Chapter 170 I don't know, let's talk about it later
Elbert leaned back in his chair, frowning thoughtfully. After a moment, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.
"Jacob? It's Elbert."
"Elbert?" Jacob's voice was mixed with surprise and apprehension. "Don't tell me you've had a change of heart about crushing Meta Platforms. I'm still reeling from our last encounter."
"Nothing like that," Elbert chuckled, amused. "I need a favor."
"A favor?" Jacob repeated, his guard immediately going up. "Coming from you, those words tend to be rather… expensive."
"You could say that," Elbert conceded. "I need a loan."
There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line.
"Did I hear that right?" Jacob finally sputtered, his voice incredulous. "The Paul Three, the man who single-handedly reshaped the tech landscape, needs to borrow money? From me?"
"Let's just say I'm making a personal investment," Elbert explained, his voice taking on a steely edge. "One that requires a certain level of… discretion. I don't want external capital involved. I need full control."
Understanding dawned on Jacob. Elbert wasn't just buying a company; he was orchestrating a takeover, a hostile one at that. And he needed a war chest that wouldn't raise any red flags.
"Alright," Jacob said, bracing himself. "How much are we talking about?"
"260 billion dollars. Immediately."
Jacob, who had been casually sipping water, choked and sputtered liquid across his desk.
"260…" he stammered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Elbert, I may be rich, but that kind of cash…"
"You have assets," Elbert stated, his voice calm, almost bored. "Liquidate what you need to. It's a sound investment, Jacob. You have my word."
A thousand colorful curses danced on the tip of Jacob's tongue. However, he swallowed them down, knowing better than to question the man who could make or break empires with a single phone call.
"And the repayment terms?" he managed, his voice strained.
"We'll see," Elbert said airily. "Consider it a favor."
Before Jacob could protest, the line cut off.
He stared at the phone in his hand, his face a mask of disbelief.
He was in the middle of a high-level meeting, surrounded by his top executives, all of whom were staring at him with curiosity and concern.
A giggle broke the tense silence. One of his secretaries, unable to contain her amusement, was desperately trying to stifle her laughter.
"Something amusing, Ms. Davis?" he asked, his voice tight.
"I… I apologize, Mr. Russell," the secretary stammered, her face turning red. "It's just… your friend. He certainly has a… unique way of doing business."
Jacob managed a strained smile. "If you knew who he was, Ms. Davis, you wouldn't find it quite so amusing."
He cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. "Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. However, a matter of utmost urgency has arisen."
He glanced around the table, his gaze lingering on the stunned faces of his executives.
"I need 260 billion dollars," he announced, his voice firm. "In two hours."
The room erupted in chaos.
Two hours later, Jacob, his face pale and his nerves frayed, watched as his CFO initiated the final transfer, wiping sweat from his brow.
Just then, an email notification pinged on his phone. It was from an unfamiliar address, but the subject line made his heart skip a beat: "Ad Recommendation Big Data Algorithm."
He opened the email with trembling fingers.
As he scrolled through the document, his eyes widened in astonishment. It was… revolutionary—an algorithm so sophisticated and incredibly precise in its targeting that it had the potential to reshape the entire online advertising industry.
With this algorithm, Meta Platforms could offer advertisers unparalleled reach and engagement, leading to a surge in revenue that would make the 260 billion dollar-loan seem like nothing.
Afterward, he saw the sender's name: [Paul Three.]
Exhaustion washed over him. He'd just handed over a significant portion of his company's wealth, and in return, he'd received… an algorithm.
Don't get him wrong, it was an incredible; a game-changer, even. But still…
He couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment. Wouldn't it have been nice if, just once, Paul Three owed him a favor?
"Mr. Russell?" his CFO asked, hesitant. "With this… expenditure… our accounts will be…"
"We'll manage," Jacob sighed, rubbing his temples. "We'll just have to tighten our belts for a while."
"But… when can we expect to recoup this… investment?"
Jacob looked at his CFO, smiling wearily.. "Let's just say… we'll see."
Meanwhile, at FutureTech headquarters, Lori and her team were engaged in a grueling all-nighter.
Spreadsheets littered the table, coffee cups overflowed in the trash, and the air crackled with tension.
They had been working tirelessly for hours, trying to find the answer to Elbert's ten questions, which was the key to saving FutureTech from collapsing.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lori straightened up with triumphant eyes.
"Send it," she said, her voice hoarse but firm.
The email, addressed to Paul Three, sped through the digital ether with their hopes and dreams.
One minute passed. Then two. Then five.
Just when their anxiety peaked, a reply came.
Lori held her breath as she clicked it open.
It was one brutal, soul-crushing word.
[Trash.]
A collective groan filled the room.
Lori, her eyes bloodshot, crumpled the paper in her hand.
"Again," she whispered, her voice raw with determination. "We try again."
Hours bled into each other as they worked, fueled by caffeine and sheer willpower.
Each time they thought they'd found the solution, each time they poured their hearts and souls into a proposal, the reply came back the same: [Trash.]
Five proposals. Five rejections.
The sky outside lightened, signaling the approaching dawn. They had less than six hours until the share auction, the event that would determine FutureTech's fate.
Lori, her body trembling with exhaustion, refused to give up. She had to find the answer and prove to Elbert and herself that FutureTech was worth saving.
Finally, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the blinds, she sent their sixth proposal.
Thirty agonizing minutes later, a reply arrived.
Her heart pounding, she opened it.
She stared at the single word on the screen, her blood freezing.
[Trash.]
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