1860s American Tycoon

Jones cleared his throat and opened the ledger in front of him, which was as thick as a brick.

As the Argyle Family's first company and the veteran business providing the foundation of its cash flow, the Food Company's profits had always been very stable.

"Boss, everyone. In 1871, the Argyle Food Company's flour mills, canneries, and meat processing plants in Chicago were all running at full capacity across the country."

Jones then reeled off a string of figures.

"The total annual operating revenue reached 21 million dollars."

This figure startled several of the new general managers who had just joined the committee.

Just selling canned goods and processed flour products resulted in such terrifying revenue.

"However..." Jones shifted his tone.

"Because the company acquired three large farms in the Midwest this year and expanded the cold chain warehouses in Chicago, plus the rise in raw material prices, total expenditures were 14 million dollars. Therefore, the final calculated profit is 7 million dollars."

Felix nodded.

Seven million was within his expectations.

"Catherine, what about your side?"

Catherine closed her notebook.

"The Umbrella Pharmaceutical Company's main products this year were still the anti-inflammatory agent Iodine Glycerin and battlefield first aid kits. Military orders accounted for 40% of our revenue. In addition, the civilian painkiller we developed last year sold very well on the East Coast. The company's total annual revenue was 16 million dollars. After deducting the R&D funds and construction costs for the two new laboratories we built in Europe, the profit is 5.5 million dollars."

Following that, each president took turns reporting.

"Lex Steel."

William Coleman said in a muffled voice.

"The steel furnaces in Pittsburgh didn't stop firing all year. The demand for steel from the Railway Company and the military industry is simply a bottomless pit. Revenue was 28 million dollars. But that madman Carnegie installed six new open-hearth furnaces at once this year, so expenses were a bit high. The profit is only 4 million dollars."

"As for the Mississippi and Eastern Railroad." Charles Reeves pushed up his glasses.

"Our branch lines in the South are all fully operational. Freight and passenger revenue have skyrocketed. Total revenue was 32 million dollars. After deducting railway maintenance, locomotive procurement, and interest payments on bank loans, the profit is approximately 6.2 million dollars."

Felix nodded with satisfaction and looked at Miller.

"Hmm, not bad. Miller, what about your side?"

"Boss. Vanguard Military Industry and Cygnus Mining, combined..."

Miller glanced at Frank, who had just taken over.

"The profit is 5.8 million dollars, mainly because the exploration costs in the western mining areas were too high."

Finally, everyone's gaze focused on George Templeton and Tom Hayes.

These were the dual financial cores of the family.

George stroked the beard on his chin, his face showing a hint of undisguisable pride.

"The Imperial Bank's deposit-taking business ranked first in America this year, but the bank's real profit comes from lending and foreign exchange. I won't report the total revenue because the capital flow is too massive. After deducting the interest paid to depositors and operating costs, the profit the Imperial Bank contributed to the family this year is 12 million dollars."

Tom Hayes followed immediately.

"The Patriot Investment Company shorted several railway stocks on Wall Street this year and made some quick money. Coupled with the return on the early investment in Rockefeller's oil project in Texas, the profit is 8 million dollars."

Next, Frost, as the Secretary-General, performed the final summary and calculation of all the companies' accounts.

In the entire conference room, only the rustling sound of pens quickly scratching across paper could be heard.

Everyone was silently calculating that final number in their hearts.

Five minutes later, Frost stood up straight.

"Boss. For the 1871 fiscal year, the total profit for all industries under the Argyle Family is: 48.5 million dollars."

Once this number was announced, even these tycoons who were used to seeing big scenes couldn't help but feel a bit short of breath.

Nearly 50 million dollars in profit!

This figure even exceeded the total annual fiscal revenue of several small European countries.

But Frost did not stop.

"But please note, this is the aggregate of the individual profits of each company, without accounting for total expenditures. According to the family's capital allocation plan, this year, we injected 12 million into the General Electric municipal power grid project. We injected 6 million into the expansion of Standard Oil's refineries. The financial strangulation and intelligence operations against Old Morgan in London cost 5 million. Plus the operation of the charitable foundation and the startup capital for various newly established companies."

"After deducting all the family's strategic expansion expenditures for this year, internal allocations, and your personal withdrawals, the total net annual profit finally remaining in the Imperial Bank's vault for the Argyle Family in 1871 is approximately 11.3 million dollars."

The conference room was quiet for a moment.

George Templeton frowned.

"Over 11 million, which is nearly 2 million dollars less than last year. Boss, has our speed of making money slowed down this year?"

Felix, sitting at the head of the table, suddenly chuckled.

"Less by 2 million? George. You only saw the 2 million dollars less in cash on the books, but you didn't see the empires we hammered out on the ground."

Felix stood up and walked to the huge map of America in the conference room.

He picked up a pointer and tapped heavily on Pittsburgh, Texas, and Chicago on the map.

"We poured money into steel furnaces, we poured money into oil wells, and we poured money into power grids. This money didn't disappear; it turned into an indestructible barrier beneath our feet! Why did Old Morgan lose? Because his business was built on sand, relying entirely on financial leverage! But our empire is cast from steel, oil, and railways!"

Felix turned around, his gaze sharp as a knife.

"The family's domestic layout is basically complete; you won't need to pour so much money into infrastructure next year. Profits will naturally grow. However..."

Then, Felix pointed his pointer to the edge of the map, where the vast Pacific Ocean lay.

"As for the Metropolitan Trading Company, Bill."

Bill immediately stood up straight.

"Didn't O'Neill in Asia send back news earlier that the Qing Empire's Self-Strengthening Movement is underway? And the nation of Japan is also doing that thing called the Meiji Restoration. They are frantically buying machinery, steel, and weapons."

"That is a virgin land even larger than America."

Felix threw the pointer onto the table.

"In 1871, we won the aftermath of the internal business war and crushed the bug from London. The 11 million in net profit is just an appetizer."

Felix pressed his hands on the table.

"Gentlemen. Go back and sharpen your teeth. In 1872, I want the Argyle Family's merchant ships to fill every port in Asia. I want every gold coin in this world to be engraved with the family's name."

Upon hearing that Felix intended to expand into Asia, the executives, who had just been excited about the tens of millions of dollars in net profit, now wore expressions of varying degrees of solemnity.

Bill, President of the Metropolitan Trading Company, was the first to break the silence. He placed the unlit cigar he had been holding onto the table.

"Boss, expansion is inevitable. But Asia..." Bill shook his head.

"That is not an ownerless wasteland; it is a private plot surrounded by barbed wire. The British, the French, the Dutch—their warships have been patrolling those waters for half a century. We can call the wind and summon the rain in America, but once we get over there, they set the rules."

George Templeton, President of the Argyle Empire Bank, immediately picked up the conversation.

"Bill is right. When I deal with those bankers in London, I hear too much about the rules of Far East trade. Those great powers implement extremely harsh trade protectionism in their respective colonies. From port docking fees to customs duties, everything is a barrier against external capital. If our merchant ships sail into British India or French Cochinchina, they have a hundred legal ways to detain our cargo or impose exorbitantly high punitive tariffs. This is equivalent to throwing money into the Atlantic Ocean."

Tom Hayes of the Patriot Investment Company also frowned in agreement.

"Capital is most averse to risk, Boss. We throw money around at home because we can control Senators and Governors. But in Mumbai or Saigon, we can't even find a sheriff who will listen to us. The colonial governors there have absolute power of life and death. If the Argyle Family business rashly intervenes in those colonial trades, it will easily be jointly strangled by local European capital. The losses would be astronomical."

Although the other general managers did not speak, the looks they exchanged clearly showed they agreed with the views of these three. The world landscape in 1871 was extremely clear; European powers were the absolute masters of those colonies, and in their eyes, American capital was nothing more than a newly rich bumpkin.

Felix sat at the head of the table, listening quietly to their concerns without interrupting or getting angry. He picked up a match and leisurely relit his nearly extinguished cigar.

Blue-gray smoke dispersed in the air.

"Are you finished?"

Felix, with the cigar in his mouth, swept his gaze across the long table.

"Your concerns are reasonable, which shows you have been thinking seriously."

Bill spread his hands.

"Boss, it's not that we are cowardly. It's that the math doesn't add up. If a ship of cotton cloth or steel is transported over, and it gets detained by customs for three months, the storage fees alone could turn this business into a liability. Those great powers are not like the politicians in Washington who do things for money; they want monopoly. The incident with O'Neill and the Qing Empire was just an accident."

"I certainly know they are not easy to deal with." Felix flicked the ash.

"I have never expected those vampires in Europe to voluntarily open their doors to us, but your thinking has fallen into chaos. Who told you that to do business in Asia, you must force your way into those colonies flying the Union Jack or the Tricolor?"

Felix looked toward Frank Cole, President of the Vanguard Military Industry, sitting on the other side.

"Frank, O'Neill led a team to the Qing Empire once. Have you checked that trade archive record?"

Frank nodded immediately.

"I have, Boss. That was a very lucrative transaction. Mr. O'Neill brought several ships of obsolete, replaced smoothbore muskets and some cotton textiles, and docked at the ports of the Qing Empire. The local officials were very interested in our weapons; they urgently needed these things to suppress internal rebellions. From that transaction, we brought back a large amount of silver, raw silk, and porcelain, with a profit margin exceeding three hundred percent."

Felix tapped on the table, drawing everyone's attention back.

"This is the first path I want to talk about." Felix looked at Bill.

"We can completely avoid the colonies that have been thoroughly picked clean by the great powers for the time being. Focus our attention on those countries that still currently possess nominal sovereignty. The Qing Empire, and Japan."

Felix stood up and walked to the map.

"Although these countries are old and rigid, they now all have one thing in common: panic. The Europeans' cannons have woken them up. Japan is carrying out the Meiji Restoration, and the Qing Dynasty is carrying out the Westernization Movement. What do they need? They need new rifles, they need steel smelting furnaces, they need railways and telegraph machines! And all of these, we have."

Felix turned around and stared at his executives.

"They are independent sovereign states and have the power to buy things themselves. We don't need to look at the British Governor's face; we just need to find the powerful figures within these countries. Give them kickbacks and shares, and turn them into our agents on the ground. As long as we handle a few dozen key officials, the market doors of the entire country will open to Argyle. This is how the sovereign market game is played."

Bill stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"This sounds feasible. As long as we avoid the direct military jurisdictions of the great powers and tie the local bureaucrats with interests. We do exactly this domestically."

"But, Boss." George Templeton still had concerns.

"Asia is too big. If we only do the Qing Empire and Japan, we will still lose a large part of the market. India's cotton and spices, Southeast Asia's rubber. These are all in the colonies of the great powers. Are we just going to watch these profits?"

Felix smiled and walked back to his seat to sit down.

"When did I ever say I wanted to give up on the colonies? If we can't force our way in, can't we borrow a layer of skin?"

Everyone pricked up their ears.

"You have stayed in Europe, so you should know the current state of European society." Felix crossed his fingers.

"Paris and London have a large number of nobles. They possess illustrious surnames, and their ancestors may have fought alongside kings. They have seats in the House of Lords and connections in the Colonial Office. But they have no money."

Felix's eyes became cold and sharp.

"The Industrial Revolution has pushed those traditional nobles who only rely on collecting land rent to the brink of bankruptcy. They live in leaky castles, wear patched silk shirts, yet still have to maintain aristocratic decency. These people are our best stepping stone."

George Templeton's eyes lit up instantly. He was a veteran banker and understood the crux of the matter as soon as he heard it.

"Boss, do you mean we provide the money, and they provide the face?"

"Exactly." Felix snapped his fingers.

"We register shell companies in London or Paris and let those dukes or earls who are so poor they only have their titles left serve as the chairmen of the companies. Give them a decent annual salary and give them a five percent dividend. Legally and nominally, this company will be a one-hundred-percent local European company."

Felix looked at Bill.

"Then, the Metropolitan Trading Company's ships will hoist the flags of these European companies and sail into Indian ports. Do you think the local customs officials would dare to seize the cargo of a company under the name of a hereditary Earl of the British Empire? Would those colonial governors offend a noble with a huge network of connections in London's high society just to protect the interests of local merchants?"

"Furthermore, we also have agreements with France; French colonies such as Cochinchina (Southern Cochinchina, now southern Vietnam) and Cambodia are originally places we can go."

A moment later, Bill slapped his thigh, and an expletive burst out directly.

"Damn it! This is simply a genius idea. Use dollars to buy their blue blood. Let them get the cash to maintain their decency, and we get unimpeded trade privileges. Each gets what they need."

Felix smiled dashingly.

"This is called the upgraded version of toll money."

"In the past, we paid the robbers at the crossroads. Now, we directly hire the robbers' boss to drive the carriage for us."

"Regarding the colonies, Bill and George, you two are responsible for coordination. Bill is responsible for shipping routes and cargo, and George is responsible for going to Europe to scout for those bankrupt nobles." Felix began issuing instructions.

"I want to see the first batch of merchant ships bearing noble signs leaving New York Harbor by next spring."

"Understood, Boss. I will personally go to London to select the hardest nuts who are most in need of money."

George adjusted his tie, looking full of energy.

Felix nodded with satisfaction.

He picked up another blank document placed at the corner of the table and tapped on it with his fountain pen.

"The strategic direction for Asia has been decided. Now, back to our base camp."

Felix's gaze swept over everyone present.

"The Argyle Family never takes things one step at a time. For the past few years, we have been laying the foundation, and now the foundation has been laid firmly. The next step is to build high-rise buildings. From today on, the Executive Committee must establish a new system."

Felix paused for a moment.

"A Five-Year Plan."

"I don't want to just hear your profit forecasts for next year. I want to know what the industries you each manage will look like in five years. Jones, starting with you. Get all those ideas in your head about the Food Company out for me."