Making money is often not that complicated.
Because of Davey's intervention, Arthur and his group's plan to rob the cruise ship failed. As a result, there was no need for them to jump into the water to escape. The gambling cruise would remain at sea until dawn the next day before finally docking. With no other option, Arthur and the others had to stay on board.
Strauss suggested, "Our original plan may have failed, but we didn't lose money. I just did the math—after deducting Trelawny's costs, we still made over a thousand dollars."
"So why don't we keep gambling?"
"The dealer's our friend. We won't lose. We can just keep winning."
"Just now, we made nearly two thousand dollars in less than an hour."
"Even if we don't make that much later, the night is still long. There are plenty more hours ahead."
Trelawny's eyes lit up when he heard this. "That's actually a great plan. It feels more reliable than the last one. What do you think, Arthur?"
Arthur nodded. "Maybe we can give it a try."
As it turned out, more often than not, gambling really did make money faster than robbery.
The next day, when the cruise ship docked, Arthur and the others stood there staring blankly at the money they'd won. After a single night of gambling, they had earned nearly ten thousand dollars. It was downright absurd.
Even after setting aside a cut for the dealer, they still had eight thousand dollars left. In the game's storyline, after all the robbing and killing, they only ended up with six thousand dollars in the end.
"This gambling money came way too fast. It's unbelievable we made this much," Javier said, his eyes shining as he looked at the thick stack of bills in Arthur's hand.
Trelawny burst out laughing. "That's because luck's been on our side, hasn't it—even though he took nearly two thousand dollars."
The "luck" he was referring to was, of course, the dealer.
Just like with the silk-stocking tycoon Desmond Blythe, with the dealer's help they kept winning chips. Naturally, they would deliberately lose a few smaller rounds now and then, but once the stack of chips grew large enough, luck inevitably tilted in their favor.
"Gentlemen, maybe we should get into the gambling business. It's much faster than robbery."
Trelawny said cheerfully as they divided up the money.
Strauss immediately shot the idea down. "That's only because this gambling ship is under Mac's control."
"He's helping us. Without his permission, we would've been kicked off a long time ago—maybe even thrown into the sea."
"Believe me, Trelawny, if you get addicted to gambling, you'll lose everything."
"No one will allow you to keep doing this forever."
Trelawny shrugged. "All right, Strauss. You're right."
"But for now, gentlemen, maybe we should find a hotel, enjoy a proper massage, get some rest, and then prepare for our next plan."
This proposal was unanimously approved.
A bath, a massage, maybe a cup of hot coffee—this was the rhythm of a man's life. No one disliked that.
As they were leaving, Arthur glanced back at the luxurious cruise ship. Just by bribing a dealer, they had made eight thousand dollars. How much money did this ship make in a single night? And how much of that ended up in Davey's pocket?
Thinking back to the things Davey had once said to him, Arthur suddenly felt a sense of clarity.
So this was the right way to embrace civilization.
...
Saint Denis, the Land Mansion.
Several staff members from the Saint Denis Bank arrived at the estate.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Land. I'm Johnny, president of the Saint Denis Bank. It's a pleasure to serve you."
The president of the Saint Denis Bank was a major figure, not only in the city but across the entire West. Yet for this loan, he had come in person. There was no helping it—the customer was king.
Given the sheer size of the loan, Johnny naturally treated it with the utmost seriousness. If this deal went through, it would account for nearly half of the bank's annual lending target.
"Mr. Johnny, it's a pleasure to meet you," Davey said with a smile.
"I didn't expect you to come personally. I'm surprised—and honored."
As he spoke, he instructed Elisa to have the other maids bring out brandy, Cuban cigars, and refined desserts.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Land," several of the bank staff said in unison.
Johnny continued, "My apologies, Mr. Land, but may I take a look at your factory documentation and the advance payment receipts for the equipment?"
"After all, three hundred thousand dollars is no small sum. It will need to go through strict review before we can obtain approval from the board and shareholders."
"Of course, given your credentials, I don't expect any problems."
Davey nodded. "Of course."
Elisa brought over the documents, and Johnny carefully checked the seals and dates. Even though he knew Mr. Land had ample financial backing, he remained cautious—the amount involved was simply too large.
The reason Davey could borrow such a large sum was that he was using his factories as collateral.
A canned food factory, a leather factory, a furniture factory, a textile factory, a paper mill, a flour mill, and a printing factory—six factories in total.
None of them were small workshops. Even the smallest, the printing factory, employed around thirty workers. The largest, the canned food factory, was expected to hire four hundred people.
Altogether, these factories would provide over a thousand jobs. For Saint Denis, this was a substantial industrial undertaking.
More importantly, all the equipment purchased for these factories was the latest machinery from the eastern United States. The cost of the equipment alone already amounted to one hundred thousand dollars.
These industries were exactly what the West currently lacked. If they operated normally and turned a profit, their estimated value would easily reach four hundred thousand dollars. A loan of three hundred thousand dollars was clearly within a reasonable range.
Even in the worst-case scenario of bankruptcy and liquidation, the combined value of the factories and equipment would still exceed two hundred thousand dollars.
"Mr. Land, your credentials are excellent," Johnny said.
"Given your strong profile, our bank is willing to offer the lowest interest rate—four percent. Would that be acceptable to you?"
In 1899, the United States was at the tail end of a long cycle of low nominal interest rates on high-grade bonds, with such bonds sitting at around three percent. A four percent loan rate was more than enough to demonstrate the Saint Denis Bank's sincerity.
This was also closely tied to the bank's board of directors. Quite a few board members were secretly Davey's partners in the bootlegging business. They knew exactly how profitable his operation was, so they had no concerns about recovering three hundred thousand dollars.
Even if all of these factories went bankrupt, Davey could still rely on the enormous profits from bootlegging to cover the loan.
Davey nodded. "That's an excellent rate. I have no objections at all, Mr. Johnny."
Johnny went on, "The three hundred thousand dollars will be repaid over five years, in sixty installments, starting from the second month after the loan is issued once you sign."
"The total monthly payment of principal and interest will be seven thousand five hundred fifty dollars and one cent."
Davey chuckled. "Mr. Johnny, your work really is meticulous."
He was clearly referring to that last single cent.
Johnny smiled awkwardly. "My apologies, Mr. Land. Bank policy."
Davey smiled, picked up his pen, and signed his name.
Borrowing three hundred thousand dollars at a four percent interest rate meant repaying a total of four hundred fifty-three thousand dollars over five years. The bank would earn one hundred fifty-three thousand dollars in interest alone.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Land."
"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Johnny."
Johnny was satisfied. At the very least, his personal performance targets were now met. As the president of the Saint Denis Bank, he was still just an employee subject to annual evaluations.
Davey was satisfied as well. Though the interest payments were substantial, three hundred thousand dollars would provide powerful support at this stage, allowing him to open more factories and expand on a larger scale.
Davey had long-term plans for these factories and wasn't worried about sales at all. His farms and ranches could supply raw materials to the canned food factory, leather factory, textile factory, and flour mill.
The furniture factory was already a hot business. The paper mill could produce low-cost paper, while the printing factory could secure orders from Hector Fellowes, the owner of the Saint Denis newspaper. After all, Davey was on good terms with Fellowes.
One of the reasons Davey wanted to establish paper and printing factories was also tied to his plan to open many elementary schools. Beyond the Land Elementary School in Valentine, he intended to build schools within his industrial park, providing convenience and educational benefits for workers' children.
By opening more factories, hiring more workers, and offering jobs to an increasing number of immigrants—along with benefits such as education—he would gradually form a true industrial sector, a cluster of factories.
At that point, Davey would control a vast workforce, a sizable voting bloc, and large volumes of tax revenue as a major taxpayer.
All of this would provide tremendous convenience for his future operations and his standing in the West.
...
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