Chapter 38: Garment Factory Works Overtime, Shark Kun Pops Champagne at Halftime

Old Li didn't even have time to reply. He rushed out in two strides, shouting, "A-Water! A-Water! You lazy bastard, where the hell are you hiding? Get the cargo ready for loading!"

"A-Hai! A-Hai! Come here."

"Tell the workers that today we are working overtime. Non-stop for 24 hours. The factory will provide water and meals. After six o'clock, add 5 cents—no, add 30 cents per piece!"

"Huh? A raise of that much?" A-Hai looked at Old Li in surprise. Had this tightwad lost his mind and started drinking during the daytime?

"Go on! What are you standing there for? Get the materials arranged!"

"Oh, oh, oh!" A-Hai quickly acknowledged the order and hurried off.

"Just 20 cents?" A-Wei looked at Wang Yaotang in astonishment.

"That's already quite a lot. Clothes like ours are simple. A female worker makes 50 cents a piece, earning around 40 dollars a day. How much more did you expect?" Wang Yaotang said. "This is a British colony. They haven't learned much else, but they sure learned how to squeeze workers in a hurry."

"Britain? Squeezing workers?" A-Wei, A-Jie, and A-Ji all stared at Wang Yaotang with expressions of complete disbelief.

That was Britain!

The very synonym for gentlemen, high society, and aristocracy.

One of the most developed countries in the world.

The cradle of art and academia.

The birthplace of modern industry.

A place overflowing with democracy and freedom, where the common people lived in peace and contentment—the ultimate paradise longed for by the people of Hong Kong!

How could there possibly be oppression in Britain?

Impossible, simply impossible!

Long-term British propaganda in Hong Kong had filled the locals with an intense yearning for the British mainland, depicting it as the jewel in the Queen's crown and the embodiment of all things wonderful.

Wang Yaotang's words were nothing short of treasonous and malicious rumors.

"Do you believe me, or do you believe the propaganda in the newspapers?" Wang Yaotang glanced at the three of them.

"Uh... of course I believe Brother Yao, but..." A-Jie scratched his head. It was just too worldview-shattering.

"British female textile workers worked 18 hours a day and were worked to death within three years. Fifty-six percent of children didn't live to see their fifth birthday because they were fed opium due to a lack of time to care for them. By the way, that opium was imported from my Great Qing."

"You think that's the end of it? Wrong. Children could enter factories to clean chimneys by the age of two."

Just as he finished speaking, Old Li returned from outside, and Wang Yaotang cut off the conversation. "How many can be produced by tomorrow morning?"

Old Li frowned and thought for a moment. "A little over 4,000, I suppose. The workers will get tired, so the efficiency won't be that high."

"Not enough." Wang Yaotang frowned. "Here is what we'll do: you're familiar with the other garment factories. Find a few more to work together on this. For the next two days, however many you produce, I'll take them all, cash on delivery."

"Ah, well... the other factories have their own orders too. If they can't finish on time, they have to pay compensation. How could they possibly have the time?" Old Li refused without a second thought.

"Don't give me that nonsense. I'll buy them from you at an extra dollar per piece." Wang Yaotang couldn't be bothered to listen to the fellow's rambling.

"Brother Yao, you're serious?!" Old Li instantly perked up. "A dollar is a bit low though, not much profit in it. Since Brother Yao is getting rich, throw your little brother a bone too."

"Damn your old mother! Didn't you just say you had orders and no time?" A-Jie couldn't stand Old Li's money-grubbing face and cursed loudly.

"Hehe, hehe. Time? You can always squeeze some out. Time for overtime!" Old Li rubbed his hands like a fly, wearing a flattering smile.

"Stinky bastard." A-Jie couldn't even be bothered to look at the scoundrel.

"If you can't do it, I'll take the sample to someone else. One word: can you do it or not?" Wang Yaotang let out a cold snort.

"We'll do it, we'll do it! Brother Yao, wait for my news, I guarantee you'll be satisfied," Old Li laughed obsequiously.

"I'll have someone come pick up the goods tomorrow morning. I'm leaving." Wang Yaotang stood up.

"Take care, Brother Yao."

...

Nathan Road, On Lok Building, Night Lady Garment Company.

Going legitimate, right out in the open—since he was about to become the erotic clothing king of Hong Kong, his office location naturally had to keep pace with the times.

The original billiard hall was no longer worthy of his status, so he had rented an office in the On Lok Building some time ago.

Dozens of flower baskets lined the entrance. Some were sent by other big bosses and elders of the triad, while others were sent by rival triads.

A magnificent spectacle!

A dozen or so lacklings stood in a row, taking turns loudly reporting the morning delivery figures.

"Big Head from Tsuen Wan, 4,000 pieces."

"Brother Little Fai of Hop Tu, 3,000 pieces."

"Earth Dragon of Luen Ying Shing, 2,800 pieces."

"Corner Man of the Tak-tzi faction, 5,000 pieces."

"..."

As the numbers were rattled off, the first batch of twelve triads had snapped up over 50,000 pieces.

Shark Kun laughed loudly as he took the champagne handed to him by Blind Wah and began shaking it vigorously.

"Pop—!"

The liquor sprayed everywhere, and everyone broke into cheers.

The lacklings grabbed the party poppers at their sides and yanked hard. "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"

Colorful paper confetti fluttered all over the room. Accompanied by pumping music, the crowd started partying right there in the office.

"Kun-ge, you're majestic! Every horny bastard in Hong Kong and Macau is going to remember Kun-ge's kindness!"

"Kun-ge, the Horny King! Move out of Hong Kong and Macau, conquer Southeast Asia!"

"Kun-ge throws a fashion show every year! Miss Hong Kong? Go eat shit!"

"Just thinking about those models walking the T-stage wearing our company's clothes—hiss!" A lackling got so excited he started frantically rubbing his crotch.

"Damn your old mothers." Shark Kun laughed and cursed, kicking out at him.

"Blind Wah, Blind Wah! Call over the prettiest girls from the brothel. Today we're throwing a celebration party right here in the company!"

Throwing an orgy at the company—anyone walking in would have thought it was a financial firm... A chorus of howling and spitting followed.

Shark Kun lounged back in his magistrate's chair. Luna, who had given him oral service in the billiard hall last time, was wearing a nurse's outfit and straddling him.

While enjoying himself, Shark Kun scanned the office hall. A dozen lacklings were shouting and hollering as a fierce competition of "higher, faster, stronger" played out.

The office door was pushed open from the outside. A lackling stared dumbfounded at the chaotic scene inside. *Damn your old mothers, you're having an orgy and you didn't call me!*

Seeing the lackling's expression, Shark Kun laughed out loud. "Fat Ying! Come here, come over. In a bit you can play with your boss's old lady! So, how many did you sell?"

"Uh..." Fat Ying grinned, his face full of difficulty.

"Spit it out." Shark Kun narrowed his eyes, his attention still focused on Luna as he grabbed her hand and moved in rhythm.

"Sold... a little over 2,000."

"Oh, two... how many?" Shark Kun blinked. "A little over 2,000."

"How many booths?" Shark Kun still wanted to put up a fight.

"Well... all of our 100-plus booths combined only sold that many," Fat Ying said, lowering his head and speaking in a small voice.

"Impossible!" Shark Kun abruptly sat up. Luna was knocked off balance, stumbled backward, and landed hard on her backside with an "ouch" of pain.

"What the hell are you screaming for? Is it that good, you stinky bitch?!"

Shark Kun's roar caused all the lacklings to pause and look over.

"I'll show you good, I'll show you good!" Shark Kun lashed out with several vicious kicks.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah... It's not good anymore, it's not good anymore, Kun-ge!" Luna scrambled away in a panic.

Shark Kun never imagined that his dream of success would be even shorter than South Korea's martial law.

After venting his anger, he didn't even bother putting his pants back on, just staring fixedly at Fat Ying. "What's going on? Didn't sales look pretty good this morning? Even so, it should have exceeded 5,000!"

"Sales suddenly dropped off after 10 AM, and after 12 noon, almost nothing could be sold."

"How can that be!" Shark Kun's head buzzed. He rushed over to the desk in a few strides, grabbed the phone, and was about to dial out, but after pressing a few numbers, he stopped. He narrowed his eyes in thought and hung the phone back up.

He had originally wanted to ask how the other triads were doing with their inventory sales, but what if they were struggling just as badly?

To maximize his profits, he had set a price three dollars higher than Wang Yaotang's, but Shark Kun had promised a rebate—meaning anything that didn't sell could be returned.

Right now, was the sluggish sales problem his alone, or was it happening to everyone?