Late at night, in the office of Williams Food Company, the kerosene lamp still burned brightly.
Allen and Catherine were intensely discussing over a large map of New York and the surrounding area.
The blackboard was covered with various numbers—the factory's maximum production capacity, current order volume, capital reserves, and a glaring term circled three times in red chalk.
Raw material shortage.
"Sir, the situation is even more severe than we imagined."
Catherine's tone was very serious as she pointed to the ledger.
"Mr. Bill's supply has reached its limit. I contacted three other larger meat wholesalers in the city, and their quotes are, on average, fifteen to twenty percent higher than what we get from Mr. Bill. If we accept, our profit margin will be squeezed."
"They are colluding to strangle us."
Allen's expression was calm, as he had somewhat anticipated this.
"We suddenly became New York's largest beef buyer, disrupting their years of unspoken understanding and profit balance. They want to nip us in the bud before we grow strong."
"Then what should we do?"
For the first time, a genuine look of worry appeared on Catherine's face.
"They control almost all the meat sources in New York. If they don't agree, we might need to buy from further away, which would be even more costly."
Allen, of course, knew the influence of those people.
"Exactly, so we cannot play by their rules." A shrewd glint flickered in Allen's eyes.
"What we need to do is create a new rule. Catherine, do you think we should establish our own purchasing and slaughtering department, or should we find a way to make Mr. Bill one of us?"
This was a classic business strategy question: vertical integration or strategic outsourcing.
"Building our own department has the advantage of one hundred percent control."
Catherine immediately slipped into her analyst role.
"All profits belong to us, and there's no risk of betrayal. But the disadvantages are also obvious: time. Establishing a new slaughterhouse, recruiting and training enough skilled butchers, and building relationships with upstream farms would take at least three to six months. And our factory can't wait that long."
"That's right." Allen nodded.
"And deep cooperation with Mr. Bill..."
"The advantage is speed. He has an existing team, experience, and channels, and can immediately jump into action. The disadvantage is that he is, after all, an independent businessman, and we cannot completely control him. If, in the future, a larger buyer comes along and tries to poach him with a higher price..."
"So, our plan must make it impossible for him to be poached, and make him not want to leave at all."
The corner of Allen's mouth curved into a confident smile.
"I want him to earn more than ever before, and at the same time, turn him and me into a true community of shared interests."
"Catherine, help me draft a document. A memorandum of cooperation for the establishment of a new company."
The next day, Allen brought this document and came to Bill's warehouse again.
Inside the warehouse, the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive.
Bill was furious because the raw material prices had been jointly inflated. Seeing Allen, he waved his hand irritably.
"Allen, don't rush me! It's not that I won't supply you, it's those damn wholesalers, they've ganged up to make my life hell! If this continues, let alone your factory, even my warehouse will have to close."
"Bill, I'm here for this very thing."
Allen placed the document on the greasy table in front of Bill.
"I've brought you something that can launch our counterattack."
"What is it?"
Bill picked up the document, puzzled.
"A proposal for the establishment of a new company," Allen said slowly.
"I propose that you and I jointly invest to establish a meat processing and trading company. I've even thought of the name: 'Metropolitan Meat United Company.'"
"Jointly establish a company?"
"Exactly."
Allen began to elaborate on his plan.
"First, regarding investment. Bill, all the tangible assets of your current butcher shop and this warehouse—including the lease, equipment, tools, and your team of over twenty skilled butchers—will all be injected into the new company. We'll invite the most impartial appraiser in the city to value them. I guess it's worth about two thousand dollars. This will be your stake."
"And I will inject three thousand dollars in cash into this new company! This money will serve as the company's startup capital and expansion capital."
Bill's breathing began to quicken.
He realized this could be something that would change his life..
"The second point is about equity."
"After the new company is established, the total capital will be five thousand dollars. Of that, I will own sixty percent of the shares, and you will own forty percent."
Upon hearing this, Bill's eyes dimmed slightly.
In this scenario, he would lose control of his own business.
Allen also noticed the change in Bill's expression and immediately threw out the most crucial point.
"However... although I am the major shareholder, I will not casually interfere with the company's operations unless it's a major issue. I will sign an irrevocable agreement with you, ensuring that as long as my interests are not infringed upon, you will have the right to manage and operate the company's daily affairs for the rest of your life. In other words, in this new company, you, Bill, will be the true boss in charge."
Bill was completely confused.
Allen was giving him money, giving him orders, taking a majority stake, yet actively giving up control of the company's operations?
This was illogical!
"Allen... what exactly do you want to do?"
"What I want is very simple."
Allen looked into his eyes and said with utmost sincerity.
"Bill, I know how to make canned goods, how to manage a factory, and how to sell things to the wealthy on Fifth Avenue. But I don't know how to tell a good cow from a bad one, how to deal with those cunning farmers, and even less how to manage a group of unruly butchers. These are your specialties. If I, an amateur, were to direct an expert, this new company would surely fail."
"By giving up part of my voting rights, I want to tell you that I absolutely trust your professional abilities. What I need is not a subordinate who listens to me, but a powerful ally who can stand on his own and hold the raw material front for me. I need you, like a true boss, to fight with full motivation for our common cause."
These words completely broke through Bill's inner defenses.
This was the legendary respect and trust that would make a scholar die for his confidant.
"There's also a third point, regarding our cooperation model."
Allen continued to raise the stakes.
"After the new company is established, it will be the sole and exclusive raw material supplier for Williams Food Company for the next ten years. We will operate on a cost-plus pricing model, and I guarantee the company will always have a stable fifteen percent profit. And you, in turn, must ensure that all of your production capacity is prioritized for supplying my factory."
"Bill, calculate this carefully."
Allen's voice was full of temptation.
"You no longer have to worry about any risks, no longer have to cater to anyone. You will have three thousand dollars in cash to fight a price war with those wholesalers. Behind you, my factory, which earns a fortune daily, will be providing you with a lifeline. You will become New York's largest slaughterhouse owner, earning ten times more money than before, and you will still be the company's manager. Tell me, is there a better collaboration in this world than this?"
No.
Bill knew there absolutely wasn't.
What Allen offered him was not a contract, but a broad road to the pinnacle of his career, something he never dared to dream of.
All his risks were hedged by Allen's capital.
All his dreams were realized by Allen's ingenious equity design.
He looked at the man twenty years his junior, and for the first time, a feeling of awe arose in his heart.
"Allen..."
He stood up and extended his hand to Allen, his voice hoarse with excitement.
"You are not a fierce tiger, you are Satan. A devil who makes people willingly sell their souls to him."
"No, Satan is what my enemies call me. For friends and allies, Bill, you should call me 'Hermes.'"
Allen smiled and shook his hand firmly.
A powerful alliance, backed by Allen's capital and foresight, and spearheaded by Bill's expertise and network, was thus born.
While the old-guard wholesalers in the New York meat market were congratulating themselves on successfully "curbing" an emerging buyer by jointly raising prices...
They had no idea that a more hungry, more ferocious behemoth, armed with capital, had already sharpened its claws, ready to completely devour them, hide and bone.