The meeting with Mr. Tilford was scheduled at the headquarters of the Tilford Trading Company on Fifth Avenue. It was less a shop and more a small commercial palace, its gleaming marble floors and imposing Greek-style columns establishing the owner's significant status in New York City's business world.
Felix, accompanied by Catherine, was respectfully led into Mr. Tilford's private office.
"Mr. Argyle, Miss O'Brien, welcome." Tilford rose from behind his massive mahogany desk with a characteristic businessman's smile. "Your tasting event has been the most successful topic in New York's social circles these past few days. My customers are quite insistent that I secure your goods."
"It is my honor to receive your praise." Felix sat with a calm smile, while Catherine discreetly placed a folder on her lap.
"Truly a remarkable young man." Tilford sighed admiringly, then got straight to business. "I want the exclusive sales rights for your canned goods in Upper Manhattan. Name your price."
Felix smiled and shook his head. "No, Mr. Tilford. I cannot grant you exclusive sales rights for all our products."
Tilford's eyebrows rose, clearly surprised. "Why not, Mr. Argyle? Surely you know there's nothing our Parker & Tilford Trading Company can't sell."
"Precisely because of that, I have prepared a better cooperation plan, for both of us." Felix glanced at Catherine, who opened the folder and presented it.
"Mr. Tilford," Catherine explained clearly, "our company has segmented the market for our brand. Argyle canned goods will be divided into two product lines."
"The first is our widely popular Standard Red Label series, aimed at the broad middle class. It is excellent quality and affordable."
"The second is the Premium Gold Label series that we showcased at the tasting. It will use specially selected, exquisite beef shoulder, stewed with a small amount of French brandy, and packaged in exquisitely designed, gold-labeled cans. Production will be strictly controlled, never exceeding one-tenth of our total output."
Felix took over, locking eyes with Tilford. "Mr. Tilford, what I offer you is the exclusive sales authorization for this 'Premium Gold Label' line, for one year, across the entire Manhattan area."
"As for the 'Standard Red Label' series," Felix added, "I want it to appear in every corner of New York City, allowing all residents access to clean, delicious canned goods. I cannot lock down its distribution channels entirely."
Tilford fell into a long silence, scrutinizing the pair. He was stunned by this strategy of product grading and channel segmentation. It was a business approach entirely new to him, yet incredibly clever. The "premium version" satisfied the top company's need for exclusivity and high profit, while the high-volume "standard version" built national brand recognition.
"A brilliant concept," he praised in a low voice. He now genuinely regarded Felix as an equal. "Alright, Mr. Argyle. Since it's an exclusive high-end product, its profit must also be 'high-end.' Tell me about your financial proposal."
Catherine instantly rattled off the figures. "The production cost of the Premium Gold Label is higher. Therefore, the wholesale price we offer you is seventy cents, and the suggested retail price is one dollar per can. This ensures you have a sufficient profit margin while securing our company a modest net profit."
Tilford quickly accepted. He knew that with his network, he could sell the unique product at double the suggested price, earning more than Felix.
"I agree." He decisively extended his hand. "It's a pleasure working with you, Mr. Argyle. I hope to see the first batch of 'Gold Label' canned goods on my shelves within two days."
"You will see them." Felix shook his hand firmly.
Walking out of the Tilford Trading Company, Catherine's face was alight with joy. "Sir, we won the most crucial battle!"
But immense success brought immense pressure. Back at the factory, Catherine, after reviewing all the new letters of intent, reached a chilling conclusion within the hour.
"Sir, there's a problem." Her expression was grave. "Based on all new orders, our future monthly demand will reach at least sixty thousand cans. This means our daily output must immediately double to over three thousand cans just to meet the market."
"Three thousand cans?" Jones exclaimed. "With our current two shifts, we only make about fifteen hundred! We don't have enough equipment or staff!"
"What about raw materials?" Felix asked.
"The raw material problem is worse," Catherine worried. "I spoke with Mr. Bill. He said he and all the butchers he knows have scoured New York City for secondary cuts, and it's still not enough! If we want more meat, the price will increase by at least thirty percent!"
Insufficient production capacity and a raw material shortage, the two classic bottlenecks of rapid growth appeared simultaneously.
Felix, however, showed no panic. He walked to the wall map and, looking at the small confines of New York City, a confident smile appeared on his face. "Don't worry, this isn't a bad thing. This proves our company is growing wildly at a healthy pace. Now, it's time to water the soil."
He issued a series of clear, rapid commands.
"Jones, oversee the second phase of factory expansion. Find the city's best blacksmiths to forge twenty more copper pots and five foot-pedal canning machines. Double our production capacity within one month!"
"Catherine, you are responsible for recruitment and finance. Recruit thirty new workers and establish a small office team to assist you. All salary standards are according to company regulations."
"Miller, with expansion and increased staff, safety is paramount. Expand your security team and establish twenty-four-hour comprehensive patrols."
"Then, what about raw materials, sir?" Catherine asked.
"I will solve it." Felix's hand circled the area on the map encompassing New Jersey and Pennsylvania. "Since one New York City can no longer feed us, then I will turn the entire Greater New York City area into our ranch!"
His eyes gleamed with a confident, almost greedy light. "I want all butchers and ranchers to know that Argyle & Co. Foods is their biggest and most generous buyer. I want them to compete with each other to sell meat to us!"
Late that night, in the office, the kerosene lamp still burned brightly. Felix and Catherine intensely discussed the map. The blackboard was covered with numbers, with the term Raw Material Shortage circled three times in red chalk.
"Sir, the situation is even more severe," Catherine said seriously. "The three largest meat wholesalers have quoted prices fifteen to twenty percent higher than Bill's. They are colluding to squeeze our profit margin."
"They are colluding to strangle us," Felix confirmed calmly. "We became New York's largest beef buyer overnight, disrupting their years of unspoken understanding. They want to nip us in the bud."
"They control almost all the meat sources," Catherine worried. "If they don't agree, buying from further away would be even more costly."
"Exactly. So, we cannot play by their rules. We need to create a new rule," Felix declared, a shrewd glint flickering in his eyes. "We need to find a way to make Mr. Bill one of us."
"Building our own slaughtering department would give us control, but it would take three to six months to set up, and we can't wait," Catherine analyzed.
"Deep cooperation with Bill offers speed, but he remains an independent businessman. If a larger buyer tries to poach him with a higher price..."
"Then our plan must make it impossible for him to be poached, and make him not want to leave at all," Felix finished, a confident smile touching his lips. "I want him to earn more than ever before, and simultaneously turn him and me into a true community of shared interests."
"Catherine, help me draft a memorandum of cooperation for the establishment of a new company."
The next day, Felix brought the document to Bill's warehouse. Bill was furious over the joint price inflation.
"Felix, don't rush me! It's those damn wholesalers ganging up to make my life hell! At this rate, I'll have to close shop."
"Bill, I'm here for this very thing." Felix placed the document on the greasy table. "I've brought you something that can launch our counterattack. A proposal for the establishment of a new company: Metropolitan Meat United Company."
"Jointly establish a company?" Bill picked up the document, puzzled.
Felix elaborated on the investment. "Bill, all the tangible assets of your current butcher shop, the lease, equipment, tools, and your team of over twenty skilled butchers, will be injected into the new company. We'll appraise them at about two thousand dollars. That is your stake."
"And I will inject three thousand dollars in cash into this new company. This will serve as our startup capital and expansion fund." Bill's breathing quickened.
"The second point is equity. After the new company is established, I will own sixty percent of the shares, and you will own forty percent." Bill's eyes dimmed slightly, fearing loss of control.
Felix immediately presented the crucial point. "However, though I am the major shareholder, I will sign an irrevocable agreement ensuring that, as long as my interests are not infringed upon, you will have the right to manage and operate the company's daily affairs for the rest of your life. You, Bill, will be the true boss in charge."
Bill was completely confused. Felix was putting up the most cash, taking the majority stake, yet willingly giving up operational control. "Felix... what exactly do you want to do?"
"What I want is simple," Felix said with utmost sincerity. "Bill, I know how to can and sell, but I don't know how to deal with cunning farmers or manage a team of unruly butchers. Those are your specialties. If I, an amateur, were to direct an expert, this new company would fail."
"By giving up part of my voting rights, I tell you I absolutely trust your professional ability. I need a powerful ally who can hold the raw material front for me. I need you, like a true boss, to fight with full motivation for our common cause."
The words broke Bill's inner defenses. He felt a fierce, loyal respect.
"The third point is our cooperation model." Felix continued. "The Metropolitan Meat United Company will be the sole and exclusive raw material supplier for Argyle & Co. Foods for the next ten years. We will operate on a cost-plus pricing model, and I guarantee the company will always have a stable fifteen percent profit."
"Bill, calculate this carefully," Felix tempted. "You no longer worry about risk or catering to anyone. You will have three thousand dollars in cash to fight a price war. Behind you, my factory will be providing a massive, guaranteed lifeline. You will become New York's largest slaughterhouse owner, earning ten times more money than before, and you will still be the manager. Is there a better collaboration in this world?"
Bill knew there was none. Felix offered a path to the pinnacle of his career, with all his risks hedged by Felix's capital. He looked at the younger man with awe.
"Felix," Bill's voice was hoarse with excitement. "You are not a fierce tiger, you are Satan. A devil who makes people willingly sell their souls to him."
"No, Satan is what my enemies call me. For friends and allies, Bill, you should call me 'Hermes.'" Felix shook his hand firmly.
A powerful alliance, backed by Felix's capital and foresight and spearheaded by Bill's expertise, was thus born. While the old-guard wholesalers congratulated themselves on successfully curbing an emerging buyer by raising prices, they had no idea that a more hungry, more ferocious behemoth, armed with capital, had already sharpened its claws, ready to completely devour them.