"Your Highness, the cattle have been slaughtered…"
Across from a grand villa—or rather, a palace—in Dubai, a man dressed in black reported nervously to Du Famen.
"At last, the cattle." Du Famen exhaled heavily. His hand, holding a glass of red wine, trembled slightly before he steadied his breath. These cattle represented the culmination of his life's work. Their success—or failure—would determine his standing in the country. He didn't expect to become a sheikh, but he craved influence, real power.
"How did it go?" Du Famen asked, forcing composure. He took a slow sip of wine and set his eyes on the man before him.
Sensing his master's tension beneath the façade, the man in black answered quickly and clearly.
"This round, we slaughtered a total of 100,000 head of cattle—all carefully selected, large and healthy. The average slaughter rate came to 68%. The marbling rate reached 100%. And on average, 5.8% of the beef qualified as premium grade."
Hearing this, Du Famen finally breathed a sigh of relief. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
It wasn't surprise—he already knew this was possible. It was confirmation. They had done it. They had truly succeeded.
Unlike Jiang Hai, who raised Angus cattle, Du Famen raised massive breeds, each weighing close to a ton.
A one-ton cow, slaughtered at a 68% yield, produced 680 kilograms of beef. Out of that, 5.8%—about 40 kilograms—was premium beef. At $700 per kilogram, that single portion was worth $28,000.
Purchasing such a cow cost only $2,000. Adding labor brought the total to around $4,000, not counting fodder. Just the premium beef alone earned seven times the investment—before even considering the rest of the meat.
Du Famen's smile widened as he examined the report.
The breakdown read:
Slaughter rate: 68%
Premium beef: 5.8%
Select beef: 11.2%
Choice beef: 21.3%
Standard beef: 27.1%
Commercial beef: 17.9%
Utility beef: 13%
Ground beef: 8%
Canning beef: 2%
Injury rate: 0.13%
At current European wholesale prices, premium beef sold for $700/kg, select for $250/kg, choice for $100/kg, standard for $6/kg, commercial for $3/kg, and utility for $1/kg—ground and canning excluded.
That meant one cow yielded:
40 kg of premium ($28,000)
76 kg of select ($19,000)
145 kg of choice ($14,500)
184 kg of standard ($1,100)
122 kg of commercial ($366)
88 kg of utility ($88)
Altogether, a single cow was worth about $63,000 in meat alone.
Though far inferior to Jiang Hai's beef, this was still an astounding achievement.
And Du Famen had one million cattle. After setting aside 200,000 cows and calves, 800,000 remained. At $63,000 each, that totaled $50.4 billion.
Even deducting $400 million for Jiang Hai's fodder, the profit stood at around $50 billion—per year.
The thought made Du Famen's heart pound. His position within Dubai's royal family had always been awkward. His father had once been a contender for the throne, but in monarchies, failed princes usually faced grim outcomes. While they weren't executed, they were pushed to the margins.
His father managed a slice of the tourism industry—hardly profitable these past years. Du Famen himself had been left vulnerable, his position eyed by ambitious rivals.
But now everything had changed. With a venture yielding $50 billion annually, he would rise to the top ranks of the nation. He wouldn't instantly be welcomed into the inner circle of leadership, but no one could shake his standing again.
Elated, he immediately phoned Jiang Hai, expressing his excitement and promising to purchase all of Jiang Hai's forage grass. Jiang Hai, of course, didn't commit. The grass was already valuable, and he was considering raising prices. His words remained deliberately vague.
Du Famen didn't mind. The profits were so immense that Jiang Hai could easily charge more. After all, Jiang Hai had promised to focus on high-value grasses like royal clover and alfalfa. Even if the fodder cost doubled—from $400 million to $800 million—it would still be negligible against $50 billion in profit.
After exchanging pleasantries, the two agreed to meet at Jiang Hai's manor for further discussion.
When Du Famen hung up, he was euphoric. He would take this report straight to the royal family, shove it under the noses of those who coveted his seat, and declare: Du Famen is back.
Meanwhile, Jiang Hai, still busy abroad, looked at his companions already drifting to sleep. He smiled faintly at Pra Walton, who frowned at his pause.
"The war continues," he whispered.
As Du Famen prepared to flaunt his victory, a storm was already brewing in the global livestock industry.
Earlier, his men had distributed samples of Jiang Hai's forage grass to research institutions worldwide. While some samples were recovered, many weren't—particularly in Europe, the United States, Australia, Korea, and Japan.
Word spread fast. Even without official leaks, the slaughter of 100,000 cattle could not go unnoticed. Industry experts could easily estimate the figures.
Overnight, the truth was clear: Jiang Hai's forage grass worked—spectacularly so.
Cattle that once produced only a few thousand dollars' worth of beef were now worth over $60,000 each. Even if not quite that high, $50,000 was certain.
The profits were unimaginable. Thousands of percent in return. To the livestock world, Jiang Hai was a walking gold mine.
Research institutions, governments, corporations, and private investors all mobilized. Everyone wanted Jiang Hai's forage grass.
The global livestock industry was in upheaval. Only China remained in the dark. With no direct investment from Jiang Hai and no research samples at hand, the domestic industry was baffled while overseas markets roared with excitement.
Everywhere, people sought Jiang Hai—through cooperation, negotiation, even threats. But he remained elusive. His phone number was known only to a handful: his household staff, Qi Li, Pra Walton, and Du Famen. None of them would ever share it.
So, while the world hunted for him in desperation, Jiang Hai slept peacefully in his hotel room, arms draped around Pra Walton and Phil Fario.
Moses Adams, however, wasn't so lucky. As Jiang Hai's lawyer, his phone rang nonstop, bombarded by calls from every corner of the industry. And unlike his client, he couldn't simply switch it off. It was enough to drive him mad.
(To be continued…)