Head," the leader of this armed organization, Hassan.

A capable adjutant stood beside him, looking at the screen anxiously.

"Leader, that Chinese sent the proposal," the adjutant said in a low voice.

Hassan nodded, his face as calm as water, and opened the PPT file titled "Budget Proposal for Large-scale Aerial Light and Shadow Interactive Art Installation."

When he saw the "Post-modern Deconstructionist Dance" subtitle on the cover, the adjutant's mouth twitched visibly. He whispered to Hassan, "Leader, I still think this is unreliable. This person talks nonsense about art and dancing; could he be a scammer?"

Hassan ignored the adjutant. His gaze skipped directly over those flashy artistic terms and landed precisely on the name "Wrath of the Hive."

"'Wrath of the Hive'... a good name," he evaluated silently. "Wrath is exactly what we need right now."

He flipped directly to the final page for the budget overview.

When he saw the number on it, the adjutant gasped.

"Leader, ten million?!" The adjutant's voice was filled with shock and concern. "This price... this..."

"This is way too low! If he's really selling that kind of drone swarm, ten million RMB wouldn't even cover the costs! And it's in RMB; could this be a trap? Does he want to use an absurdly low price to scam us out of a deposit?"

The adjutant was somewhat agitated. "Think about it, even a basic military reconnaissance drone system costs millions of ugly yuan. His 'swarm' of ten thousand units with collaborative combat algorithms is selling for less than 1.5 million ugly yuan? This makes no sense at all! He must be a scammer!"

Hassan didn't speak. Looking at the number, he also fell into a long silence.

He also felt the price was suspiciously low.

"Why is it so low?"

The thought circled in his mind.

"Could I have guessed wrong, and that thing is really just a toy?" The thought flashed by but was immediately dismissed.

Impossible! That perfect algorithm, that impeccable redundancy design, and that profound understanding of electronic warfare—these could never belong to someone who designs toys!

"Then that means..." Hassan's eyes narrowed.

"He's a novice!"

"He has no idea what the things in his hands actually mean on the battlefield!"

"He's using a toy-selling mindset to quote me arms prices!"

"Or... is this a business habit of Dongguo people? Offering a rock-bottom price for the first deal to establish a long-term partnership?"

Regardless of the possibility, for him, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! A godsend that could change the war situation in Middle East!

He no longer hesitated and gave the order to the adjutant.

"Notify the finance department to pay a fifty percent deposit to this account immediately. Five million RMB, not a single cent less." (Parallel universe, don't overthink it)

"Leader?!" The adjutant was stunned by his decision. "But the risk..."

"Execute the order!" Hassan's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable power.

"Yes!" The adjutant's body shook; he immediately stood at attention, saluted, turned, and walked away quickly.

Hassan was left alone in the command center.

He opened the PPT again, looked at the grandiose title "Wrath of the Hive," and laughed softly.

"artist... quite interesting."

"I hope your 'artwork' can bring me surprises, just like your boasts."