HLM -Chapter 1387 A Visit from the Richest Man

After hearing what Elizabeth said, Wang Bo laughed. “New Zealand has a richest man too?”

Elizabeth nodded instinctively. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it? Sunset Town has a richest man as well.”

“Who’s the richest person in Sunset Town?” Wang Bo asked reflexively. “How come I’ve never heard of such a big shot?”

“It’s you.”

Wang Bo thought about it for a moment, then said hesitantly, “You’re not insulting me, are you?”

Elizabeth looked puzzled. “Of course not. What do you mean? Boss, I don’t quite understand.”

Wang Bo said, “Sunset Town only has a bit over ten thousand people, yet you still rank a ‘richest man’? In Chinese, that’s called ‘picking a general from among dwarfs.’ And New Zealand—such a tiny place—and you still need to name a richest man?”

New Zealand is small, and its total economic output is far below that of many other countries. As a result, even the wealth of New Zealand’s richest man isn’t particularly high.

“So how much is this richest man worth?” Wang Bo asked.

Elizabeth replied, “About eleven billion New Zealand dollars.”

Wang Bo rolled his eyes. “Then I’m the richest man in New Zealand. The value of my Sunset Ranch alone is no less than that!”

“But political figures aren’t included in wealth rankings,” Elizabeth said.

“I’m a political figure?”

“Of course. Mayor—when you die someday, your epitaph will definitely say that you were a great politician,” Elizabeth said with a grin.

Wang Bo rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Fine. Go invite Mr. Richest Man in.”

Halim Gode—of course Wang Bo knew the name. New Zealand really was a small country. The richest man didn’t have an astronomical fortune, but that also meant the circles were small and news traveled fast. Information about Gode was practically common knowledge nationwide.

This richest man was one of New Zealand’s most successful businessmen. Unlike many other tycoons on wealth rankings, Gode was extremely low-key. He rarely appeared in public and almost never accepted media interviews.

He was so discreet that many media outlets couldn’t even pin down his exact assets. They could only estimate his wealth by adding up the companies he controlled and his various holdings, placing his net worth somewhere between 10 and 12 billion New Zealand dollars.

On a global scale, that wasn’t much at all—not even enough to crack the top 200. But New Zealand was a small country with relatively little wealth disparity, so this figure was still astonishing.

Beyond that, Wang Bo didn’t know much about Gode. The man really was low-profile. He belonged to the National Party, while Wang Bo was from a different party, so they didn’t have much interaction in normal times.

Soon, Elizabeth led a handsome, refined middle-aged man into the office.

Wang Bo had seen photos before, but Gode was even more handsome in person. He remembered that the man had been born in the 1960s, which meant he should be over fifty by now.

Yet judging by his looks and demeanor, he appeared to be only in his early forties—black hair, dark eyes, with facial features reminiscent of the Hollywood star Tom Cruise, exuding charisma.

“Thank you, miss,” Gode said with a warm smile to Elizabeth after entering the office, his courteous manner naturally endearing him to women.

Elizabeth returned a polite smile and nod, then closed the door.

The two men shook hands.

“Hello, Mayor Wang. I’m Halim Gode. My friends call me Harry. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Gode said.

Wang Bo invited him to sit. “Likewise. I’ve long wanted to meet you, but you rarely appear at social events.”

“I’m more of a homebody,” Gode replied with a smile. “And I really like my house. It’s a very nice one—two hectares of land, a three-story mansion with a tennis court, garages for multiple cars, a swimming pool, a cinema, a banquet hall, and more. I’m quite happy living there.”

“I understand,” Wang Bo said. “I actually enjoy staying at my own place as well.”

Gode shrugged. “Then I regret bragging just now, because no matter what, my house can’t compare to a castle standing atop a mountain.”

Wang Bo laughed. This man truly deserved to be the richest—his humor was effortless, and his compliments were subtle.

Of course, Gode’s success wasn’t mainly due to his social skills. More importantly, he was a formidable investor.

The world had entered the age of capital, and many great businessmen and tycoons were second-generation rich kids. Gode was not.

He came from a humble background. When he was young, he worked as a truck driver and later as a sheet-metal worker.

In the 1980s, he realized this wasn’t the life he wanted. Around the age of thirty, he went back to school for an MBA, and his life underwent a fundamental transformation.

Starting from a small leasing company, he continuously expanded, using leveraged capital to aggressively acquire major enterprises, eventually building what would become the Gode empire.

So, as they chatted, Wang Bo asked with a grin, “You’re not here to acquire Sunset Town, are you?”

Gode laughed. “As you know, most of my wealth comes from investments and acquisitions—but that approach won’t work on Sunset Town.”

“Acquisitions target companies whose assets are undervalued or temporarily underperforming. You buy equity, then through a series of capital operations—packaging, cost-cutting, restructuring, asset injections, cash infusions—you put failing enterprises back on track and profit from it.”

“Sunset Town? No. There’s not the slightest hint of decline here. On the contrary, it’s at its peak. Even if I teamed up with the four major investment banks, I wouldn’t be able to acquire this place.”

Wang Bo grinned. Damn, this guy really knew how to talk.

“Then why did you come to Sunset Town this time—tourism, or to watch the boxing match?” Wang Bo asked.

“Why can’t it be both?” Gode replied. “In fact, I also wanted to visit you—hoping to meet you, Mr. Miracle.”

As Sunset Town’s fame spread across the globe, Wang Bo had earned the nickname “Mr. Miracle.” Many institutions and research centers used games and computer simulations to model Sunset Town’s development path, and found that even computer planning struggled to replicate what had been achieved here.

After exchanging compliments for a while, they finally got down to business and began discussing the upcoming boxing match.

Gode was a die-hard boxing fan. When he was young, he had even worked as a sparring partner.

“Those days were really tough,” he said. “Look at my face—this scar here is from a wound that kept reopening before it healed properly.” He pointed to his cheekbone.

Wang Bo sighed. “What a pity. One of New Zealand’s most handsome faces, and it went through something so brutal.”

Gode burst out laughing. “Fortunately, I make a living with my brain, not my face. Though people like the two of us—don’t you think we could also get by on looks and physique alone?”

“Please turn that question into a statement,” Wang Bo said proudly. “The two of us could definitely make a living off our looks and bodies!”

Little Wang opened his mouth, coughed violently a few times—and suddenly threw up.