Chapter Fifty-Two: Figures of Influence

The University of Southern California was welcoming back a remarkable alumnus. He had already been exceptional when he left, but now he returned in the manner of a king. Though some felt envy and jealousy, no one showed it on the surface. Those who confront others directly are nothing but fictional creations; even if someone isn’t eager to forge connections, there’s no need to make enemies. William White cared little for what others thought; he had deliberately kept a low profile, hoping not to offend anyone.

Large lectures were lively affairs; classroom discipline was minimal, but at least it was better than in high school. American high schools were truly chaotic, with teachers rarely intervening. To thrive in a university in America, you had to join a fraternity or some club. If you wanted things to go smoothly, it was best to hold some position. College is a miniature society, rife with competition and rivalry; being too low-key wouldn’t work. Americans don’t favor modesty—maintaining a certain level of participation and a touch of flamboyance is the way to survive.

William White was already a member of a fraternity. He held no particular office, but still got along well; no one wanted trouble with the wealthy, a universal truth in any country.

“Boss, where should we eat?” someone asked.

“Where else? Let’s just eat on campus. I want to play basketball afterward, are you coming?”

“It’s been a while, let’s go together.”

One shouldn’t expect gourmet meals in college; as long as you could eat your fill, it was good enough. Americans really aren’t fussy about food—the gap between the poor and the rich wasn’t large, everyone ate hot dogs and hamburgers, regardless of status. In fact, William White enjoyed the campus hamburgers, savoring them with relish.

USC’s basketball program wasn’t famous; no professionals came to show them up. Plus, as sophomores, they now had the right to lord over others—the seasoned seniors had graduated. Today was the first day; slipping away early wouldn’t be appropriate. Later, coming for just half a day would suffice, since there was little here to actually learn.

Some say you learn nothing in college, but that isn’t true. College is a small society; if you can’t handle yourself here, you’ll fail miserably in the adult world. What college teaches most importantly is a way of thinking; if you master it early, you can graduate ahead of time.

Their basketball skills were truly lacking—a group of first-year rookies watched in disbelief, but they simply didn’t wish to cause trouble.

Basketball really was a game for the black guys; others truly couldn’t compete. It was a matter of physique, and even if there was a rare exception like Yao, he was no match for the Dream Team. Speed is the foundation of all sports, and the black guys were fast thanks to their genes—those who couldn’t run had long been eaten by lions, and the survivors were formidable.

William White played quite well, at least his three-point shooting was accurate. If he wasn’t worried about startling the others, his success rate would be even higher.

Their basketball wasn’t great, but there were plenty of girls watching, making the rookies envy them endlessly. If it weren’t for the first day of school, they would have planned to teach these guys a lesson.

“Anthony, if these rookies come back tomorrow, let’s give them a lesson,” a big black guy said excitedly.

“Luca, don’t be silly. The girls aren’t here to watch basketball; their target is the guy with short hair.”

“Who is he? Is he really that impressive?”

“Best-selling author, billionaire—that’s about all I know.”

“Damn, how is anyone supposed to compete? That bastard.”

The big guy was clearly shaken; his basketball skills were average, but among the black players, even average was better than William White and his friends.

After an hour of play, they left to the cheers of the girls. The girls were quite pleased, but the other men wore sour expressions.

They were already campus celebrities, and now another impressive figure had joined their ranks. Arrogance was inevitable—it’s a common fault of youth.

The afternoon classes ended quickly. William White didn’t linger; he returned directly to his mansion. After a long break from classes, suddenly reverting to the old routine felt somewhat uncomfortable.

“Sir, there’s news from Boeing. They have a 747 without a buyer; forty million will close the deal, and it could be delivered by the end of the year,” Uncle Ford said with a smile.

“The end of the year? That’s fine. The money we made on futures will cover it. What’s the style of the interior?”

“There’s a lot of gold leaf, and all the carpets are Persian.”

“Ha, so it’s a desert tycoon style. Remove the religious elements, the rest can stay as is.”

“All right, sir. That might even help us bargain for a better price.”

A reliable plane was necessary, but after buying this one, keeping a low profile would be impossible. Such large private planes were rare in America; a Bombardier was already impressive. Big jets had their drawbacks—airports of this era weren’t great, and many smaller places couldn’t accommodate a 747, which required a massive airport.

The microcomputer version of the database software was finally on the shelves, expanding the reach of personal computers once again. The old-timers finally stopped complaining; none wished to become a laughingstock.

William White was uncertain about software planning. The chess project by Big Blue should have been launched already; he wasn’t sure if it was still Bill Gates. Without industry giants backing it, an operating system was just wishful thinking. Without one, all software was wasted effort and would eventually be absorbed by others.

Big Blue was also hesitating. White Software’s advantages were obvious, but their ties to Apple were too close. To ensure the secrecy of their plans, they didn’t want to take risks.

William White had no intention of developing an operating system. The stakes were too high, and there were plenty of ways to make money. There was no need to spoil Bill’s opportunities.

His goal was to quietly be a tycoon, not to trample everyone underfoot. The media industry suited him well—money and women were abundant, which was the true mark of reaching life’s peak!

Although he wouldn’t develop an operating system, it was necessary to gain some benefit. Before System 3.0 appeared, Microsoft wasn’t too expensive. As long as Windows 95 hadn’t launched, there were plenty of opportunities to invest.

With his decision made, William White felt no more hesitation. He had to return to school the next day and chose to sleep early—the day had been exhausting.

He slept soundly, while the Hunter family was troubled. They noticed that the long-term silver positions were decreasing. Though the other side was careful, they still sensed something was amiss.

Fortunately, the amounts weren’t too large; otherwise, it would be a real headache.

There was nothing they could do now; their situation was like a cargo ship speeding along—slowing down wasn’t an option, not even changing direction. With things as they were, pressing forward was the only choice.