Alberto watched Lance seated confidently across from him. His initial irritation began to ease as he observed the young man’s composure.
Grabbing a cigarette, Alberto tossed one to Lance. “I’ve been troubled by something these past few days. You may not know yet, but our state is about to join the Prohibition Alliance.”
Lance whistled softly. “Prohibition, huh?”
Alberto nodded grimly. “That’s right. Prohibition.”
“I own bars and nightclubs—places that thrive on alcohol sales. If Jingang City enforces prohibition, those businesses are done for!”
He took a deep drag, exhaling slowly. “Since my father’s time, we’ve built our livelihood on loans, liquor, and… let’s say ‘personal services.’ But now, they’re slowly squeezing the life out of us, Lance.”
“Two years ago, they passed the Usury Act. Now, they’re about to ban the most profitable alcoholic beverages. Next, they’ll probably outlaw personal services entirely.”
“I heard someone’s proposing a full ban on all adult services. It’s murder, I tell you!”
Alberto leaned forward, his voice rising with frustration. “I feel like a drowning man gasping for air!”
Lance carefully measured his response, avoiding any remarks that might further agitate Alberto. “So, you’re asking me to figure out how to stop the state government from joining the Prohibition Alliance?”
Alberto blinked, momentarily taken aback, as if he hadn’t fully grasped Lance’s words. “What? Why would you think that?”
Lance exhaled in relief. “For a moment, I thought that was what you were asking since you mentioned needing my help.”
Alberto waved dismissively. “I know exactly what you can and can’t do. If you ever become President of the Federation, maybe you could solve this problem. But now? No chance.”
He leaned back, calmer. “I’m just venting. What I actually need your help with is something else.”
Alberto pulled a contract from his desk and slid it over. “Someone’s refusing to repay their loan. The usual deal—five percent for you.”
Lance glanced at the paperwork. A thousand-dollar loan, overdue for four months, had ballooned to two thousand dollars with interest. It was a bloodsucking rate, squeezing borrowers dry.
This wasn’t a job Lance would handle personally, but it was a good starting point for Elvin and the others. They needed experience; their future depended on facing challenges like this.
He agreed with Mr. Bolton’s philosophy: rewards come to those who’ve endured hardships first.
“I’ll handle it,” Lance replied smoothly, setting the contract aside. “I was planning to discuss my company with you anyway. It’s in the process of being registered, and it should be official soon.”
Alberto raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What kind of business?”
“Maybe we can collaborate,” Lance offered.
“Financial consulting,” Lance continued. “It overlaps with your work. I can refer borrowers to you who need significant funds.”
“So, you’ll earn a referral fee?” Alberto asked, popping a small snack into his mouth. “Being a middleman doesn’t pay much. You’d make more working for me directly.”
Lance shook his head, agreeing only in part. “You’re right that middlemen don’t earn much, but my role doesn’t stop at referrals. I’ll also handle repayment issues. All you’ll need to do is sign the contract, lend the money, and wait for repayment.”
“If someone defaults, I’ll take care of it. I’ll return your principal and interest, so unpaid loans won’t bother you anymore.”
Alberto considered this, frowning slightly. “You’re asking for a cut of my profits.”
Lance held up the contract Alberto had just handed him. “Only on the big deals I bring to you. Think of it as extra income. You’re not losing anything, really.” ℝ𝒶ɴ𝖔βƐŝ
Alberto hesitated, weighing the offer. “How much are you talking about?”
“Fifteen to thirty percent monthly returns, guaranteed. No legal issues, no risks—I’ll handle everything,” Lance assured him.
Alberto leaned back, intrigued. Big loans were a growing headache in the wake of the Usury Act. Financial companies had become wary, knowing the law now favored borrowers in disputes over high-interest loans.
Lance’s proposal addressed a significant pain point.
“And how exactly will you manage that?” Alberto asked.
“That’s a trade secret,” Lance replied with a grin. Then, as if an idea struck him, he added, “Actually, Mr. Coty, Prohibition could be an opportunity for you.”
“An opportunity?” Alberto’s eyes narrowed.
Lance nodded confidently. “Prohibition will limit the open sale of alcohol, but people’s demand for it won’t change. The market will shift from buyer-driven to seller-driven.”
“You won’t be pushing liquor onto customers anymore. They’ll come to you, asking, ‘What do you have?’ You’ll profit more than ever.”
Alberto mulled this over. Lance’s perspective intrigued him. “So you’re saying I should do nothing for now?”
“If you’ve got the funds, start stockpiling legal alcohol,” Lance advised. “When prices skyrocket, you’ll have the inventory to profit massively.”
Alberto’s expression brightened. Lance’s suggestion made sense. He called out, “Fordis! Get in here now—I’ve got work for you!”
—
Minutes later, Lance and Fordis left Alberto’s office together.
“I knew you’d sort out his problem,” Fordis said, grinning.
Lance shook his head. “Not entirely.”
On his way back, Lance stopped to pick up two local newspapers. Sure enough, the headlines reported efforts by the state church and reform organizations to pressure the government into joining the Prohibition Alliance. While the articles didn’t confirm the state’s decision, the tone hinted that people should brace themselves for an impending ban.
This soft rollout strategy would ease public adjustment to the change when it happened.
—
Back at his company, Lance handed Alberto’s loan contract to Elvin before retreating to his office.
Soon, the newly installed phone rang.
“Is this Mr. Lance?”
“Speaking.”
“This is the Commercial Services Bureau. Your company registration is complete. Can you come by to collect your documents?”
“Of course,” Lance replied.
That was fast—impressively so. If anyone doubted the Federation’s efficiency, Lance now had proof otherwise.
Picking up the company documents was straightforward. With a confirmed business number and tax ID, everything else was set.
Lance spotted Patricia at her desk but didn’t disturb her, leaving quietly to return to the company.
—
The afternoon was spent training his team. Their job was simple: hit the streets and find clients.
By late afternoon, one of the team members returned with a potential borrower in tow.
“Boss, this is Mr. … uh, he’d like a loan,” the staffer said, introducing the man.
“How much do you need?” Lance asked, gesturing for the man to sit.
The man, a dockworker, hesitated before replying, “Fifty dollars.”
“Do you have a job?”
“Yes,” the man nodded. “I earn $37 a month.”
Lance thought for a moment. “Here’s the deal: I’ll loan you $50, but you’ll need to give me two post-dated $37 checks, covering two months of wages. You’ll also need to sign this agreement.”
The contract was simple. If the man’s monthly wages fell short of $37 during the repayment period, he’d lease his work card to Lance for four months at no charge.
After reading the contract, the dockworker signed it without hesitation, handing over the checks.
Lance watched him leave, already envisioning the steady growth of his business.