Chapter 144: The Serene Island

Whether William White had any principles or not, he truly didn't care as long as there was money to be made. What earthly use was moral integrity anyway?
With expenses required everywhere nowadays, sticking to principles would spell certain doom. Imagining the potential of selling islands just while on vacation—that was the height of nouveau riche behavior.
They say Americans are chaotic, and that certainly proved to be true. The inevitable result of too much drinking was everyone returning to their respective homes to find their respective mothers.
Well, the mothers of their children, at least.
Come to think of it, it was quite comical. If he ended up marrying a college classmate in the future, she might well turn out to be a heavily used, second-hand car.
Alright, perhaps making such a sweeping generalization was a bit absolute; at least Texas wasn't like that.
Regardless of America's modest population, regional character differences were glaringly obvious. At any rate, areas heavily favored by the elephant party were dominated by conservative forces, and one should never try any reckless stunts in those places, or face immense risks.
As the organizer of the gathering, William White's only responsibility was to ensure nobody died; anything else was beyond his control.
Good grief, and this was only the first day. Who knew if those bastards would even have the strength to walk a week from now?
Feeling rather tired today and having no intention of dragging things out too late, William White used the excuse of a rising alcohol buzz to take his leave, planning to take a stroll along the beach by himself.
Truth be told, the beach here was remarkably fine, and walking on it barefoot felt immensely comfortable. Although those mesmerizing tropical colors were absent, it still felt quite pleasant.
This was likely more of a psychological suggestion; to claim it was genuinely breathtaking would be pure nonsense.
Men were probably all alike, but the girls were entirely different. Upon arriving here, they seemed to completely lose themselves. It must be said that God making females emotional served a purpose—at least it made picking up women far less difficult.
"Max, you really don't need to accompany me. This place seems exceptionally safe."
"Boss, these waters can still be quite troublesome. Because of its proximity to the United States, smuggling rings operate around here."
"I see. In that case, Max, look into whether we can buy a slightly larger island later on to build a training center. I'm also planning to construct a theme park."
"Understood, Boss. I'll have people make inquiries tomorrow."
"Will the Boss be able to purchase some heavy equipment this time?"
"Well, check the local legal regulations. If permitted, naturally there's no problem."
"Haha, regulations are quite lax here. You can pretty much do whatever you want on your own island."
"Good, excellent. Get that sorted out as soon as possible."
William White knew that after the year 2000, numerous restrictions would be introduced, completely eliminating the freedom to do as one pleased. Right now, however, the Bahamas were still quite impoverished, and they simply wanted to make money.
The most endearing part was that islands were practically worthless in this era; they would never be this cheap again.
At present, a few million dollars could buy a pretty decent small island, something impossible in later eras where even islands without fresh water fetched over a million, coupled with countless restrictions.
Returning to his room, his young assistant tended to him as he took a bath. Once accustomed to a life of being waited on, one probably could never return to the days of doing everything oneself.
Well, the scoundrel was being sentimental again.
"Suzuki, you go ahead and sleep. I have some writing to do."
"Very well, please let me know if you need anything."
Kimonos were actually quite attractive, at least inside the bedroom. William White considered this attire to be nightwear—look, even the pillow had been prepared by her, placed at precisely the right spot.
The pettiness of the people of the eastern island nation was truly carved into the deepest depths of their souls; wasn't such a design meant precisely for convenience during certain activities? Yet they actually claimed it was some sort of decorative bow.
Hilarious!
Leaving aside the sneaky islanders, William White resumed his grand enterprise of plagiarism.
Ahem, literary creation, that is.
Who said this buddy only wrote short stories?
It was time to let these country bumpkins witness an ultra-long epic.
Indeed, what he intended to write was *A Song of Ice and Fire*. Once this book was completed, everyone in the literary community would have to look up to him with reverence. The scale of this work was so colossal that the only comparable masterpiece was *The Lord of the Rings*.
Spreading out the manuscript paper, William White began to write. Watching from a distance, the young assistant gradually became captivated.
A man focused on his work was charming, and a handsome man focused on his work possessed a fatal allure. Before she knew it, her cheeks flushed with redness, and the young assistant hurried into the bathroom.
William White naturally noticed, a chuckle escaping him inwardly. His charm must have broken through the upper limits of the atmosphere; just watching him for a short while could get her so worked up. Well, he would definitely reward her later; good children always deserved gifts.
William White always woke up early, especially in unfamiliar surroundings. Before the sun rose, it was best to get some exercise.
The beach under the morning glow was exceptionally radiant. Although quite nice, it was ultimately just a beach; he had no intention of claiming it exclusively for himself. After all, this was a gift from nature, and he couldn't be entirely shameless.
Though he thought this way, reality wasn't necessarily so absolute. When had anyone ever seen Bill Gates monopolize an island? Didn't he have the money?
Given that he could afford to transport an entire aquarium into his home, that fellow must have loved the ocean deeply, but as a public figure, occupying an island to establish a personal kingdom was inappropriate.
William White was somewhat different; he had commercial considerations for these islands, and outsiders had no room to point fingers.
Just past six o'clock, the temperature began to climb. This season was truly unfortunate; he would have to come back during the winter next time. The hot and humid weather felt utterly depressing, though thankfully the air quality was decent, differing noticeably from Los Angeles.
Having grown up on a farm, William White was accustomed to fresher air, and modern Los Angeles was simply atrocious.
Back at the hotel, he needed to wash up again. Although his workout wasn't intense, he had sweated profusely. No wonder there weren't many fat people in the tropics—the heat practically roasted the fat right out of you; how could anyone stay heavy in such a climate?
Those wild partiers who hadn't gone completely crazy were waking up now, appearing in twos and threes in the hotel lobby. Unbothered, William White sat in the dining area sipping his coffee.
Island vacations were precisely like this—relatively leisurely, with no need to rush from one tourist attraction to another. You could sleep in as late as you wanted or catch the sunrise at your leisure.
"Boss, what's the plan for today?"
"Heading out to sea to see what we can catch. Don't tell me you're planning to stay on the island and bang away all day?"
"Not at all. I went to sleep very early yesterday."
"Tch, the kind of sleep that wears you out even more?"
This guy was staying right next door to William White, and the commotion he made had been substantial; yet here he was, daring to deny it.
"Boss, let's talk about fishing instead."
"What fishing? In this kind of weather, we might as well go free-diving to catch things directly, then toss out a net for some prawns and call it a day."
"Diving? I don't know how!"
"Haven't you seen the security team? They're all experts, don't worry. If all else fails, just go snorkeling; surely that's not a problem?"
"That works, snorkeling is fine, but I'd really like to try diving."
"Well, there's plenty of gear available, rest assured."
After breakfast, a crowd of young men and women began boarding the yacht. A vacation for the nouveau riche was certainly lively; although the yacht was rented, it was lavish enough.
William White naturally wanted to build one of his own, but his requirements were rather demanding, meaning such a yacht wouldn't be cheap. He would just wait until his finances were a bit more abundant.