Along the East River in New York.
Argyle & Co. Foods's massive new factory had become an existence that filled all its competitors with despair.
Especially after the "Argyle Manufacturing Plant," with its three complete production lines, officially commenced operations.
The atmosphere in the office during the morning meeting was completely different from the tense, crisis-ridden mood of half a month ago.
Now, it was a sweet kind of trouble, born from excessive success.
"Boss."
Production Manager Jones placed two separate production reports in front of Felix.
His tone was filled with reverence.
"After resolving the can supply issue, the food factory can now produce at full speed without any restraint. Our current daily output is stable at 25,000 cans. This fully meets all the demands of both the military and civilian markets."
He paused, then pointed to the other report.
"And on the can manufacturing side..."
His voice became a little strange.
"Boss, that steam engine you designed is a devil. Three production lines, running 24 hours a day. We can produce over 50,000 qualified tin cans every day."
He looked at Felix, who spread his hands, an innocent expression on his face.
"Which means, Boss, every day we produce over 25,000 empty cans, and then they pile up in the warehouse with nothing to do. Catherine said our warehouse will be completely filled with these empty cans by next week."
Everyone in the office laughed.
"A happy problem, isn't it?"
Felix also had a smile on his face.
"Yes, Boss."
Catherine nodded, but there was no smile on her face.
"But it is still a business problem that needs to be solved. Idle capacity equals lost profit. We are paying workers' salaries and machine wear and tear for those empty cans piled up in the warehouse."
"You're right, Catherine." Felix's smile faded.
"An idle machine is a sin in my factory. So, we must find a new job for it that can create value for us."
Felix stood up and walked to the blackboard.
"I've already thought about this problem. The manufacturing plant will no longer be just a food company that produces its own packaging. By opening up the surplus manufacturing capacity to external clients, we will enter a completely new market."
"All businesses in New York that require tin box packaging will become potential customers for our market."
He looked at his core team.
"Catherine."
"Here, Boss."
"I need a list. All the sizable tobacco companies, biscuit manufacturers, candy factories, and those patent medicine merchants selling various so-called 'ancestral secret formulas' in New York. I want to know who their current packaging suppliers are. What is the price they pay for tin boxes? Jones."
"Here!"
"You and Smith immediately make some minor modifications to our can-making machine molds. Make it capable of producing not only round cans, but also square, flat, and various other shapes of tin boxes."
"Miller."
"Here."
"Go investigate some of the daily habits of these potential customers. Their preferences, clubs they frequent, and so on."
Felix once again wound the clock, bringing the team, who had been caught in sweet trouble, back to high-intensity work.
Three days later, Felix and Catherine, riding in a luxurious four-wheeled carriage symbolizing top status, stopped in front of the magnificent headquarters building of the American Biscuit Guild, located near Wall Street.
"Mr. Argyle."
The chairman of the Biscuit Guild, Mr. Davidson, a corpulent, shrewd businessman who looked like a Maitreya Buddha, warmly received Felix in his office.
"How is it that you, the king of the canning industry, have time to visit our little pastry-making establishment today?"
"Mr. Davidson, you are too modest."
"Your biscuits are a must-have for every New York family's afternoon tea. I'm here today to talk to you about the topic of safety."
"Safety?"
"Yes."
Felix placed a beautifully printed tin box, produced by his can factory, in front of Davidson.
Then he placed a traditional lead-soldered tin box, bought from the market and containing Davidson's company's biscuits, next to it.
"Mr. Davidson, please look."
He pointed to the old tin box, to that rough, gray solder seam.
"Do you know what this solder seam contains?"
Hearing this, Davidson said indifferently, "Tin? Or lead? I know, there were even newspaper reports about it before."
"But aren't all tin boxes made this way? Oh, except for your cans."
In fact, these large companies that required tin can packaging had considered using imitations from small workshops.
But after consideration, they gave up. Firstly, because their products were not like canned goods with liquid inside, which could be easily contaminated.
Secondly, the speed at which small workshops produced tin boxes simply couldn't keep up with their production speed.
Finally, they considered that it wasn't worth offending Felix, a wealthy newcomer with patents and military backing, over this matter.
Felix looked at him meaningfully, then said with a strange tone.
"Yes."
"You also know how our Argyle & Co. Foods, through a newspaper campaign about the 'dangers of lead poisoning,' made all the housewives in New York revere my little shield logo."
Davidson's smile instantly froze. This sounded a little off, like mockery, but also with a subtle threat. What was going on?
The two sides didn't seem to have much in common.
"You..."
Felix raised his hand to stop the other party's outstretched finger, saying with a smile.
"Hey... let me finish, Mr. Davidson."
"I didn't come to mock you. After all, I'm not that idle, am I?"
Confirming that Felix wasn't there to cause trouble, Davidson quickly calmed his emotions, but his expression was still not very good.
He felt as if he was being manipulated by Felix, completely following the other's rhythm, so he said grumpily.
"Then Mr. Argyle, what exactly do you want from me? I thought there shouldn't be any overlap between us."
Seeing that the other party's emotions had calmed, Felix didn't mind his tone and pushed a brand new, integrally formed lead-free tin box across the table.
"Of course, I'm here to offer you a better choice. Perhaps you don't know yet, but my company now owns the only production line in all of America that can produce these completely lead-free, safe tin boxes."
"The integral molding makes its appearance more exquisite and its sealing better."
"Most importantly, I am preparing to enter the metal manufacturing industry, so I will sell these tin cans."
"It can connect your brand with safety and health, which are currently the most expensive words in New York."
"I can provide your guild with this superior new type of tin box. And its price..."
Felix looked at him and stated a figure he couldn't refuse.
"It will be two cents more expensive than the highly toxic old-fashioned tin boxes you currently purchase, making it ten cents each."
Better product, lower price.
And a benevolent "reminder" from a market newcomer.
Davidson, an old fox who had been in the business world for half his life, knew he had no other choice.
After all, even if he didn't agree, the people in the association wouldn't refuse such a good deal.
If he agreed, he could take credit in front of the members, and the association was due for an election soon.
Although Davidson had already agreed in his heart, as a businessman, he wouldn't let Felix see it.
So Davidson put on a surprised expression.
"Oh my God, Mr. Argyle, your price is too expensive. This will lead to an increase in our costs. You know our biscuits don't have as much profit as your canned goods. No, no, this is too uneconomical. The people in the association will tear me apart. How about you lower your price a bit, eight cents?"
Felix watched his performance with a calm smile. They were all ancient foxes; why pretend to be from 'Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio'?
Ah? You're saying this is an American/European channel? Then they're all ancient vampires, why pretend to be from 'Twilight'?
"Mr. Davidson, we are all sensible people, so let's not play these little tricks. Ten cents, do you agree?"
Seeing that Felix was completely unaffected, even with a hint of teasing on his face, Davidson realized that the other party's success was not due to luck.
So he dropped his exaggerated act, stood up with a smile, and extended his hand to Felix.
"Ha, I apologize... for making a fool of myself, Mr. Argyle. I must admit, you are the most excellent, and also the most... formidable salesman I have ever met."
"I agree to ten cents. Happy to cooperate."
When Felix and Catherine walked out of the building, Catherine said with emotion.
"Felix, it's incredible, we just effortlessly opened up a whole new business."
"No, Catherine."
"In the Federation, most of the time it comes down to money and strength. With these two, it's easy to reach a cooperation. Besides, this is beneficial to them and harmless."
Catherine nodded knowingly. "I understand, Felix, you are truly amazing. You can see the essence of everything."
Felix gently tapped her little head.
"Stop flattering me. Remember my words, the future of the company will always be only one thing."
He looked at the towering chimney of his factory in the distance.
"That is to use the most advanced technology to produce, create, and occupy. In a way that all competitors cannot understand or imitate."
Felix got into the carriage and waved to Catherine, "Come on, let's go back to the company."
"Ah? Aren't we going to the remaining associations and companies?"
Catherine asked, a little confused, after getting into the carriage.
Playing with his tender, soft hand, Felix was a little annoyed.
"Oh, come on, darling, if I have to do everything, then why did I even set up a sales department!"
Felix personally took the lead today just to pave the way and spread the word. If he had to go to each company individually, wouldn't his employees be for nothing?
After returning to the company, Catherine placed a previously drafted document on Felix's desk.
"Boss, the company's sales department has been established."
"Oh?" Felix picked up the document, surprised by the efficiency.
"Following your instructions, we'll start with the tin cans for practice," Catherine reported.
"From the office, I selected three young people who are quick-witted, bold, and thick-skinned. I plan to officially transfer them to the sales department to become the company's first batch of sales representatives."
"Their task is also very simple."
"They will take samples of the tin boxes produced by our can factory, which are far superior in quality to market standards, along with a highly competitive price list, and knock on the doors of the tobacco merchants, biscuit merchants, and candy merchants you previously identified."
After Catherine finished reporting on the sales department, she looked a bit hesitant.
"Originally, I devised a brand-new compensation system for them. Besides a fixed base salary, they would receive a personal commission of one percent of the total amount for every contract they signed, but it now seems the idea isn't mature enough."
"Is it because our morning went too smoothly?"
Felix looked at her with amusement, realizing she felt that these products would be eagerly sought after, so there was no need to give away money.
"Yes, Boss, because I think even if they don't go out to sell, those companies will come to us once they hear the news."
Felix agreed with her, but also thought the salesperson compensation system was good, so he changed his approach to ensure Catherine's efforts weren't wasted.
"It's good that you think that way, and don't be disappointed; this plan is fine. When they go to other parts of the Federation to promote the company's products, we can implement the new system."
"Feed the wolves with profit, and they will tear off the fattest prey for us.
You will be fully responsible for this matter.
Let them practice with tin cans first, after all, we need a professional commercial ground force."
"Understood, Boss."
"Since the sales matters are settled."
"Now, it's time to see how our 'Air Force' is preparing."
The "Air Force" Felix referred to was, of course, the mysterious R&D department led by Dr. Aris Thorne.
Felix brought Catherine, for the first time, to inspect.
They entered the independent annex building, which was under 24-hour strict guard by Miller's security team.
In the laboratory, there was no factory workshop noise.
Only the occasional crisp sound of glassware clinking, and a complex chemical smell that outsiders would find unbearable, but Dr. Thorne savored.
Dr. Thorne, wearing a white lab coat, was stroking a brand-new Zeiss microscope, just arrived from Prussia, like a child obsessed with his new toy.
"Boss, Miss Catherine."
Hearing the sound, he saw the two of them and snapped out of his scientific world.
His eyes were filled with unprecedented satisfaction and passion.
"Look! Come quickly and look! This... this is simply the eye God uses to observe the world! Its precision is so marvelous!"
"I'm glad you like your new toy, Doctor."
Felix smiled and patted his arm, signaling him not to be so agitated.
"So, Doctor, what about that more practical little task I gave you? The Federation's army is still waiting for their canned fruit."
"Ah, yes, fruit!"
Dr. Thorne, reminded by Felix, then recalled his "main job."
He excitedly led the two to another part of the laboratory.
It was filled with various fruit samples, sealed in glass bottles and of different colors.
"This is a fascinating subject, much more complex than I imagined."
Dr. Thorne's tone was filled with a scientist's fervor.
"I found that the core of the problem isn't high temperature! It's oxygen!"
"Oxygen?"
"Yes! It's the invisible oxygen that remains in the bottles when we seal them!"
Dr. Thorne explained.
"It reacts with something I call 'active enzymes' in the fruit. This leads to the browning of the fruit and the significant loss of that 'mysterious active substance'!"
"So, what's the solution?" Felix asked directly.
"Very simple."
Dr. Thorne picked up a glass bottle he had modified, connected to a manual air pump.
"We need to pump out all the air from the container before sealing. We need a vacuum!"
"Vacuum..."
Felix nodded. This theory should be correct; although he hadn't been in the canned fruit business in his previous life, many products had their air removed from the packaging to achieve a longer shelf life.
"But, Boss,"
Dr. Thorne's face showed a hint of difficulty.
"Pumping out air is an engineering problem, not a chemical one. I need a machine that can stably create a vacuum environment during canning and seal it. And such a machine..."
"Such a machine doesn't exist in this world yet, does it?" Felix finished his sentence for him.
"Yes."
"Then we will invent it."
Felix's tone was calm, as if this matter was nothing remarkable.
He picked up a piece of paper and a pen.
"Doctor, tell me all your scientific requirements for this machine," he said.
"For example, what level of vacuum does it need to achieve? What is the maximum temperature it can withstand during sealing? I will personally work with my engineer, Smith, to turn your 'theory' into a steel monster that can be put into a factory."
This promise made Dr. Thorne look at his Boss, who seemed to be just a businessman, with new respect.
After these days of interaction, he found that a logically rigorous world seemed to be hidden in the other party's mind.
"Alright, we have a direction for the fruit problem."
Felix folded the paper, filled with parameters, and put it in his pocket.
"Now, Doctor, I need your brain to allocate a small portion of its energy to ponder two new topics."
"New ones?"
"Yes. Two small topics that can bring us greater profits."
Felix looked at him and said in a very serious tone.
"First, cost control. The factory consumes a large amount of industrial cleaning agents every day, and they are very expensive. I need you to analyze their chemical composition for me. Then, develop a formula that is more effective, but lower in cost, and that we can produce ourselves."
"The second is health and life."
Felix's tone became serious.
"The war has been going on for several months. I've learned from some sources that in the army's field hospitals, the most terrifying killer now is not enemy bullets, but wound infection. Soldiers often lose their lives due to a tiny wound."
"I've read some articles by a European doctor named Lister. He proposed using carbolic acid to sterilize wounds. But that stuff is too crude and too dangerous."
"So, Doctor."
Felix looked at him, saying each word clearly.
"I need you to develop a more stable, safer, and more potent surgical disinfectant for me, and for the soldiers of this country."
Dr. Thorne was somewhat surprised.
He had originally thought he was just working for a food company.
But now it seemed that his Boss's ambition had long since surpassed the dining table and the factory, extending into a broader field.
"Boss..." he murmured, "What... what exactly do you want to do?"
"I am merely a 'patriotic' businessman who wants to make money, Doctor."
Felix's face revealed a mysterious smile.
"And this world, especially a world at war, is never short of all sorts of problems waiting to be solved."
"And behind every problem," he concluded, "lies a mountain of gold waiting to be unearthed."
"Get to work, Doctor."
Laying out the pharmaceutical industry early was also what Felix had in mind.
After all, in this era, besides various diseases, a single bullet could also lead to infection and death, and he certainly didn't want to die before achieving his great ambition.