Chapter 907: Chapter 907: Opportunity Always Favors the Prepared
When it comes to success, some people lack ability, while others only lack an opportunity.
For example, Hank from the New Continent belongs to the latter case.
His dealings in "fake liquor" and arms smuggling clearly show he’s not the type to settle down.
And indeed, that’s exactly the case.
From the moment he set foot on the No.1 Settlement, he started pondering the Alliance’s game rules, and he didn’t even rest while working at the dock.
However, his motivation for understanding the Alliance’s game rules wasn’t to find some get-rich-quick loopholes but to minimize risks and find policy resources he could use.
The biggest lesson he learned from his first two businesses was that speculative trades couldn’t last long.
He could win many times, but if he lost just once, he would lose everything.
But this time it won’t happen.
He has found a legal and highly profitable "money-making model."
Through his persuasion, Phil established the first investment bank registered at the No.1 Settlement—Phil’s Bank.
And with those piles of Dinars as collateral, he successfully secured a loan that he couldn’t obtain before, thanks to Mr. Phil’s help.
And he secured as much as 22 million silver coins!
Including the 8 million silver coins Phil already held, Hank now had 30 million silver coins in his hands as leverage.
Putting all his chips in one basket, in some sense this counts as a high-stakes gamble.
On the cargo ship docked by the pier, Phil watched the bank employees moving the boxes, his face a mix of emotions.
It was the wealth he accumulated over half a lifetime.
Originally, he intended to keep it in the bank, yet he felt like he had been coaxed into buying financial products right beside the bank counter.
Although it’s not just about investment, it’s also about a new home for him and his fellow people in the future, he couldn’t help but feel pained.
"... The entire No.1 Settlement only has a population of over a hundred thousand, by the Marshal... I really don’t know how we are supposed to earn back these 30 million silver coins."
Looking at the visibly anxious investor, Hank placed his hand on Phil’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring pat.
"One hundred thousand is just the current number, two years ago there was not a single soul here. Yet just a few days ago, 5000 people came ashore in a single day at the dock beneath our feet... I bet this situation will occur frequently, we need to look at the issue with a developmental mindset, just like Mr. Gu."
In his view, the representative named Gu Ning was helping them precisely because he was considering the potential future influx of population.
"A developmental mindset..." Phil’s brows twitched as he couldn’t help but retort, "I read your proposal, the first phase includes only 4 buildings totaling 800 units, and even that will consume 80% of your funds. Where do you plan to find money for the subsequent phases?"
"Find money? My friend, once our first phase is completed, we won’t need to find money; money will come to us."
Hank, with a smile on his face, continued while embracing Phil’s shoulder.
"I’ve calculated it, each unit’s cost is about 40,000 silver coins, standard size being 80 square meters, as for the price, selling for 100,000 silver coins is not a problem."
"A hundred thousand?!" Phil’s eyes rounded as he exclaimed, "What are you thinking, how could anyone spend so much money on a cement box?!"
100,000 silver coins are equivalent to four to five hundred thousand Dinars, roughly the price if you mortgage Dinars to the bank.
In Evernight Harbor, this sum would be enough to purchase a home in a bustling location.
And Evernight Harbor’s population is tens of times larger than here!
Hank, seeing Phil’s expression, guessed what he was thinking and patiently explained.
"You can’t compare the Alliance with the experiences from Evernight Harbor; tell me truthfully, do aliens in Evernight Harbor count as people? Despite your population appearing to be hundreds of thousands, at least 90% are beasts, that’s me being modest."
As for those soldiers, they basically live in barracks and can’t be counted as part of the colony’s population.
Hearing Hank’s explanation, Phil paused slightly, contemplating, and realized it indeed seemed to be the case.
His jewelry business was booming there, but his regular customers were only a handful, countable on two hands.
Aliens wouldn’t patronize his jewelry store, nor would they possibly purchase properties.
The Blackwater Alley where they lived didn’t even have house numbers.
Seeing the turning gears in Phil’s mind, Hank continued patiently.
"You are clueless about the purchasing power of Alliance residents. Working at the dock for a month, as long as they aren’t slacking off, earning 2,000 silver coins is incredibly easy."
"2,000 silver coins... even so, it would take them over four years to save up 100,000 silver coins, and that’s assuming they don’t eat or drink." Although Phil no longer doubted the ordinary citizens of the Alliance could afford it, he couldn’t help but marvel after doing the calculation.
Four years of not eating or drinking to afford it is longer than the time this settlement has existed.
If he remembered correctly, the No.1 Settlement’s history is not even two years old.
Seeing Phil still thinking with a pawn shop mentality, Hank smiled and shook his head.
"You’re overlooking one thing; we can borrow from the Alliance’s banks, and the Alliance residents can also take out loans from banks. Moreover, their loans are much easier to acquire and have cheaper interest rates."
Phil: "... How cheap?"
"An interest rate of one percent, doesn’t it sound like a giveaway?"
Looking at the dumbfounded Perry, Hank smiled and waved a finger, continuing to speak.
"As long as your monthly salary exceeds 1000 silver coins, and you have acquired Alliance citizenship, and the loan is for the purpose of a self-owned residence, they can easily lend money equivalent to ten times their annual income, with a repayment period that can be extended to over 20 years... As for the collateral, you could say there is none, or you could say it’s the house they purchased."
"Based on my experience in the New Continent, personal housing expenses below one-third of monthly income are considered reasonable. Not to mention, the Alliance’s low-rent housing isn’t given to them for free; it’s just that the rent is relatively cheap. And now, they only need to spend one-third or even less of their monthly income to move into a larger, more spacious, and more decent house, with not only an independent kitchen but also a bathroom and toilet... The most crucial thing is that this house belongs to them, and they can stay in it for as long as the Alliance exists without anyone kicking them out."
"According to this calculation, as long as one’s monthly income exceeds 1000 silver coins and they have obtained Alliance citizenship... everyone is our potential customer."
In fact, it’s not just Alliance citizenship; those with the status of a regulated individual can also get loans, only the interest will be one point higher.
And after obtaining Alliance citizenship, they can modify their loan through very simple procedures.
Although the money already paid won’t be refunded, it will be deducted from the total amount of the loan and interest.
In a sense, this is a measure to stimulate the economy.
It’s also a benefit for the general citizens of the Alliance.
After all, relative to the Alliance’s annual growth rate, such low-interest loans are almost indistinguishable from giving money away.
Perry couldn’t help but hold his breath, but still felt a bit worried and couldn’t help but ask.
"...But why would they buy your house?"
Hank smiled faintly.
"Because of scarcity, the Alliance will build those corn buildings for them, but equality does not mean average. No one wants to live in those things for their whole life or even generations, sharing a toilet with neighbors. The pursuit of a better life is human nature, and what we offer them... It’s certainly more meaningful than letting them waste money on alcohol, isn’t it?"
"Sounds wonderful..." Perry murmured, his eyes lighting up.
"In fact, it’s not bad," Hank said, patting Perry’s shoulder as he saw he was no longer worried, "Once the first phase of the project is completed, our game will officially start... As for the second phase, I haven’t decided yet, but let’s just set a unit price of 120,000 silver coins for now."
Perry’s eyes widened in surprise.
"A 20% price increase? Will anyone still buy it?"
Hank smiled.
"It will sell out."
...
Hank’s vision is indeed quite sharp.
From the very beginning, his target customers were not just the survivors from the No. 1 Settlement, but survivors from the entire Death Coast and even the Eastern Provinces.
If the Alliance’s space elevator is completed, the land beneath his feet will become the closest "land settlement" to space, and this is the truly scarcest resource.
Even though the South Sea Union is closer, those islands are small and scattered, hardly able to compete with him.
And to say something quite irreverent, if the Southern Legion loses the war in Poluo Province, those gamblers might lose not just West Sail Port.
The entire southern colony might be swept into the tide of the national liberation movement.
Referencing the tragic incidents that occurred in West Sail Port, it’s impossible for Weilante people living in the colonies to remain.
And by then, they actually only have three options—
Either return to Triumph City, go to the New Continent.
Or come to the Alliance’s territory.
These new immigrants bring not only labor but also the knowledge and wealth they possess.
Hank’s true ambition is far greater than what he verbally articulated.
He not only wants to make Vellante Street in No. 1 Settlement the most prosperous area along this coast but also to use the historical opportunity of No. 1 Settlement to make his Hank Group’s brand renowned!
In the future, when people mention his name, they will associate it with the pursuit of excellence.
And the skyscrapers he constructs will become synonymous with quality and a good life.
Even imagining further, in the future, people on this planet will have a renewed understanding of Weilante people—
They are not just war-crazed with gun barrels in their heads, but also excellent engineers and even artists with boundless creativity!
With the funding from Phil’s Bank in place, construction teams from the North Island of the South Sea Union began arriving at the construction site one after another.
The construction materials used on the site are shipped from Potato Harbor, as well as Weifu City in the north.
As for the on-site workers, besides the workers from No. 1 Settlement, there are also expatriate laborers employed by North Island Construction Company, coming from the Mammoth Nation.
Of course, there are also young Weilante lads who have just disembarked.
On the matter of unity, Weilante people indeed have no complaints. Even though Hank is a "notoriously worst" New Continent native, Perry still lent him the money.
For those fellow countrymen fleeing danger, Hank indeed provided them with the utmost care within his capability... Even if he is the "most cunning Weilante person."
Conversely, Poluo people exhibited a "split" performance.
Generous individuals often expressed unreserved generosity, to the point of neglecting themselves, while cunning individuals often displayed extreme cunningness, without a single pixel in their eyes belonging to others.
Except for the Moon people who were once the most marginalized but now show some unity, for other survivors from Poluo Province, internal conflicts are routine.
And this often doesn’t just happen between the Snake Clan and the Mouse Tribe, but usually also occurs within the same tribe.
Sometimes it’s not even out of self-interest; it’s merely the inability to stand others having a good time.
Sometimes they cannot stand the Weilante people doing well, and sometimes they cannot stand other Mouse Tribe members doing well.
And this results in a bizarre situation.
During the selection of representatives, they are the staunchest opponents of racial narratives, seemingly the most progressive individuals, and will definitely not cast that vote of trust for their fellow people.
Those Poluo people who become representatives due to the trust of the Alien race will strive to shed the Poluo mark, dissociate themselves from other Poluo individuals, propose proposals unfavorable to Poluo people, and even go as far as changing their names.
After all, the Alliance’s ID cards don’t have a race category; everyone is an Alliance citizen. As long as they change the family name marking their identity, essentially half of the mark is erased. Only Poluo people themselves can recognize those who’ve also eaten dirt.
And when they realize that someone from their family has succeeded, but didn’t speak for them, those who never supported that person will, like Schrödinger’s cat, revert to being conservative and the staunchest supporters of racial narratives, using the most malicious curses and strictest moral standards to try and bind those with similar marks.
As for the outcome, it’s evident.
Except for truly selfless saints and utter frauds, no one would give such people a good look.
When a lose-lose situation forms, it often isn’t due to a single mistake by a person or a decision, but a systemic loss of control at the root.
This cannot be reversed by one or two wars.
Regrettably, those thunderous shouts are indeed rare on the Wasteland; at least the Weilante people haven’t birthed "Mr. Mouse," nor a series of successors.
However, they woke up quite happily.
What awakened Hank was a maritime disaster, and what awakened Evernight Harbor’s residents was simply a guy named Comte.
They had no nostalgia whatsoever, decisively letting go of the past and moving forward.
But in Poluo Province, it took the Moon people nearly being slaughtered to wake up abruptly.
And even more people, even standing on the Alliance’s land, still wander in dreams...
As a Hank Group construction team headed to the site, large white letters on a green background were painted on the iron wall separating the construction site.
It was personally written by Hank.
Standing by the roadside, he tossed the brush into the paint bucket, smiled with satisfaction, clapped his hands, and recited the words with a bard-like tone.
"... Vellante Street has the style of the Weilante people, but is not only a street for the Weilante people."
"We are committed to ending the Wasteland Era and welcome everyone, whether compatriots from afar or local friends."
"Great, great... I hope the Survivor Daily will kindly make it a headline."
...
At the same time as the Vellante Street project commenced, a man in the Representative Council’s General Committee Office looked troubled.
His name was Wu Jingshan, formerly a resident of Giant Stone City, previously held the position of company commander in the Southern Construction Corps, later came here with the identity of a pioneer and Shelter No. 404’s residents, being among the earliest residents of No.1 Settlement.
Moreover, he was also one of the earliest representatives of local residents, later being elected by other representatives as a General Committee member.
In the Representative Council, General Committee members are representatives too, just with relatively special roles, similar to "conference hosts."
Due to the temporary absence of distinct political factions in the Alliance, or the fact that the Manager and residents are themselves the largest faction, the "General Committee member" is usually chosen as a mediator recognized by both the Conservative faction and Radical faction.
Simply put, neither faction can find a fully trustworthy ally, so they simply select a "mediator."
Wu Jingshan was the "mediator" of No.1 Settlement.
When disputes between different factions became too fierce, he would come forward to persuade both sides to compromise, ensuring the winner doesn’t win too much, and the loser doesn’t lose all their stakes.
Previously, due to the Poluo people’s actions surrounding the City Hall, the Conservative faction achieved an overwhelming victory in the "Vellante Street proposal."
Honestly, he didn’t really want to get involved in such a non-controversial issue, even though he himself had voted against it.
However, just yesterday, a representative named Su Ka sought him out, telling him that a significant portion of Poluo people were dissatisfied with the Representative Council’s decision, believing it didn’t represent them and were brewing something bigger.
Wu Jingshan didn’t know whether Su Ka approached him due to his identity recognition as a former Poluo person or from a Radical faction’s standpoint.
But he couldn’t ignore the reminder from that Poluo representative.
After all, this is the Wasteland; no one can guarantee how big the so-called big thing will be.
Because of that, he reported the matter to the Guards Corps and local police station, and simultaneously found the proposer, Gu Ning, hoping the latter could propose a revision that could calm the Radical faction or Poluo people’s sentiments.
As the proposer, he was the most likely person to accomplish this.
However, after hearing the "mediator’s" request, Gu Ning merely sighed and placed the teacup he held onto the table.
"To be honest, I’m quite surprised. My proposal passed with 80% approval votes, and the remaining 20% opposition didn’t even account for half; it could be described as ’uncontroversial.’ I didn’t expect you to still find me."
Wu Jingshan sighed and said.
"I’m merely seeking your opinion, not forcefully requiring you to change your viewpoint..."
Gu Ning chuckled.
"I guess it’s that Su Ka guy trying to convince you to persuade me."
Honestly, he really looked down on some of the radical faction people in No.1 Settlement.
The Workers’ Association folks were mostly radical too, but at least they had the guts to physically go to Poluo Province to support the local reforms, using the money and dues voluntarily donated by the workers, without spending a dime of the Alliance’s finances.
Take Owen, for example.
At the second gunshot at West Sail Port, this guy was right on the front line, fighting shoulder to shoulder with the Family Meeting folks.
Although in the end he was thrown back by the Southern Legion, the fact that he could carry out his ideals to this extent is quite manly.
As for those so-called radical faction people around him, besides spending money and chanting, he truly hadn’t seen any spirit of daring to be the first in them.
Those guys seemed more like they treated the Poluo people as little pets that needed pampering, distorting the so-called solidarity into various forms of preferential treatment.
This was fundamentally contrary to the Alliance’s ideology of equality.
And more shamefully, they completely ignored the shifting public opinion and the resentment of the Alliance’s residents towards demanding special treatment.
Before this group of fools and the Poluo people made the word "solidarity" stink, he felt he must stand up and do something.
In Gu Ning’s view, the best approach was to set an example for this weak and incompetent radical faction, to show them what true solidarity really looked like.
Looking at the unyielding Gu Ning, Wu Jingshan sighed and said.
"No matter who found me, I personally think Vellante Street isn’t a good idea."
Gu Ning chuckled noncommittally.
"They’re spending their own money. Whether it’s a good idea or not, we’ll see once it’s built. Besides, I’ve never seen you smoke less despite it polluting the air."
Wu Jingshan stared at him.
"Are you endorsing them then?"
"I never said that. I merely exercised my constitutional rights and did what I believe was right," Gu Ning said with a slight smile, leaving no room for error.
Sitting opposite him, Wu Jingshan was silent for a while, letting out a sigh.
"The Manager is coming soon, you know that, right?"
Gu Ning said calmly.
"Everyone in the settlement knows."
Wu Jingshan continued.
"Then you should be aware, we have significant tensions with the Army right now. If the Manager has objections to this project, it will definitely fall through, which wouldn’t be good for those Weilante people either."
Gu Ning concisely replied.
"You think the Manager would have objections because you don’t truly understand him."
Wu Jingshan retorted.
"Do you understand him then?"
Gu Ning gave a gentle smile.
"I wouldn’t make any bold claims, but I’m confident that the gentleman supports Poluo Province not out of special treatment for the Poluo people, but for the Alliance’s interests. This is fundamentally different from those overly sympathetic folks."
Wu Jingshan couldn’t help but say.
"Have you considered another scenario?"
Seeing this general committee officer hesitating to speak, Gu Ning’s eyebrows slightly raised.
"What scenario?"
Wu Jingshan stared at him for a moment, then suddenly blurted out.
"What if those Poluo people kneeled before him?"
He didn’t even know why he thought of this suddenly, clearly just a few minutes ago he was still worried that those Poluo people might bomb the place where they were meeting.
Maybe, in his subconscious, this seemed more like something those people might actually do.
Gu Ning looked at the general committee officer sitting opposite him in surprise, unsure whether to be amazed at his thinking or the scenario he proposed.
Sitting up straight, Gu Ning locked eyes with him.
"...Do you know what I’m thinking?"
Slightly unable to fathom this guy, Wu Jingshan said indecisively.
"...What are you thinking?"
Gu Ning suddenly smiled, leaned back comfortably in his chair.
"Bring it on."