socalfunplaces Page 218
Page 218
Finally, the main event: He Rue's gambling business.
He was still smiling, but his tone was much more cautious.
“Our traditional venues are seeing steady revenue growth. But the real highlight is our ‘peripheral business’.”
He used the term to refer to the gray areas of sports betting, underground casinos, and digital gambling, as well as other adult-oriented entertainment.
"The cash flow is very... substantial. It's almost equivalent to the sum of all other business cash inflows. You can take a look at the report."
He didn't give specific figures, but everyone present understood what it meant—a bottomless "black hole" that constantly swallows and spews cash, the group's true source of wealth, but also its most dangerous Achilles' heel.
This is the reason why Victor needs to pay a huge amount of taxes to obtain IRS protection:
This prevents people from causing trouble for you, and also prevents your subordinates from finding someone to replace you.
Michael interjected at the opportune moment, explaining how they carefully vetted the sources of these funds through promotional activities, charitable donations, and media partnerships, thus giving the group a glamorous image of a socially responsible corporation.
Viktor listened quietly to each person's report, only occasionally, very rarely, would he ask a question.
"Blair, can the expansion of the restaurant business keep up with staff training?"
"Ethan, what percentage of our business is external? Won't excessive reliance on external clients distract us from our core focus?"
"Svetlana, does the method of calculating the loan default rate include the final recovery portion after Franky and his team 'processed' it?"
"Hercules, has the relationship with the municipal planning department been completely established for that new location in the South District? I don't want to hear any unexpected noise."
"Frankie, we need to look at things both internally and externally. What happened to those five people who accepted bribes last time?"
Every question went straight to the heart of the matter, concerning efficiency, risk, cost, and safety. There was no fluff, no praise, only confirmation and follow-up questions.
Viktor's affirmation was merely a slight nod, his tone as flat as stating a fact he already knew:
"Well done."
"Keep it up."
"Let the capable ones do it!"
When all the reports were finished, a brief, weary silence fell over the conference room, with only the silent swirling of cigar smoke.
The sky outside the window was completely dark, and the city lights were just coming on. The festive lights formed a dazzling galaxy on the distant streets, adorning Chicago on Christmas Eve.
Viktor leaned forward slowly, supporting himself on the shiny table with his arms crossed, his posture resembling a lion poised to pounce.
All eyes instantly focused on him, the previous hushed conversations and the sound of turning pages completely disappeared, and the air seemed to tighten.
When he opened his mouth, his voice was not loud, but deep and penetrating, each word clearly reaching everyone's ears, carrying an undeniable weight.
He repeated Blair's opening remarks, but with a completely different meaning.
"eat first!"
Everyone looked at Viktor, hoping their leader would get up first.
But Viktor had no such idea: "Right here, let's eat our boxed lunch!"
Everyone was whispering to each other.
Ethan stood up and yelled outside, "Bring the boxed lunches!"
A roar came from outside: "The table's set up, time to eat your boxed lunches?"
"Stop talking nonsense! Bring the boxed lunches!"
"Donkey Ball has worked enough for a day!"
The person speaking outside was Nick, speaking with a thick Chinese accent that seemed to have been picked up from somewhere, a truly mixed accent: "I need to say it again!"
Viktor rested his chin on his hand and sighed:
"Fine, let's go eat together!"
Chapter 184 The Direction of the Future and a Heartwarming Holiday
After finishing their meal, everyone went into the room and began the meeting.
"In 87, we stood firm."
This is not a question, but a declaration.
"I didn't give you much money. Apart from the $100,000 you each had, each family probably only had about $10,000 to $20,000 in savings."
Victor looked at everyone present and said, "But we definitely have enough supplies. We have plenty of rice, flour, and cooking oil. We even have factories that make clothes and pants. We have schools for our children, and we have our own hospitals! We even have a fixed number of places available at the University of Chicago. We certainly won't lack anything in terms of quality of life!"
"This is all thanks to the chairman's wise decision!"
"Thank you, Chairman."
Everyone is serious.
The quality of life for Chinese Americans in Chicago has truly improved significantly. After weathering the storms of racial violence, boycotts of Japanese goods, and the financial crisis, the stable Chinese American community has become one of the best communities in the hearts of Chicagoans.
The original size of the 200,000 Chinese population was 50,000 households, but after Victor strongly promoted the birth policy, the number of households surged to 60,000, with more than 10,000 men and women getting married and forming families. Many of them were white people who could not bear the severe decline in their income levels.
Viktor raised his hand to stop clapping.
"In 1988, the direction remained unchanged. The five mainstays were: catering, security, finance, agriculture, and gambling. They were our foundation, shield, purse strings, granary, and gold mine. This was unshakeable."
His gaze was sharp as he swept across every face. "There were only two main tasks in 1988. One was to get me the gaming license for the Skywind Twin Towers and have it built by 1988. The other was to take half of the cash flow with me; we had to acquire the two hotels in Atlantic City."
Then he began to call roll, like a general assigning tasks.
"Blair, your task is to coordinate all resources and ensure that the five main forces receive everything they need first. I want to see synergy, not each fighting their own battles."
Blair nodded solemnly: "Understood."
Victor turned his gaze to the lawyer. “Keep a close eye on legal risks, especially in gambling and finance. I need to know about any new regulations, potential investigations, or any emerging signs immediately. I don’t want any spark to ignite our yard.”
Jimmy pushed up his glasses, his eyes sharp, as if he were taking a graduate entrance exam: "The legal team is on standby at all times; risk management is our primary responsibility."
“H.R.,”
Victor looked at the smiling gambling manager, his eyes slightly deep. "Your cash is important, but expansion must be cautious. Every step requires establishing connections beforehand, and smoothing things over at all levels. I want things to proceed smoothly, not recklessly. Understand?"
H.R.'s smile faded slightly, and he became extremely serious: "Understood, boss. Every step will be taken carefully."
"Find me a few teams; I need to put them into use as soon as possible. You're under a lot of pressure."
"Absolutely no problem."
"Frankie,"
Victor looked at his cousin. “Your manpower and equipment must keep pace with the group. It’s not just about quantity, but quality. I don’t need brutes who only know how to throw punches; I need people who can understand the situation and use their brains. Atlantic City isn’t a place where being on the front lines can solve most problems. Leave the training to Ethan; you’ll oversee it.”
Franky nodded heavily, his voice rough: "Don't worry, Victor. The best equipment, the toughest men, are ready to go at any time."
“Svetlana,”
Viktor's gaze finally settled on "Sister Russia." "Cash flow is your top priority, always. I need to be clear about every penny that comes in and goes. Profits must be maximized, costs must be minimized, but I don't want to see any unnecessary holes, or... unclear accounts."
His words carried a subtle warning.
Svetlana met his gaze without flinching, a confident smile curving her red lips: "Cash flow is like vodka, pure and potent. My department will never have any 'surprises,' Victor."
"Your company wants to deepen its cooperation with Hru and Frankie. Which gambler would let luck slip through their fingers?"
"We will do better."
Finally, he looked at Old Joe, who had remained silent all along: "Old Joe, I need to see the most truthful information in your audit report. No matter who is involved, no matter which department. Truth is the only basis for my decisions."
Old Joe simply bowed slightly and said succinctly, "No problem."
His words were met with no cheers or applause.
There was only a solemn nod, the rapid sound of note-taking (Blair and Jimmy were especially quick), and heavy breathing.
This is a confirmation of power, a redistribution of resources, and a consolidation of strategy.
Viktor, like an emperor, takes stock of his territory and army at the end of the year, ensuring that every link is firmly in his grasp and that everyone understands their responsibilities and boundaries.
"We'll have a lunch gathering on the fifth floor this afternoon, a continuous feast where everyone can eat and drink to their heart's content!"
·······
The meeting adjourned, and everyone prepared for the afternoon's banquet.
Everyone stood up, and the sound of tidying up clothes and documents filled the air.
The atmosphere seemed to have relaxed a bit, but the invisible pressure hadn't completely dissipated.
Dozens of Chinese shareholders smiled and said goodbye to Victor, wishing him good fortune and prosperity, and wishing him a happy new year. Victor shook hands with them briefly, a rare and barely perceptible hint of easing on his face.
Blair and Jimmy exchanged whispered opinions and hurried toward the door; they needed to begin implementing Victor's instructions immediately.
H.R. and Frankie walked side by side for a short distance, exchanging a few words in hushed tones about the handover of certain territories and the coordination of personnel.
Svetlana gracefully picked up her crocodile handbag, her gaze sweeping over Old Joe, who was tidying up his notebook, her expression complex and unreadable.
Michael, meanwhile, was on the phone and had already begun arranging the next public relations event.
Victor finally stood up, walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, turned his back to everyone, and gazed at the dazzling yet cold Christmas lights of Chicago outside the window.
Beneath the festive veneer, this city still adheres to ruthless business rules and cold, numbers-based games, a dog-eat-dog world where the strong prey on the weak and the winner takes all.
And he, Victor, has just reaffirmed his status as one of the winners.
Ethan silently stuffed the training plan into his briefcase, glanced at Victor's back, those broad shoulders seemed to bear the shadow of the entire Windy City.
He knew that the end of the meeting meant that the new year's battles had just begun.
The numbers on the table are impressive, but behind them lie countless unseen struggles, negotiations, threats, and compromises.
Franky stopped at the door, glanced back at Victor by the window, and whispered to Ethan beside him, "Let's go, bro. The boss has drawn the circle; we need to make the fence tighter."
The conference room door slowly closed, temporarily locking away the aroma of expensive cigars, the lingering scent of coffee, and the invisible yet powerful power struggle atop this windy city.
The Christmas Eve extravaganza spread out beneath their feet, but everyone in the conference room knew that beneath this splendor lay the imperial territory they had fought for and protected with their wisdom, methods, and sometimes even blood.
The game is over; once a move is made, there's no going back.
The year 1988 began quietly amidst the interplay of a hazy sky and dazzling lights.
·······
The chilly Christmas wind swept through the city streets, but it couldn't dispel the warm light shining from the windows of the detached villas in the southern district—the New Year was just around the corner.