"No room for negotiation?"
"No room for negotiation."
"I want to sell."
"Nobody's buying."
"What are the terms?"
"This much."
Huang Tao stared at Zhang Bo's three outstretched fingers, his eyes narrowing. "Thirty pounds of seafood a day?"
Zhang Bo slapped the table. "What are you dreaming of? This is thirty percent. Thirty percent of the daily haul from residents using your boat, after deducting their minimum earnings."
"Minimum earnings?"
Zhang Bo said, "That's right. The fishermen who rent the boat are guaranteed a minimum of two pounds each. Fishing is risky, after all. We can't have them go out to sea for nothing."
"At that rate, I'll be begging for scraps."
"Plenty of people wish they had this opportunity."
Huang Tao's brow furrowed at his words. "There are still people in the Alliance Association."
"You could ask them to rent your boat, then," Zhang Bo said, completely unconcerned.
Huang Tao's mouth twitched. "You think you have me under your thumb?"
