Xiaomi Heavy Industry, its first entrepreneurial venture!

Chapter 278 All the other people's goods are garbage! (Second update!)
Syrian President Saddam Hussein, at this very moment overwhelmed by the chaotic situation in northern Syria, suddenly heard Safare's cryptic words, covered his head, and immediately began to curse:
“My dear Mr. Safare, I hope you remember that I made you replace Suleimania as Minister of Defense.”

"It's because we value your abilities that we put you in charge of coordinating the country's military defense."

"I'm not here to listen to your suspense. Just say what you have to say!"

"Also, didn't you go to make contact with Hezbollah? What happened?"

The president's roar quickly brought Safarre back to his senses, and he threw himself back into his work.

He held the phone and said softly, "The conditions for those Hezbollah members are very low."

"They need a place to house their families, and they also need us to provide some weapons."

"I agreed to both conditions."

"When I told them that we could buy some heavy weapons from Russia to equip them."

"Hezbollah leader Omar said that we don't need to buy weapons from Russia."

“We can buy it from the Justice League, which is another henchman of Iran.”

"And their weapons came from the Sadr organization."

"That is, the opposition armed group in Iraq."

"According to Omar, he said that the weapon was a unique type of TNT, which was placed inside a gas cylinder and had a stronger explosive force than regular TNT."

At this point, Saad on the other end of the phone finally realized what was happening and asked in a low voice, "Does Omar mean the attacks against the American people that have occurred in Iraq over the past few months?"

"Especially that attack by Sheila."

"So it was actually the Sadr organization that was behind this, right?"

"Do they really have that kind of guts?"

Saffare, on the other end of the phone, was at a loss for words when asked about THAAD's question.

They are very familiar with the Sadr organization.

After all, Sadr's father, the elder Sadr, was a Shiite Grand Ayatollah with high prestige. Before his death, even across factions, President Sadr's father had to show him some respect.

Unlike other sects of Islam, the Shia cleric system has strict requirements for promotion.

To become a Great Ayatollah, one must be a person of great renown.

It's a pity that Sadr did not surpass his father and become a pillar of the Shia faith.

To outsiders, he only dared to call himself Hojat Islamist. After he claimed to be Hojat Islamist a few times, Iraqi Shiite academic institutions quickly exposed his claim.

He is not even a Hojat Islamist.

The reason Safare was so impressed with this guy was because he was soft.

It's so soft!

His father was assassinated for opposing the former Iraqi president, and his two brothers also died in the same assassination attempt.

later.

He inherited his father's religious legacy and ideas, and began to organize the Sadr Movement.

After the Iraq War, he sought to use America to gain even more benefits.

Then, he encountered America's iron fist.

Then, the Sadr Movement split, and the Justice League fled with its most capable members.

The remaining members, having reduced their armed activities, have been seeking to join the Iraqi parliament.

They want to become a legitimate political party in Iraq.

Iraq at present still needs to rely on America.

Given this premise, would Sadr go after America?

will not!

He doesn't have the guts!
Having figured all this out, Safare began to doubt the veracity of what Omar had said.

This suspicion reminded him that although Hezbollah mainly operated in Iraq, Omar was actually an Iranian.

As is well known, Iranians are more abstract than Slavs.

So, this guy might be lying to himself.

Having reached this conclusion, Safaré's initial goodwill began to dissipate. With a sigh, he said to Sader on the other end of the phone:

"Mr. President, I understand. I will handle the communication with Hezbollah Brigade properly."

After saying that, he hung up the phone with THAAD and then made another call.

He then called his subordinates' logistics and supplies management department.
"You coordinate a batch of supplies, and then coordinate a base near Damascus."

I need it urgently!

"Also, contact the training instructors that Iran has assigned to us."

"Just say that some of their old friends have come over, and I'm hosting a get-together for them."

After handing over his work, Safare put down the phone, got up and walked to the filing cabinet next to him, and took out a document from the cabinet.

The document contains a timeline of the attacks America suffered during this period, as well as details of the losses.

On the other side, after leaving the Syrian Ministry of Defense building, Omar and Radria returned to the camp temporarily allocated to them by the Syrian government as quickly as possible.

The camp was small, barely enough to accommodate the Hezbollah members and their families.

After walking around the camp and checking on everyone's mental state, the two returned together to the central tent.

As soon as he entered, Radria asked impatiently, "Judging from the look on our Minister Safare's face, he doesn't seem willing to accept us."

“Of course!” Omar shook his head slightly, lifted a corner of the tent flap, and turned his gaze outside to look at the old and young people there:
"If we were a separate force, not relying on Iranian armed groups, and we came to join them, they would welcome us with open arms."

"But unfortunately, we are an armed group supported by Iran."

"And I am still an Iranian."

"Given Iran's current level of abstraction, they naturally have to be wary."

Hearing his words, Radria also walked to the curtain and looked outside through the gap.

Outside the tent, in the passageway, several four- or five-year-old children were kicking a tattered ball on the ground.

Seeing this, Radria couldn't help but sigh:

"I don't know if this choice was right or wrong."

“Thumbs up to those companies on the list Iran submitted to America!” Omar turned around, gave Radria a thumbs up, and then turned and walked into the tent.

He took out a flashlight and turned it on.

Then he took out a map from inside and put it on the ground.

This is a map of Syria.

He pointed to the delta in northeastern Syria, surrounded by the Euphrates and Tigris rivers:

"Saying all that is useless; what I'm about to say is the important part."

"We need to prove our worth to the Syrian side."

"I'll take responsibility for this."

"Adria, your responsibility is to contact the Justice League and get weapons from them."

"If possible, contact the Sadr organization directly."

"To be honest, after using their products, I feel like everyone else's products are garbage."

“The other people’s stuff is definitely garbage!” Radria couldn’t agree more with Omar’s assessment.

He nodded: "I'll pack my things and go back to Iraq in a bit." "The problem is, if you tell the Syrian side about this, will they leak it out?"

"If the Justice League or the THAAD organization finds out that we leaked the information, then..."

"Could they have tampered with it?"

His words drew Omar's attention away from the map and back to him:
"You must remember one thing: international military trade, especially covert military trade."

"As long as you're not caught red-handed, you can't lock down the other party."

"Even if caught red-handed, without direct evidence, it's impossible to lock down the case."

“So, don’t worry!”

"Then there's no time to lose, I'll be leaving now." With those words, Radria turned and walked away, leaving without a trace.

Omar, who remained in his tent, stared intently at the map.

After a while, he shifted his gaze to the northwest direction of the map.

There's no map of that location, but it's in Europe.

In Europe, the only country that both hates America and possesses the technology to do so is Germany.

Those Germans are really bold!

After offering a compliment, Omar began to formulate a battle plan.

When you come to someone else's place, take their money, and eat their food, you have to put in some effort. The only problem is that you don't have enough firepower.

If only God would send me an arms dealer who could directly connect me with me and let me choose the equipment myself.

…………

Suzhou.

Zanwu Airport.

Ji Shuangshuang stopped the car, took out her phone to check the time, and after confirming that there was enough time, she took out a mirror and began to put on makeup.

A dozen minutes later, after finishing her makeup, she got out of the car and slowly walked towards the arrival gate.

As soon as I got to the spot, I saw a wave of people coming out.

Standing on tiptoe, she searched the crowd for a moment and quickly found the person she was waiting for.

"Here!" Ji Shuangshuang shouted, then began waving frantically at the people in the distance.

Lin Yi was dragging his luggage out when he suddenly heard a familiar voice. He looked up and saw a person in the distance standing on tiptoe, waving frantically.

He smiled, dragged his luggage over, and asked, "Where's Lao Han?"

"Didn't I tell him to come pick me up?"

"Old Han's leg is lame!" Ji Shuangshuang made up a reason on the spot, and then began to look Lin Yi up and down.

After looking the person over from top to bottom and confirming that they were in good spirits and showed no signs of abuse, he breathed a slight sigh of relief.

He reached out his hand:
"Give me the luggage!"

"I'll carry it myself!" Lin Yi continued dragging his luggage forward, asking as he walked:
"Why is Old Han limping? Was he in a car accident?"

"No, I was cursing the cripple!"

"..."

Once inside the car, it started and drove towards Xiaomi Heavy Industry.

Once on the highway, Ji Shuangshuang cautiously asked, "Did things get resolved this time in Yanjing?"

"Solved!" Lin Yi patted the small briefcase beside him. "From today onwards, we're practically a military-industrial complex!"

"From now on, we can produce some things openly and legally."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ji Shuangshuang noticed that Lin Yi was still holding onto the small suitcase.

After hearing this explanation, she finally felt relieved: "That's good, that's good!"

"By the way, in the two days you were away, Wang Bo and Liao Xiangjun went to Jinling University of Aeronautics and Astronautics and overwhelmed a research team with funding."

"Then they heard you were coming back today, so they came over too."

"I just arrived before I came to pick you up!"

Lin Yi tilted his head: "Bombard them with money? How much did they throw away?"

"Don't worry, I only gave you 500 million, which is exactly the maximum amount of authority you gave me." After answering Lin Yi's question, Ji Shuangshuang floored the accelerator, and the Mercedes began to speed away.

An hour later, in the office of the communications company's technical department, Lin Yi met with the head of the research team from Jinling University of Aeronautics and Astronautics.

Upon meeting, the other party introduced himself with a smile: "Hello, Mr. Lin, I am Lu Jingchen, the head of the Aircraft Design Laboratory at Jinling University of Aeronautics and Astronautics."

"I heard that President Lin wants to build a satellite. I think we can help out in a small way."

While Lu Jingchen was speaking, Lin Yi kept carefully observing him.

He looked to be in his fifties, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and had a somewhat old-fashioned air about him.

Although his smile was gentle, there was a hint of arrogance in his eyes.

Lin Yi was all too familiar with this kind of arrogance.

Old-school intellectuals, after acquiring academic skills, often display this expression when they encounter nouveau riche trying to enter their familiar fields.

But I am not a nouveau riche, and the person opposite me is not an old-fashioned intellectual.

Otherwise, we'd better start now.

Lin Yi nodded slightly: "Professor Lu is right, we do indeed want to build satellites."

"However, the purpose of inviting Professor Lu here is not for design purposes."

"We have our own designs, and similarly, satellite manufacturing is done by specialized people."

"We invited Professor Lu here to serve as a technical supervisor, to oversee the manufacturers and prevent them from adding their own ideas to our products."

In just a few words, Lu Jingchen's arrogance was shattered. He stood there, mouth agape, but no words came out.

What does it mean to have your own satellite design?

What does it mean to have people specifically tasked with manufacturing satellites?
When did satellite design and manufacturing become so common in China?

I only stayed in the lab for a few days, and then this happened outside?

What kind of international joke are you kidding?
He wanted to take out his phone and call the person who had contacted him to come over.

But when he thought about how the person in front of him was the other party's boss, he didn't rush to make the call.

After all, people are alive, and a living person can't be killed by holding in their pee.

If there's anything you need to discuss, just ask in person.

He took a deep breath, organized his thoughts, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, he saw the person opposite him open the briefcase in their hand.

Immediately afterwards, a document in a transparent file bag was placed in front of him.

[Approval for Xiaomi Heavy Industry Group's application for private rocket and satellite R&D, production, manufacturing, and launch qualifications!]

[Application approved!]

After carefully reading the text above, the long string of seals below, and the signatures pressed under the seals, Lu Jingchen swallowed hard, much to his chagrin.

The next second, he changed his expression and said to Lin Yi with great excitement:
"President Lin, I, Lu Jingchen, was born to supervise!"

"I'm betting my reputation of decades on this. I guarantee that under my supervision, no one can pull any tricks!"

(End of this chapter)