Chapter 53: Explosive Sales · Sick Cat Wei Sweeps Through Sha Kun's Empire

Before six o'clock in the morning, newsagents were already crowded around the four storefronts, banging on the metal doors with loud, rhythmic clangs.

"Knock your old mother's head off, there's no stock in the shop yet!" the underling left behind to guard the store overnight shouted furiously as he pulled up the rolling shutter and cursed loudly. "The goods have to be hauled over from the New Territories this morning, spread out a bit!"

Amidst the commotion and bickering, after waiting for more than ten minutes, the delivery truck finally arrived. Before the goods could even be unloaded, the newsagents swarmed it completely, with several fellows even trying to climb onto the truck to snatch the goods.

"Stinky scum, back off, reach out again and I'll chop your hands off!" the underling on the truck had to draw a machete to scare them away.

"Queue up, queue up!"

"Damn your mother, what are you shoving for? You weren't even this enthusiastic burning paper money for your grandfathers!"

"Burning paper money for grandfather is sending cash away, this is making money, of course we're enthusiastic!" a newsagent said with a laugh.

"Pfft!" Sweating all over from the squeeze, the underling cursed irritably, "There are plenty of goods today, whoever dares to make trouble won't get a single piece!"

"That loser is pushing, don't sell to him."

"Hahahaha..."

Old Lai had mobilized six production lines to work around the clock, with people resting while machines kept running 24 hours a day, rushing out 100,000 pieces in a single day and night.

However, there were simply too many newsagents demanding goods at the scene.

With such a huge commotion raised by the Publishers' Union, newsagents all across Hong Kong knew that selling sexy lingerie from 'Red Bean Apparel' was profitable, and they had all rushed over early in the morning.

Those from afar came from Tuen Mun, Tai Po, and Yuen Long; closer ones from Tseung Kwan O, Sha Tin, and Kwun Tong; even newsagents from Hong Kong Island itself had crossed the harbor to grab goods.

There were too many people, forcing Four-Eyes to limit each newsagent to a maximum purchase of 100 pieces.

What he didn't expect, however, was that just as the stock inside the truck was hitting rock bottom, there were still more than a dozen newsagents left, leaving the underling in charge of sales sweating profusely.

The newsagents quickly realized something was wrong. With only two or three hundred pieces left, the people in the back rushed forward while the newsagents in the front firmly refused to yield, and a fight broke out on the spot.

It took the underlings a long time of strenuous effort to pull the people apart, and then the newsagents started causing trouble for the underlings again.

They had the distinct aura of not leaving without getting their goods!

Having traveled such a long distance and waited for over an hour only to get nothing, they would be beaten by their wives when they got back!

With no other choice, they contacted Four-Eyes, and the delivery truck took the remaining newsagents to the New Territories factory, where they picked up their goods on the spot before finally leaving with a barrage of curses.

Speaking of this, Four-Eyes was beaming with excitement, "There's not enough to sell, nowhere near enough!"

Seeing the money rolling in, Wang Yaotang's face also blossomed into a wide smile. However, when he heard that Four-Eyes had instructed Old Lai to enlist five more factories to start production simultaneously, his brows slowly furrowed.

"What's wrong? Is there a problem?" Four-Eyes' heart skipped a beat.

"Have we tallied how many pieces we've sold in total this month?"

"Most of the sales happened in the last few days." Four-Eyes pulled out his notebook and flipped through it as he said, "Well, it's roughly 450,000 pieces now."

Hearing this, Wang Yaotang pulled out a sheet of paper and began calculating and sketching. The population of Hong Kong was over 5 million. Since most had fled across the sea, there were fewer elderly people and more young and middle-aged adults... and after subtracting those who couldn't afford it.

The first bottleneck should be around 1 million pieces, after which the market would decline.

Of course, Wang Yaotang didn't understand economics; these were just simple guesses, and specific sales volumes would have to be figured out slowly later, or by finding professional talent.

"Tell Old Lai that three days from now, we won't need to source goods from other places anymore. Spend the next couple of days sending people to check the reputation of these contracted factories, and pick a good one for long-term supply," Wang Yaotang said, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh." Four-Eyes didn't understand why his boss made this decision, but he would execute it first. "Why don't I just contact them myself? Why let Old Lai make the money? At one dollar a piece, that stinky punk has made several hundred thousand."

"Then notify him that starting tomorrow, we'll only pay fifty cents and ask if he'll do it. In business, you can't break your word, but we'll make even more," Wang Yaotang said with a smile. "Don't forget we're still holding hundreds of thousands of dollars of Old Lai's payment for goods."

"Should we open a factory ourselves?" Four-Eyes asked, looking eager to try.

"What kind of nonsense are you talking about? Do you think a New Territories factory is that easy to open?" Wang Yaotang shook his head with a chuckle. "Without the nod from the five major clans of the New Territories—Deng, Hau, Liu, Man, and Pang—what will you use to start operations? Not to mention management—who's going to go? Ah-Jie or Ah-Jick?"

"Let Old Lai act as the OEM factory to save on management costs. Deduct his pay if the quality isn't satisfactory, and once the supply chain and sales channels are stable, we'll squeeze his profit margins hard." Just like Apple's suppliers, Wang Yaotang thought to himself.

Seeing that Four-Eyes was still a bit confused, Wang Yaotang smiled and changed the subject. "How much cash do we have?"

"1.98 million!" Four-Eyes' eyes shone brightly.

"Go buy four more H20s. It'll be convenient for hacking people—uh, and for delivering goods, too." Wang Yaotang firmly kept in mind that he was a legitimate businessman.

"We need to open new shops in the Western District, Central, and Causeway Bay areas on the Island side. Scout out locations as soon as possible."

"Also, we need to recruit an accountant. The triad's money, gray income from brothels and parking fees, and the company's accounts need to be kept separate. You can't handle it all by yourself. By the way, the accountant must come from a decent family background." Wang Yaotang rubbed his temples. "We're short-handed. You can let these hoodlums hack people without any problem, but asking them to do normal clerical work..."

Wang Yaotang shook his head with lingering fear. "We'll have to run some training sessions later. The blunder Shark Kun pulled off was just too horrifying."

"Alright, I got it." Four-Eyes jotted down all the instructions in his notebook.

"Book the Hong Fu Ji Restaurant for tonight, make the arrangements."

That evening, Wang Yaotang booked three tables across the upper and lower floors of the restaurant.

He had made it big, but he hadn't forgotten his manners either. He personally made phone calls to invite everyone he had even briefly crossed paths with in the Nathan Road, Observatory Road, Paul Street, and Hart Avenue areas.

To carve out a brand-new Tsim Sha Tsui branch, interpersonal goodwill had to be established beforehand.

When an up-and-coming Jianghu Double-Flower Red Pole issues a personal invitation, you have to show up. Everyone who wasn't currently locked up in a cell came that night.

Throughout the evening, glasses clinked, people showered him with praise, and he collected a thick stack of red envelopes. Wang Yaotang fully experienced what it meant to be successful: once you make it, everyone around you becomes a good person.

Of course, he didn't forget to order over twenty portions of braised shark fin with rice to be sent to the police station's detention room.

Eating the braised shark fin with rice, Mo Shijiu wore a very ugly expression. Dammit, the fact that the food was brought in by Wang Yaotang and not someone from the Tung Luen Shing triad made him lose a lot of face!

Especially that old fogey Bone-Chopping Tung—even while eating, he couldn't shut his trap. Screw his old mother!

Why didn't you choking bastards choke to death!

...

While Wang Yaotang was busy wining and dining guests, on the other side, Ah-Wei led Big-Mouth Fai, Fat Boy Nan, Starving Ghost Fung, and Big-Root Shek—a group of underlings who had made a name for themselves recently—and over 50 fierce-looking men hit the streets to sweep through Shark Kun's turfs.

Mo Shijiu truly lived up to his reputation as an old fox, something Wang Yaotang only figured out after he was released.

Originally, Shark Kun's death meant that Tung Luen Shing's banner in Tsim Sha Tsui had been uprooted, and Tung Luen Shing should have withdrawn from this neighborhood. But by presenting a single red flower at that moment, Wang Yaotang was considered half a member of Tung Luen Shing, meaning the banner remained standing.

Bone-Chopping Tung naturally saw through it, but the temptation of that single red flower offered by Tung Luen Shing was indeed huge.

Furthermore, with both faction leaders arrested and the police outside launching anti-gang operations, there was simply no way to mass forces and fight for territory, so they just went with the flow.

The Jianghu wasn't just about fighting and killing; it was also about human relations and favors. Wo Shing Yee wasn't a massive triad after all. To forcefully uproot the banner—did they really think Tung Luen Shing would just watch a massive chunk of meat get ripped away without sending troops to fight back?

You bite off only as much as you can chew. Now, by appointing a Double-Flower Red Pole, Tung Luen Shing lost face but gained substance, while Wo Shing Yee gained face and recruited half an ally. Neither side lost out.

"But goddammit, I'm the one losing out!" Wang Yaotang cursed after figuring it out. His subordinate brothers got injured, he spent his own money and deployed his own men, and the result was just...

Well, the prestige brought by being a Double-Flower Red Pole was indeed sweet.

But I want more!

Since I can't touch Tung Luen Shing's other turfs, I can certainly touch Shark Kun's personal ones.

The Crown祥 Billiard Hall, two brothels, two discos, a bar, and an underground gambling den.

Shark Kun's lackies had suffered heavy losses in the previous two battles; they were either injured or arrested. Core underlings like Blind Wah and Fat Ying were either dead or locked up, leaving the twenty-odd remaining foot soldiers in a state of panic. Ah-Wei waved his white-bandage-wrapped hand forcefully and shouted, "Charge! Hack these bastards to death!"

"Bastards, how dare you try to chop your godfather!"

"If I don't fly into a rage, you lot really think I'm a sick cat!"

A careless remark actually stuck in the minds of Big-Mouth Fai, Fat Boy Nan, and the others. From then on, a new underworld moniker was born: Sick-Cat Wei!