It wasn't as though everyone would throw open their doors and welcome you whenever you came bearing money to invest.
For example, Google. It had not gone public yet and would have to wait until the second half of the year. If someone came knocking now with money, hoping to privately buy Google shares, they would only be treated as an idiot.
The old farmers before him were much the same. Although Henry had made it clear from the start that he intended to invest in, cooperate with, or buy a farm, they merely earnestly explained the difficulties of running a farm, clearly trying to discourage him. They showed no sign of welcoming a benefactor with a smile.
That was actually quite honest of them. They got straight to the point: this business was hard to survive in, they did not want his money, and then it was goodbye, no need to see him out.
In a place like Silicon Valley, the people he met might have smiled as they welcomed him in, taken his money, then smoothly unleashed a chain of moves to sweep him out the door. If he wanted his money back, he would have to spend ages fighting a lawsuit.
Hollywood, where Henry had once worked, was even worse. Investors were welcome, but once they asked about profits, the answer was that everything had been lost. Where had it been lost? Open the books, and there were black holes everywhere. Insiders all knew that they were not even pretending anymore—they were simply robbing people in broad daylight!
"However—" One of the old farmers quietly revealed a turning point, immediately drawing everyone's attention. Realizing that he had become the center of attention, he could only force himself to continue. "Maybe he could try looking for Little Chuck."