Chapter 82: The Two-Billion-Dollar Airport

“Your Majesty… the thing is, our entire country only has eleven thousand people, and almost no one needs to travel abroad. Besides, even though the Auckland Islands have a better environment than Tuvalu, there aren’t any famous tourist attractions there, so we shouldn’t expect many foreign visitors…”

Hearing Burns’ words and seeing the others nod in agreement, Li Daniu felt a surge of frustration, as if they just couldn’t understand the bigger picture.

Yet, he couldn’t entirely blame Burns and the others. Among the people of Tuvalu, except for emigrants, almost no one ever leaves the country—their whole lives are spent on those twenty-some square kilometers of land. Even those who do business in Tuvalu prefer ships, since tickets are much cheaper than airfare—at least, unless you’re talking about luxury cruises.

Strictly speaking, Tuvalu’s airport can only handle the smallest planes in the world, thirty-seaters, which are basically just private jets. When designing the plans for the Auckland Islands, Burns and his team had already raised the airport’s standards a little, making it suitable for planes carrying about fifty passengers. That’s because, as they saw it, even if Tuvalu moved to the Auckland Islands, it wouldn’t be much different than now—except that they wouldn’t have to worry about being submerged by the sea, and maybe they could develop a bit of industry and agriculture to become self-sufficient in necessities, rather than relying on imports for everything.

With that in mind, their logic about the airport seemed reasonable—there was no need to build it too large.

But could Li Daniu’s expectations for the future New Tuvalu possibly be as limited as theirs?

“From now on, do not refer to them as the Auckland Islands. That is our New Tuvalu,” Li Daniu first corrected their terminology, then took a deep breath, struggling to avoid cursing in front of his subordinates.

“This issue relates directly to me, so I can’t blame you entirely,” he said, raising a hand to stop Burns from apologizing. “New Tuvalu must never be like the old Tuvalu—lacking in every way. You must have faith that we can build New Tuvalu into a tourist destination that people from all over the world will long to visit, a nation that leads the world in culture and entertainment, even a world-class research center. Therefore, our airport must be big. Otherwise, how will people come?”

Li Daniu expected that after saying this, Burns and the others would leap to their feet, brimming with enthusiasm, and swear to devote themselves to New Tuvalu’s construction until their dying breath. But instead, when he looked around, they were just sitting there, gaping at him as if he were joking.

He coughed and shot Burns a look that could kill. “You don’t believe what I’m saying?”

“Of course we do,” Burns quickly wiped the awkward look from his face, replying with heartfelt sincerity, “We firmly believe that, under your leadership, we will build New Tuvalu into a prosperous and powerful country.”

The others quickly caught on. Even if they still thought the king was daydreaming, they knew enough to show him the respect he deserved.

“Yes, Your Majesty, with New Tuvalu’s natural beauty, we can certainly make it a top tourist destination. Surpassing the Maldives will be no problem at all.”

“Indeed, and besides tourism, we must develop our cultural industries. Your Majesty’s novel has already sparked a global sensation; we must seize this opportunity to grow New Tuvalu’s cultural industry.”

“And we can attract high-tech companies from around the world by leveraging our tourism and culture, thereby creating an industrial cluster and turning New Tuvalu into a world-class research center.”

…Can I curse? Can I just let loose and scold them all?

Li Daniu was on the verge of hysteria. How had these people become high officials in Tuvalu? After all that talk, nothing they said had any substance—just empty flattery, full of hollow, grandiose words, not even as useful as idle boasting on the internet.

I mention developing tourism, and you just repeat it back to me—why not actually discuss how to do it? Without a plan, how do you conclude we can surpass the Maldives? And as for culture and research, do you really think a few words in this room will make those industries appear?

Li Daniu almost wanted to wipe out everyone in the conference room and recruit some real talent from the worlds of cinema—wouldn’t that save him so much trouble?

Seeing Li Daniu’s face growing darker, Burns and the others gradually stopped their sycophantic speeches.

“Are you finished?” Li Daniu asked coldly, once the room had fallen completely silent.

“Your Majesty,” Burns said, biting his lip. He knew now was not the time to stand out, but his position and his loyalty to Tuvalu wouldn’t let him just flatter without saying anything of value. “Regarding the airport, perhaps we should first build a smaller one, but reserve space for future expansion. When our finances are less tight, we can expand.”

Burns had just been forced into flattery, but building an airport is not a child’s game—it costs money, not clay. A true international airport can easily cost billions of dollars. Tuvalu’s total assets are a drop in the bucket by comparison.

Compared to the cost of building the airport, buying the large planes Li Daniu wanted was much cheaper. The largest Airbus A380, with 555 seats, was only about 300 million dollars. Normal jets with a hundred seats or so cost less than 100 million.

Burns worried that the wealth Li Daniu had easily acquired from a novel and a necklace had made him overconfident and extravagant, leading to ambitions that might become unmanageable.

“I understand your point,” Li Daniu nodded in satisfaction. At least, compared to the others’ empty flattery, Burns’ suggestion was tactful and practical—he managed to give Li Daniu face while also arguing against building an international airport.

“What you’re worried about is simply money. Let me be clear: you don’t need to worry about not having enough funds for New Tuvalu’s construction; you should only worry about not being able to spend it all.”

Seriously, did Li Daniu need Burns to spare his feelings? Wasn’t the real issue just the fear of overreaching? Li Daniu wanted to shout, “No matter how big my plans are, they’re not going to trip me up.”

“The airport’s construction budget will be two billion US dollars. Note—this two billion is just for the airport’s construction. The money for the planes is separate.”

Truth be told, Li Daniu didn’t know anything about airport construction. In his previous life, the only thing he’d ever done with planes was play with toy models—he’d never even flown. He’d just thrown out the two-billion figure because he remembered reading that Guangzhou Baiyun International Airport had cost twenty billion yuan.

Guangzhou Baiyun International handles about 200,000 passengers a day. Li Daniu figured New Tuvalu’s airport could get by with less investment—after all, with so little land, it would never see that much traffic. Even so, this two billion was a staggering sum to Burns and the others. What did it mean? Tuvalu’s annual revenue was just over ten million dollars. Even if the government never spent a cent, it would take two hundred years to gather that much money. Even if “The Lord of the Rings” was being called the most profitable novel in history by some media, there was no guarantee it could bring in such wealth. Where was Li Daniu getting this confidence?

Li Daniu didn’t know exactly what Burns and the others were thinking, but he could guess from their expressions after he announced the investment amount—they thought he was dreaming. Maybe they were already cursing him in their hearts.

Suddenly, Li Daniu realized that in some matters, he didn’t need discussion or advice—he just needed to give orders. After all, no one else in this world but Li Daniu could imagine what Tuvalu was about to become.

He didn’t need to care about Burns and the others’ opinions anymore. Compared to the timid attitude he had when he first crossed over, he had gained confidence through experience in the “movie worlds.” Confidence is always rooted in strength. Never mind the treasures locked away in his safe, representing unimaginable wealth; even his personal power alone would be enough to conquer a defenseless Tuvalu. He had money, he had strength, and he was the rightful king. Why should he tiptoe around his subordinates?

He was here to develop Tuvalu, to make it the most advanced country in the world—bar none. He wasn’t trying to destroy it. So what was with all the distrust and the looks that said they thought him a fool?

Did they not believe he could replace them all?

Of course, he could only say this to himself. If he really fired everyone at once, he’d be left with no one to use.

Given the choice between having no one useful and having no one at all, which would he pick?

Li Daniu’s answer was: take it slow; things will get better.

“Besides the airport, I’m also very dissatisfied with the rest of these renderings,” Li Daniu continued, ignoring the stunned faces of Burns and the others. “Here’s what we’ll do: call in the designers from these firms, and I’ll tell them directly what I want. That way, you won’t bring me such garbage again.”