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Chapter 396 - Chapter 396: Depressed Bush

[Chapter 481: Depressed Bush]

"Investing in oil? Are you nuts? My family's got plenty of oil fields, and they're bleeding money, especially those offshore ones."

"Ha ha, George, I was wondering why you dropped by today; turns out it was for this." William White replied nonchalantly with a smile.

"That's obvious! Word on the street is that you guys are up to something big, talking about being the next Rockefeller."

"Yeah, those old codgers, fine, I'll tell them to back off." William White shrugged. He hadn't even looked into prices; discussing an acquisition was out of the question, yet they were calling him the second Rockefeller.

"You mean someone's stirring the pot on purpose?"

"Let me put it this way, George. Even if I wanted to acquire anything, I'd wait until things got worse -- ideally right when they're filing for bankruptcy."

Bush Jr. had a forlorn look on his face. His family's farm wasn't making any money, and if oil was losing value too, he might as well pack it in.

With an old man like his father around, he knew that oil prices weren't going anywhere but down. He sensed this low price cycle could go on for a while, and it was strange that William White could see it. He needed to figure out where that guy was getting his intel.

"Waiting for bankruptcy? Well, you really are a piece of work."

"George, you want to know why I don't pay attention to Texas oil wells? Remember, my family's White Oil is in Texas."

"Come on, didn't you sell it off ages ago? Why don't you just buy it back?"

"It's simple. They're still making a profit. If I went to acquire it now, it wouldn't be at a good price. You know oil prices are dropping, and the dollar's losing value. Why would I buy now?"

Bush Jr. had no response. He was certain of one thing: William White wouldn't make any moves immediately. As for the rumors about his potential acquisition, he believed it was just the old Rockefeller sitting uneasily.

"Man, if you just pull back like that, those old-timers will be livid!"

"Ha, they'd be fine; after all, drinking too much isn't good for them, so throwing up might actually help."

"Best be careful. I hear they're preparing to sell Rockefeller Center. Wonder what they're planning?"

"I know, and I don't plan on snatching food from anyone's mouth. Shell and BP are also half dead; I think they'd prefer to partner up with me."

"That makes sense. You called them vampires; they're not about to help someone in need."

"Let's head out, grab a bite, then check out my new B-class car, shall we?"

"Wow, that was quick! The market's buzzing, that's for sure."

...

Indeed, it was buzzing. The car wasn't even on sale yet, and the ads were saturating the media. For this wealthy and reckless dude, the big three automakers were at a loss for words. After pocketing a bunch of government subsidies, no one was making moves like he was.

Tesla's advertisements all use millions as the unit; the big three could only sigh in amazement in face of such extravagance.

In reality, they knew that even if they matched Tesla's advertising level, they wouldn't come close to achieving the same results.

Building a car brand was a long-term endeavor, but with William White, everything changed.

He was treating cars like disposable items, just like his Ice Age bottled water - bombarding the market with ads.

Now it appeared that this crossover king was diving into oil investments. Let's hope this new toy would cut back his focus on the car industry.

However, those thoughts were dashed quickly. William White publicly stated he had no intention of entering the oil sector; he wouldn't get involved in drilling or refining. The rumors floating around were just Wall Street's usual tricks.

The comments from the top billionaire were clear: don't use my name to inflate stock prices; it's downright unethical.

...

"William, if you're this direct, those old guys might blow a gasket."

"Ha ha, if they want me to help them hike up their stock price, they'd better pay up. My reputation ain't worth that little."

What really ticked William off was this. He believed there was no chance oil prices would bounce back. This low-price environment would last for years. If anyone purchased oil stocks right now, it would be a total disaster.

Whether shareholders lost money or not didn't concern him; if someone lost because they followed his advice, then that would be tragic. In a country plagued with gun violence, predicting stock performance was a risky business.

That wasn't just scaremongering; during the 1987 stock market crash, many folks lost their cool. There were more than a few fund managers who didn't make it through.

"Whoa, this car's pretty nice! It feels like a C-class car to me."

"Yeah, we don't have much clout yet, so we had to offer some perks; otherwise, why do you think Tesla sells so well?"

"Except for the windows being a bit large, it really does remind me of an American car."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean? It was designed as an American car, alright?"

"Okay, enough about that. When are you going to build a factory in the States? We can talk about this subject then." Bush Jr. scoffed at the thought of this opportunist.

"America? Yes, in the near future, a factory in America will be needed; just not right now." William White looked up at a 45-degree angle, a melancholic expression on his face.

"Ha! You crack me up! Everyone knows the deal with America; are you really thinking about making peace with those thugs?"

"You mean the Auto Workers Union? I'm not scared of those clowns. If they push me too far, I'll just have them mining in Africa."

William White wasn't joking. Those thugs could threaten factories and intimidate politicians. But if they crossed paths with William White, things wouldn't turn out well for them.

After taking a drive around, William White was pleased enough. The 2.5-liter engine might not provide that push-back feeling, but it was sufficient for city driving.

"This car's nice, better than that Corolla. Hope it's not too pricey." Bush Jr. had to admit, the way this hodgepodge car was assembled, it came off as somewhat upscale, though he wondered about the quality.

"Price? Around 10% more than the Corolla; they're just a thin skin with a lot of stuffing and no sense of safety."

"Come on, their failure rate is pretty low! I mean, it's not just luck that those compact cars fly off the shelves -- reliable quality and low gas consumption make it plain and simple."

"George, our warranty coverage for repairs exceeds theirs by far; this is going to be a hot-selling model, I have no doubt."

"Alright, wishing you luck! If it's possible, make the fuel consumption a bit higher; America really needs to keep filling up."

Bush Jr. was getting tired of the constant talk about fuel efficiency. If everyone's fuel economy stayed the same, his family's oil company would be in big trouble.

*****

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