I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World

Chapter 423: Chapter 285: Seeking Benevolence and

Obtaining Benevolence_2

Translator: 549690339

This part of the content did not require his personal signature, as Julia Lambert, who had received his authorization letter, could do it on his behalf.

Harrison Clark stayed at the Hilton for three days and managed to create over forty new songs and finish a movie script.

His life in those three days was simple, dull, and boring, but his influence and changes on the world never stopped advancing.

As the SCN, New England Medicine, and The Lancet successively completed the official authoritative translation, the content of the Madman’s Conjecture Collection 2.0 gradually unfolded before the public.

Of course, the world’s awe and admiration didn’t bring him any immediate benefits, and Harrison Clark didn’t bother to keep checking social networks to see how others praised him.

That was not important.

Compared to worrying about these things, he was more concerned about the progress of the Summit Research Institute’s construction.

Although the previous plan had already considered additional margin, he is now preparing for at least ten new key technology research and development projects. As a result, the previous plan became insufficient.

Rainer felt both happiness and pain.

The happiness came from the realization that he could do even more, as just mentioning the names of these projects with Harrison Clark could make his heart surge.

The pain came from having to add new design tasks and having to find more land.

Harrison Clark’s pace was too fast and fierce. The investment hadn’t made a penny of profit, and the project scale suddenly doubled.

Even the wealthy Chris Owen was a bit confused, unsure whether to follow or advise against it.

Harrison Clark casually threw out a sentence, “If Mr. Owen thinks the investment scale is too large, I can temporarily bear more of the additional investment on my end. I will borrow more money from the Summit Ventures’ working capital.”

Chris Owen hesitated for a moment and slightly reduced the investment scale.

According to Harrison Clark’s newly added personal investment scale, the final equity structure of the Summit Research Institute became 57% controlled by him, 39% for the Whale Group, and 4% for Rainer. The distance to Harrison Clark’s desired ownership of 67% silently got a little closer.

For these considerable asset changes to become a reality, Harrison Clark had to return to the UK.

He reluctantly packed his bags and left the Hilton Hotel.

As he walked out of the hotel building, he thought to himself, they had been very patient, as no one had come to visit in three days.

Today, Paul Powell was busy with house matters, so it wasn’t convenient for him to be Harrison Clark’s driver.

He walked to the front of the hotel and casually hailed a taxi. “Take me to the airport.”

The sturdy and honest-looking white driver gave an OK gesture, “Alright, sir.”

After fifteen minutes, Harrison Clark squinted his eyes and looked around, left and right.

There were four black commercial vehicles and four large off-road vehicles in front, behind, left, and right of the taxi.

He glanced at the signal bar on his phone, which showed zero signal.

He wasn’t overly surprised, but rather relieved with a sigh.

Finally, they’ve come.

“Aren’t we going to the airport?”

Seated in the back, Harrison Clark asked knowingly.

The driver in front didn’t panic, “Mr. Clark, I’m afraid you won’t make it to the airport.”

“Oh, where are we going then?”

“To Monrovia Canyon Park, Mr. Clark. Someone there wants to meet you.”

Harrison Clark looked at his watch, “In that case, I might miss my flight. You guys have to compensate me for the ticket. 1239 US dollars.”

The driver chuckled, “You’re so funny, like an American.”

Harrison Clark also chuckled, “That’s just an illusion you have.”

Twenty minutes later, he met the person who wanted to see him in a courtyard that looked like a mansion from the outside but was heavily guarded on the inside.

A high-ranking investigator from ABI, who was responsible for dealing with all business and technology intelligence affairs in California. Of course, he was also a low-profile but highly influential senior agent.

Harrison Clark got what he wanted.

The Madman Conjecture Collection 1.0 and the nine breakthrough projects being planned by the Summit Research Institute were enough to arouse considerable interest.

However, before that, some still believed that what he wanted to do was too far-fetched; theory was one thing, practice another.

Perhaps some people would rather see him lead China’s scientific research power into a dead-end, so they let his actions go unchecked, not making contact with him.

But now, when he presents “Madman’s Conjecture Collection 2.0” and proposes even higher goals, everything no longer seems like a fantasy.

Just like Einstein back in the day, if he said he wanted to prove the existence of God, people would probably send him billions of dollars in research sponsorship.

Status can change a lot of things, not only gain people’s admiration, but also arouse their greed.

Harrison Clark casually takes out the last straw that breaks the camel’s back, making some people weigh the pros and cons and tilt the scale in another direction.

The other party’s attitude is very calm, with a smile full of amiability, “Mr. Clark, America needs people like you. The world also needs you. Join us, and let’s work together for the most free, prosperous, innovative, and human rights-respecting country. We will provide you with everything you want – the best financial support, the best research team personnel, the best security measures. You can create more wealth for the world, and also gain more wealth for yourself.”

Harrison Clark takes a sip of the coffee in front of him, seemingly talking to himself, “But I don’t like coffee; I like Wuyi Mountain’s Mother Tree Da Hong Pao, which you can’t buy here.”

“Huh?”

Harrison Clark puts down the cup, “So, can you tell me who will sponsor me? Who will I serve? Who will I make money for? The Walton family? The Koch family? DuPont? Buffett? Rupert Murdoch? Or the famous Rockefeller family? Or all of them?”

He smiles gently, but the questions go straight to the core.

The other person remains silent.

Harrison Clark continues: “You want to keep me here by force while talking about freedom and human rights with me; don’t you find that contradictory? Oh, I almost forgot. Since you’re the head of ABI, you must have already numbed yourself to invulnerability. There’s no need for me to discuss this with you.”

Clearly, Harrison Clark is very different from the wealthy people on the other side who have dealt with him in the past.

The other person: “Since Mr. Clark, you are so repulsed by our ‘freedom’? Why are you so generous to our scholars?”

Harrison Clark puts his hands in his pockets, “If I say it’s for humanity, would you believe me? Just as you claim, I feel the same way.”

“Anyway, we’re going to keep you here, whether you like it or not. You’ll have to stay. We’ll find a way to bring your family over. You’re too important.”

Harrison Clark shrugs, “A couple of corrections to make. Number one, you can’t keep me. Second, I have no family back home.”

Bang!

The next moment, Harrison Clark moves and takes the initiative.

Five minutes later, he tears off the high-frequency electric shock gun wire attached to his body.

Harrison Clark looks back at the door, where seven or eight sturdy men in suits and leather shoes are lying all over the floor.

The mansion is very quiet, peaceful except for the people lying on the ground. He returns to the high-ranking investigator who’s tied up like a zongzi. Harrison Clark holds in his hand a large-caliber weapon with its safety off, “As I said, you can’t keep me.”

The high-ranking investigator’s already pale skin turns even paler, looking bloodless.

He just murmurs, “That’s impossible. Have you had military training?” Harrison Clark counters, “Have you ever seen a soldier as strong as this? Has there been one in history?”

As he speaks, he plays with the live electric shock gun wire in his hand. The popping and crackling electrical current is like firecrackers going off in his palm, but he seems completely unfazed.

The senior investigator falls silent.

Harrison Clark looks back at the door again, “Tell your sniper to put his gun away. Yes, I mean the guy in the ghillie suit squatting with his legs spread on the tree. I’ll give him three seconds, or someone’s going to die today, and it’s not me.”

The investigator is startled.

There’s at least 200 meters between the man lying in ambush outside and here, and he’s the most professional lurker. How could he be discovered?

Harrison Clark starts counting down.

“Three, two…”

He doesn’t finish. He lifts his left hand suddenly and pulls the trigger.

Bang!

“Ahh!”

A scream comes from the investigator’s walkie-talkie.

Harrison Clark slowly puts the gun away, blowing on the smoking barrel,

“Don’t panic. I just thought he was in too much pain lying there, so I broke the branch under him. He won’t die, just some minor injuries.”