105: Chapter 105 Gobi "Spire", 2K Nest City New Elite

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After seeing this super factory stretching across the Gobi from the hills, Tom's heart hadn't slowed down once.

Silver-gray steel-structured factory buildings stretched as far as the eye could see, with long lines of freight trucks moving in and out.

He drove his car to the gate. Just as he was about to pull out his business card, a rough female voice came through the intercom, speaking as fast as a machine gun:

"From an institution? Don't waste your breath. We have no financing plans, no IPO plans, and we don't accept any institutional research."

"All information is subject to the official website. Move your car quickly; don't block the trucks behind you picking up goods."

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Tom hurriedly leaned out of the car window and shouted, "I'm here representing Goldman Sachs to discuss cooperation. We can offer you the best IPO underwriting plan, and..."

"Not interested."

The woman cut off the intercom immediately.

Tom could only reverse and retreat to the roadside in frustration.

He leaned back in his seat, unwilling to just run away like this.

Tom knew very well that he was just an intern. If he couldn't achieve results, there was a high probability he wouldn't be able to stay at a top investment bank like Goldman Sachs.

A massive opportunity was right in front of him. If he went back empty-handed, it would be like saying goodbye to Goldman Sachs!

What Tom couldn't understand now was that normal startups would be desperate to suck up to investors from Goldman Sachs. This company, however, just kicked people out. Wall Street was lining up to give them money, and they wouldn't even let them in the door.

This was not the "shabby little factory" his colleagues had described at all.

Tom didn't give up. He drove around the factory perimeter for twenty minutes and found the dedicated entrance for freight trucks.

Inside the open gates, a fully automated freight dispatch system was operating. Container trucks drove in one after another without any manual registration required throughout the process.

Tom stepped on the gas and blended into the truck convoy.

As soon as he drove into the factory area, he was stunned by the sight before him.

The battery cell production workshop, dozens of meters long, was operating in a fully enclosed environment. Through the explosion-proof glass, hundreds of robotic arms could be seen precisely completing feeding, packaging, testing, and palletizing. There wasn't a single worker the entire time; only a few maintenance personnel in the control room were staring at screens.

He had researched Toyota's top production lines and seen Foxconn's million-level workshops, but he had never seen a factory with such a terrifying level of automation.

While he was dazed, the security room noticed something unusual, and the alarm suddenly sounded.

A prompt popped up on the central control screen: Unauthorized vehicle locked. Please proceed to the security room immediately for verification, otherwise, the removal procedure will be triggered.

Tom's heart tightened, but he didn't panic.

This kind of situation wasn't rare. In America, a private super factory was legally private territory, and the owner was the local king of that land.

Once inside this gate, their rules were law. Let alone an investment bank analyst like him, even the FBI wouldn't dare barge in without a warrant.

These cities-within-cities were everywhere in America.

From farm estates spanning tens of thousands of acres to factories of several thousand acres, as long as the private property rights were held, the owner was the extrajudicial monarch here, no different from the Dutton Ranch next to Yellowstone.

He followed the navigation and drove the car to the security room entrance. As soon as he got out, he was surrounded by four fully armed, masked security personnel.

No one cursed at him, no one searched him, and they didn't even say a single harsh word.

The four men just stood in a surrounding formation. One of them handed over a registration form and said, "Register your identity information, sign the trespass notification, and then leave the factory area."

Tom cooperated throughout. After signing, he was politely "escorted" out of the factory gates.

However, Tom didn't leave. The more he saw, the more unwilling he was to go.

He drove around the factory wall for another half hour and finally found a maintenance sewer opening in the northwest corner.

He used a crowbar to pry open the rusty iron bars and crawled inside.

Tom thought he was being stealthy, but he didn't see the surveillance camera overhead. The moment he crawled in, the footage was transmitted to the control room.

A security guard glanced at the screen and said into the intercom, "The boss ordered before that if a Wall Street rat comes in, don't catch him immediately. Let him wander around for a bit before escorting him out."

When Tom climbed out of the sewer, he was instantly stunned.

The messy factory buildings and crowded worker dormitories he had imagined didn't appear at all.

Before him was a neatly planned campus. The roads were spotless, and groups of engineers were gathered everywhere in the campus, each with a laptop in hand.

Tom secretly clicked his tongue at this high-intensity work state.

In his impression, the atmosphere of tech companies was usually very relaxed... and there seemed to be very few female engineers or programmers here.

Weren't they afraid of being sued for gender discrimination?

Fortunately, there were no uniform work clothes, and everyone dressed very casually. Tom swaggered into the living area and began his tour.

Rows of modular folding space capsule mobile homes were arranged in an orderly fashion. Each unit was a small duplex with its own independent balcony.

Unmanned supermarkets, a 24-hour canteen, indoor basketball courts, and a gym were all available. There was even a community hospital.

The level of activity far exceeded that of the neighboring Yellowstone town.

Tom ducked into a restaurant and sat nearby as if nothing was wrong to eavesdrop. This was an essential skill for a researcher... at least that's what the old seniors said. Sometimes, to obtain intelligence, one needs to set aside integrity and morality.

After all, humans are born with sin; a little more wouldn't hurt.

"Jack, are the property rights for your space capsule finalized?"

"They're finalized. As long as I work for three full years, the title is transferred directly. No money needed."

"And as long as you're in this town, even property taxes are waived! My God, I worked in Silicon Valley for five years and couldn't even scrape together a down payment for an apartment. Here, in just three years, I actually have my own house!"

"Tell me about it. When I was laid off by Google last year, my wife was going to divorce me, and I almost went bankrupt. If God hadn't guided me here, I'd probably be sleeping under a bridge right now."

Another bearded white man nearby leaned in and said with a smile, "You guys still believe in God? I only believe in what the boss says now. Our boss is a follower of God's second son. Have you heard of the Bai Shangdi Sect?"

"I looked it up online. It's an Eastern sect founded over a hundred years ago. Mr. Hong Xiuquan is God's second son and Jesus' younger brother. The doctrine is that suffering can be redeemed through labor, and loyalty can be exchanged for blessings!"

"Hahaha, I don't care what religion it is. If it can give me a house and a car and let my wife and kids eat their fill, I'll believe in it!"

Tom hid nearby, unsurprised.

In America, sects were everywhere. There were plenty of people who worshipped Satan; a Bai Shangdi Sect was nothing at all.

But he keenly captured the key point: the employees here didn't just simply approve of the founder named Fu Haoran; it was a near-fanatical worship.

This Chinese boss, who had never shown his face, was the source of all the core technology.

"Have you heard the boss talk about it? He said what we're doing now is all testing for future interstellar colonization. I thought it was just big talk at first, but looking at these space capsules and this battery technology, it might actually happen!"

"I heard the boss is already planning to build rockets."

"By the way, the road test data for the vehicle assembly line is out. The range can already reach 1,200 kilometers, with a fast charge of 80% in 10 minutes. In three rollover crash tests, the battery didn't even smoke. The boss said costs need to be pushed down a bit more, and mass production can start by the end of the year."

"Cool, the future belongs to new energy vehicles."

Tom listened with great interest, even considering joining the company himself.

Free housing, property taxes covered, unlimited R&D, industry-crushing technology, and even the dream of interstellar colonization was backed by solid products.

Just as Tom was engrossed in listening, two security guards walked over. Again, there was no hitting or scolding, and no body search. They simply brought him to the parking lot.

Before he left, a guard handed him a bottle of mineral water and said, "Don't crawl through the sewer next time. If you want a tour, just make an appointment and register in advance."

Tom's face flushed with heat.

It turned out they had known everything from the moment he crawled in.

He jumped into his pickup truck, his hands still shaking, and immediately dialed his boss's number.

As soon as the call connected, he started shouting incoherently:

"Boss! We've struck gold! A massive treasure!"

"DYB isn't some small company selling power banks! This is the next Apple! No! It's the next GM!"

"If they can go public, they'll definitely be a hundred-billion-level giant! We must land them! No matter the cost!"

A lazy middle-aged male voice came from the other end of the phone, with unconcealed mockery and impatience:

"Tom? Which Tom? The intern? I don't recall giving you my private number."

"Yes, yes! I'm Tom, the intern from the investment banking department. Boss, I've discovered a hundred-billion-level unicorn project..."

"You're fired," the other end interrupted impatiently.

Tom couldn't believe his ears. "Boss, is there some mistake?"

"No mistake. Because you bypassed your superiors to report directly, violating company policy, you can get lost now."

Without waiting for Tom's explanation, the other party hung up directly.

Tom held his phone, frozen in the driver's seat for a long time.

...

Inside the super factory, Fu Haoran found that everything was different from what he had expected!

"Why! I'm already a billionaire with financial freedom, so why do I still have to work so hard?!"

During this period, Fu Haoran had practically lived at the factory... to be precise, he slept on a cot, ate takeout bento, and showered in the factory's staff bathroom.

His quality of life was actually no different from when he was the Governor of a Warhammer Hive City.

There was no other reason than that there were simply too many things to handle.

On his desk were three stacks of documents: on the left were military orders from the Warhammer World, requiring confirmation of battery capacity, laser gun upgrades, and tank chassis modification progress.

In the middle were the operation reports for the 2K factory, requiring approval for production line expansion, supply chain contracts, and R&D budgets for new vehicle models.

On the right were unopened packages containing industry reports filtered by Jarvis as "worth a look," each as thick as a brick.

As a company established for less than a year, almost everything required Fu Haoran's personal attention.

Even though Jarvis had helped resolve many things, there were still many trivial matters waiting for Fu Haoran to solve.

Just then, the Multiverse System, which never thought things were big enough, popped up to cause trouble again:

[Detected that the host has built a private Spire in the 2K Hive City (North American continent), with a territory control of 92%, officially unlocking the Hive City Noble status!]

[Prompt: Current military production capacity and territory scale still have significant room for improvement. To reach the Sector High Noble rating, more territories and industrial chains need to be expanded.]

[System Warning: Detected that the 'Yellowstone Spire' established by the host in the 2K World has officially activated the Warp Rifts in this world. Dozens of weak Warp Rift nodes are hidden deep in the world's crust, directly connecting to the Chaos Dimension. As the host's status in the Hive City rises and territory expands, these rifts will gradually enlarge, triggering chain disasters.]

[The 'Ten Plagues of the Hive City' Annual Catastrophe series of missions has been activated. Core Rules:]

[Within the North American Hive City, one catastrophe will be triggered every year. In ten years, all ten plagues will be collected, with the difficulty increasing level by level.]

[Mission Requirement: Survive the disaster or end the disaster.]

[Mission Attribute: Available to all Multiverse Players.]

[Mission Reward: Exclusive rewards guaranteed for each plague.]

[System Prompt: The first plague of the North American Hive City, the Plague of the Blood Moon, is about to be triggered. Please be prepared, Host.]

Fu Haoran stared at the system prompt for a long time.

"One disaster a year? And the Four Chaos Gods take turns coming to the door?"

He leaned back in his chair and suddenly laughed:

"I'm tired. Just let it all be destroyed."

Fu Haoran didn't want to care anymore. The Warhammer World was already enough of a headache; why did he have to face constant trouble after coming back?

Fu Haoran looked at the words [Available to all Multiverse Players] on the system panel and raised an eyebrow.

"So I'm not the only transmigrator? There are other Multiverse Players rushing to save the world? Then it's even less of my business."

"Anyway, the system said as long as I can survive. Let the task of saving the world be handled by players from other multiverse worlds."

"If the sky falls, the tall ones will prop it up. North America is so big, Pentagon is still there, the US Army is still there. Why should it hit me first?"