Two days passed in the blink of an eye.
Fifteen Magical Base Station production lines have been set up at the Alchemy Factory.
The progress is faster than expected, and Pandora has completed replicating three batches of the most advanced individual combat weapons currently available.
As for the long-awaited big object, Eric has already made arrangements to arrange a visit to the Brize Norton Royal Air Force Base from 2 pm to 5 pm.
It takes a total of 4 hours; how much can be replicated depends on Vincent's skill.
However, before setting off, he had something even more important to do.
The Ministry of Magic's basement floor,
Minister's Office.
Fudge put down the documents in his hand and frowned as he looked at Vincent sitting opposite him.
Broadcasting the Quidditch World Cup is undoubtedly a great thing for the people, but the young man in front of him has too big an appetite, wanting to broadcast it globally right off the bat.
"Mr. Vincent Wayne, are you sure all the equipment was provided by you free of charge?"
Vincent smiled and nodded. "Mr. Minister, you must know why my Alchemy Shop has not expanded overseas yet. My plan to broadcast this time is not simply for charity."
Fudge relaxed his furrowed brow slightly.
He picked up the document again and examined it carefully.
Did Wayne Enterprises really spend millions of Gold Galleons just to increase its international profile and reduce obstacles to the Alchemy Shop's overseas expansion?
And the cooperation within it...
The interface of the shared Magical Base Station can even be transferred to the Ministry of Magic.
Fudge keenly sensed the problem within.
The International Alchemical Association isn't powerful enough to control everything, so is it necessary to be so cautious?
Unless the young people in front of them have new products that make them wary, or even to the point of threatening them.
"Mr. Wayne, I don't believe you would willingly suffer a loss. Let's stop beating around the bush and just say what you have to say."
Vincent was secretly delighted.
That old fox really did fall for the trap.
He opened the Mithril Briefcase he carried with him and took out a 10-inch-long black cube.
"Mr. Minister, this is the equipment we use for broadcasting."
Press the red switch, and it slowly projects a huge magical barrier.
Vincent adjusted the size of the Magical Projection with his fingers. "The Magical Base Station is the terminal that transmits signals, and this is the terminal that receives signals and processes them into images."
Fudge's mind was instantly filled with countless ideas.
If the Ministry of Magic truly gains control of the Magical Base Station, television stations that were previously ordered to shut down due to being out of control could resume operation.
Even the kind of computer gadgets that have appeared in Muggle in recent years, which greatly improve work efficiency, have appeared in the Wizarding World.
That's definitely a political achievement!
It is not only beneficial to people's livelihood, but also to internal affairs.
And for such a fantastic opportunity, all the Ministry of Magic has to do is endorse alchemical products?
What a bargain! It's such a great deal!
Fudge suddenly looked troubled. "Mr. Wayne, the Ministry of Ministry of Magic never intervenes in the market. If the Alchemy Association really wants to hold us accountable, I'm afraid we can only..."
He sighed and shook his head, not continuing.
Vincent, calling the old man a jerk.
Having already taken advantage of the huge benefits from the Magical Base Station, he was still so greedy as to want a share of the pie, to obtain the benefits that didn't belong to him.
Okay, you have a big appetite, huh? I can't support you.
"Mr. Minister, I have never intended to monopolize the market. The Magical Base Station is my way of showing my sincerity."
Vincent feigned a pained expression, "How about this, our Wayne Enterprises can give up most of the market profits."
We will not share specific core technologies, but we will sell alchemical components related to receiving magical signals.
However, in return, the Ministry of Magic must grant Wayne Enterprises the exclusive rights to operate in the mobile communications sector.
Fudge reluctantly agreed on the surface, but inside he was laughing like a pig.
Muggle have only been developing mobile communications for a few years, how can they compare to other mature fields?
Young people are young after all; they give up such a big opportunity just because someone tries to scam them.
Vincent quietly observed the hypocrisy on Fudge's face, inwardly sneering as well.
How could he not know what the old man was planning?
The Ministry of Magic is leading the development of a series of innovative and beneficial alchemy equipment around the Magical Base Station, right?
It would be best to include those Pure-blood men and those old fogies from the Alchemy Association, so he doesn't have to deal with them one by one later.
"It's a pleasure working with you, Vincent."
"It's a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Minister."
Bah, that old man is shameless. He changes his address as soon as there's a benefit to be had.
If Vincent hadn't had the memory of the next 30 years and known the potential of smartphones, would he have so easily given up profits from an industry destined to become a sunset industry?
Fudge didn't know him well enough. If it were Dumbledore, he would at least be more cautious.
Having successfully secured a cooperation agreement with the British Ministry of Magic, Vincent returned home and immediately began to rest and recharge.
He still has a lot to do in the afternoon, so he needs to be in top condition.
Today's lunch was a little different; Evelyn surprisingly chose Chinese food.
Although the taste wasn't great, it was still much better than the Britain food I'd been eating for over a decade.
Vincent picked up a piece of stir-fried pork with chili peppers with his chopsticks. "Mom, what's wrong with you today?"
Evelyn smiled mysteriously, "It's nothing. I've recently become quite interested in Chinese food, so I signed up for a cooking class in Chinatown."
London's London, located in the Soho District of Westminster, is one of the largest Chinatown in the Britain.
Vincent always felt that there was something strange about her eyes.
"Mom, did you go alone?"
Evelyn awkwardly used her chopsticks to pick up a small piece of eggplant and put it in his bowl. "The security there is very good now. I've seen more tourists than Chinese people these past few days."
She seems to be changing the subject; she's probably trying to hide something.
Vincent took a bite of the steamed eggplant.
The garlic flavor is a bit weak, but at least it has some taste.
The thought of his usual vegetable salads makes him feel an inexplicable urge to cry.
"Mom, you must cook more Chinese food in the future, thank you."
Evelyn scooped a spoonful of Kung Pao Chicken for him. "Okay, my cooking class teacher is amazing. The speed at which he cuts vegetables amazed the entire class."
"Really? He's really good." Vincent took a bite of the diced chicken.
Surprisingly, the seasoning wasn't sweet; it was clearly prepared in a Chinese style.
Her cooking teacher must be reliable; at least he didn't teach those Western-style Chinese dishes to fool people.
Vincent ate, he stopped paying attention to what she was trying to hide.
Eric shook his head, having seen everything.
Your mother will always be your mother.
After lunch, it was time for the father and son to head out.
After clearing the table, Evelyn picked up the phone and dialed a very familiar number.
If Vincent were still alive, he would recognize it as Granger family's number at a glance.