In the private room of the cafe, the air seemed to solidify.
After Lei Ling said, "Roughly… it's only enough for us to lay a foundation," she remained silent, observing William's reaction.
She had seen too many clients break down in front of a budget.
Some were furious, some looked ashen, some started to plead poverty and then tried to haggle.
But William's reaction was beyond her expectation.
He showed no shock, no anger, not even a hint of frustration.
He just picked up the now-cold coffee, took another sip, and then smacked his lips as if savoring a peerless vintage.
"A foundation, huh…"
William repeated thoughtfully.
Then he looked up, a smile appearing on his face that Lei Ling found unfamiliar, almost fanatical.
"This means our project is grand enough."
A flicker of bewilderment crossed Lei Ling's glasses.
What kind of thought process was this?
A normal person, hearing this news, shouldn't they be considering scaling down the project or abandoning it altogether?
"Mr. Rodriguez, I need to remind you that the 'foundation' I mentioned is based on the premise that we are building the 'Abyss of the Underworld'."
Lei Ling felt it necessary to make herself clearer, lest this young boss be overly optimistic.
"This includes deep geological modification, establishing an initial energy supply core, and laying the most basic structural support. Just these alone will consume almost all special alloys available on the market and require the construction of an independent nuclear fusion reactor for power."
"I understand."
William waved his hand, signaling her not to explain further.
Of course, he understood.
What he wanted was not an ordinary Underground Room, but a super prison capable of holding gods and monsters.
If it could be done for one or two hundred million U.S. dollars, that would be a joke.
That thing might not even be able to hold Abomination, let alone those flashy magic and psychic ability users.
Expensive, that's right.
Expensive, that means it's valuable.
"Miss Lei, you don't need to worry about money."
William pulled out his phone from his suit's inner pocket and tapped it against Lei Ling's phone opposite him.
Soon, Lei Ling's phone vibrated.
She looked down; it was a bank deposit notification.
"Ten million U.S. dollars."
William's voice was flat.
"This is your signing bonus and the initial funding for the first phase of the project. You can use it to build your team, purchase necessary equipment, or, first, pay off your debt."
"Additionally, I've installed an artificial intelligence on your phone. You can call it 'contract'. If you need more money, or need to look up information, or contact me, you can do it all through contract."
Lei Ling held her phone, her fingers turning a little White from the effort.
For three years, this was the first time she felt her talents, which had been dismissed as "crazy," were affirmed so simply and directly.
No empty promises, no bounced checks.
A budget of one hundred million U.S. dollars isn't enough?
No problem, here's ten million to start, to put your mind at ease.
This style of action gave her an unprecedented sense of security.
"My madness, you're paying for it?"
Lei Ling looked up, a barely perceptible tremor in her clear, cool voice.
"Of course."
William leaned back in his chair, hands clasped over his abdomen, striking the pose of a successful entrepreneur.
"Your task is to smash out the boundaries of human imagination for me with rebar and concrete. As for the money… that's my job."
"I need a specific number."
Lei Ling quickly returned to her professional state, opening her tablet and pulling up a complex spreadsheet.
"A total budget. That way, I can perform reasonable cost control and phased planning."
William pondered for a moment.
He looked at Lei Ling, the most suitable tool… oh no, partner, that "contract" had found.
He needed to give her a goal, a goal that would make her burn completely.
"Let's plan it as a ten-billion-U.S.-dollar project for now."
William said casually.
"Pfft—" Lei Ling couldn't hold back and sprayed a mouthful of coffee directly onto the folder in front of her.
She fumbled for a tissue, her cheeks flushed red from coughing.
One… ten billion?
U.S. dollars?
This was no longer a construction project; this was equivalent to a small country's entire annual military budget, just to build a private island?
"If it's not enough," William added, satisfied with her disheveled appearance, "we'll add more."
Lei Ling wiped her mouth, feeling her Worldview repeatedly shattered and reassembled within just ten minutes.
She finally understood that she hadn't found a boss.
She had found a madman.
A madman even crazier than her, and one who had the ability to pay for that madness.
"I understand."
Lei Ling took a deep breath, stood up, and bowed solemnly to William.
"Mr. Rodriguez, from now on, I am your chief engineer. Give me three days, and I will give you a design blueprint that the entire World will tremble for."
After speaking, she picked up her belongings and left the private room without looking back.
Her steps were more resolute than ever before.
After seeing off the invigorated Lei Ling, William sat alone in the private room, the smile on his face gradually fading.
He had boasted and made promises, and now, the problem arose.
Where was the money?
Ten billion U.S. dollars?
If he sold himself, he wouldn't be worth even a fraction of that amount.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s one hundred fifty million now seemed like a mere whisper.
William rubbed his temples.
The abilities he extracted were great; they could save his life and help him fight.
But they couldn't be directly converted into cash.
He needed clients, clients who could bring in huge cash flow.
Street heroes were clearly out of the question; their insurance policies were more of a long-term investment for extracting their abilities.
Official organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. could pay, but they were incredibly stingy, and each time he had to risk his life, making the cost-effectiveness too low.
He had to find new, more valuable "high-net-worth clients."
In William's mind, the "business card" he had slipped Thor when he left came to mind.
"I will mention your 'insurance' to my father, Odin Borson, Allfather of the gods."
Odin!
The King of Asgard!
Was this client "high-net-worth" enough?
William's heart uncooperatively skipped two beats.
Selling insurance to a God-King?
The product would be called "Asgard All-Domain Comprehensive Insurance."
Coverage includes, but is not limited to: Ragnarok, Nine Realms rebellion, infighting among heirs, Infinity Stones theft… How much should the premium be?
A Planet?
A galaxy?
This thought was so stimulating that William felt a bit short of breath.
But then another problem arose: how to contact Odin?
By the time Thor remembered, it would be a long, long time from now.
He couldn't just stand in New Mexico every day shouting, "Heimdall, open the door," could he?
The plan was good, but it lacked feasibility.
Just as William fell into contemplation, considering whether to kidnap an astronomer and force him to build a super loudspeaker that could shout at Asgard, his phone rang.
An unfamiliar number, from local New York.
William frowned, casually answered, his tone not very pleasant: "Who is this? No soliciting for grave plots; I have my own island."
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