Mr. Fox has some reputation on this street. He belongs to the kind of people with "ability" who are willing to help the poor by lending them money to get through difficult times.
Of course, he is not purely a good person; he also expects the poor to repay him with kindness, perhaps with returns that may be more than the principal.
But overall, he is a good person, maybe, perhaps, probably.
In an underground office, Simon met Mr. Fox, a gentleman who looked to be around thirty-six or thirty-nine, in his forties. He was dressed in the most popular deep gray suit with red and blue dots this year. The collar was tied with a red and blue silk scarf, not so formal but very elegant.
Before Simon arrived, Mr. Fox had heard from his subordinates about the unusual aspects of this young man, such as the words he had said before, which made him curious.
"Aren't you afraid of me?" he had his men press Simon into the chair opposite the desk, "Rarely does anyone on this street not fear me."
Simon showed no fear at all. This scene could only be considered a small matter. He shrugged and asked, "Mr. Fox, are you going to harm me?"
This question caught Mr. Fox off guard. He thought about it seriously, then shook his head, "I generally won't actively harm anyone, but if you do something unfriendly first..."
For anyone, purposelessly harming others is a foolish thing. It not only tarnishes one's image but also attracts the attention of the investigative bureau due to such aimless actions.
Most people are looking for money; they don't want trouble, and Mr. Fox is no exception.
"That's right, so why should I be afraid?" Simon's calm demeanor and smile made Mr. Fox feel a bit uneasy. The feeling was like... he didn't know how to describe it, as if he was being cared for.
"It's like this, Mr. Fox. I've noticed the business of the laundry and some of your minor troubles. Plus, I believe you've investigated me and know the issues I'm facing now..."
Mr. Fox emphasized, "Poverty!"
Simon pointed to the ceiling, using a subtle gesture to attract Mr. Fox's attention and regain control of the conversation, "You're right. So, I need to quickly get rid of my financial crisis. I want to do some business with you."
In the blink of an eye, everyone in the office burst into laughter—Mr. Fox, his assistant, and two intimidating men, all laughing heartily.
Simon, without embarrassment, looked at Mr. Fox. When they had laughed for about thirty seconds, he stopped them and asked, "This is not a joke."
Mr. Fox laughed again. As he laughed, he asked, "But I don't think there's any business between us..." His laughter naturally stopped as he frowned. "Are you asking for a loan?"
Simon shook his head, "No, business, Mr. Fox!"
Mr. Fox laughed enough, and the innate curiosity and desire for knowledge in humans made him continue the conversation. At least until he knew the answer or lost interest, he wouldn't stop this interesting dialogue.
"So, what business do you want to do with me?"
Simon, as always, exuded confidence and a sunny smile that easily won people's favor. "I can provide you with more small change—nickels, dimes, quarters, and half-dollars, all in coins, old and new..."
Mr. Fox's face suddenly changed. In his slightly narrowed eyes, there was something chilling. If one had to interpret this gaze, it was definitely a hint of killing intent.
"Do you know what I'm doing?" He couldn't help taking out a cigarette and lighting it. "You have great courage."
Simon remained undaunted, "I'm not afraid of poverty; would I be afraid of anything else?"
The two stared at each other for a moment, and it seemed that this guy named Simon was indeed a bold person. At the same time, his words made Mr. Fox start to be genuinely interested.
In some industries, there are gray areas. For example, the financial company he is running is not entirely legal. Not only is the investigative bureau keeping an eye on him, but the federal tax bureau is also watching.
He needs to rationalize and legalize the money in his hands through some channels, but he can't attract too much attention. The laundry is an excellent channel.
No one cares where each coin comes from, and they also don't know where those coins come from. In the entire Bailer Federation, almost all laundries are controlled by these people.
But they also face a problem—they are too slow!
The middle class and the upper class have their own washing machines; they don't need to send their clothes to the street to be washed. Only the poor would do that.
However, the poor often accumulate a week's worth of clothes before coming to wash, and they have to wash all of them at once. For this reason, people like Mr. Fox have specially created a new charging standard—charging by the pound. But this is still insignificant.
You can't force everyone to come and wash clothes every day; doing so will only attract the attention of the investigative bureau and the federal tax bureau, which is Mr. Fox's biggest pain point.
Clearly, the safe is full of money, but he can't take it out. That feeling is simply miserable!
Now, the bastard in front of him claims to solve this problem, suddenly making Mr. Fox somewhat interested. "How do you plan to do it?"
Simon didn't immediately negotiate the price with him but raised a new question, "Mr. Fox, do you have a 'Transaction Report' here?"
The "Transaction Report" is one of the largest-circulation newspapers issued by the Bailer Federation. It covers all seventeen states of the federation and all regions, mainly focusing on national and international financial trends, as well as local financial changes.
In a series of "confrontations," Mr. Fox gradually lost the initiative. He glanced at his assistant, and the assistant nodded, indicating that there was one.
Although their business is not so proper, their work is indeed closely related to finance.
"Give me an early one and a latest one. I will make you understand who the real winner of our transaction is!"
Simon's firm and confident voice, along with his confident expression, made Mr. Fox feel once again that strange and unexplainable feeling of being cared for. It was like when Simon held a microphone and spoke in front of a large crowd.
People looked at him, believed what he said, put money into his pocket, and thanked him!