"Even if we have to sell everything we own, buy me a fully equipped robot!"
The old chief's words left Zhang Xian feeling awkward, and he hurried to explain, "We weren't sure how effective the robots would be in actual combat, so we didn't dare buy too many at once. Now that we have accurate data, we won't be buying just one. The national economy is growing, so we can afford this much."
"Oh, so we're that rich now? Last year, when I asked for one more armored division, why did you fob me off by saying we had no money?" the old chief asked with a cold laugh.
Zhang Xian broke into a cold sweat. So that was what this was about. The old man wasn't unaware of how much money they had. He was clearly using this as a way to pressure Zhang Xian, the one holding the purse strings.
"How many soldiers are in one division? How much does one soldier make in a year? We're spending tens of billions on robots now that we're so rich. Surely we can spare this much?" the old chief continued.
Zhang Xian was about to cry. Was an armored division really just a matter of money and manpower? What the old man wanted wasn't money—it was power. But there was nothing he could do. The old man was deliberately playing dumb, and Zhang Xian didn't dare argue. He could only remind himself once again that none of the old men who'd risen to such lofty positions were pushovers. If you thought one of them was a fool, you were the biggest fool of all.
But Zhang Xian couldn't argue with that, and he had no way to respond, so he quickly changed the subject. "Chief, I'll place the order right