Carrying a Jurassic on me
Chapter 1692 - 802: New Ideas Provided by Anderson_2

Chapter 1692: Chapter 802: New Ideas Provided by Anderson_2

Yan Fei silently hung up the phone, muttering a couple of complaints under his breath before continuing to immerse himself in the ocean of knowledge...

By afternoon, or perhaps evening, the fossil research team finally brought Yan Fei some good news upon concluding their day—Yang Xing tentatively brought up the issue of the fossil’s ownership.

It was uncertain whether the Torres couple had experienced some new psychological changes, but they once again hesitated and suggested postponing the return of the fossil until the first half of next year.

Professors Hans and Carter were powerless in this matter. While they’d previously persuaded the Torres couple to return the fossil, now that the couple had agreed to return it—albeit with a minor timing issue—it had turned into a personal matter rather than a moral obligation. They couldn’t continue pressing at this point.

Yang Xing merely mentioned it without directly finalizing anything with the Torres couple. Such a significant matter needed to be reported to the institute that had commissioned him. Making a private decision would undoubtedly cause problems, and everyone understood that.

That night, after everything had wrapped up, Yan Fei returned to the hotel and resumed his flying.

Ever since the phone call, Anderson had been on edge. It wasn’t that he was forced into a corner; some things simply couldn’t be explained over the phone. All day, his heart had been restless, worried that he might have annoyed Yan Fei with his tone, thereby bringing suffering upon his family.

Waiting was the most agonizing aspect, dragging time out endlessly. Late at night, he sat alone in the living room, incessantly trying to muster up courage, occasionally casting glances at some items on the table.

Handing over these things would leave him with virtually no retreat. If exposed, the consequences would be unspeakable—not leaving a whole corpse would already seem like a good outcome. But Anderson had no better options at the moment. Besides, he wasn’t a stranger to such "out-of-line" actions; this time, the stakes were just higher.

The real issue was Yan Fei’s chilling methods—catching bullets bare-handed or making his family members vanish without a trace—it was outright terrifying.

Anderson’s residence, typically referred to as a wealthy district in America, reflected the stark wealth disparity often seen in capitalist countries. In America, apart from areas where most ordinary people lived, there were distinctions between wealthy districts and slums—a difference akin to heaven and hell.

Slums were a whole other story—the crime rate there was nearly unmeasurable, with incidents so numerous that even law enforcement likely couldn’t be bothered to catalog them all. It was an eclectic mix of people from every walk of life.

In wealthy districts, however, both city police and private security forces employed by residents ensured the crime rate remained as low as possible.

Yet even here, Anderson had experienced Yan Fei’s unannounced visit, shattering any sense of safety he had.

"I’m here. Say whatever you need to say." As Anderson anxiously fretted, the voice he simultaneously anticipated and feared suddenly came from behind him.

He turned around to see the figure behind him, still dressed in that same vacation-on-the-beach attire, striding through his home with the same casual ease one might exhibit while strolling a shaded park path.

"I want to know how my family is doing," Anderson said, suppressing the turmoil in his heart.

"You’re wasting time again." Yan Fei calmly walked over to the sofa and sat down. "I wouldn’t do anything too drastic—they’re merely temporarily deprived of their freedom. Now, you can say what you need to say. Stop wasting my time with irrelevant questions."

"..." Anderson knew deep down that it was pointless to ask, but no one could possibly remain absolutely rational under all circumstances.

Unsurprised by Yan Fei’s response, Anderson stayed silent for a moment, then pointed at the items on the table and said, "I think you’d be very interested in these. I wonder... could these things possibly buy back my..."

Yan Fei didn’t pick up on the distinction between "you" and "your group" that Anderson was trying to imply. Before coming to Anderson’s home, Yan Fei had already swept the area—both inside and around the living room—to ensure there were no traps or trouble.

Anderson’s behavior already gave away the fact that his leverage relied heavily on the items on the table.

Picking up the items from the table, Yan Fei was momentarily baffled, akin to the moment Anderson had opened his computer, typed "Chinese Kung Fu," and hit Enter.

Radio frequency technology? Industrial modularization? Oil-film bearings?

If this were a cartoon, Yan Fei’s eyes would undoubtedly feature spiraling swirls by now. He had studied cattle farming, acquired considerable knowledge in the field, and spent many hours poring over books in the Agricultural University library. He even bought various reference materials from tech markets post-internet revolution to learn foundational concepts. But when it came to industrial manufacturing—it was complete unfamiliar territory.

After flipping through the pages for a long while, Yan Fei remained in a state of semi-comprehension—thinking he grasped something one moment, only to realize he didn’t understand anything the next. Ultimately, he surmised these were seemingly critical pieces of information related to industrial manufacturing technologies.

Anderson clearly wielded a measure of influence, but it wasn’t sufficient to bypass America’s stringent food safety laws and produce the certifications Yan Fei desired within a short timeframe. Therefore, Anderson pivoted to a fallback option, offering technology that wasn’t necessarily cutting-edge but would still be useful for an industrially lagging China.

However, Yan Fei was puzzled—why hand over these things to someone who specializes in raising cows?

Anderson couldn’t fathom Yan Fei’s thoughts. All he saw was Yan Fei seriously studying the materials, prompting him to believe Yan Fei was clearly interested. Anderson’s mood immediately improved, and with growing anticipation, he began explaining, "These documents cost me a fortune to acquire. I’m sure they’d be extremely valuable to your side. With these, concerning..."

Yan Fei had a considerable strength—one he cultivated from the moment he established his cattle farm. He was exceptionally good at absorbing advice from others and calmly listening when faced with unfamiliar topics.

Thus, listening to Anderson’s explanation, Yan Fei finally pieced things together. Apparently, Anderson had mistaken him for someone akin to "Director Pi," believing these materials would be of prime interest to him.

This realization left Yan Fei feeling somewhat ashamed—he was far too superficial!

Since arriving here, he had been acting utterly self-indulgent, but he had overlooked many more critical matters while indulging in trivial pursuits.

Profound remorse enveloped Yan Fei at this moment. Who could have imagined that a young leader of rural prosperity, a successful entrepreneur frequently honored in newspapers and TV broadcasts, would need a sleazy capitalist to remind him of his duty to contribute to his nation?

This moment plunged Yan Fei into deep self-reflection, recognizing his lack of awareness and patriotism!

Yet, after this intense bout of self-reproach, Yan Fei had no intention of letting Anderson off the hook—even if the man had inadvertently presented him with a new idea.

"These things can be acquired here, and taking them back with me would also come at a cost." Yan Fei said coldly. "Do you really think that throwing these scraps at me could fool me?"

People only reveal their full potential when pushed to the edge. Though Yan Fei could acquire anything himself, having Anderson—a local resident—help definitely saved him time and effort.

Hearing Yan Fei’s words, Anderson wasn’t fazed; in fact, he felt subtly pleased, affirming his earlier guess—that this terrifying man had a background and organization behind him.

If that were the case, Anderson could continue negotiating while reassured his family was unlikely to suffer too much—after all, what this devil wanted was merely "something."

"No, no, no. These items are merely a gesture of sincerity," Anderson said calmly. "There’s more to exchange..."