September 1, Early Morning...
In Newark, at the entrance of a bar, Sean led Jonas through the door and into the bustling interior.
They navigated through the crowd until they reached the bar. Sean took a glance at the wine rack behind the counter. Before the bartender could speak, Sean said, "I'm looking for your boss."
The bartender frowned, sizing Sean up. "Our boss? Who do you think you are?"
Sean smiled and remained silent as Jonas emotionlessly removed his jacket, revealing a holster at his waist.
Seeing this, the bartender ceased his mockery and walked over to a large, intimidating man. He pointed at Sean and exchanged a few words. The burly man approached with a fierce expression.
"Making trouble here is courting death," he warned.
"Relax, I'm just here to discuss a profitable business opportunity with your boss. It's best to inform him first. No one can resist Franklin's charm, right?" Sean replied with a grin, pulling out a bill featuring Franklin's image.
"Okay, wait a minute," the burly man said before heading to the corner of the bar.
After a short while, someone gestured for the two of them to follow. When they reached the corner, Sean spotted a woman with an ample figure sitting behind a curtain of colorful glass beads.
Someone spoke to her, and a bald man with a thick gold necklace poked his head out, reaching out to grab the woman's waist.
Startled, the woman stood up, adjusting her clothing as she caught sight of Sean. She momentarily froze before exclaiming in surprise; this fair-skinned man was undeniably more appealing than the bulky patrons.
The burly man had just approached Sean when he called out, "Hey, Dart, this is your territory. Are you worried about what I might do?"
"Let this guy in," Dart ordered loudly.
Jonas was stopped outside, while Sean walked over and took a seat next to Dart, the hefty man whose arms were covered in tattoos.
"Kid, you better have a lucrative proposal," Dart warned, his tone threatening.
"Thanks for the compliment," Sean replied with a smile. He gestured toward a bottle of Camus Golden Flower brandy on the table. "I'm curious, how much do you make off a bottle like this? I'm guessing it's not less than $60."
"What's your point?" Dart frowned, puzzled.
"I'm saying this wine goes for $45."
"You're kidding me!" Dart leaned in, glaring at Sean. "You think I'm going to chase after a measly ten dollars?"
Sean maintained his composure and continued, "I can supply four different types of this quality wine, all commonly used in bars. In your establishment, you're likely consuming at least 30 bottles daily, which adds up to around 1,000 bottles monthly. With a 25% discount, you'd pocket an extra $15,000 to $20,000 each month. It's a no-risk deal."
Dart blinked, tempted by the prospect of $20,000, but uncertain if Sean's claims were valid.
Calculating profits was never easy for him, and sales figures were not something he grasped well. Dart was intrigued, however; his bar barely broke even.
For him, the bar was more than just a business—it was a stronghold and a convenient front for drug sales. Even if the police raided, the bustling environment offered a chance to escape and destroy evidence.
Yet, extra cash was always welcome.
After deducting expenses, Dart typically saw only $30,000 to $40,000 a month, never exceeding $50,000. His territory was small, and his primary income came from drugs, with no independent purchasing options leading to inflated costs.
Moreover, many of his crew were more trouble than they were worth, contributing little but consuming resources.
"Tell me how I can earn that extra $20,000!" Dart urged, inching closer to Sean, his smile revealing gleaming white teeth.
"Do you know how many bottles of premium wine your bar consumes daily? Brandy, whiskey, gin, rum...?" Sean asked, grinning.
"Uh…" Dart scratched his head and called out to the exterior. Soon, a thin white man with a vacant expression entered.
"Richard, how much premium wine does the bar drink every day?" Dart inquired.
Richard looked confused, unsure of how to answer.
Sean stepped in, reassuring Dart as he asked Richard, "Can you tell us how many bottles priced over $40 are consumed in a month?"
Richard glanced at Dart, who nodded in response. "I need to see the ledger," Richard said. Dart waved him off, and Richard walked out.
Richard manages all the business accounts, and Dart felt a sense of relief—not because of Richard's loyalty, but because, as a white man, Richard was unlikely to incite rebellion among the predominantly Black workforce. While chimpanzees may not be particularly intelligent, their territorial instincts are quite strong.
Moments later, Dart returned with the ledger. Sean picked up a paper, pen, and calculator, ready to give Dart a lesson in financial basics. "What is estimation? What is average? What's the daily and monthly average?" Sean explained, working through the calculations. He revealed that if the purchase price were reduced by 25%, Dart could save over $16,000 each month.
"Isn't paying less the same as making money?" Sean asked, a bright smile lighting up his face.
Dart scratched his head, feeling embarrassed. Although the calculations were simple—addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division—he still found himself confused and needed time to process it all.
Dart looked up at Richard, who met Sean's gaze. Sean smiled warmly, and after a moment, Richard nodded in agreement. "Yes, Boss Dart, he's right."
Yet, an unspoken question lingered between them: if reducing costs by 25% could increase profits by $16,000, then the bar should be making $110,000 if alcohol sales were three times that amount. Why, then, were they still struggling?
Sean was not concerned with the answer, and Richard couldn't voice it. The world of business isn't just about conflict; it also involves understanding the complexities of human relationships. Even those in the underworld are polite to someone who can help them profit.
Dart bluntly asked Sean which gang he belonged to, as there were few legitimate companies in the industry. Sean replied with a mysterious smile, "That's not important. What matters is making money."
After agreeing to purchase a batch of 300 bottles as a trial, Sean smiled and bid Dart farewell. The first business deal was secured, and Sean and his partner left the bar, heading straight to the next gang's location, completely disregarding the followers Dart had sent after them.
"What I do is serious business—aboveboard," Sean said with a toughness that left no room for doubt.