At this moment, a historic castle hotel on the outskirts of Boston was surrounded by a triple-layered cordon of burly men in black suits and dark sunglasses.
Snipers in unmarked combat fatigues were already in position on high ground, and patrol teams with large wolfhounds made their rounds every two to three minutes.
Fisher was amazed by such a grand display.
"If the Giant God were in charge, only thirty soldiers would be needed for the defense here.
We would set up alert turrets at key intersections, deploy invisible unmanned attack drones, and of course, snipers.
I've found many promising recruits this year, including one named Prophet, whose marksmanship is top-notch!" John said while driving the Mercedes.
"Well, there's nothing we can do about it when today's host is a Kennedy!" Fisher straightened his shirt, and after John parked the car at the hotel entrance, he slowly got out.
"Look who it is, Fisher Adams, the leader of our young generation.
Hey brother, how have you been lately?" A stylish woman in a suit, with short, choppy hair and a side fringe, who looked very sunny and handsome, came forward and hugged Fisher.
"Eating well, drinking well, doing great!" Fisher felt the touch on his chest and couldn't help but feel a little regretful.
She used to be a C-cup in college; how did she end up like this now?
Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy, currently one of the most rebellious members of the Kennedy family, if not the most.
Fisher remembered when he went to college after retiring, she was a very hot, wavy-haired bombshell, with great figure, looks, and temperament.
At the time, Fisher had really wanted to start something with her, but it turned out she was a lesbian.
She treated Fisher like a brother, but Fisher wanted to sleep with her.
Although the idea of messing with his 'brother' fell through, Rose didn't treat Fisher poorly.
She would always drag Fisher along whenever she went out with her beautiful girlfriends.
Unexpectedly, after graduating and joining the conglomerate, she cut her hair, got tattoos, and even had breast reduction surgery, openly fraternizing with several pretty female secretaries in the company.
Such rebellious behavior naturally caused her brothers and parents endless worry, but her grandparents' generation doted on her.
Coupled with her own outstanding abilities—she didn't just spend her time idly at Harvard—she leveraged Boston's inherent advantages to make a significant name for herself in information technology.
"Where's Kate? I don't see her."
"Oh, please.
She's the only capable secretary I have.
I don't want her getting too entangled with you!" Fisher swat away the other's hand from his suit in annoyance.
"Aren't we good brothers? Good things should be shared, shouldn't they?"
"Shut your fake up! Don't even think about it.
If you dare to get within ten meters of Kate, I'll send the media that video of you and those cheerleaders dancing like * *!"
"Really? As if you weren't stripped naked that day!"
"Don't even mention it!" Fisher felt a pang of sorrow.
Who said alcohol leads to wild nights?
Why was he limp and unable to stand after getting drunk?
He shouldn't have hung out with this guy in the first place!
"Alright, enough about that.
Any good business opportunities lately? Let us enjoy the convenience of being with a multinational trust!"
"Business?" Fisher pondered for a moment.
The Kennedy family's current businesses were primarily traditional manufacturing, aerospace, materials, finance, electronics, energy, and oil.
There were many areas where the McCallan Group's business conflicted with theirs, and with the Kennedy name as a banner, there was a good chance!
Fisher nodded, just about to tell the other party his initial idea, when he noticed the guy had already walked towards another BMW sedan.
"Heh heh, you little girl, still as eccentric as ever!" An elderly man chuckled as he stepped out of the car, and Rose eagerly linked her arm with his.
Rex Kennedy, rumored to be a cousin of President Kennedy, once served as the director of the NSA.
However, with Kennedy's assassination by a Carcano rifle, his directorship quickly came to an end.
"Sir, good afternoon!" Both out of courtesy and as a young representative of the Adams family, Fisher had to show his respect.
He bowed slightly and greeted the man.
"You too, good afternoon, Mr. Adams! Why didn't I see your grandfather this time?"
"They went to Antarctica on an expedition ship to see penguins.
My uncle led the team this time, and they've already gone inside!"
"Oh, oh, then I should go in too! Can't keep them waiting!"
Fisher didn't move as Rex walked inside.
He first smoked a cigarette outside.
In fact, he had no desire to get involved in these so-called consortium meetings, as his focus of work was different from other families.
After finishing a cigarette, Fisher slowly strolled into the conference hall.
At this moment, a bald middle-aged man was babbling about a pile of financial data: how much market share had grown, which national markets had been developed, and of course, accusations against Rockefeller and curses against the Morgan syndicate.
Fisher's entrance was neither too loud nor too quiet, and his movement naturally drew the attention of many, but they merely glanced at him before returning their focus to the speaker.
"You smoked again?" As soon as he sat down, his 'dad' next to him whispered.
"Just one!"
"Then at least smoke a good cigarette.
A $9 Marlboro, are you serious?"
"Mainly, I like to crush a $9 cigarette butt with a $99 shoe!"
"You little rascal! Always coming up with new tricks!"
Fisher chuckled and took a sip from the water bottle on the table.
The speaker on the floor had now changed to a representative from another family.
Their textile industry already accounted for nearly half of the entire Americas, and they were now planning to raise alpacas in Peru, so they came to the banking sector controlled by the consortium for financing.
Internal financing was no longer a novelty within the consortium.
Strictly speaking, it was just moving money from one hand to the other, sometimes even without interest.
A group of old men in their fifties, sixties, and seventies whispered for a while and then voted to approve.
Thus, that gentleman received an initial investment of one billion.
If the alpaca market boomed, there would be more investment in the future.
"How long do we have to wait here?" Fisher couldn't help but yawn and asked Salilter Adams, his uncle, who was sitting to his right.
This was Fisher's 'uncle,' and also one of the four shareholders of the Giant God.
Of course, he only held a symbolic five percent, but the annual dividends from that amounted to at least several hundred million greenbacks, essentially found money.
"Another hour!" His uncle understood Fisher's current demeanor.
In fact, he was also impatient.
The time spent in this boring meeting would be better spent playing golf, drinking fine wine, and buying a few collectible paintings.
"How do you usually handle this kind of thing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, these meetings!"
"Look at your father!"
Fisher turned his head and saw that his 'dad' was already fast asleep, but without a single snore.
He sat upright and nodded occasionally, as if he were seriously attending the meeting.
"If I didn't have to say a few words later, I'd be sleeping more soundly than him right now!"
"Alright then!"
After waiting for another almost thirty minutes, his uncle straightened his suit, pushed back his chair, and walked up.
The Adams family actually started by selling weapons, like Bell Helicopter.
Many people might not recognize the company name, but if you mention their products, like the UH-1 Huey, AH-1 Cobra, and MV-22 Osprey tiltrotor, those are all Bell products.
Of course, now we also have to add the MV-44 Cormorant (from "Act of Aggression"), which is a four-rotor heavy transport aircraft.
This was Fisher's investment in Bell.
Actually, Fisher initially wanted to acquire Bell directly, but he eventually gave up.
Firstly, Bell Helicopter was an international large enterprise, and secondly, there were many Adams family members in the company.
Finally, Fisher chose to invest with technology, which also helped his family members.
What his uncle was going to talk about was also very simple.
The Department of Defense had proposed a concept for a light armed reconnaissance helicopter.
Bell, combining some features from the AH-1 Cobra, OH-58 Kiowa Warrior, and RAH-66 Comanche, plus the ducted fan provided by the Giant God, integrated them into an OH-70 helicopter, code-named "Zaunite," which looked like a scaled-down Comanche.
Because the military's requirement was for light reconnaissance and armament, this helicopter was very small, similar to the OH-58, with a speed of around 270 kilometers per hour.
It had optical stealth capabilities and a total range of 500 kilometers.
It was equipped with high-frequency spectral radar, infrared thermal imaging probes, and integrated a data link to guide rear attacks.
In terms of weaponry, Bell also adopted a "take-it-as-it-comes" approach, purchasing a 20mm electromagnetic cannon from the Giant God for self-defense.
"This order will create about six thousand jobs in Boston over ten years, solving the problems of six thousand low-income families, so..." His meaning was clear: do you want these positions or not?
As soon as his voice fell, the remaining family heads immediately looked at him with changed eyes.
Six thousand jobs, distributed among the downstream enterprises of helicopter manufacturing, would bring considerable economic benefits and social impact.
"We are responsible for electronic products, we should get more!"
"Nonsense, we are responsible for material supply, we should get more!"
A group of usually refined and well-dressed gentlemen started bickering again.
Leather shoes and teacups flew, saliva and benches danced.
Amidst the "boy next door" manly arguments, each family settled on their share, and only then did they call a truce.
The old men straightened their suits, tied their ties, and patted their thinning hair, preparing for a good get-together after the meeting—golf during the day and "big sword" at night.
The younger generation, on the other hand, suggested having a drink and a house party at night.
Even Fisher was intrigued and prepared to join Rose and her girlfriends for some fun, but before he could leave, his father pulled him back.
"First, business.
Let's go!"
Led by an attendant, they left the conference hall, walked through a corridor, and entered another dimly lit small room.
"I hope I'm not late!" His father pushed open the door and said to the several people inside who were puffing on cigars.
"No, quickly close the door!" A middle-aged man sitting directly opposite the door waved and then pointed to the seat beside him.
These were probably the true power brokers of the Boston consortium!
Fisher quickly scanned the room, confirming that these individuals, roughly the same age as his father, were important figures from various families.
"Alright, Ethan, you specifically called us over.
What do you want to say?"
"Chris, I heard you've been having a tough time with the McCallan Group in Africa and Europe lately, is that right?"
"More than that!" The man called Chris rubbed his forehead.
Fisher remembered this guy was Rose's maternal uncle.
"There's also the rubber in Southeast Asia.
Those French bastards directly bribed local army commanders with cash and women to secure the rubber there, and then they raised the prices on me!
What infuriates me most is that they staged car accidents to threaten my people, and the police kept making excuses!"
"James McCallan, he's just like a traditional Frenchman, self-important and arrogant!"
"No choice, after all, the French helped us achieve independence!"
"No, it was Louis XVI who helped us, and they already beheaded him.
The current French have nothing to do with us anymore!" Fisher said, shaking his head.
"Hahaha, that's true.
So, has James McCallan also provoked our Giant God?"
"Pretty much.
In a recent exoskeleton armor trade, the McCallan Group used our products as targets!" Fisher admitted openly.
"The McCallan Group, with a market value of around five hundred billion.
They even have unclear ties with the French government.
If we make a move, will it cause diplomatic controversy?"
"What if their relationship with the French government runs into problems?" Fisher pulled out his invitation.
"James McCallan wants to invite me to an event he's hosting, to discuss a new international arms order!"
"Stark isn't even dead yet, and the McCallan Group is so eager to rush for the number one spot?" Fisher's father, Ethan Adams, showed disdain.
"I'll go scout things out first, and see what I can use.
I refuse to believe James McCallan's hands are clean!" Fisher remembered that in the movie, McCallan was crying wolf, but it seemed there wasn't a special forces unit called "GI Joe" in the US yet.
Maybe he could suggest it to the Pentagon someday?
After a brief exchange, the group reached a preliminary agreement.
Of course, this agreement was not binding.
If the McCallan Group was watertight, they would stay put, but once any problem arose with the McCallan Group, these guys would swarm like sharks smelling blood.
As for how to deal with McCallan, that was a question Fisher needed to study carefully.
Ha, the status has changed, so, can I ask for votes and rewards now?
Also, my editor really didn't tell me that longer names are worse.
Maybe only big names get that reminder.
A nobody like me just needs to keep updating.