All Chapters of I Made $900 Trillion In 24 Hours: Chapter 291
- Chapter 300
339 chapters
A corporate coup
Higgins's laughter cut off. His face darkened with anger. He slowly pushed his chair back and stood up to his full, imposing height. He walked around the table, stopping directly in front of Barry, looming over him."You don't give the orders here, pal," Higgins growled, jabbing a finger toward Barry's chest. "You're just an aid. A messenger boy. Know your place."Barry didn't flinch. He looked up at the larger man, the thick lenses of his glasses making his eyes seem wide and unblinking. "No," Barry said firmly, losing all traces of the nervous aide. "You listen. I give the orders here. If you know what's good for you, I advise you to turn around and leave this room before I call security to have you physically removed."The direct challenge was too much for Higgins's pride. The insult of being dismissed by this nobody, in front of his peers, shattered his composure. With a snarl of pure rage, his hand shot out. The crack of the slap echoed through the silent boardroom.Higgins's
Exposed
The woman from finance was the first to react. She staggered back into her chair as if her legs had given way. Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide, whispering over and over, “Sullivan… Sullivan… Oh my God…”The young man from operations, dropped his pen. It clattered noisily against the table. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, stammering, “Th-the Barry Sullivan?… No… this can’t… this can’t be real…”The older executive, pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose with a trembling hand. Beads of sweat pearled at his temple as he muttered, half to himself, half to the room, “I-I can't believe it. The richest man alive… in this room, with us… and we mocked him…”One of the women clutched at the edge of the table, whispering as if she had walked into a tiger, “We’re finished… completely finished…”The diamond-brooched woman clutched at her pearls, muttering, “Lord have mercy… What have we done…”And then there was Higgins. For the first time, his towering form seemed to
Wellington
The week that followed was intense as Barry initiated a ruthless audit of the entire company.He carried out his evaluation in secret, poring over performance reviews, project histories, and departmental budgets long into the night. He saw what decades of comfortable monopoly had created: a workforce where 80% were simply occupying space. There were the less talented workers, content to draw a paycheck, clock in and clock out without offering a single innovative idea. There were also the lazy workers, treating their jobs as a comfortable pause between coffee breaks. They had become part of the corporate furniture, adding weight but no value.Many were in-between, drifting through the job as if waiting for a better offer elsewhere, treating the company as a pit stop in their lives.Barry had no patience for dead weight.Only a small fraction, a dedicated 20%, showed any spark. They were the ones who still believed the company could be more. These were the ones Barry quietly noted,
The gala night
The long rectangular conference table was still littered with sketches, technical drawings, and prototype blueprints. Around it sat a dozen of Barry’s newest recruits—bright-eyed inventors, engineers, and designers, some still in their twenties, buzzing with energy as they presented concepts that could change the face of aviation.Barry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished wood as one of the young engineers wrapped up a pitch about revolutionizing old models of jets.“Good work,” Barry said, his voice filled with excitement. “Refine the numbers, make the models tighter, and bring it back to me in two days. If it checks out, we’ll move to prototyping immediately.”As the discussion wound down, his personal secretary approached. She waited patiently for a break in the conversation before stepping forward.“Mr. Smith,” she said softly, careful to use his alias in front of the team. “I’ve just received word from Mr. Wellington of Zenith Jet Group. He’s accepted your request
Public Rejection
Wellington guided Barry toward a small, powerful-looking group near a grand piano. "Gentlemen, Madam," Wellington announced. "Allow me to introduce the talk of the town, Mr. Smith of Smith Jetz Industries. He's the new owner of the old Rochester operation." The three individuals turned to stare at Barry.Barry instantly recognized who they were. He had done his homework to know the three biggest leagues in the aviation industry. There was Karla Vance, the sharp-eyed CEO of Valkyrie Aeronautics. Next to her was Desmond Pierce, a third-generation industrialist whose family name was synonymous with private jets. The third was Hiroshi Tanaka, a quiet but brilliant Japanese engineer who had revolutionized engine efficiency."Smith Jetz," Karla Vance said, her tone cool as she gave Barry a condensing stare. "Yes, we've heard. The question on everyone's mind, Mr. Smith, is why? Why buy Rochester Jets? The company is a carcass. Finished.""Indeed," Desmond Pierce nodded in agreement, swir
The sting ray jet
Barry left the gala and drove back to his hotel where he's temporally lodging at.As soon as he entered his suite, he let out a long, slow breath. He tossed his jacket over a chair and loosened his tie, padding across the plush carpet in his socks."What a day," he muttered to the empty, luxurious room. He made his way to the minibar, selecting a crystal tumbler and pouring a measure of amber whiskey. The ice clinked as he gave it a slow stir. He had just taken the first, smooth sip when his personal phone, lying on the coffee table buzzed softly. He picked up the phone, the screen displaying an unknown number."Hello?" Barry answered.The voice on the other end was unmistakable. "Is this Mr. Smith?"Barry's posture straightened almost imperceptibly. "Yes. How may I help you?""This is Kenji Tanaka." There was a pause, as if the man were weighing each word. "I'm in."Barry actually set his drink down on the table with a soft thud, a genuine jolt of surprise running through him. He
The convention
For months, the team from Smith Jetz and Tanaka Aerospace worked in secret inside the company's hangars. To keep the Sting Ray hidden, they turned the main production hangar into a sealed environment. They installed blackout curtains on every window that faced the runway or the outside world. Security was tightened significantly. Every single person who entered the hangar, from the most senior engineer to the catering staff, had to pass through multiple clearance checks and was constantly reminded of the severe legal consequences of leaking information.The work followed a careful schedule. The first few months were for building the jet and putting all the systems together. Then came the test flights, mostly at night to avoid being seen. The final month was the most challenging: testing the submersible function. Since they couldn't test it in the ocean without being seen, they had constructed a massive, deep-water testing tank on the far side of the property, disguised as a new w
Disgraced
A low, collective gasp rippled through the glass pavilion as the hangar doors opened and the Stingray jet was towed onto the runway. It was unlike any aircraft they had ever seen. Its form was a seamless, organic sweep, mimicking the graceful, powerful shape of its namesake. The body was painted a deep midnight blue, and across its surface, subtle, glowing spots were scattered like a field of stars, shimmering faintly in the sunlight. The host began to read the specifications from her tablet. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Stingray boasts a cruising speed of Mach 0.94," she announced.The figure drew nods of approval from everyone—it was competitive with the fastest private jets.Then she paused, her eyes widening slightly as she read the next line. She looked up, needing to confirm the words. "It... it is equipped with a fully integrated, certified artificial intelligence pilot system, capable of handling all phases of flight." A wave of murmurs began, but she wasn't finished. She t
Wellington
The weeks following the convention went down in history of aerospace engineering. Smith Jetz Industries became a phenomenon. News outlets, tech magazines, and luxury lifestyle blogs couldn't get enough of the Stingray jet. The company's stock price skyrocketed, shattering records and turning early investors into overnight millionaires. Order books for their conventional jets swelled as well.Due to the high order, Barry had to announce in a press conference that the Stingray itself would be produced in an extremely limited run. Only three would be built per year, each one custom-fitted to the buyer's specifications. This scarcity ignited a frenzy of exclusivity. Kings, tech billionaires, and oligarchs entered into silent, frantic bidding wars for a place on the waiting list, a list that was already years long. The Stingray became the ultimate symbol of status and power. An exclusive membership into the most elite club on Earth. * * * *Wellington watched Smith Jetz Industries
Fired
The boardroom was packed, to the brim with shareholders, their faces flushed with anger and anxiety. At the fixed time, the meeting began. Wellington sat at the head of the table, hands clasped, his face composed. He knew this meeting would be a deciding factor on his job as CEO.The meeting had barely begun when the complaints erupted like cannon fire.“Our stock price is stagnant!” barked a balding man with a thick gold watch. “Do you have any idea what that means for us, Wellington? For our portfolios?”Another shareholder, a woman in a crimson blazer, slapped a folder onto the table. “Smith Jetz Industries has become a phenomenon overnight. Every article, every headline, every market report sings their praises. Meanwhile, Zenith Jet Group is being described as obsolete. Obsolete! That word is poison to investors. What are you planning to do about it?”"Yeah," another cried out. "While Smith Jetz is printing money, we're circling the drain! What is your plan?"Voices rose, layered