Chapter Seventeen: The New Elite of IT

The sudden emergence of White Software truly caught many companies off guard. Apple users were extremely pleased; at last, their computers were no longer mere ornaments. It seemed the computers themselves were not the issue—software was the real bottleneck!

Venture capitalists finally understood why their investments had been declined. Not only was the company flush with cash, even if it lacked funds, it would never allow them to invest. Their products were already perfected; how could they let outsiders profit so easily?

Venture capital stepped back, but several investment banks began to stir. This company was exceptional and would inevitably require an IPO. Perhaps they could secure Series A funding.

Not short on cash? If he wants to expand rapidly, financing becomes essential.

Their assessment was nearly spot-on: the company did not reject the idea of introducing strategic investors.

The only difference was that dozens of banks in New York had been left out. From this alone, one could see just how petty he could be—denying a loan was not without reason, yet he placed them on a blacklist for it. It seemed rather excessive.

Perhaps those banks didn’t care. At first, he was just an insignificant ant; refusing him was inconsequential. Now? He’s just a somewhat stronger ant. Would an elephant care about an ant’s feelings? Clearly not!

Still, the whole affair left a bad taste in their mouths. A bestselling author’s influence was not to be underestimated. If the opportunity presented itself, they would try to mend relations.

Within a few days, several thousand units of software had been shipped—an achievement that drew attention across the industry.

This represented hundreds of thousands of dollars in revenue. Based on Apple’s shipment numbers, the company’s monthly revenue could soon exceed one million.

It was clear now that a ten-million-dollar valuation was unreasonable. The owner, unless utterly foolish, would never accept such a price.

Meanwhile, Apple’s computer shipments began to surge. At the current pace, twenty thousand units a month was no longer out of reach.

Morgan Stanley’s earlier estimates were inadequate; an increased valuation was inevitable. If sales continued to climb, the valuation would need to rise by at least fifty percent.

As for White Software, the initial valuation was almost laughable. Forget ten million—even twenty million might not suffice.

The company wasn’t just focused on Apple. It had entered nearly all mainstream systems on the market. Apple held, at most, thirty percent of the share. This year’s revenue might well be measured in the millions; next year, perhaps in the tens of millions.

Concerned about costs? There might have been expenses during development, but once the product was launched, costs were minimal. The question now was: how long would the product’s lifecycle be? Would competitors emerge?

For now, there was only one player in the market. If rivals couldn’t catch up immediately, their chance would be gone.

Ultimately, the future remained uncertain. None of the IT giants were interested yet. If HP or Big Blue entered, other companies would be doomed.

Did the IT giants not see the potential of PCs? It wasn’t so simple. The mainframe business was thriving and highly profitable. With America’s relentless antitrust laws, they dared not expand too aggressively.

“Foster, rent a villa for me. The hotel is just too uncomfortable. A month is fine, but any longer and I can’t stand it.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll send someone to the Bay Area tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Foster.”

His stay at the Waldorf Hotel was quite pleasant. It was just another spell of his young master syndrome—finding discomfort even in a five-star hotel.

“Foster, arrange a celebration these next few days. Hand out a bonus to mark the occasion.”

“Yes, sir. How much should the bonus be?”

“Two thousand will do; there aren’t many people anyway.”

“Understood, sir.”

Handing out bonuses to subordinates was rare in America—certainly not unprecedented, but uncommon. Americans were a contract-driven society; whether salary or bonus, everything was spelled out in agreements. Bonuses like these were personal gestures, and if the amount was too large, it could cause trouble.

Still, everyone loves money. If you’re willing to give, few would refuse.

Given the current situation, almost everyone except William White himself was stunned, including the handful recruited early on in Texas.

White Software became famous overnight. The benefits were obvious, especially in recruitment—it became much easier.

Many now wanted to work there, but opportunities were scarce. Aside from highly specialized software engineers, other positions had long been filled.

Many regretted not joining earlier, having dismissed it as a risky new venture likely to fold within days. Their indifference then made it hard to get in now. The company wasn’t a household name, but in Silicon Valley, it was highly sought after.

The reason was simple: their benefits were extravagant. Word had spread throughout Silicon Valley—the owner was a Texas tycoon, quite different from the usual crowd.

Most Silicon Valley entrepreneurs had started from scratch. White Software was a true anomaly.

Fairchild Semiconductor was the founding father of Silicon Valley. Every company had some connection to them. White Software, however, was born on a ranch—a software company emerging from farmland.

This was undeniably amusing, with a touch of legend.

Texans were unpopular in America—and, to be frank, worldwide. They were seen as rough, rude, and fierce.

White Software’s security team were all Texans. Upon seeing the boss, they merely tipped their hats—a cowboy hat, not a security cap.

Such scenes are common on a ranch, but in Silicon Valley? No one could quite grasp what William White was thinking.

It was, in truth, a bit of personal eccentricity. Everyone knew he was quirky; a sudden, drastic change would be out of character.

Besides, what’s a tycoon without a hint of mischief? With status and wealth, others wouldn’t criticize you—and if they did, he wouldn’t care.

The new IT darling had yet to attract much outside attention; after all, the industry was not considered especially important.

It’s often said that your enemies know you best. Others might not pay attention, but the Hunter family had to. Their rivalry was now relentless; not keeping an eye on things would be impractical.

The outcome was clear: if a takeover battle broke out, it would be the Hunter family who lost.

How could an obscure company be worth fifty million? The world was truly strange.

That fifty-million-dollar valuation had been casually suggested by familiar investment banks. They assured that the price was solid, backed by bank guarantees. If it were a stock offering, fifty million wouldn’t cover it.

Now they had to consider cashing out. If William White ultimately reclaimed the company, their shares would be doomed. Recovering even half their investment would be considered lucky.