The Volkswagen Group, as the name suggests, produces cars for the masses.
On January 17, 1934, Prime Minister Adolf approved the proposal of its founder Ferdinand Porsche to form a Volkswagen AG with 340,000 shareholders.
A Porsche is, of course, a Porsche.
The two car companies have cross-shareholdings and can be regarded as different family industries.
It was almost evening when the Wayne family arrived at Wolfsburg Airport.
There are so many bloody stories about the Porsche family that even the three members of the family have no idea of understanding them.
It is enough as long as the current chairman of the Volkswagen Group is the grandson of the founder.
Arriving at the club suite on the top floor of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, 56-year-old Ferdinand Piech had already arrived.
He is an engineer by background and seems to be a very rigorous person.
"Mr. Piech."
"Hello, three of the Wayne family."
The existence of the wizarding world is top secret, and only a few high-level officials in the Muggle government know about it.
When the symbol of the Deathly Hallows appeared on the tablecloth in front of Ferdinand, he was already convinced that everything his grandfather said was true.
Wizards exist, magic exists, and sorcerers exist.
"What is your relationship?"
"Master and apprentice, he is my mentor."
Ferdinand looked particularly surprised.
According to his grandfather's description, the leader of the Uzbek Party looked very much like Adolf.
They have similar ideas and almost the same mode of action.
In the end, they all lost their original intentions and turned into paranoid and crazy demons.
Such a person actually accepted an apprentice in his later years?
Still British, a child.
"I think I should change my view of your mentor." Ferdinand's smile was a little self-deprecating.
He seemed to have put aside his worries and began to take the initiative to talk about the intermediary between the two parties, Ludwig Lensky.
"Mixed-blood wizard?"
"One parent or grandparent is a non-magic person."
The elders of the Wiccan Party include not only half-blood wizards, but also Muggle-borns.
Vincent's few simple chats seemed to subvert Ferdinand's previous impression.
Compared with Adolf, a fanatical racist, Grindelwald is just a slightly more radical revolutionary.
It doesn't matter if it's flattery or flattery, as long as the kindness shown is genuine.
Eric and Evelin listened to the unfamiliar names becoming the topic of conversation between them, and the worry in their eyes began to disappear little by little.
Even when facing the head of a huge business group, their son appears to be at ease.
After unveiling a little bit of the mystery of the magical world, it's time to get down to business.
Ferdinand did not agree immediately, but first carefully reviewed the concept drawing that had been revised by the Bugatti team.
He is an engineer by training and knows very well how crazy some parameters are.
There is a solution, of course, but it's not through magic.
"Titanium alloy..." He put down the concept drawing with a troubled expression.
Choosing this kind of metal with high strength, good corrosion resistance, and strong heat resistance can indeed solve the problem of volume and weight.
As the horsepower increases, the heat and exhaust gas generated will also increase.
So not only the engine, but also the exhaust system needs to be made of titanium alloy.
According to the current market price, the final cost of this mass-produced concept car is probably equivalent to that of some high-end small private jets.
Ferdinand shook his head, "From the perspective of a company manager, I don't recommend Bugatti take risks to realize this crazy idea.
but--"
Seeing that the Wayne family remained calm, the corners of his mouth began to rise slightly,
"However, from the perspective of an automotive engineer, I think it would be difficult for me to refuse such an epoch-making mass-produced sports car."
Volkswagen has partnered with Bugatti.
Teams from both parties will develop together and share all technical results.
After dinner in the hotel's club suite, the three Waynes said a friendly farewell to Ferdinand.
"Mr. Piech, next year's Porsche should have a lift spoiler, right?"
"Son, are you really confident in our cooperation?"
"Of course, if it can't be developed next year, maybe our family will have to sell the house to supplement research funds."
Evelin was amused and Eric was angry.
After walking out of the elevator and arriving at the hotel's main entrance, he got into a taxi with a dark face.
Vincent in the back seat was holding back a smile.
It won't be possible to actually sell the house in a year or two, but the pressure will still be there.
It was already 1 a.m. when we returned to Campogalliano, Italy from Wolfsburg, Germany. The Wayne family returned to the hotel and lay down in bed to rest.
It was a peaceful night.
But for some people it's not.
Vincent was woken up.
The owl was so dedicated that he kept knocking on the window for more than ten minutes.
When he got out of bed, Eric had already picked up the newspaper.
"Dad, I suggest you unsubscribe, so as not to save people from having to come all the way from England to Italy every day."
"I gave double." Eric opened the newspaper.
Vincent walked to the sink and squeezed some toothpaste onto his toothbrush.
"Bloody hell!" Eric suddenly exclaimed loudly after rinsing his mouth a few times.
I was so scared that I almost swallowed the foam in my mouth.
"Dad, do you know that toothpaste is harmful to the body?"
Evelin rolled her eyes angrily, "Baby, didn't you have a classmate whose family owns a dental clinic? Didn't she say that swallowing a little toothpaste would be fine?"
Vincent didn't dare to complain and continued to brush his teeth quietly.
Eric smacked his lips while watching, "It looks like I really have to unsubscribe in a few days."
The newspaper headlines were made very attractive.
"In-Depth Reveal: The Real Reason Behind Azkaban Zero's Escape!"
But the content...
This newspaper is hopeless, almost like a certain series of books.
Yes, it's a scam.
Just looking at Fudge's headshot from the front is nothing, but when combined with the eloquent words full of praise, it becomes even more disgusting.
It's not a big deal if you don't know, the Wayne family is well aware of certain things.
Quirrell was nothing more than an accomplice, and Lockhart was the unlucky scapegoat.
If you dare to take the credit for catching the witch scum, you probably won't be held accountable for the matter.
The Ministry of Magic sucks, and Fudge is the worst of the worst.
"Oh - it turns out it was written by Rita." Eric threw the newspaper into the trash can with contempt on his face.
Knowing too much is actually a kind of sadness.
After washing, Vincent picked up the crumpled newspaper,
"Dad, what kind of news makes you so angry?"
"See for yourself!"
A few minutes later, the newspaper was thrown into the trash can again.
He was just inspecting Azkaban, not being captured and locked up there.
A mysterious prison with zero escape record, the most enlightened Minister of Magic in the past half century.
Compared with the boring reports some time ago, this is indeed big news.